Daydream
“If you could live anywhere you want, where would you want to be?”
The other side of the workshop is silent, save for the clattering of wood and clay.
“I want to live in the mountains, hm,” Deidara answers himself. He has gotten used to this kind of response after so many years; deep down, he knows Sasori heard him loud and clear, but simply couldn’t be bothered to spare Deidara his thoughts. That was fine, though—all that Sasori needed was time and a soft push. “Ideally somewhere with rare minerals to make the best clay. A high cliff sounds nice too, so I don’t need to summon my bird all the time to see the view. It feels good to be so close to the sky. It makes you feel free. Don’t you think so too, Master?”
As Deidara keeps working on the wing of his clay pterosaur, Sasori breaks the spell of quiet in their ambient workshop: “I want a beach,” he pipes up.
“A beach?” Deidara blinks. “Hm, that makes sense. There’s not much water in the desert, yeah? And because there’s sand, you’ll still feel in your element.”
“Correct.”
Deidara considers Sasori, who is facing opposite him, hard at work in his puppetry as always. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what he could be thinking or feeling. In his head, Deidara can only imagine Sasori, thirsty and weary from walking endlessly in the scorching desert, glimpsing mirages amongst the dunes. Deidara swoops in, taking Sasori away from the unforgiving sun and to this imaginary place that they’ve yet to find—or create. They could definitely make it happen.
“Someday, we’ll be free,” Deidara muses out loud, imagining the faint smile on Sasori’s lips.