A/N: Chapter edited by: the-rainbow-goddess. Thanks for the help.

She glared through her car window to the long line of cars in front of her. "What in the world would create such traffic on a bridge? A bridge!" She thought with anger.

For a moment, she felt bad, the anger marks on her face lessened. Maybe someone was injured. "But I should hear sirens, shouldn't I? Maybe they are repairing the road or moving some cars that got into an accident. But it only stopped half an hour ago, the crash should have had place right in that moment, the paramedics and police should have already arrived. What if someone needed help and they were stuck?"

She thought back to the years she would spend with her mom, learning medical techniques and revised in her head every move she could remember, that could help to keep someone alive.. From how to do a perfect CPR, to stopping an internal bleeding. She didn't remember everything, but she was grateful for what she did recall.

She took a hold of her coffee and got out from her seat. Hurriedly, she walked fast in her flip flops she chose because of how comfortable they were. Perfect for hours of driving, but now only an inconvenience. Her red, long, summer dress moved around her body in a crazy waltz.

It took her a good half an hour to arrive to a big number of people - who were staring with gaping mouths - at the edge of the bridge. As she shifted her eyes to where all the people were looking, she froze and lost the power to make a sound. A blond, long haired boy was sitting at the edge, ready to jump.

"This shouldn't affect you half as bad as it does.", her mind told her with a calm voice.

That image brought her so many bad memories, that she almost puked. However, the rational part of her mind took control over her actions. With steady steps, she moved to a redhead, leaning on what she assumed, his car. In English, with a soft Japanese accent, she asked him, barely containing her anger:

"Why isn't there any police, yet? And more importantly, why isn't anyone doing anything?"

"A train crash. The whole road is blocked 5 thousands meters from here. They can't get here. On foot, it would take time. I heard two teams are on their way, but you never know. The kid is too far. If you go after him, you have a bigger chance of falling than he has. No one is going to risk their life for him."

She regarded him with a cold look. The man, a Japanese, didn't even look at her while talking.

"You seem quite confident about that."

"I had my fair part in this shit too. C'est la vie..."

Sakura didn't stay long enough for him to finish his sentence. She was off towards the blond boy who, for some reason, came up with the idea that killing himself would solve whatever problems he had.

She really did choose the best day to cross the Golden Gate Bridge. 1970 meters long and 230 meters from the highest point to the water

Sakura took her flip flops off and stepped over the vermilion pedestrian railing and, shaking, put her feet on the same thin bar the boy was standing on. He didn't even spare her a glance and kept looking down. Her only sign that he noticed someone was there, were his suddenly tensed shoulders. She walked carefully, with slow, soundless steps towards him and she almost lost her balance twice. With her heart beating fast enough to jump out of her chest, she kept nearing him. He lifted his head and sky blue eyes looked at her weary.

She mouthed him a "it isn't worth it", but he shook his head and lifted his right foot, almost like readying himself to walk on thin air; or to his inevitable death.

Enraged by his behavior, for no apparent reason, Sakura leaped to him like a predator, almost knocking both of them down. She hugged him from behind, pulling him towards the safe part of the bridge, but he kept drawing both of them forward. She didn't know how much time they spent struggling. Each with their own goal; but what Sakura knew was that, as the wind waved her short hair on both sides of her face, blocking her sight, it felt like eternity. When her bracelet fell down she screamed and, as he went rigid, she took hold of his body and shoved him in the railings. He fell, hitting his back. The crowd, the same people that only moments ago were whispering as the two battled, took a hold of the now knocked out boy. They looked at the girl with pink hair swaying in the wind as she just stood, without making a sound. They saw her straighten her back and turn around with eyes like newly cut glass. She held in a little whimper of pain and hopped over the railing. She hurried towards the boy and took a look at his back. Some scratches and artificial wounds were visible, but nothing more.

With adrenaline still pumping through her body, she took the boy on her back and carried him to her car, all the while muttering words like 'hospital', 'idiot' and 'my precious bracelet'. The people gave her a weird look, but decided to leave the pink beast alone.

Deidara Iwa was known for being a pyromaniac in love with his art, or more simply, obsessed with setting bombs. So, naturally, after he woke up in an unknown, cheap hotel room, handcuffed with one hand to a steel bar, the first thing his mind commanded his body to do, was to reach for his pocket, pull out some clay and blow up that shit. He started freaking out when he realized it was missing. A quick panic alarm went on automatically in his mind, as he heard footsteps on the hall. The rustle of keys, followed by the click of an unlocked door and the cracking sound of an old, wood door. Between half lidded eyes, he surveyed the person that entered. He immediately recognized the pink chick that stopped him from jumping. He still felt her nail marks on his back. "I know you're awake.", she said with a soft voice, nearing the queen sized bed.

With a thud, she let herself fall on it, on the opposite corner, out of his reach. He snapped his eyes open and glared at her. She felt offended.

"I just saved you! Stop looking at me like I'm Satan!", she hissed.

"I never asked you to save me.", he responded with an equal hiss. "You just had to enter and ruin everything, pink bitch."

He saw her eyebrow twitch as the word 'bitch' left his mouth.

She let out a long sigh.

"Both of us know that's bullshit."

"Huh?"

"You are an artist. A sculptor, as I thought at first, when I found the clay. But you know what? It smelled faintly like gunpowder and, after a little research, I realized it was mixed in the clay. Therefore, I took it away from you. For my own safety. You know how powerful internet is? I searched for you. Your clothes smelled like fire smoke, so you've either been in an arson recently, or you are a pyromaniac, but there are a lot more things. I went with the second option. Just writing 'blond', 'blue eyes', 'pyromaniac' and 'clay' and it was as easy as taking the candy from a kid. I confess that I had to dig a lot, but you were out for 5 hours, so I had the time. Eventually, I found a fangirls blog, ya know? Everything was there: where you live, what you do for a living, your height, weight… I was surprised that I didn't find your dick size. There were also news about your attempted suicide. Your fangirls are in a frenzy. They went psycho. You should watch out for them from now on. They seem to have come to the conclusion that you need them in order to live.

After, I went to your grandparents' house. I made a joke about you actually dying and they seemed glad about it. They are dicks, from what I could see. I left as fast as I could. It smelled like poop."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Ughh... I deviated from the subject. I'm sorry, let's continue the story about how this awesome girl saved your fine ass from flying from a bridge. After I read articles about you, I found out about your attachment *cough*obsession*cough* to your special art. You went to die on that bridge - a suicide bridge - with the hope someone would save you. If you really wanted to die, you would have hanged yourself, cut your wrists, something more extreme. Hell, you would have blown yourself up!"

He just stared at her with a blank look on his face and Sakura was getting tired talking to walls. After another long sigh, she took her shoes off and crawled closer to him.

"So...why did you do it?"

"For the hell of it, hun'."

"I don't believe you."

'Neither do I, hun'."He didn't want to talk? Fine. She wouldn't try again.

"I got myself into some problems. Dying really seemed like the best idea."

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

"You're kidding?"

"No, I actually kind of acted like a pussy. That was totally not cool, but I don't even care anymore. My turn to ask questions. Why were you so fixed on saving me? I'm pretty sure I almost snapped your wrist and that bracelet seemed pretty important, hun'."

"So... a pussy? Why was I so fixed on saving you? Probably because I saw myself in you, you know? A long time ago, I wanted put an end on my life. In my mind, I was hoping someone would come and rescue me from myself, but no one came. When I saw you, I actually saw a 16 year old me, with long pink hair and red, glassy eyes. The bracelet was from my Sensei. The only thing I had left from her; that's why I was so furious as to knock you out. I later remembered that it was only an imitation I made of the real one. It is too precious to wear it on a daily basis."

"So I'm a girl? Yeah, thanks a lot. Ohh... I almost forgot. Why am I tied up to a steel thing?"

"A steel thing? You don't have a large vocabulary, do you? I just didn't want you to run away."

"Run away? The door and the window are closed for God's sake, hun'!"

"Maybe you would have knocked the door down. How should I know?", the pink haired said while shrugging.

"Of course, because my back pain would miraculously disappear and I would be able to knock a door of wood and metal down like it's a feather! You are a genius!"/p p "Of course my horse, but how about my cow?"

"What?"

"I just wanted a sexy guy handcuffed. I'm an old lady and I have needs too. Youngsters like you just can't understand. So... should we get to raping now or later?", Sakura continued with a wink.

"What, hun'?"

"Just kidding. Actually, no. Undress yourself."

"Whaa?!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You can't take a joke. Youngster this day... tsk... tsk... tsk"

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Your jokes suck, they are terrifying and it makes you look like some raping psycho. They are small and dumb. You need to learn to make better jokes. More grande ones."

"Small and dumb? Just like your dick?" Sakura asked while batting her eyelashes. "Also, did you just use a French word to sound fancy?"

"No."