Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Artist's Alley ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Artist's Alley

By: elysianfire

Chapter 3:

I followed Deidara down the school hallway. “So, what's your name, un?” he asked.

Oh, right. I hadn't actually told him my name yet. I had just agreed to live with a guy who didn't even know my name. That's real good. “Nakashima Ka—” I started to say, before I was interrupted by a loud banging, like a bomb going off or something. I jumped, looking around for the source of the sound.

Deidara drew a thin black cell phone out of his pocket and opened it up. Wait, he had an explosion as his ringtone? “Aw, hell,” he muttered angrily. He punched some buttons and returned the phone to his pocket. “Change of plans, un. You're coming with me.”

“Um, okay,” I said. It didn't really matter much to me if he took me to his house right away or not. Actually, I preferred the detour. Even though I had agreed to it, I was definitely not looking forward to living in the house of a complete stranger. But I've already been over that.

He led me to his car in the parking lot. It was a really nice black Porsche. This guy must be really rich, I thought as I slid into the leather seat. As he started driving, I was suddenly very grateful that I was wearing my seatbelt. He was speeding like a madman; he must have been going at least twenty over the speed limit! I closed my eyes and pressed my back against the seat, taking deep breaths and praying that we wouldn't get into a wreck.

I felt the car slow to a stop, and Deidara muttered a curse under his breath. I dared to open my eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief to see we were at a stoplight. While we waited, Deidara tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, it occurred to me I had no idea where he was taking me. “Um, Iwato-sensei? Where are we going?” I asked. (I guessed I was supposed to call him `Iwato-sensei'. He was going to be my teacher, after all, even if the circumstances were a little odd.)

He stiffened for some reason, making me wonder if I had hit a touchy subject. Well, I deserved to know where I was going. “I'm meeting up with someone about an art gig, un,” he replied, very calmly and easily. Wait, had I just imagined him stiffening? Well, whatever.

“Oh, okay,” I said. That didn't exactly answer my question, but the light was green, meaning it was time for me to close my eyes and start praying again. A few minutes later, we pulled to a stop in front of a…strip bar? I shook my head. He must be meeting somewhere near the bar. Why would anyone discuss an art gig in a strip bar? I froze in complete shock and horror as Deidara headed straight for it.

He seemed to notice I wasn't following, because he stopped in front of the door and turned around. “Hurry up. He's already going to kill me as it is, un.”

I gaped at him. “You're meeting at a strip club?”

He shrugged. “We were banned from every other place, un. Now hurry up, unless you want to wait out here with them.” He nodded to my right.

I followed his nod and saw a group of suspicious looking guys loitering by the corner of the building. Three of them were eyeing me with unpleasant looks on their faces. Right; decision made. I ran after Deidara into the strip club (I never thought I would do that.) inside, it was dark and filled with the stench of alcohol. Several men were gathered around a platform on which two scantily clad women were pole dancing. Just the place I wanted to be.

We walked to a table at the back of the bar, where a man with red hair sat alone. “You're late, Deidara,” the man said coolly as we approached.

Deidara sat down in one of the chairs, and I followed suit. “Sorry, Sasori-danna,” Deidara said politely. Wow, he must really respect this Sasori guy. He waved his hand at me. “That was her fault, un.” I frowned at him. My fault? He was the one who'd wasted so much time just on tormenting me!

Sasori looked at me as though just noticing I was there. “Who is she?” he asked after surveying me.

“This is—” Deidara paused, as he had never actually gotten my name.

“Kaya,” I filled in.

“Kaya. She's my new apprentice, un.”

Sasori eyed me again. “This is your apprentice?”

Okay, is there something about me that just screams `I have no talent!' or something?

Apparently, Sasori didn't expect an answer, because he moved on immediately. “I wanted to discuss the—creations—you provided for the exhibit,” the redhead said, returning his attention to Deidara.

“What about them, hmm?”

“I—” Sasori started to reply, but just then, a pretty young woman wearing too much makeup and practically no clothing swayed up to our table.

“Is there anything I can do for you, boys?” she asked suggestively, rubbing her body against Sasori's arm.

I saw Deidara eyeing her hungrily, and I blushed, longing to sink down in my chair and hide under the table. Why, oh why, oh why, had I let myself get dragged here?

Sasori, however, unlike Deidara, looked irritated with the girl's intrusion. He pulled out some cash. “I will pay you this to go away and not bother us,” he said, handing it to her. The girl smiled, and took the money, stuffing it in between her breasts before dancing away to the next table, her hips swaying provocatively.

“Ah, danna, you can't let us have some fun, as long as we're here, un?” Deidara whined. I rolled my eyes. Pervert.

Sasori seemed to follow my line of thinking. “We're here on business,” he said. “And may I remind you that it is your fault we're even here?”

“Yeah, yeah, un. You were saying?”

“Yes, you're `works of art',” Sasori continued the earlier conversation. “I don't feel they're quite appropriate.”

Deidara frowned. “Meaning, un?”

“They are hardly your best work.”

Now Deidara looked mad. I could feel the anger prickling off of him, and I edged away from him. “Those are my masterpieces, un.”

“If you care to call that art,” Sasori said.

“Art is a bang!” Deidara cried, to my surprise. He must mean that symbolically…right? “It is the beauty of a single fleeting moment of explosion! That is—”

“—true art,” Sasori finished for him. “You're such a brat. Very well, if you won't change your mind, I'll see you there on Tuesday at 5 o' clock. And don't be late.”

“I'll be there, un,” Deidara said. He stood up. “See you then.”

I followed him, with great relief, out of the bar and back to his car. He still seemed edgy from his conversation with Sasori, even as we started drive (thankfully not twenty over the speed limit). “So, I guess you're really passionate about your art,” I offered timidly, hoping to break the tension.

“Passion is key,” Deidara replied, flicking on the air conditioning. “Sasori just can't understand my art.”

I tried to think of something else to say, but was unsuccessful. Deidara turned on the radio—classical music. I wasn't too surprised. My mother, in trying to get me to listen to classical music, had once said that all great artists listen to it. I wondered if maybe I should start after all.

After about fifteen minutes, Deidara pulled into the driveway of a house I assumed was his, and we went inside. After taking off his jacket, he proceeded to give a brief tour. He had a very nice house. It wasn't large, but it as spacious, and the furnishings were tasteful, if a bit eclectic. Well, he was an artist. Last of all, Deidara led me to a spare bedroom at the very back of the house.

“This will be your room, un,” he said. It was considerably smaller than a lot of the other rooms, but it was still much larger than my room back at home. A double bed stood in the far corner, beside the wide window, and the room was complete with bedside table, desk, and a large dresser. “You can decorate however you like. I don't really care, un,” Deidara continued. He paused. “Do you have any questions?”

I thought about it. “Oh, Iwato-sensei,” I began, remembering something I needed to do.

He stiffened again, and I stopped talking. “Alright, three rules, un,” he said. “First, I go to the basement to be alone. Don't bother me while I'm down there unless it's an emergency. Second, don't touch any of my stuff without my permission. And third, never call me by my family name. Understand, un?”

“Um, okay,” I said. The first two made sense, but the third rule seemed a little odd to me. I almost asked about it, but then I decided that would be a bad idea.

“What was your question, un?”

“Do you have a computer I can borrow? I want to email my family and let them know I'm okay and stuff.”

“You ran away without leaving a note or anything?” I shrugged. “I do,” he said. He paused, and a mischievous smirk spread across his face. I had barely known Deidara a day, and already I was starting to hate that smirk. “But you can't use it, un.”

“What? What do you mean I can't use it?” I cried.

“First, you have to complete a painting that I approve of, un.”

I blinked at him. “What?” There was no telling how long that would take, and he knew it too!

He shrugged. “I guess you should get started now, yeah? There's an easel under the bed. Paint me some flowers, un.”

“Fl-flowers? You want me to paint you flowers, while my parents are probably sitting at home thinking I've been kidnapped or murdered or something?”

“It was your decision. You can always go back, un.”

I bit my lip. He had a point. “Fine,” I said.

“That's what I thought, un.” He grinned and left the room, leaving me alone to fume at him, and at my own stupidity.