Chapter 1
Deidara woke up with a feeling as if a train had run him over, which was strange because he usually didn’t feel pain. His eyes burned as if someone had exposed them to the sun for hours, and every muscle in his body protested at the slightest movement with a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to echo in his head. With more effort than he’d like to admit, he sat up abruptly, trying to focus his vision and figure out where the hell he was.
To his surprise, he found himself in some kind of dense, dark forest, where trees loomed like gigantic shadows against a sky painted in red and orange—it was probably sunset. There was no way he could have gotten there on his own. The last thing he remembered was Pain assigning him a mission alongside his masked partner.
—
“Sempaiii!” Tobi’s annoying voice echoed in the distance, interrupting his thoughts. The masked man was running around like some kind of little kid, generally just doing stupid things—sometimes tripping over himself or laughing at his own antics. Sometimes Deidara suspected Tobi acted like this on purpose. There was no way someone could naturally be that dumb!
Deidara, who felt his patience wearing thin, was getting tired of this dynamic. He did everything on their damn missions! Meanwhile, his partner—who he suspected had some kind of mental disability—did nothing but find new ways to complicate his life or annoy him. Once, Tobi even yanked on his ponytail, claiming he thought it was fake.
The mission seemed relatively simple, according to what Pain had told them. All they had to do was infiltrate and steal confidential information that had somehow been gathered about the Akatsuki. Nothing he hadn’t done before. But, as always, Tobi found a way to ruin it.
Everything was going according to plan—no one was following them, and no sandstorm was expected for at least two days. Then, out of nowhere, Tobi, who was as distracted as ever (playing with a rock, of all things), suddenly stopped. He claimed he sensed something. Deidara didn’t believe him; it wasn’t the first time the masked man had made excuses to stop walking. But before the blond could react, an unsettling sensation swept through his body from head to toe, as if every cell in his body was being ripped apart and rearranged. His vision blurred within seconds, and he passed out.
—
The blond sighed in exasperation. This was more than just an annoyance; it was unthinkable. In all his years working for the Akatsuki, he had never failed a single mission, and he took pride in his flawless record. He suspected Pain wouldn’t be particularly understanding when he found out about this “little mishap.” After all, as an S-rank ninja, he should have at least anticipated something like this.
But the first thing he had to do was find his kohai. They were partners, after all, and knowing Tobi, he was probably either scared out of his mind or running around somewhere. Maybe he’d even been bitten by something poisonous. If that were the case, they’d have to find an antidote.
Truthfully, Deidara felt awful—and not just physically. He was furious, angrier than he’d ever been. The only thing he could compare it to was the rage he’d felt when that Uchiha used his Sharingan against him. His head throbbed, though he was grateful the pain wasn’t too severe. It was more like… a minor annoyance. He’d rate it a one on a scale of one to a hundred. “Whoever did this to me is going to die,” he thought, clenching his fists.
But something was wrong. It just didn’t add up. The trees seemed different—much larger, as if they had grown several feet in a matter of days. Maybe he was disoriented? No, that was impossible. Deidara wasn’t someone who got disoriented easily. Something was off.
Deidara looked more closely at his hands… Since when were they so small? Though they still bore the forbidden jutsu seal on his palms, that wasn’t much of a comfort. His legs had also noticeably shrunk, and his body now resembled that of a small child.
“Is this a genjutsu? They’d have to be really stupid to think I, an S-rank ninja, would fall for something so basic! I hate genjutsu, but at least they were creative enough to trap me like this. Still, they’re idiots,” the blond thought angrily.
With a quick and precise gesture, he disrupted his chakra flow, attempting to break the genjutsu. But there was a problem… he was still *freaking* small. “This doesn’t make sense,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his brow furrowed in clear frustration. “If this were a genjutsu, I would’ve broken it in a damn second,” he said under his breath. There was a possibility this wasn’t a genjutsu. After all, after his humiliating fight with that Uchiha, he had trained obsessively—as Tobi would say—to ensure he’d never fall for something like that again. But no… this had to be something else.
Maybe it was a jutsu with the power and purpose of reversing age, he thought as he examined his small, useless hands more carefully. A technique like that would be devastating—after all, it could incapacitate even the best ninjas, turning them into vulnerable, useless versions of themselves. It was impressive, but not as impressive as his art.
He let out an exasperated sigh, exhausted by the whole situation. Tired but determined, he decided he’d figure out what the hell was going on. But his mind couldn’t help drifting to one particular person—someone who, despite annoying him almost daily, at least cared about him a little. Still, he couldn’t help but blame him, at least a little, for his current predicament.
He blamed Tobi for this whole mess and couldn’t help clenching his fists again. If it weren’t for his stupid stumbles and lack of ninja skills, they wouldn’t have been delayed, and that ninja—or civilian, or whatever—wouldn’t have caught up to them. “This never would’ve happened with Sasori no Danna,” he thought irritably. Sasori was obsessed with punctuality, but it never bothered him too much. Plus, he was meticulous in almost everything he did—and, more importantly, he didn’t act like a child with attention deficit disorder.
Was Tobi also here, in exactly the same situation as him? The mental image of that almost made him laugh. “If he’s already dumber than a dog as an adult, he must be unbearable as a kid,” he thought, amused, a smirk tugging at his lips. He could picture a smaller version of his partner running in circles and eating dirt through the hole in his stupid mask. “Definitely a walking disaster,” he muttered. But a small part of him couldn’t help feeling a little worried about him. He’d find him, and together, they’d get out of this.
He decided he’d think about all that later. For now, he needed to focus on more important things, like finding a way out of this absurd situation. Meanwhile, he headed in the direction where he sensed the highest concentration of chakra. He wasn’t a sensor specialist, but he wasn’t bad at it either.
He considered the possibility that it might be a trap, but it was a better option than wandering aimlessly through the forest. However, before he could carry out his plan, there was one more pressing matter to deal with: his clothes. What used to be his custom-made ninja attire now hung ridiculously large on him, as if a child had stolen his father’s clothes. “This is a disaster, hmm,” he muttered, trying to adjust his pants, which kept slipping down his legs. What was he supposed to do?
He didn’t even have scissors or tools to alter them. He thought about stealing clothes from the first civilian he found, but that would just leave him in the same predicament. He considered stealing from someone his current “body age,” but he highly doubted any kid would be stupid enough to be out in a place like this at dusk. So that option was out.
So, what to do? He thought for a while and decided he could steal something. Stealing. Just the idea of stealing brought a smile to his face. He hadn’t stolen anything since joining the Akatsuki, thanks to Pain’s stupid rule. “We’re a criminal organization, and we’re not allowed to steal?” he thought, rolling his eyes.
It was ridiculous, especially because Kakuzu, the stingy treasurer, barely gave them any money to spend on themselves. “Pain and his absurd rules, hmm,” he thought, feeling resentment grow rapidly inside him.
But now it was different. No one could stop him! He’d be unstoppable, and the Akatsuki wouldn’t be a problem anymore. Finally, he could be free—the one thing he truly wanted. Free from the old man Onoki and his endless lectures about how to behave like an exemplary ninja.
Free from Pain and his organization with their weird goal they hadn’t even fully revealed to him. This would be his new beginning, Deidara thought, a malicious smile starting to form on his face. Once they stopped looking for him, he’d find a way to return to being an adult.
For now, the only thing he had to do was test his ninja skills. Even though his body was that of a brat around ten years old, his mind and abilities should still be worthy of an S-rank rogue ninja. And if they weren’t, he’d manage! Maybe he’d have less chakra, but he’d survive. After all, his explosive art didn’t just depend on chakra—it also depended on his creativity! Something only true artists like him possessed.
The first thing he’d do was test his chakra control. Walking on trees and trying a couple of simple Genin-level tricks would be a good start. “This’ll be a piece of cake,” the blond thought. After all, when he left Iwa and became a rogue ninja, he’d already reached the rank of Jōnin, and his time with the Akatsuki had only sharpened his ninja skills further.
And just as he predicted, it was a piece of cake. Deidara walked on the trees with relative ease, though he quickly realized he’d have to adapt to his new, much smaller size. “Being small has its advantages,” he thought as he agilely jumped from one tree to another. He was sure that with his current appearance, people would underestimate him. Even when he was the right age, opponents often took one look at his androgynous features and assumed he was weaker than his Akatsuki partner! To his annoyance, he’d even been mistaken for a woman several times. But bah, that just made it more fun and satisfying to kill them. Underestimating someone could be your worst mistake, and he’d use that to his advantage.
Now, it was time to test his art! Although he didn’t have much clay left, he still had a small amount, which he divided in two. He’d use half to check if his ninja skills had been affected by this unfortunate turn of events.
He reached into his clay pouch and pulled out a modest amount, enough to comfortably create one of his C1 sculptures. Everything felt the same as when he was an adult, except for a slight itch in his arms—probably just his body adjusting to using chakra or something.
Next, he moved on to testing his jutsus. He wouldn’t risk using too much chakra, as his reserves were extremely limited due to his “young” age. He wasn’t even sure how old he was now—somewhere between 9 and 10, he guessed—but he hadn’t had the chance to see his reflection, and even if he did, it would only be an estimate. But his age didn’t matter; his skills were still intact.
His hands felt clumsy as he formed the necessary hand seals, as if they were remembering how to move after years of inactivity. But the jutsus he executed were of acceptable quality. Maybe a bit smaller than usual, but that was to be expected. “Not bad, hmm,” he murmured, satisfied with himself.
Finally, there was taijutsu. It had never been his strong suit. He was better than average in Iwa, but that didn’t say much. After all, in a village desperate for ninjas, they’d let just about any talentless idiot into the academy. So being “better than average” wasn’t exactly an achievement—at least not for him. After testing himself, he decided he’d train his taijutsu more later, but for now, it wasn’t a priority. He needed to figure out where the hell he was, find some clothes, and secure temporary shelter before searching for Tobi.
Still, he had to admit that not everything was against him. In fact, he had a lot going for him. He still needed to figure out where he’d ended up, but he was sure that no matter where it was, he’d survive. After all, he was from Iwa, a country where you had to be as tough as a rock to survive—hard, resilient, and showing no pain, physical or mental, during battles. And most importantly, you had to be as adaptable as one.
He could remember Onoki droning on about an old Iwa saying: “Rocks persevere in the desert, in the forest, and in the rivers.” And whenever Deidara complained during training, the Tsuchikage would always say, “Rocks don’t complain; they just exist.” That voice had stuck with him.
And he’d do the same now. Now that he knew how his abilities had been affected, the next step was to figure out where the hell he was. “Probably some no-man’s-land,” Deidara thought irritably—one of those empty buffer zones villages maintained to keep their distance from each other. There wasn’t a trace of civilization, but he’d take it as a challenge to prove his skills. After all, in everything, it was adapt or die.
He walked for what felt like hours in his stupid child’s body until he finally figured out where he was: the Land of Fire, more specifically, Konoha. It wasn’t hard to figure out, and ruling out other countries was easy. It couldn’t be Iwa—the only thing in his hometown was rocks, and the few places with vegetation were heavily guarded. Suna, the next logical option, was nothing but sand and a scorching sun that could melt your brain like cheap ice cream. Kiri was just water everywhere, and he could swear it smelled like fish. So, by process of elimination, he’d ended up in Konoha.
His theory was confirmed when, after walking a bit longer, he heard two guys talking in that annoying Konoha accent. He could also see the Hokage faces carved into the mountain, but something didn’t add up—there were only three. “I could’ve sworn the last time I heard about Konoha, they were adding the Slug Princess’s face next to the Yellow Flash’s,” he thought, frowning. The same Yellow Flash who had killed countless Iwa ninjas. “Another reason to hate this place, hmm.”
During the time he’d been walking, he decided to test once and for all if he was in a genjutsu. Cutting off his chakra flow wasn’t the only way to break one; pain could also work. He could try breaking a finger, but that would be stupid if this wasn’t an illusion. “If this is real, I’m going to need all my fingers functional,” he thought, looking at his small hands. “Besides, breaking a finger is too dramatic, even for me, hmm.”
But there were other options. One of them was stabbing himself, but he quickly dismissed the idea. “The blood loss would be a big problem,” he muttered. “Besides, if I need to escape, that wound would reduce my mobility.” The idea of bleeding out in a Konoha forest wasn’t appealing, especially in such a vulnerable and pathetic state.
After thinking it over for a few minutes, he decided that biting his arm would be the most logical choice. “It’ll be quick, and it won’t leave me incapacitated,” he thought as he walked, looking for a suitable spot to carry out his plan. Nothing was too painful for him—hell, he’d even endured having both arms ripped off. Those stupid ninjas could never understand his art.
He’d find clay and take advantage of his unexpected arrival in Konoha to show these ignorant ninjas what true art was. “They think their techniques and jutsus are impressive, like that idiot Itachi, but they’ll never create something that leaves a real mark on the world like I do, hmm.”
He hadn’t reached the more urbanized area of Konoha yet, so there were only a few civilians and other ninjas around. “This’ll be a good spot,” the blond thought, slowly sitting down on a patch of grass. The ground was damp, and the air smelled of earth, with fallen leaves scattered around. Ready to carry out his plan, he looked at his right arm, marked with burns, and then remembered something he hadn’t thought about in a long time.
“The Bugaku clan,” he murmured softly, running his fingers over the scars on his arms.
—
“One of the strongest clans in Iwa, but also one of the most unhinged. Their origins were mysterious—or at least Deidara couldn’t remember them—but he knew their history dated back to the early days of Iwagakure. Unlike other minor clans of the time, whose abilities were visible at a glance or at least had very noticeable traits, like the Uchiha or Hyūga clans’ ocular kekkei genkai, the Bugaku clan’s power was much more subtle—but no less deadly. Their unique ability was explosive chakra.”
technique that allowed the user to infuse their chakra with an unparalleled destructive energy. This chakra was not only capable of essentially exploding anything it infused with that energy, but it could also be trained to create controlled explosions. Without a doubt, it was an impressive power, turning the members of this clan into human weapons.
But there was a major problem related to this clan: the explosive chakra was not an ability that came without a cost. It wasn't something free. It could be said that it was like a double-edged sword, and its constant use for an average ninja came with a terrible price. During the Second Great Ninja War, in a desperate attempt by Iwa to tip the balance of power, they tried to impose the same explosive chakra on ninjas outside of that clan using a forbidden jutsu. This jutsu, in addition to implanting the chakra, also added mouths on the palms of their hands.
But things didn't go as planned, so the Iwa council quickly decided to classify it as a forbidden jutsu, mainly for two clear reasons:
The first reason was the danger of the jutsu, which was to be expected. However, in battle, the explosive chakra didn't discriminate between ally and enemy. Generally, the users of this power didn't bother to give any warning to their allies about when an explosion would occur. Any mistake in using the chakra would result in a massive explosion that not only claimed the lives of enemies but also everyone around, including the user of that energy. During the Great Ninja War, several ninjas who used this jutsu suddenly lost control, causing massive casualties on both sides. The destructive power was so immense that even the Iwa council feared that if this power fell into the wrong hands, it could be turned against their own village.
The second reason, equally important as the first, was the user's sanity. Let's say that the explosive chakra didn't just destroy others; it also left lasting effects on the user themselves. The chakra pathways were damaged and suffered almost irreparable harm, leaving lasting consequences. Users described it as if thousands of fiery needles were repeatedly piercing their chakra pathways—an unbearable and intense pain.
Many of the users of this technique who tried to perfect it through practice ended up either too severely injured to continue or dead due to the unfortunate consequences of this jutsu. Even members of the clan from which this power originally came also experienced pain and physical side effects, albeit to a lesser extent. The members of the Bugaku clan were born with an extraordinary resistance to pain—a genetic mutation. Their bodies took approximately six years to adapt to the use of this chakra before they stopped experiencing physical side effects like burns.
—
But that wasn't all. There were also curious mental side effects, primarily because the chakra tended to interfere with the user's brain chemistry. However, Deidara didn't learn much about that because he was too cool for it to be true.
"Burns… when did I get burned?" he asked himself. They looked like second-degree burns and were disgusting. The blond didn't remember much about his childhood, but he did recall that burns were a daily occurrence during his early years. Before his mother died, he remembered how she would tell him stories about their clan.
"Hmm, now's not the time to think about that," he muttered to himself. With force, he bit his arm until he tasted the metallic tang of blood. He definitely wasn't in a genjutsu. Now that he knew that, his next move would be to find some clothes. It shouldn't be too hard, right? He'd just sneak into Konoha and steal something. With that idea in mind, the blond headed toward Konoha.