literature

SUNDAY'S CHILD

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Literature Text

“Deidara, what day is it?”

“Hmm? It’s Sunday, un.”

“Really? I could have sworn it was Monday.”

“Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace….”

“What are you singing now, brat?”

“It’s a poem, danna.” Deidara and Sasori were lounging about in their room, Sasori working on his puppets and Deidara sitting on their bed, staring quietly at the ceiling. Not realizing it, the sculptor had begun to sing under his breath.

“A poem? It sounds familiar.” Sasori had turned around to look at his partner.

“Well, technically it’s a nursery rhyme, un.” Deidara shut his eyes and began to speak in a voice that clearly indicated he was reciting from memory. “Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace. Wednesday’s child is full of woe, Thursday’s child has far to go. Friday’s child is loving and giving, Saturday’s child works hard for his living. The child that is born on the Sabbath day, is bonny and blithe and good and gay. Un.”

“Gay?” Sasori smirked.

“Not THAT gay, danna! The old meaning. You know, happy, un.”

“I know that, brat.” Sasori smirked again, prompting Deidara to pout and roll over, facing away from the puppet. Sasori was used to this, and ignored it. “You must really like that rhyme to know it so well.”

“I hate it.” It wasn’t so much what Deidara said that startled Sasori as how he said it. He actually sounded…..angry.

“Why is that?” Sasori walked over and sat on the bed. He was truly curious. It took a lot to make his blonde angry.

“Well…Sasori-danna, you were born on a Saturday, right, un?”

“Um, yeah.” He didn’t remember telling Deidara that.

“I could tell, ‘cause you always work so hard on those puppets, un.” Deidara rolled over to face him. “Itachi was born on a Monday, Konan on a Tuesday, Hidan on a Thursday….danna, when do you think I was born, un?”

Sasori quickly recited the poem in his head. “Easy. You were born on a Sunday.”

Deidara shook his head. “Nope. I was born on a Wednesday, un.” Sasori stared. “See? That song suits everyone but me, un. I was a freak at birth, danna.” He flipped back over, not really sure why he was suddenly turning his back to Sasori.

Sasori wasn’t sure what to say. Should he say anything? He lay down beside Deidara, slowly extending an arm, gently rubbing Deidara’s back. “You’re not a freak, Dei.” He slid his arms around Deidara’s waist, pulling him close, intertwining their legs as best he could. “You were just early.”

Deidara scooted closer, his back pressing against Sasori’s chest. “If I was born on a Wednesday instead of Sunday, how do you know I wasn’t late, instead of early, un?”

Sasori gently kissed Deidara’s neck before responding. “Simple. I hate people who keep others waiting and are late, so that makes you early.”

Deidara allowed a small smile to appear on his face. He moved his arms and began to trace delicate patterns on Sasori’s forearms. “Danna?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we stay like this for a while, un?”

Sasori gave Deidara a gentle squeeze. “Sure, Dei.” After a time, he felt Deidara’s breath even out. He leaned close to the sculptor’s ear. “You’ll always be a Sunday child to me,” he whispered. He shut his eyes as he said this, failing to notice Deidara’s smile.  

Soon enough, they were both asleep.
ok, i know it's really short and fluffy, but i have recently been hit with a killer case of writer's block (sorry f i infected any of you people out there). anyway, i couldn't get the poem 'thursday's child' out of my head. i imagined deidara singing it, and from that came this. please read and comment, especially the latter, cause i wanna know what you people think!

all Characters are (c)Masashi Kishimoto
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