Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ In A Master's Hands ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Masashi Kishimoto does.

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“Entertain me.” Deidara rocked back in the single wobbling chair, staring at the ceiling. He was moulding a ball of white clay, turning it over repeatedly between his fingers like the action was an art itself.

 

“What am I supposed to do today, Daddy?”

 

Deidara threw the wad of clay to the shivering child, who watched it move past her face and thud onto the opposite stone wall. “I'm not your father,” he said flatly. “I've told you that every time.” Then he snickered. “Do something with that. Make it nice, un.”

 

The child picked up the fist-sized sphere and blinked at it. “What is this?”

 

“Do not ask questions. That's not what you're here for, un. Make something out of that. Make it nice.”

 

For a while the girl's thin hands worked over it, not knowing to do. It was soft and had a curious smell to it. After 30 minutes she had finished. Her legs wobbled from all the standing, but she walked over to him and placed it in his lap. His eyes followed her, then fell down to the white art in his lap. He picked it up and rolled it over in his palm. It was a perfectly-crafted bird. Every detail unique, every feather made.

 

“Very nice, un,” he remarked. He turned it over in his hands, then frowned at the splotch of brown it had attained from its fall. “It's dirty though. Do it better next time.”

 

The child's shaking was almost uncontrollable now. Through her teeth came a strained reply. “It was fun,” she said. “That smell is really nice. What's that smell?”

 

Deidara sniffed non-commitedly. “I told you not to ask questions, un.” he said quietly. He walked slowly up to her, and moved his smooth hand over her cheek. “But, you did really well with it.”

 

The little girl smiled and closed her little eyes. His hand was so warm. And the smell so…soothing. It made her more restful each time.

 

“Will you…” she ventured, losing confidence slightly as he stopped at the entrance. “Will you come tomorrow?”

 

Deidara turned fully, a curious expression on his face. “You don't learn, do you, un?” At this her grey eyes fell. Behind his back, Deidara formed another wad of clay, and closed her fingers around it. “Keep it. It's your present.” The little girl stared at it as he left, and brought the precious clay up to her face. It was so warm and had such a nice smell… The girl closed her little eyes and imagined what she would make with the blank thing in her hands. Maybe the clouds on Daddy's cloak…

 

He heard the thud behind him. This time, he knew it had not been the clay. `That nice smell…' Cell 4 was finished. Deidara moved on to Cell 5, where a thin little boy was waiting. Deidara knew he couldn't mourn. Master Sasori likes small parts.

 

He placed the wobbling chair in the middle of the room.

 

“Entertain me, un.”