The Bomber's Heir + Chapter 2

"Sasori... you know something's wrong."

Sasori looked up at Itachi, his expression pained. "I  
know..." The Sharingan user folded his arms.

"So where is he now?" Itachi asked, obviously referring to  
the blonde.

"Sleeping."

"So... has he talked to you at all about... what happened?"  
Itachi's voice faltered slightly and he frowned. Sasori  
swallowed hard and shook his head. "Have you ever really  
thought about /why/ Deidara's getting sick all of a sudden?"

Sasori's eyes flashed and he looked up at Itachi. "What are  
you getting at?"

Itachi took a deep breath. "I'm just saying... when it  
happened, Deidara was henge-ed into a woman, right?" He said,  
keeping his tone light.

Sasori nodded. "He was..."

"So... what if... you know... something happened?" Itachi  
seemed to be having more and more trouble with every word.  
Sasori's heart raced as the Uchiha finished speaking, and he  
felt his eyes widen.

"Something... Itachi, what are you saying?"

"Sasori... what if Deidara's pregnant?"

Sasori felt a wild urge to laugh that was quickly replaced by  
disgust and then became horror and then finally decided on  
panic. "Oh my god." Sasori leaned heavily against the wall,  
putting his hands up to his face. "Oh my god..."

Itachi moved forward slightly. "We don't know that!" He said,  
putting one hand up defensively. "I'm just saying... you  
might want to keep an eye on him just to see if the sickness  
fades away or if it stays... and if he... gains weight, or...  
something, then we'll know if he is or isn't."

The puppet clenched his teeth together and nodded, heart  
hammering. "Have you discussed this with any of the others?"  
He asked after a moment, noting the quivery tone in his  
voice.

Itachi shook his head. "No. We should wait until we know for  
sure."

"What are we going to tell Deidara?" Sasori asked  
tentatively. He didn't want to picture breaking the news to  
the bomber. He was so young, so innocent. It would kill him.

The Uchiha shrugged. "I don't know. He might even get  
suspicious of it himself and ask... it would be best to wait  
for now, Sasori."

The puppet nodded, making eye contact with the ground.  
"Yeah..." A sudden thought struck him and he looked up at  
Itachi. "Do you think he'll get rid of it?"

Itachi rolled his eyes. "Sasori, I don't know. Probably." He  
sighed, and folded his arms again. "I'm going to go meet up  
with Kisame. We have work to do. Remember. Keep an eye on  
him." He looked over his shoulder at Sasori one more time,  
and then exited the kitchen, leaving Sasori to groan  
desperately into his hands and slide down the wall.

He remained there for... he didn't know how long. Maybe a  
half-hour. He would have been there longer, had a certain  
blonde not entered.

"Danna?"

Sasori jumped, and looked up into Deidara's baby-blue eyes.  
"Hey... how are you feeling?" He asked weakly, trying to keep  
his face passive.

"Hungry again, un."

-----

Deidara's condition slowly seemed to fade over a few weeks.  
However, Deidara's personality was taking a strict decline.  
The blonde grew rather, in short, bitchy, snapping at people  
and his mood taking constant, violent swings from one extreme  
to the next.

Other than this, however, Deidara's appearance took on no  
visible change.

Or, that's what Sasori thought.


Deidara was a very sound sleeper. Sound enough, Sasori found,  
that he could enter the blonde's room without him stirring.

It was dark. The only light came from the digital alarm  
clock, which cast an eerie blue glow over the blonde's  
sleeping face. Deidara slept on his back with his arms  
splayed at his sides, the perfect position for what Sasori  
was about to do.

Heart pounding, Sasori slowly drew back the blankets covering  
him. The blonde didn't stir. Sasori stared at Deidara's  
chest, his stomach, covered by a plain black t-shirt that he  
wore when he slept. Hands shaking, Sasori slowly pulled up  
the fabric of Deidara's shirt, afraid what he would see.

He had good reason to be afraid.

The once-toned muscles of Deidara's stomach were gone,  
replaced by a smooth, even surface that a slight pudge could  
be seen. Sasori closed his eyes, dropped the fabric, and  
backed away, feeling oddly cold.