Unlike Pride's first investigation, Deidara was fully awake for this one, and he jerked at the touch, catching Pride's hand just as it touched the scope. He was not one to enjoy uninvited touching, especially so close to his face--his precious left eye, at that. Deidara's palm rested on Pride's wrist, the mouth almost certainly able to be felt by the strange boy.

Pride tasted strange. There was something that reminded Deidara of chemicals in it, and he just stood there, frozen, uncertain. Chemicals and dead flesh.

Something like Sasori, then. Something inhuman. Mockery of humanity.

He didn't like Pride.