A beautiful memoir I found that really made me think about alot of things.
Unrestrained – A Memoir to Deidara
You always said you wanted to be free.
How you always longed to soar in the endless blue of the sky among the clouds. How you longed to be free, without any responsibilities tying you to the ground.
Even though that scratch through your headband severed all your responsibilities and duties you owed to your village, Iwagakure, you still weren’t sated. You wanted to be uncontrolled, free from the choking and shameful secrets of your past. Free of expectations, free to do everything your way.
You once said this world choked you.
Can you breathe now?
You always said you wanted your life to end with a bang.
An enormous explosion that shook the ground and the souls of everyone around you. One that they would never forget.
An enormous firework that made the sky rain blood and tore your very foundations apart. A blast that would never make anyone question your potential.
Then, you would be perfect. It would be true art. It would be beautiful.
Deidara, I don’t understand.
You were beautiful. You were a true artist when you were living.
Why go so far?
Why do such thing to prove your beliefs? Why throw your life away like that when you knew you would wound us all?
Did you perhaps, in desperation, think no-one would miss you, no-one would remember what you were like?
You were wrong.
You were always so confident, that knowing, cocky smile always playing around your lips, your visible eye mocking your opponent by staring at him without a single trace of fear.
You never gave up – not even when you had both arms torn off by two different people. You only gave them a grin and blew your art up in their faces, watching with a satisfied smirk as you once again slipped through the fingers of Konoha’s finest.
You loved the danger, the thrill of flying through the night, dodging arrows and bombs blindly hurled at you, the wind tearing at your cloak, fluttering those long blonde bangs of yours that made dozens of girls faint in delight, and that made Hidan label you ‘girly’ (only to have a bird blow up in his face seconds later).
You were never ashamed of who you were, never once attempting to disguise anything.
You wore the slashed Iwa headband with pride, never once did anything to hide your extra hand-mouths.
Others would have been ashamed or disgusted bearing such ‘deformity’ of ‘mutations’ but not you. You proudly flashed others a toothy grin with your hands, chuckling as they ran away screaming.
You never hid your unique opinions of art, or your wonderful creations.
You confidently let the world know – ‘ART IS A BANG!!”
However criticized or frowned upon, you molded your clay creatures with pride, feeling the rush of euphoria their exploding deaths bought every time you sent them hurtling towards their target. Only you could see the true moments of perfection in those few fleeting seconds.
The rest of us could only get a glimpse of it by looking at the amazement written all over your face.
Are you happy now? Are you satisfied with your fate? You must be overjoyed to be no longer bound by mortality and its limits.
Life no longer holds you to Earth.
Will you miss walking the Earth, Deidara?
Will you miss walking through moon-lit forests, the trees swaying in the crisp evening breeze, the air full of dancing fireflies?
Will you miss the rain, the heavy moisture running down your face, soaking your troubles away as the thunder crackled above your head?
Will you miss the kiss of the sunlight? Will you miss the heavy scent of wood and earth after a downpour? The one that used to tickle your nose when you collected clay from the muddy riverbanks?
Will you miss your teammates? The organization that, even though you said you despised it, became your family?
The jokes you shared with Kisame, the cynical bitchings you had every evening with Hidan, the shared respect for nature you and Zetsu always discussed, the never-ending arguments with Tobi.
Would you ever know how much your teammates grieve for you?
Even though they never show it, restrained by the rigorous shinobi rules, they miss your loud exclamations, the bright smile, the explosions that always shook the lair. It tears into their souls not to hear anyone lecturing to Tobi about art and responsibilities, not to hear the once annoying ‘un’ after every sentence.
Even Zetsu’s black side mentioned that it seemed that with your death, all optimism left the Akatsuki lair, leaving it cold and empty.
Kisame yesterday admitted how much he now regretted not saying goodbye when you left for your final mission – and how he never thanked you for always cheering him up when he was depressed over his ‘blue-ness’.
Did you hear Hidan mutter how the evenings were ‘no fucking fun anymore without that blonde bastard and his art talk’?
Do you hear him in the evenings? He prays for you every night, asking Jashin-sama to forgive you. “He might be an insane idiot and has sinned both in the past and in his death, but he’s a good guy and was a great friend. Help him, Jashin-sama.”
He told Kakuzu he was sure in spite of your explosive nature and various gory sins, not to mention your suicide, he was certain you’d get into Heaven.
Are you and Sasori reunited now? You two are bound to end up at the same place, knowing the bittersweet twists of fate.
Have you admitted how much you missed him? Have you admitted how every time you thought of him, you felt your own heart being torn apart by those katanas that pierced his, and ended his life?
Can you two finally admit that you need each other, despite all impossible obstacles? Screw that shinobi rule about not showing or needing emotions. That’s a bloody lie.
How could you have fought without passion or vengeance? How can you exist without caring? Did those who made up these rules consider that?
Do you feel now, Deidara? Are you truly free now?
Do you ride of one of your birds now, smiling down at the rest of us, living in this cruel and cynical world?
You are probably up there, surfing the ever-changing winds, laughing at Sasuke. How he tried to destroy you, and to get what he wanted out of you – but in the end, he gave you what you wanted and got nothing. He got neither the information he craved, nor the satisfaction to kill you.
And to top it off, all his intentions backfired. Instead of destroying you, this battle immortalized you and your masterpieces.
You were you so young. We never thought the bony hands of the Grim Reaper would reach to claim your soul so soon…
As I write these lines, beneath me, people bustle, cars hurry past, their tires screeching as they stop, drowning the sidewalk with the muddy reminders of the monsoon.
As my pen touches the paper, the lines are momentarily blurred by sudden, unexpected tears.
Although this will sound idiotic to some people, but I hang my head, mourning.
Even though you were just a character, a creation of someone’s imagination, I loved you.
I didn’t know you well enough to love you in a romantic sense, but you found your way into my heart.
I wish I knew you better. I wish I could embrace you, talk to you, listen to you and protect you from what ultimately caused your downfall.
I wish I could still wait every week excitedly, waiting eagerly for what cool stunt you would pull in the next chapter.
And even though you weren’t real, my stomach clenches, my throat burns and my chest feels hollow, as if the clammy hands of sorrow have gauged my heart right out.
I mourn for you, Deidara.
You inspired my best pieces of art and writing.
And even though, ‘officially’, you’re gone, you will continue to inspire me in the future.
You will live in the writing, art and hearts of those who love you.
You won’t disappear.
We won’t let you.
So rest in peace, Senpai.
Even though you were always against Sasori’s ideas of art, we will preserve your ideas and your personality.
You and your art will live forever.
It’s a promise.
Un.
