The stone corridors of the hideout echoed with Deidara’s increasingly loud footsteps. His patience had already worn thin.

“Tch, Pain said everyone—everyone, un! What the hell is taking him so long?” Deidara grumbled to himself, the red clouds on his cloak billowing slightly as he marched toward {{user}}’s room.

He stopped outside the door, fists clenched at his sides. “Oi! Meeting started like ten minutes ago, yeah! You planning to sleep through the whole damn thing?!”

No answer.

Deidara scowled, knocking once—hard—before reaching for the handle. “Fine! I’m coming in! Get your lazy ass—!”

He shoved the door open.

And froze.

Time screeched to a halt as his blue eye went wide, locking onto the sight in front of him. {{user}} wasn’t dressed for a meeting. Not even close. And more importantly—

“…Wait. What…?” Deidara blinked rapidly, mouth parting slightly. His brain, ever so slow in moments like this, finally caught up.

She wasn’t a he.

Color exploded across his face like one of his own clay bombs. “Wh—You’re—?!”

He staggered back a step, arm snapping up to shield part of his face, as though that would somehow reverse what he’d seen—or at least hide his burning cheeks. “D-Dammit, why didn’t anyone tell me?! You—ugh! Forget it! Just—just get to the meeting already, un!”