The countryside of the Land of Earth was as desolate as ever, with a few small hills surrounding withered elm and locust trees.
The changing seasons seemed to leave little mark on this remote place.
Aside from the deeper desolation of autumn and winter, everything remained monotonous. The winding dirt path stretched crookedly, as if barely clinging to the distant horizon, flanked by yellowed grass that had already surrendered to the encroaching frost.
Snow fell steadily from the sky, blanketing the vast wilderness until its original appearance was completely obscured.
Yet, on this road, so barren that even merchants avoided it in such harsh weather, a single set of footprints trudged forward.
Deidara stepped one foot after another into the untouched snow.
The endless white flakes gave the illusion that the world had always been this way. A layer of frost had long settled on his shoulders, shaking loose with each step.
"Damn this weather." The cold dampness was far from ideal for someone with Earth Release, and his dislike was inevitable.
Still, with Chakra protecting him, his body wouldn't freeze. Clicking his tongue, Deidara continued his grudging march.
His destination was just ahead. Through the veil of snow, he could make out the terrain, rolling hills, pristine snow reflecting the pale sky, as if purifying his vision.
A lone wooden house stood beneath an elm tree, nestled against a hill, the only splash of color in the white landscape.
"Why the hell did Sasori-danna choose to live here?" Deidara muttered.
He had traveled all the way to the Land of Earth to find his former senior in Akatsuki, Sasori.
Unbeknownst to him, a certain temporary teammate, Logan, had once stood in this very spot and thought, 'Damn, this place is barren as hell.'
"But I don't have a choice right now." A sudden gust of wind slapped his face, nearly ruining his signature hairstyle. Picking up his pace, he sighed.
Deidara was still wearing his black-and-red Akatsuki cloak, though the tattered fabric and dried bloodstains were barely concealed by the frost.
Lately, life hadn't been kind to him…
His mind drifted back to his ambush against Sasuke and the Kyubi's Jinchuriki of Konoha in the Land of Fire. Everything that followed had been… frustrating, to say the least.
He'd charged in with gusto, only to nearly die, no need to dwell on that.
After being dragged away from the battlefield by his 'junior', Tobi, he'd barely clung to life in a cave while the outside world turned upside down in ways he couldn't have imagined.
At first, lying in that cave, he'd gnashed his teeth, plotting revenge. But then the pain knocked him out, and he almost didn't wake up.
When he did, fever, dizziness, and the aftermath of his injuries hit him like a tidal wave.
Groggy, he suddenly jolted.
'Wait… where the hell is Tobi?! Why isn't he healing me? Does he have a death wish?!'
Realizing something was off, Deidara abandoned his hopes of being pampered by his junior. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move.
His injuries were severe, as every twitch sent agony rippling through him, and one wrong move could've been his last.
Miraculously, Deidara had survived despite going untreated for so long.
Years as a Missing-nin had made him a decent medic, and through sheer stubbornness, he patched himself up.
The process was excruciating, though, and he couldn't help but resent Tobi, 'You carried me out, why not finish the job?!'
It took half a month before he could move freely again.
He didn't bother checking the northern forest where he'd fought the Sasuke and Konoha's Ninja. For one, he was in no condition to, and two, after so long, they'd be long gone.
Laying low in a nearby town, his recovery sped up.
Another half-month passed, and just as he felt ready to make his comeback, a storm of news swept across the Ninja World.
The leader of Akatsuki, Pain, had attacked Konoha, and died in battle.
While Deidara had been miserably recovering, the world had moved on without him. His ring had been silent, and he'd assumed everything was normal. But reality had outpaced his wildest expectations.
Stunned, he sat in silence, absorbing the chaos through rumors and whispers.
It was like waking up to a world he no longer recognized. His fight with Sasuke, his battle with Logan, Tobi's mysterious Sharingan, Zetsu's scheming, Konoha reduced to rubble…
The sheer scale of it left him adrift.
…
The relentless shocks left Deidara speechless, and, deep down, a little lost.
'With all this happening… did everyone just assume I was dead?'
A nameless weight settled in his chest. Under the starry sky, alone, he wrestled with his thoughts until exhaustion dragged him into sleep.
When he woke, his mind was clearer.
For days, he moved cautiously, toning down his usual brashness.
The more information he gathered, the more he realized revenge against Sasuke would have to wait. After much deliberation, he decided to seek out Sasori.
"It's been ages since I was last in the Land of Earth…"
Approaching the wooden house, Deidara muttered under his breath.
Though born here, he'd never felt much attachment to this country. The yellow wastelands, the drab earthen houses, none of it sparked nostalgia.
'Explosions are way more interesting.'
Stepping onto the creaky wooden porch, he glanced at the snow-laden railing and roof, mildly concerned about the structural integrity.
Rubbing his hands together, he adjusted his tattered cloak, hoping his senior wouldn't judge his appearance too harshly.
He knocked.
"Sasori-danna, you in there?"
The snowy silence amplified his voice, carrying it far.
No response.
"Sasori-danna!"
"…"
'Hmph.' Shaking off the initial awkwardness, Deidara smoothly transitioned into full-volume mode, pounding the door,
"Sasori-danna! Sasori!!! It's me, Deidara…!"
Bang, bang, bang…
Snow shook loose from the doorframe, but the house remained unmoved.
Deidara frowned, 'This doesn't add up. He shouldn't be on a mission, not with the leader dead.'
The information he gathered had shown no trace of Sasori's movements. Reassured, he yelled a few more times, but still nothing.
"Guess he's out."
After a moment of thought, he raised his foot, then reconsidered. After all, kicking the door down is rude.
Instead, he reached into his pouch and pulled out a lump of clay.
With a smack, he stuck it to the door.
'My explosions were precise. The house wouldn't suffer a scratch, just a very polite wake-up call.'