Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Akatsuki Chronicles: Childhoods ❯ Childhood of Deidara ( Chapter 3 )

Akatsuki Chronicles: Childhood of Deidara

Thanks:
To my wonderful beta-er, Nika.

Disclaimer:
I don’t own Naruto, or the movie Fly Away Home. All credits go to Kishimoto and Carroll Ballard.


When I was four years old, there was only one important thing in my life.

Television.

Or rather, the VCR attached to the television. Or perhaps it were the videos I always watched, because I liked them so much? Anyway, I liked all my videos, and so I watched them all a lot every day.

My favourite movie was ‘Fly Away Home’. I loved the girl, and her daddy, and the geese. Especially the geese. The geese were so cool and awesomely cute, and that was also the reason I had to cry every single time that the geese were geese-napped.

And when the movie ended, I fantasized (every single time) it was me who raised the geese. Because I could definitely raise the birds a thousand times better than the girl and her father in the movie.

If I would ever find some stray eggs, I would take them home. I would put them in my bed, and I would make sure they were warm all the time. At night I would hold them, so the eggs would get lots and lots of love.

And when the eggs would hatch, I would have the cutest and most awesome little baby-birds in history. And they would see me first, so they would all think I was their mother. They would all love me, because I was really nice and cool. And we would be together forever!

Because I would never hire a big bad man who would try to cut their wings!

Because I would never leave them on their own so they could be bird-napped!

Because I would never let them take such a long journey so one of them could get his wing hurt!

Because I would be the bestest bird-keeper in history!

And so, I pretended. I bought stuffed birds from the store, I made stuffed eggs, and I played and pretended I was taking care of them. I would take my stuffed birds to the back yard, hide them, and then I would find the stray birds and I would take them inside my house so we could be happy forever.

Sometimes my mother would say I had no life whatsoever, but I don’t think that was true.

After all, I was practicing to be the bestest bird-keeper in history.


One day, I actually came across a bird’s nest. I didn’t see the parents, so naturally, I thought they were dead. Someone must have killed the mommy and daddy, so I could finally show the world I could take care of baby-birds.

Inside the nest were fifteen eggs. The eggs were not as big as the eggs in the movie, but I didn’t mind. I gently picked up the fifteen eggs (one by one) and put them in my bag. And then I took them home.

This would be the true beginning of my life: I would make the eggs hatch, and I would raise 15 birds.

And when they would be adults, I would tell my mommy ‘See! I CAN take care of a bird!’. And I would be right and she would be wrong.

And that would be that.


The first egg cracked when I first tested if I could sit on them in order to keep them warm. I didn’t know eggs were that breakable.

The second egg cracked as I was too careless when putting the eggs in my bed. It fell on the ground and the yellow stuffing splattered on my shoes.

The third and fourth egg cracked during the first night, when I found out that it is very unwise to sleep with eggs in your bed. My arm was covered with yellow goo and eggshells in the morning.

The fifth egg probably cracked somewhere in the beginning, because on the second day it smelled. A lot. I threw it in the garbage bin, and said that it was not allowed for an egg to smell that much.

The sixth egg cracked because I stepped on it. It was a stupid egg, for rolling away from the rest and stopping right underneath my foot.

The seventh egg cracked because I wanted to see if the bird was ready to hatch. It wasn’t.

The eighth egg cracked because all the eggs were hatching. I was scared that the baby bird couldn’t come out, so I grabbed a spoon and helped him/her come out. It wasn’t my brightest idea.

The ninth baby-bird was thrown on the floor before I jumped on it, and I think I killed him a little bit, because the bird that came out of the egg was so ugly, I was afraid the bird had a bird deficit. Later it appeared all the baby birds had a bird deficit. They were all but-ugly.

The tenth egg didn’t hatch together with his/her remaining five siblings, so I was very creative to grab my catapult and launched it from my window into my back yard. I think the egg had a wonderful flight, and his brothers and sisters must have been excited too, for they couldn’t stop squeaking.

The eleventh baby-bird drowned in the bathtub. I thought it was a great idea to wash them (with lots and lots of soaps, for they didn’t smell great when they hatched), because they were so sticky from being inside the egg for such a long time. Again, not my brightest idea.

The twelfth baby-bird might have lived longer, wasn’t it for the fact I wanted to find out if it was a boy or girl. So naturally, I turned the bird upside-down for more than an hour, to search if he had a peepee or not. She hadn’t.

The thirteenth baby-bird was a really annoying baby. It cried and cried all the time. So I found some dental floss and tried binding his beak together. I think I sort of squashed his head while doing so.

The fourteenth baby-duck died a little bit, for I forgot to feed him only seven times.

The fifteenth baby-duck (I called him Igor, for he was but-ugly when I named him) actually lived an entire week. By then, it followed me everywhere I went. Even out on the street. Even when I quickly ran to the other side of the street, for there was this huge car full of goods speeding down the street. I think Igor didn’t see the car, for he went SPLASH and then he only was a red spot on the street.


Two years later I wisely decided to stay away from all real-life birds, and I bought a bag of clay.