First Meeting

Sasori woke naturally at 7:30am, just like always. He was instantly aware of Deidara snoozing softly beside him, and pleased to find that this comforted rather than terrified him. I don’t want to fuck this up, he thought. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted…

Sliding out of the bed as slowly and smoothly as possible so as not to disturb Deidara, Sasori was struck by the contrast between the gently snoring person in his bed and the blond-haired firebug he had met on the first day of term last semester…

The polite tap-tap-tap of someone knocking on his cubicle wall pulled Sasori away from an email about changes to Professor Kakuzu’s Sculpture 100 curriculum.

“What is it?” he said, looking up.

Konan, a third year undergraduate who was specializing in origami, stood at his desk, her hands folded. “Sorry to bother you, Sasori-danna, but there’s a… situation that maybe you could help us with…”

He shut his laptop and stood. “What kind of a situation?”

Konan pursed her lips. She had a pretty face, small with petite features. She’d dyed her hair purple this semester and was wearing an origami flower pinned behind her ear.

“Maybe you’d better just come see…”

“Does the situation have something to do with the periodic explosions I keep hearing in the distance?"

Konan wrinkled her nose. “You guessed it!”

Outside in the quad there was a bang! followed by screams and laughter. Sunlight streamed through the glass of the front doors. It’s not even 9am, Sasori thought. What’s going on?

He pushed through the doors into the morning sun and a firecracker the diameter and length of a middle finger dropped at his feet, lit and hissing. Without thinking, he kicked it away into the bushes. Bang! A shower of dirt flew into the air.

“Do another one!” shouted a student with longish pale hair, one of the many that had gathered in the quad. The red-haired girl in glasses standing at his side elbowed him.

“Enough! We have class!” she shrieked, dragging him away by collar.

Konan pulled Sasori aside. “He’s up there,” she said, pointing to the roof of the drama school’s theatre and teaching building. Sasori’s gaze followed her finger and he spied someone with long blond hair in an oversized black overcoat sitting there, legs hanging over the edge of the roof, grinning at the quad below.

“His name is Deidara. He’s a freshman in one of your tutorial groups. Professor Sage wants you go up and talk him down… If you can’t get him down in the next ten minutes Sage’s going to call campus security.”

“Why haven’t security been called yet?”

Konan shrugged. “When Sage shouted at him to knock it off he shouted back ‘this is art!’ I think he even had a name for it… Something like ‘A Hundred Blooming Scholars’ or ‘Booming Flowers’ or whatever. And you know how Sage is about self-expression… Anyway, good luck…”

Sasori sighed and put his hands on his hips. He squinted up at the freshman one more time. I’m not going to go easy on you, you little shit.

*

The Drama School roof was easily accessible—which must have been why the freshman had chosen it. Sasori wasn’t even out of breath by the time he got to the top. He paused at the door, listening. Bang! Yes, he was still at it. Slowly, silently turning the door handle, Sasori decided he’d show this upstart why the undergraduates all called him “The Scorpion.”

He crept up behind Deidara as if he were prey. The blond was fiddling with a firecracker and a lighter in his lap, completely preoccupied.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sasori said, lips inches from Deidara’s ear.

“Uwaah!” Deidara exclaimed, firecracker and lighter flying into the air and sailing over the edge. “Shit!” He spun, taking a swing with his arm, then leaped onto the roof to chase Sasori, who was quickly retreating.

“What the fuck did you do that for?! Nn!” Deidara shouted. He looked ready to punch Sasori, the way he was bouncing on his toes and balling his fists.

Sasori smiled, enjoying this.

“You’re going to be late for your first class, Deidara-san,” he said, circling just out of arms-length.

Deidara’s shoulders sagged. “And who are you, mn?” He was deflated but still defiant.

“I’m Sasori. I’ll be overseeing your tutorials for Sculpture 100.”

“Oh, the Scorpion. I know who you are. My dorm-mate told me about you, mn.” Deidara began fiddling with something in his pockets—presumably more firecrackers.

“Then you know I’m not here to chat,” Sasori retorted. “Get your ass downstairs and get to class.”

A trickster’s grin appeared on Deidara’s face. “Oh ho? You gonna make me? Hm.” He spread his feet apart and crossed his arms.

Now that Deidara was standing still, Sasori could take in his appearance: long blond hair, half of it pulled into a high ponytail, with one long piece left out which perfectly concealed his left eye. His right eye was a clear blue, encircled with dark eyeliner. His nose was small and pointed, above a wide mouth with pale lips. He looked older than most freshmen, perhaps already in his mid-twenties. Despite his bulky overcoat, he carried himself with straight-backed grace—a soldier? Yes, the combat boots he wore looked well-weathered. He wore gray fingerless gloves against the autumn chill. Taking in the boots and military stance, Sasori suddenly remembered what he’d heard about this new student from Professor Sage.

“Did they kick you out of the army for pulling stunts like this?”

Deidara paled, but quickly recovered. “Why, yes… Exactly stunts like this. Surprisingly the army doesn’t appreciate ‘the art of the explosion’ as much as you’d think, mn.” He flashed Sasori a small-toothed grin.

“So what, you thought the university art department would tolerate it?”

The blond shrugged. “It was worth a shot, mn.”

Sasori narrowed his eyes. My digs bounce right off him. They’re going to start saying the Scorpion’s got no venom…

“It only takes one phone call home. Will your parents keep sending you money if they hear you’re still blowing shit up?”

That did it. Deidara’s bravado evaporated. There was a scared look in his eyes that quickly morphed into indignation, and finally a feigned indifference.

“No. Don’t call my parents. They don’t need to know.” He picked at the cuffs of his overcoat and casually walked over to sit on the ledge. His blue eye sparkled and he fluttered his eyelashes at Sasori.

“I’ll be a good boy, mn.”

“Right then,” Sasori said, pulling the roof access door open and indicating with his arm: “Off you go.”

“Ha.” Deidara’s grin turned malicious. “You think I like taking orders now that I’m out of the army? You can’t tell me what to do, mn. Why don’t you scram?”

On the word ‘scram’, Deidara pulled his hand out of his pocket, struck the firecracker he had there on the brick of the ledge, igniting it, and threw it at Sasori’s feet. Without even breaking eye contact, Sasori stomped on it and extinguished the fuse.

“Off you go,” he repeated with a voice that set most freshmen shivering in their boots.

Deidara shivered, but not with fear. He hopped off the ledge and sauntered over to Sasori.

“I like you… Scorpion,” he whispered, inches from Sasori’s ear. “See you in class, mm.”

Sasori needed a moment on the roof alone before he headed back to his office.

*

も (mo), he was such a little shithead… Sasori thought as he pulled his V60, a paper filter and coffee grounds out of the cupboard. The kettle had just boiled. The balls he had to flirt with a teaching assistant he’d only just met! But he was smiling to himself.

Deidara had given him nothing but trouble those first few weeks. He’d turn up late, mouth off, and argue with the other students. He developed a particularly strong hatred for another teaching assistant, Sasori’s friend Itachi. It wasn’t until nearly the end of the semester that Sasori realized Deidara was actually seriously interested in art. He was visiting the library late one night, searching for a book in the Fine Arts section when Deidara’s yellow ponytail caught his eye. He was passed out on a stack of required reading. In sleep, all of Deidara’s rebellious edges softened away. But he was drooling on a library book.

“Deidara-san,” Sasori called.

The blond immediately sat up. “I’m awake! Mm.” He looked over his shoulder at Sasori. “Oh. It’s you.”

Sasori smirked. “Don’t get so excited.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Deidara had called. “Could you help me with this? I want to pass my art history exam but I’m struggling to keep all these names straight, mn. Any tips?”

They had ended up trading numbers that night. Sasori rarely gave his number to students. It was usually only those he had ascertained were only going to contact him about their studies, and usually only after they left his class at the end of the year. But Sasori had disagreed so vehemently with Deidara’s opinion on da Vinci that he took Deidara’s number just so he could call him later that night with more evidence from a book he had at home. After that, they continued to have heated arguments, but always the kind that challenged and refined their views. Maybe that’s when I started to see through the act, see him for who he really was…

The coffee still needed time to percolate. Sasori brushed his teeth, took his pills, got dressed. Monday was a work day, so he picked out slim navy green trousers, a button-down shirt and a pale brown cardigan. Deidara still snored on. I don’t miss being an undergrad, he thought. But he didn’t want to think about that time. He threw himself into preparing breakfast, something a little more complicated than he normally would have prepared.

Deidara stirred as soon as the bacon hit the pan.

“Mm, is that bacon?” he mumbled. His hair hung over his eye as usual, but stuck up a little in the back. He shuffled over to the kitchen counter in his slippers.

“You’re already dressed, mn,” he noticed. “What time is it?”

“Just after eight. You still have plenty of time before class.”

Deidara sat at the counter and rested his cheek on his hand, smiling sleepily and gazing at Sasori.

“Let’s skip today, mn,” he said.

Sasori winced. “I knew you’d say that,” he replied. He turned back to the bacon and flipped it. “Unfortunately I can’t just skip today’s tutorials. And I need to get in early to prepare. You can skip if you want but you’ll be on your own.”

“Fine,” Deidara pouted. “I want to take a shower. Can you show me which is the soap? It all looks the same, mn.”

“Eat first. It’s ready.” He switched off the burner and tipped the bacon onto the two plates he’d prepared on the sideboard. “Do you want coffee?”

“Yes, please! Mn,” Deidara said with emphasis. He took the mug in two hands and inhaled deeply.

Sasori set a plate with a colorful omelet, two strips of bacon and a small pile of vegetable fried rice in front of Deidara.

“I’m gonna get fat staying with you, Sasori-danna, mn,” Deidara smirked.

“Please. You’ll get fat if you keep eating all that shit they serve in the canteen. Look at all these vegetables. You’ve probably never even set eyes on some of them before.”

Sasori walked around the kitchen island and took his seat.

「いただきます,」(Itadakimasu) he said, chopsticks held in both hands as if he were praying.

“What does that mean?” Deidara asked, picking up his fork.

Without turning away from his meal, Sasori replied: “Something like ‘I receive’ or ‘thanks for the meal’… My obāsan drilled it into me as a kid, now it feels weird to eat without saying it. I always think of her when I say it, like I’m thanking her for teaching me how to cook…”

Deidara nodded. “Is she still alive?”

“Yes, she lives in Japan now. We… we had a… bit of a falling out after I came to university and she decided it would be better for her to live out her old age in her hometown rather than in a foreign country. I guess.” Sasori shot a look at Deidara. “Why am I telling you all this?”

“Because I asked?” Deidara shrugged. “Turns out the Scorpion is human after all… It’s interesting, mn.”

“Well, while we’re sharing, why don’t you tell me about your parents?” Sasori said hotly.

Deidara’s expression darkened. “You don’t want to know about them. There’s nothing to say. They’ve had it out for me since I was a kid. I’ve never been what they wanted me to be, mn.”

“So they sent you to the army?” Sasori picked at his omelet. He knew from Deidara’s records that he’d spent two years in the army straight out of high school, but after getting discharged, three more years passed before he got accepted to the university. The more time Sasori spent together with Deidara, the more he wondered where those three years had gone.

Deidara had cleaned his plate. “I want a shower.” He drained his coffee and stood. “Can you please show me which is the soap? Mn.”

“Sure,” Sasori replied, also standing.

He walked Deidara over to the bathroom and pointed.

“That one. This one’s shampoo and that one’s conditioner. Towels are on the shelf.”

Deidara shut the door on him without saying thanks.

Well, I guess we both have our issues…

*

Deidara emerged from the bathroom well after Sasori had finished doing the dishes. Since he hated waiting idly, Sasori had taken his laptop out and was sitting at the kitchen counter, skimming the journal articles he was supposed to review with his students later. Deidara stood at the bathroom door, back in his clothes from yesterday, rubbing his hair with a towel.

“That was fast,” Sasori commented sarcastically. “Didn’t they teach you how to take three-minute showers in the army?”

“I had a buzz cut in the army, asshole, mn,” Deidara sneered. “Do you have a blow dryer?”

“In the cupboard below the sink,” he replied. He added: “You’ve got ten minutes before I leave without you. I need to get to the office.”

“You’re so impatient, Sasori-danna… mn.” Deidara stooped to open the cupboard below the sink and grabbed the hair dryer. When he stood, he stuck his head back out the bathroom door and said: “Some things are worth waiting for, you know, mn.”

*

It was a gloriously sunny spring day as they walked from Sasori’s apartment to campus, a pleasant ten-minute stroll. Deidara amused himself by kicking the heads off the dandelions along the sidewalk.

“When do you finish today?” Deidara asked as the university gates came into sight.

“I was just about to ask you the same question,” Sasori laughed. They shared a smile. Deidara’s arm twitched, as if he wanted to catch Sasori’s hand, but he didn’t. Sasori continued: “Do you want to do something later?”

“Like what?”

“Uh…” Sasori’s mind was blank. “Uh, I guess dinner?” He felt his cheeks getting red. You’re not some kid on his first date! he chastened himself. What’s wrong with you?!

Deidara grinned, clearly enjoying this. His nose wrinkled up and his eye became a glittering crescent.

“You’re adorable. Let’s go see a movie, mn.”

Sasori sighed in relief. “Good. Yes. Let’s see a movie.”

“I’ll come find you in your office, mn. When?”

“Five o’clock?”

“Done, mn.”

They arrived at the main door of the art department building: time to part ways. Sasori turned to leave, but Deidara called:

“Sasori-danna.”

And when Sasori turned back, Deidara pecked him on the cheek.

“Have a good day, mn,” Deidara smiled.

Sasori’s heart was pounding. He reached out a hesitant hand. He didn’t know what to do with it. Finally, he gripped the hem of Deidara’s jacket and tugged it gently.

“You too,” he replied. He looked into Deidara’s eye and gave him a sad little smile that said: I’m sorry. This is all I can give you right now.

Deidara reached out and pinched the material of Sasori’s cardigan sleeve. The look in his eyes said: It’s okay.