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May 20. 8.45 PM
One year Later
A whole year ago he had been to one of these events and he had not enjoyed it. He had been watching then, not participating and he had not enjoyed it. A whole year ago, he had been on the verge of failing high school. Not because he wasn't smart, he just didn't like it. Didn't like cliques, didn't like sports, didn't like classes, didn't like teachers. No one liked him either for the most part. No one thought he was smart enough for school. Too drugged up, fucked up and lazy. Even he had trouble believing that all it took was a graduated senior and a promise of a Porsche of his choice for his very own to nudge him alone. There was also the matter of two years of college, but that could come later.
Deidara was happy his last name was in the beginning of the long list of graduates for his class. He might have finished with grades that no one expected, but that didn't mean he wanted to stay in this formal, ugly-as-shit dress and hat they made
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Summer was drawing to an end, fighting against the fall for more time in the year. Despite it nearly being mid October, the weather was warm - painfully warm. The sun beat down on the heads of those walking the ground under it's rays as they went about their daily business. Those owning cars had the benefit of a roof and air conditioning, but those that walked loathed the transfer of buildings they required to go through their day. They were the ones that acknowledged the sun most, glaring at it angrily or simply complaining to those suffering with them. Green was nearly finished being overtaken by the warm colors of summer and all anyone wanted was to hid indoors or relax in a body of water to regain the liquid lost from sweat. Students filing into the parking lot of the high school didn't bother with the colors around them in their hurry to get out of the sun.
A black Mazda rolled into t
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Pack and kisses. Pack and lecture. Pack and advice. God he wished he could just pack with out the other stuff involved. It was making the whole situation because he kept having to pause to listen. He loved his mother. He really did, but did she really thing that he would forget to do his laundry at college? Forget to check expiration dates before buying food and drinks? Just because his mother had done nearly everything for him didn't mean he didn't know how to take care of himself. He could even cook a little. Well... ramen, peanut butter and jelly, grilled cheese, tuna sandwiches and rice. But you could live off that stuff. And he did know what was healthy for him. She had been trying to give him healthy recipes until Itachi finally pointed out to her that the school had a cafeteria and he would be getting his meals
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Daichi had spent the first hour of Itachi's first visit to his garage showing the Uchiha around. It was there he got to see the rest his eyes didn't intake on his first glance around. If it hadn't been for the structures holding the cars, their voices would have echoed a lot. Up the stairs was the open second floor filled with chairs and sofas and even a card table. This was the place to relax and hang out. There were a few bunks against the wall with heavy curtains for privacy, but the majority of the bunks was on the first floor behind a heavy garage door. Or a regular door, if you didn't want to make a racket opening the larger door. The bunking room was large, though it didn't look so with the bunks that appeared to be built into the two walls they lined. Through the door on the other end was the bathroom which was equally large. Itachi thought he counted at least six showers and a row of sinks before he was pulled back into the main part of the garage.
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The clouds above rumbled above, too far away to be anything more then rain and grumbles. There wasn't even lightning in the sky. The sky had been crying for three days now. Almost as though it were sad that Deidara hadn't been to school in three days. No that couldn't be it, Itachi decided as he drummed his finger against the wheel of the car. Why would anyone be sad in the absence of him? No, the only thing people would be sad about is that they couldn't get their drugs. Most would be happy he wasn't in school. Not him. Not Uchiha Itachi. Uchiha Itachi hated Deidara and was pissed off that he hadn't been to school as much as he wished he would never return. However if he didn't return he would not get an A on this assignment and it was due in two days. This had gone on too long. He did not want to do this, b
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Despite his loss in the bet, Deidara got his night out to party like he wanted. It was free too, though Itachi wasn't the one paying for it. Everyone had missed him. Everyone wanted to know where he had been. Everyone wanted to celebrate his return. If it wasn't for the bitterness he'd left the Uchiha estate with, it would have been an excellent night. He lost count of his drinks, forgotten in the blur of dancing bodies, the buzz of drugs. He enjoyed himself, but there was still the edge of angry disappointment in him. He hadn't known. Suspected, but hadn't known. He had thought his offer of tutoring was the attempts to get closer to him, trying to get him to do what he wanted; maybe impress Daichi, get up on his good side. To get his father angry... to get back at him for his cruelty towards Itachi. Perhaps it was a little of it
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One would imagine how difficult it must be to get up in the morning after a evening of pain and a night of silence to return to school and once again be the perfect student. A model student, a genius, and an Uchiha. No one knew of the life of the eldest Uchiha brother outside of school save for his brother, not even his mother was aware of it. The night before, as always when problems happened, Sasuke had come into his room with a sandwich and drink for him and asked if he needed anything. Itachi, studying as though nothing had happened, told him he was fine and should do his home work. Those in the world who share similar lives and wish to hide them understand the processes one goes to cover evidence away from others. Make up was easy to acquire and only an adequate amount was needed to hide anything on his face. Long sleeves, forged doctor's notes, fight stories. Thankful
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Itachi stared at the TV, taking in ever word spoken through the speakers. Arrested. He thought he wad dreaming, but no matter how many times he pinched himself, the headlines still read 'School Article Raises Questions', 'Uchiha Power Abuser?', 'Head of Police: Arrested!', 'Uchiha's Eldest Missing! Uchiha Prime Suspect!'. The article was being printed all over the local and a few national papers, spread online and spoken about on the TV. The reporter on the screen was reading a few lines from the article. It talked about police brutality to children on the streets, abusing their power on and off the streets while keeping a kind and caring face towards justice.
Though clearly an amateur writer, this anonymous teenager has brought a new look at the once looked up to head of police, the reporter said. He went onto explain how investigators had looked into the article, speaking to commo
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Itachi was starting to feel sorry for Deidara. He wasn't dumb enough to say so out loud, but he was. Ever since the rest of the... group? Team? Gang? What exactly did those who worked for Daichi call themselves? Well, when they found out Deidara was hunkering down to study instead of race, to grade his mock test scores instead of working on cars, to read text books instead of go clubbing, to ask a question about science instead of engines, their teasing went up so much that Deidara was starting to spend less time away from his two living areas. He stayed at school until a teacher or librarian told him he had to leave; stayed in the bookstore until it closed, but being one to stay up later, he was having difficulty finding a place to stay later and not get bombarded with teases.
Every day after school when he didn't have practice, Itachi was at Daichi's garage learning about working on cars.
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Itachi winced at the bright lights around him, squinting as he tried to see where he was. White walls, white floors, fluorescent lights... it could only be a hospital. He'd been to them many times when his father's hand got out of control. No one would have believed any one's story but the head of police. He was a reckless child, prone to accidents. He hated coming to the hospital, his father hovering over them, not to make sure his eldest was alright, but to make sure he could give excuses to why his son was so beat up. His mother crying next to the bed, soaking up her husband's story and sobbing for Itachi to be more careful. Why was he here now though? He couldn't remember. Through the circle of doctors, nurses and parents, he saw Deidara against the wall, watching everything unfold. His usual arrogance was gone, staring like a deer caught in headli