Deidara dies by blowing himself up while fighting Sasuke. Then he hatches from a purple egg. Hilarity ensues.
"Art is a Bang, un!"
The Akatsuki's terrorist bomber dies using his C0 jutsu against Sasuke Uchiha. However, instead of staying dead, Deidara finds himself reborn as a small purple dragon in a land of colorful ponies. Hilarity ensues.
(Just a short little side project. Expect infrequent updates.)
“Are you still calm? Shouldn’t you be worried at least a little?” Deidara asked Sasuke. The two young men knelt on opposite sides of a small clearing in the woods. Both were exhausted and wounded, but Deidara worse off than Sasuke. “Come on, un.”
Sasuke just stayed motionless and unresponsive to Deidara’s words. “You’re about to be killed by my art,” Deidara said. The passive teen across from him again made no acknowledgement of the blond’s existence, other than to keep staring at Deidara. “Ha… Ha ha ha… Huh ha ha ha… HUH HA HA HA HA! THAT IS WHAT ANNOYS ME THE MOST ABOUT YOU AND YOUR BROTHER! YOU THINK YOU ARE JUST SO COOL!” Deidara roared in rage, a complete one-eighty in mood from his laughter a moment before. “Those eyes, those overconfident eyes make me so sick. Your eyes, always judging me and my art, I’ll never forgive them for that.”
Raising his reattached arm, Deidara said, “you have absolutely no respect for my art, I can tell that you don’t. I CAN NEVER FORGIVE THOSE EYES THAT JUST IGNORE MY ART!” He gasped for breath, the pain of his wounds making it hard to breathe.
In a bored tone, Sasuke said, “I couldn’t care less about all of that. I just want you to tell me where I can find Itachi.”
Deidara bent over, rage clouding his mind. However, before he said anything, he swallowed the feeling and took a calming breath. Sasuke, meanwhile, deactivated his bloodline limit. Deidara responded, “So you’ve retracted your Sharingan? Do you really take me that lightly?”
Ripping off his blue shirt, Deidara exposed the black symbol surrounding a stitched wound over his heart. Placing his palm over it, he used the mouth on his hand to cut the stitches. Grabbing a ball of clay with one hand and pulling the stitches with the other, he revealed that the wound was actually a mouth on his chest. Laughing, he fed the clay to his chest mouth. The veins in his skin turned a dark black while his entire body started to turn transparent.
“This is my ultimate art,” Deidara declared. “This time, I’m going to detonate myself. In death, I shall become art itself! No one has seen an explosion like this, one that leaves a scar on the very earth itself. And then, I’ll receive more admiration for my art than ever before! But then while I’ll be admired, you’ll most definitely be dead!”
Sasuke tried to stand, tried to flee, but was unable to pick himself off of the ground. “This explosion will cover ten kilometers,” Deidara boasted. “You can’t run away from this one, un!” As his body continued to fade out of existence, the black veins contracting towards his heart, Deidara declared, “Tremble. Be afraid. Recoil in despair. Cower in awe! And cry your heart out! Because my art…”
At this point, Deidara’s body had disappeared and all of the veins had constricted into a black egg shaped ball marked with two eyes and a jagged mouth. Sasuke recoiled, again trying to get away from the suicidal bomber, but to no avail. The floating egg cracked, a stream of light emerging from within. The light grew brighter as more and more cracks appeared. With a cry of “Katsu,” the egg opened its mouth and exploded.
“… IS AN EXPLOSION!”
It was dark. That was the first thing that came to Deidara’s mind. He could tell that his eyes were closed, but even then, he could tell that there was no light beyond them. It was cramped. He was trapped, encased within something. Yet it felt natural, like he was supposed to be here. The mad artist could not explain why, but he knew that this was where he was supposed to be. The odd thing was that the last memory he had was blowing himself up; Deidara wondered if he really was dead.
Outside, he could hear muffled voices. In an attempt to discern what was being said, he reached within himself for his chakra so that he may amplify his hearing. However, upon doing so, his chakra felt odd. The tenketsu felt all out of place and his chakra felt… off. ‘Warmer’ would be the word he would use, or perhaps ‘denser.’
Ignoring the changes in his chakra and chakra network, Deidara focused his body’s energy in his ears. “…Take it to room 108,” a man’s voice said.
“Understood.”
When his prison started moving, Deidara figured that it was safe to assume that he was the ‘it’ that they were referring to. After a minute of listening to the sound of horse hooves on stone and the voices of a random passerby or two, Deidara’s prison came to a rest.
As the hoof steps retreated, a woman’s voice called out, “Well, Ms. Sparkle?”
From just outside of his prison, Deidara heard the sound of a small girl nervously laughing. The girl’s chakra signature fluctuated, as if she was using a jutsu. ‘Is she a kunoichi?’ Deidera thought.
Apparently, by the sounds of her struggle, the desired effect was not occurring. Eventually, the girl gave up. “I’m sorry I wasted your time,” she solemnly said.
Suddenly, Deidara’s prison was shaken by a huge chakra induced explosion in the distance. The artist silently moaned, whishing he could have seen the artistic majesty of that explosion.
The girl, however, had other plans. A huge burst of chakra washed over him; had he not just felt the same signature moments before, Deidara would have sworn he was next to a Jōnin performing an A-Ranked jutsu instead of a young girl. A blast of chakra impacted his prison. Suddenly, his eyes were assaulted with light.
As he blinked to clear his eyes and took his first breath in several minutes, Deidara was struck by a second blast of the powerful chakra. As the jutsu took hold, he could feel his body rapidly expanding against his will. The bomber’s head crashed through the ceiling, revealing to him that he was in an unfamiliar city. “What the hell?” he asked in a deep voice that was not his own.
Within a few seconds, the jutsu ended and he found himself shrunken down. Next to him stood two horses, one purple but regular sized, and one white and absolutely giant. The larger of the two said, “Twilight Sparkle.”
Sheepishly, Twilight Sparkle, apparently the smaller of the two, said, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...”
“You have a very special gift. I don't think I've ever come across a unicorn with your raw abilities,” the larger said.
“Huh?” Twilight asked, confused.
“But you need to learn to tame these abilities through focused study,” the larger continued.
Again, it seemed as if the purple unicorn could not comprehend the situation. “Huh?”
“Twilight Sparkle, I'd like to make you my own personal protégé here at the school.”
“HUH?”
“Well?”
“YES!” the mare exclaimed.
“One other thing, Twilight,” said the giant, winged horse.
“More? My cutie mark! Yes yes yes yes yes yes!”
“Pardon me, un,” Deidera said in a now tiny voice, “But can someone please explain where I am? Or what I am? Or who and what the hell you all are?”
As Twilight, Princess Celestia, and Deidara walked down the halls of the school, the latter asked, “So you’re telling me that I got reincarnated as a dragon in a world full of pastel ponies, un?” Deidara asked. “Now I’ve got to go make art. I’ve got to blow off some steam.” The bomber looked down at his clawed hands. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw all five fingers and two mouths. With a twist of his chakra, Deidara confirmed that his bloodline limit was still in place, to his even greater relief. “Got any clay?”
“So you are a sculptor?” Princess Celestia asked. “I would love to see your work. I am an art connoisseur myself.”
Deidara grinned wildly. “Then I’m sure that you’ll appreciate the beauty of a moment. Art it a bang, un!”
Turning to one of the faculty members, the solar princess asked, “Would you be as kind as to lead us to one of the art classrooms?”
“Certainly, your highness,” the unicorn mare replied.
Upon reaching the art classroom, Deidara sprinted as fast as he could to the containers of clay; having instinctively enhanced his movements with chakra, the incomplete shunhin made Deidara seem to flicker and appear next to the container. As he literally dove in to get the clay, the two unicorns and one alicorn found themselves at a loss for words.
“This is some good clay, un. It takes to my chakra real well. This’ll do.” After hopping out of the box, which was literally three times his size, Deidara turned and picked the heavy box up and carried it over his head to the door. “Nice arms. I think I could get used to this body.” Deidara paused at the door. “Well, are you coming? My art is done best outside.”
“Oh, of course,” Celestia said.
The horned trio followed the newborn dragon outside. Though the box of clay he was carrying was comically big, Deidara refused to let one of them carry it. “I’ve got to build this body’s strength up If I’m ever going to get anywhere in life,” he answered when questioned by Twilight.
Upon reaching the school grounds, Deidara set the box in the grass and climbed into it to retrieve a ball of clay. Returning with a blob, he set most of it down on the ground and pinched off a small ball.
To the horror of the ponies watching him, a mouth full of sharp teeth opened up on the palm of his hand. “GYAAHH!” the unicorn teacher screamed. “What in Celestia’s name is that on your claw?”
As Deidara began kneading the red clay with his mouths, he said, “The Iwagakure Kinjutsu. It gave me these mouths so that I may knead my chakra into the clay so that I can create the ultimate art! Twilight-chan, do you like butterflies?” Deidara held out his claw to show the sculpture he had just created.
“Oh, it’s very pretty. I like it!” the unicorn foal said.
“Watch this. C1: Butterfly.” The sculpture came to life. Flapping it’s small wings, the clay butterfly lifted itself into the air, much to the joy of the little filly.
“Hey, can you teach me how to do that? I want to make living art!” said Twilight.
“Very impressive. I’ve never seen a dragon use magic before. I can see why you call yourself an artist,” Princess Celestia commented.
As his creation gained altitude, Deidara watched it go. “First, I have no idea what magic is. I use chakra, un. I felt antsy, so I put enough chakra into that for at least a C2: Dragon. Second, it’s not the butterfly that is the art. That’s only my brush.”
“What do you mean?” Celestia asked.
“Art is something fleeting, something you only see for an instant. A flash of light, a brief sound, the beauty of a moment, creation and destruction in a second, un.” Deidara looked up. Deeming his creation to be sufficiently far by now, he said, “Inspiration is brief, un. Art… ART IS AN EXPLOSION! KATSU!”
In the direction the butterfly had flown, there was an absolutely massive explosion of green flame, bright enough to make the sun look dull. Behind them, many of the school’s windows shattered, the tinker of falling glass going unheard by the ringing ears.
Deidara, the only one who had remained standing, commented, “Hm… For the amount of chakra I put in, it came out twice as big as I expected. The green flame is new. I love it, un.”
Princess Celestia, as soon as she stood up, galloped into the building to help the injured. Meanwhile, the voices of the filly’s parents drifted out of the damaged school. “Twilight! Twilight! Where are you?”
“I’m outside, Mom, Dad!” the filly replied.
Upon emerging, they raced towards Twilight. Her mother cried, “Oh, sweetie, we were so worried that something had happened to you.”
“I’m ok, mom.”
Night Light, her father, complained, “What is it with all of these explosions today? What happened here.”
“Too much chakra in my art,” Deidara commented as he shrugged. The adult ponies stared at the baby dragon, unsure of what to make of his strange comment.
“Oh! Deidara did it!” Twilight said. “He put this clay in his weird mouth thingies and then made it into an exploding butterfly. Can he teach me how to do that?”
“Diedara?” Twiligt Velvet asked. “How could such a small dragon make such a huge explosion? And NO, Twilight, you may NOT learn how to make explosions.”
“You have no respect for the art or the artist, un,” Deidara pouted. “I’m a reincarnated S-Class Iwagakure nuke-nin and I have the bakuton bloodline. I used to work with the Explosion corps, blowing stuff up, un. Explosions are my art!”
Night Light blinked. “… I barely understood a word of that. However, I think you need to re-evaluate yourself if that is what you call art. You could have killed somepony! You could have killed my daughter!”
“I know. If people die in my art, then it’s all the more beautiful. I killed myself in my last life by blowing myself up,” Deidara stated, much to the horror of the ponies around him. “At least my art is better than that horror show that master Sasori calls art.”
“I’m almost afraid to know,” said Velvet.
“He murders people, then turns their corpses into puppets to use so he can kill even more people. Worst of all, he thinks art should last forever!” the little dragon ranted, ignoring the looks of shock on his audience’s faces.
Princess Celestia stared down at Deidara. At over five times his height, the sight should have intimidated the ex-human; however, Deidara was a shinobi and, more importantly, had fought Akimichi clan members before. Celestia’s giant stature did not faze him.
“You are lucky that there were no injuries in the explosion,” the princess said. “However, there was still considerable damage done to the building itself. This puts me in an interesting conundrum; how do I punish you? In the eyes of the law, you are most definitely a minor. However, you possess memories of your past life, meaning that you are older than you appear. Hmm… your sentence shall be community service. You will help repair the school building, and then you will remain in the castle and explain your abilities to us. If they can be taught, I want you to teach them to my protégé.”
