Zero Hour - Chapter 11: Closer
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Sakura did not leave her room after The Incident, as she was now calling it—god forbid she even think about what had happened in any sort of detail. Under the fluffy aegis of her red duvet, she buried her face into the pillow and clenched her jaw until it hurt.
Stop thinking, just stop.
She'd turned over in her mind Sasori's cryptic, if not downright contradictory, words against his actions up until this point until the wee hours of the morning, groggy and delusional to the point where she'd even convinced herself that she'd dreamed the whole thing up. But she knew that was wishful thinking. Everything about Sasori was starkly and horrifyingly real.
Sakura wanted to scream into her pillow the way she had the night before. It would do her no good, and she didn't want Kaori to hear her again like she had last night. It had taken nearly ten minutes for Sakura to convince the simple maid to leave her in peace, but not before Kaori had insisted that she drink some soup to soothe her abused throat. Letting it run cold out of spite and her own dark distractions, Sakura was thankful for Kaori's insistence later when she realized settling for cold soup was better than leaving her little make-believe sanctuary to venture back into that kitchen for food.
But that excuse was fast running its course and then some as Sakura's stomach rumbled. She feared someone would come running through the door to tell her to keep it down. That was the last thing she wanted. Still, Sakura hesitated.
Starve, or potentially face Sasori. Maybe I could run quickly? In and out, and no one will ever know.
More wishful thinking. Sasori had an uncanny knack for knowing just when and where she happened to be most of the time, like a shadow lurking in the corner, always watching. Shivering, Sakura indulged this childish fear and glanced at said corner, half expecting the redhead to materialize through the thick stone wall and pin her with his strings.
"I don't want to control you."
"The what do you want?" she whispered into her pillow.
Maybe this was another lie. Maybe his plan was to lull her into a false sense of security, make her believe that this was all going to be okay and she'd be back with her friends and family in Konoha come morning, no harm done. She wanted to laugh. Sasori couldn't have left anything or anyone unharmed if he tried.
But a little voice, something soft and hopeful and maybe a little afraid wondered if he meant what he'd said. If he'd meant it when he told her he never lied. If he didn't see her as a piece to be played, but as something more. Something valuable. Something worth his selfish time.
"I'll waste my words for you, too."
Sakura sat up, the abrupt change in position making her lightheaded and banishing any whims conjured up by that last thought. She did not want to think about what Sasori might view her as if not something to control and exploit.
"You're being ridiculous. If he wanted you dead, you'd have been dead long ago. Get a grip," she muttered to herself.
Her stomach took that time to growl once again. If she didn't get some food, she was sure it would come alive and start devouring her liver. Running her fingers through her bedhead out of habit, Sakura slipped out of bed. The chilly air made her shiver, and gooseflesh formed under her sweater. As soon as she was better, she was leaving this place and not looking back. He wanted her to believe that he never lied? Well, that was just fine. She'd be happy to remind him of his promise to return her to Konoha once she was travel-ready. Bolstered by the first not depressing or embarrassing thought in almost twenty-four hours, Sakura emerged into the familiar hallway that led to the basement pantry and padded along as quickly as her sore knees would allow.
It seemed luck was on her side; no one appeared to be here this time. Unable to help a small sigh of relief, Sakura stole to the fridge and pulled out an array of foods she planned on hoarding in her room for as long as possible. Just as she was laying everything out on the table for easy access, wondering how best to transport what she needed in one trip to minimize potential exposure, footsteps drew near. She froze, hands shaking.
"Oh, it's you."
Green eyes shifted in the direction of the doorway. Sakura wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that her visitor was Deidara instead of Sasori. Despite the events of the night prior, she felt safer around Sasori considering she'd survived this long in his company and not been turned into a puppet yet. Deidara, on the other hand, struck her as the unpredictable type ready to snap at the slightest provocation or even none at all. Where she could count on Sasori not to get scary as long as she didn't cross the line with him, Deidara was a disaster waiting to happen. It wasn't a matter of if with him, but when. Not to mention he was wearing his Akatsuki coat, a friendly reminder that he was, in fact, the enemy.
Relax. Sasori would kill him if he tried anything.
That thought was not as comforting as it should have been, especially if she let her mind wander into the why.
"I was just leaving," she said, proud that her voice held firm even though the shaking in her hands would not go away despite her best efforts to squeeze the life out of a nearby potato.
Deidara grinned. "You keep squeezin' that spud and it's gonna pop, yeah."
Sakura pressed her lips together in a fine line. Something about Deidara, when she looked past the visage of the mad bomber and criminal, just irritated the hell out of her. His smarmy tone of voice was not helping matters.
"It's none of your business," she said, not caring that it sounded somewhat childish despite her best efforts.
He made a face at her. "Whatever." He then walked into the kitchen, much to Sakura's dismay, and began covetously eyeing the food she'd lain out. "You having a party or somethin'?"
Sakura wasn't sure how to react to this casual behavior. Deciding to play it safe, she was about to tell him that no, she was doing no such thing and excuse herself with an armful of food, appearances be damned. He took that time to pluck the potato she'd been mashing from between her fingers and place it out of her reach. He then settled down in a chair opposite where she stood and began pulling some food toward him.
"You're gonna get fat if you eat all this by yourself, yeah."
Sakura's mouth dropped in indignation, her pilfered potato and some of her prior caution forgotten in light of his crass demeanor. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he said through a mouthful of bread as he reached for the cheese wheel. Looking around for something, he turned back to her and added, "Hey, get a knife, will you? I can't cut this."
That was it. Sakura was unbelieving of what was coming out of this man's mouth. "I'm sorry, but do I look like your maid?"
Deidara frowned at her over a piece of jerky, swallowed, and leaned forward on his arms. "Listen, you're already up and not even eating anything. The faster you get the knife, the faster we can eat this. So what's it gonna be, smart ass?"
Sakura opened her mouth to contradict that, but closed it when she realized that it was a logical deduction, if not delivered in poor taste. "...Fine. But only because I want some."
"Get some drinks while you're up."
Sakura bristled and considered chewing him out, but decided against it. Unpredictable. Terrorist bomber. Sasori is not here to intervene. Stay calm.
And that was how five minutes later, Sakura and Deidara sat across the table from each other eating a meal meant for five or six people. Such was their hunger, potent enough to let them ignore their mutual animosity temporarily.
Temporarily being the operative word.
"So, are you like, sleeping with Sasori or something?"
Sakura spit out the cold pasta she'd been eating. "I—what are you—! I'm not—"
"Heh, guess he's gotta make do with what he's got, yeah."
Sakura slammed her fist on the table, embarrassed and livid. It shook with the force of her blow, and Deidara zeroed in on her fist. "Excuse you," she said. "I can't believe you'd even insinuate—"
The cold look in his eyes cut her off, as though this one look commanded an invisible vice grip. Sakura leaned back under the pressure of his frigid gaze.
"What're you really doing here?" he said. "What did you do to him?"
"What did I do?" Sakura said, affronted. "I killed him once, but I guess that wasn't enough. And then he came back and we fought Orochimaru and now I'm in his debt and you know what? I don't even want to be here!"
Deidara stood and pressed his palms flat against the table. "You fought Orochimaru with him?"
Sakura blinked, not having expected him to latch onto that bit. Her gaze shifted to his lethal hands. "...Yeah. Why?"
Deidara's face scrunched up as a flurry of emotions passed through him and words escaped him. Taking a cue from Sakura, he slammed his own fist on the table and disturbed a fork, which clattered to the floor. "That two-faced piece of shit!"
Sakura's mouth hung open. She was certain the 'piece of shit' was not her, but she wouldn't give Deidara the benefit of the doubt. "Are you even listening? I didn't want any part of…of this."
As though drawn from some inner conflict, Deidara's icy blue eye snapped back to his dinner mate. "I mean, I know he's way paranoid, but if you hadn't come along then none of this would have happened. Now I'm stuck and he's got a free pass to fuck around—"
"I'm really getting tired of you thinking there's something going on between us—"
"—and we're supposed to do this together." Deidara scratched his head. "You're seriously in the way, yeah."
Sakura was red with rage. Never in her life had she been so furious with one single person the way she was now. She wasn't even quite sure what the hell they were talking about anymore.
"I'm gonna blow him up," Deidara announced, jamming a hand into the travel pouch at his hip. "See if he can come back to life twice."
"What? Hey, put that away," Sakura said, now worried. For herself, of course, not for Sasori.
"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do, make me?"
Sakura brandished a fist out of habit, but the sound of clay squelching and reshaping with explosive chakra stayed her hand. This was what she'd been wanting to avoid.
"I know you're weak from whatever Orochimaru and Kabuto gave you. Even if you weren't, I could still kill you, yeah," he said.
That shocked her speechless, and the previous fear she'd felt snuck up on her, cackling and unrelenting. If he was really serious, she could not stop him. He might forcibly remove her, and then she would be dead.
Sasori was nowhere to be found, and Deidara was halfway to molding enough C2 to blast half the castle into oblivion. Summoning what little remained of her chakra, Sakura channeled her rising panic and smashed a glowing fist against the wall near Deidara's head in a last-ditch effort. The cold-hardened stone cracked under her strength, tiny fissures spider-webbing from the locus of impact. Deidara stared, wide-eyed, as pebbles clinked to the ground. They fell slowly at first, but larger chunks soon began to join them. After a moment, the thick stone wall between the hallway and kitchen bore a jagged dent about three feet in diameter.
Sakura had forgotten about Deidara and her previous fear as she felt almost nothing. The ache was there, but it was nothing compared to the first few days. "The pain!"
Deidara scoffed. "Yeah, I bet that hurt, idiot."
"No, I mean, it doesn't hurt as much as before!" Sakura squealed at her fist.
Deidara gave her a weird look and took the opportunity to take a few steps away from her. "Whatever. I'm gonna go blow up Sasori now—"
"I'd like to see you try."
Both Sakura and Deidara turned to see Sasori leaning against the doorway, looking lazy and calm as always if not for the way his honey eyes shifted between Sakura's fist, the crater, and Deidara's incriminating palms.
Deidara frowned, all traces of his former bewilderment at Sakura's little stunt gone. "You know, things aren't like they used to be. And you're human now, yeah."
Sasori walked toward them. He paused to finger the fresh crack in the wall. "That's very true."
Sakura got a chill at the way he said that as he admired her handiwork, meager as it was compared to her full power. But the look in his eyes also bolstered her on some level, as though he was commending her in his own cryptic way.
"A lot has changed," Sasori added. "But...some things will remain as intended."
Deidara and Sasori exchanged a look that Sakura could only wonder about. There were secrets there, and despite the curiosity that haunted her like a second shadow whenever Sasori's shadowy crusade was concerned, something told her she should be thankful for her ignorance right now.
"I'm relieved to know I have a dedicated defender in you, Sakura," Sasori said, breaking the moment. "I'll sleep better now while Deidara's around."
If Sakura had a thousand ryo for every time she'd felt terrified or embarrassed or both since she'd arrived, she was sure she'd be able to pay back all of Tsunade's accumulated gambling debts by now. How did Sasori inspire that with just one look or a few choice words? Some part of her resigned to insanity wanted to ask, but the rest of her mortified self squashed that blasphemous thought before it could manifest in coherent speech. She made to deny that accusation in every way she could, but Sasori turned from her and glided to the table still littered with foodstuffs. He bent to pick up the discarded fork.
"Well? You know I don't like eating alone," he said, taking a seat.
Deidara rolled his eye and marched back to his seat. "Hey, that cheese is pretty good. How'd you get it all the way out here?"
"It's made here."
Deidara whistled. "Seriously? That maid chick you got must be pretty good."
"She's tolerable."
Deidara shrugged and piled his half-eaten plate with more food.
Sakura watched, stunned at the sudden change in atmosphere when only moments before she'd been sure Deidara would pick a fight with Sasori and she'd get stuck in the middle of it. Their banal conversation now was perhaps most baffling. They seemed comfortable around each other despite the inherent divergence of opinion on just about everything under the sun.
Now I know I'm dreaming.
"Sakura," Sasori called, seemingly uninterested.
But Sakura knew better. Thoughts of the previous night returned to her, and she was not thrilled about what was shaping up to be an uncomfortable dinner for her. No matter what excuse she gave, she knew he'd shut it down with little effort and much seething. Deciding at least to save herself that much, Sakura walked over to the table. She debated sitting next to Deidara, but thought better of it. When push came to shove, she would trust Sasori with her life over him any day. He'd done everything to convince her he valued it enough not to snuff it out at the slightest resistance on her part, and twice now Deidara had tried to blow her up in just twenty-four hours.
Sasori said nothing as Sakura slipped onto the bench next to him and reclaimed her plate from before. He continued to say nothing when their hands brushed as they reached for the salt at the same time, and he let her use it first. Sakura, for her part, was content to remain silent lest he bring up the other night, but she began to get a little anxious as he all but ignored her in favor of conversing with Deidara. It got to the point where she wondered if they were doing it on purpose, and she'd had enough of it. It was time for some answers.
"How long will Deidara be here?"
Both Deidara and Sasori turned to look at her. "As long as I want. Not that it's any of your business, yeah."
Sakura had never taken well to blatant rudeness, and had no problem reacting with equal rudeness if necessary. Sometimes, it was the only language pigheaded men like Deidara understood. "You're an asshole."
"You wanna come over here and say that?" Deidara said, putting down his spoon for emphasis.
"That's enough," Sasori said, although it came out sounding more like a death threat.
Sakura bit her tongue, but Deidara had little fear for his safety around the redhead. "I can't believe you let her talk to you like that."
"She wasn't talking to me."
Deidara's blue eye narrowed and shifted between his two dinner mates, but he said nothing. Sakura wondered what he was thinking, and decided she didn't want to know.
"By the way, she said something about fighting Orochimaru with you. Wanna tell me what that's about?"
"Not really."
"Why the hell not?"
Sasori took a drink of his water before answering. "It's not important. Nothing's changed, in any case."
Deidara snorted. "So you lost."
"The battle ended prematurely," Sasori corrected, although Sakura thought she detected an edge to his voice that wasn't there before. "He escaped."
"Whatever. You promised we'd—"
"I don't make promises, Deidara. You know that well enough."
Sakura could not believe her ears. Why were they talking like this in front of her? Why were they talking at all? Why would Sasori associate with Akatsuki?
"If Deidara's Akatsuki and you're not, then why is he here?"
"That would require a longer explanation than I have the patience for," Sasori said, peering at her askance.
"It's because you need me, yeah."
Sasori did not like that comment. "Are you trying to piss me off?"
"Just making up for lost time," Deidara said, smirking.
Sakura was at her wit's end. A part of her almost wanted to cry at her inability to make them listen. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't done much crying since Orochimaru's. Maybe she'd been too overwhelmed to remember that she was far from home in an unknown territory with unfriendly company.
"You can't do anything as you are, anyway," Sasori continued. "We already discussed this. It's not your debt to repay."
"Hey, this is about a lot more than some stupid debt and you know it. I just need an out."
"There is no way out."
"You got out."
Sasori leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. Sakura's eyes fell to the spot on his chest where his heart lay beneath his thick sweater. She didn't know why, but in that moment she found herself remembering that at one point, that was all Sasori had ever been—a heart.
How terribly ironic.
"Come on, Sasori. There's gotta be a way," Deidara pressed. "I never wanted to be Akatsuki in the first place. Biggest waste of time ever, yeah."
Sakura frowned. "You don't want to be Akatsuki?"
Deidara looked at her like she'd grown another head. "Would you?"
She felt silly somehow. Never once had she stopped to question whether or not the members of Akatsuki actually wanted that kind of lifestyle. She'd just assumed that it was natural to want to be a part of a group of like-minded individuals, even if those individuals were all terrorists. And Deidara was so giddy when she saw him in that cave so long ago. Like he'd enjoyed every minute of taunting Naruto with Gaara's gruesome murder.
"No, but you seem like the type," she said.
He sneered. "No offense, I'm sure." Turning back to Sasori he added, "So?"
Sasori had a faraway look in his half-lidded eyes, as though he wasn't seeing Deidara even as he answered the question. "The only way out is death."
No one said anything to this, and Sakura began to feel awkward again as memories of that fight replayed in her mind's eye like a monochrome horror flick. Even after all this time, it was one of her clearest recollections. Her battles were usually a whorl and color and wind with little time for deep reflection. This one, however, was branded to her soul. Every detail, every slash and smash and the look in Sasori's glassy eyes that day when she eluded his every (almost every) attempt to kill her had stayed with her. Seeing him now, she could have believed she was sitting next to a different person.
He is a different person, she realized. This man was not the same as the one she'd fought back then. He was more controlled, more mysterious in his ways, and he was more concerned with her now than he'd been then. Something had changed, something that kept her from rejoicing at his defeat then and now. Was this the result? Had she set all this in motion somehow when she'd demanded he acknowledge the worth of human life? It seemed monumental and Sakura had never been too intimate with her own ego, but here she was. Whatever it was, it wasn't nothing. Sakura lowered her eyes.
"Until then, you can make yourself useful."
Deidara nodded, thinking. "Yeah, whatever. Like I said, you need me."
"I could always kill you right now and free you from your misery."
Deidara waved him off, as though Sasori hadn't just threatened him with murder. "Anyway, I gotta say, some of the paintings in that hall upstairs are pretty offensive. Who the hell decorated this place, anyway?"
"Those are priceless works, you cretin."
"Oh, give me a break. You can't possibly consider those dusty old things art, yeah."
"I see our time apart has only made your taste even more execrable."
Sakura spent the rest of that dinner listening to them argue about something everyone present knew they would never ever agree on. What was the point? And yet, they were content to debate the issue (if one could call the scathing exchange of insults and creative death threats something to be content about). When neither of them was willing to do anything questionable—certainly throwing dinner knives with the intent to maim was no cause for concern considering the company—Sakura relaxed a bit. She could taste her food and unclenched her shoulders. She didn't think twice about refilling everyone's glasses when they ran empty.
"But anyway, I have some things I gotta take care of. Later, yeah."
Deidara stood and excused himself, and Sasori let him go. It took Sakura a moment to realize she was alone with Sasori now, but she didn't feel as uncomfortable as she had all those long hours dreading this moment. Still, she was not about to give him an opportunity to corner her again, so she stood up.
"I think I'll turn in now, too," she said.
The feel of long fingers closing around her wrist startled her, and she jumped. Sasori was staring at her entrapped hand, and she curled a fist out of habit.
"You're recovering more quickly than expected," he said. "You should be ready to travel before the end of the week."
Sakura stared, transfixed, as he rubbed a thumb over her knuckles. She wondered how he could bring himself to handle her greatest weapon so tenderly. She wondered why she let him, and decided that was not a question she wanted to answer right now.
"Why do you trust him?" she asked. It was an easier question to voice than the thoughts swimming in her mind as she continued to stare at her hand in his, transfixed.
Sasori didn't bother looking up at her, and for a moment Sakura wasn't sure if he'd grace her with an answer. He was stingy with his words. "What makes you think I trust him?"
"...He's Akatsuki, to state the obvious. You're not. But you still let him be here."
He said nothing to this, and Sakura continued, unsure if he saw that as a good enough reason.
"He could blow up this place any minute and you know it."
"He won't."
He may as well have assured her that the sun would rise in the east tomorrow morning from how obvious he made it sound. Sakura frowned.
"There you go again making proclamations about him, like you're so sure one way or the other. If that's not some kind of trust, then I don't know what is. And it's weird because I really don't think you're the type to trust anyone."
That got his attention, and Sakura regretted her tone of voice as he fixed her with a bored stare that hid the promise of a rising temper. She'd seen him at his worst, and she was not in the mood to revisit that playground again. But he interrupted her before she could backpedal.
"You're not seeing this clearly," he began, watching her in a way that commanded her full attention. "It's not trust, but a feeling of respect that keeps Deidara in line. Hierarchy."
So maybe Sasori wasn't in the mood to get scary. She decided to push her luck a bit.
"Then why help him? You could have told him to go screw himself, but you told him a way to get out of Akatsuki."
"I told him death was the only way out."
"That's still something coming from you."
When a smirk twitched his lips and he released her hand to stand up, Sakura couldn't figure out if she'd hit the jackpot or death row. Either way, he looked pleased with her observation.
"Whether or not Deidara makes it out of Akatsuki isn't my concern. If anything, he can serve me just as well as a spy. However," he paused, making a point of peering down at her in that condescending way of his, "it would be in your best interest to reconcile with him."
"What? Why on earth would I do something like that?"
"Because he's a valuable ally to have."
Sakura glared at him. "You can't be serious."
"This is much bigger than you and your issues with Deidara. Or do you disagree that Orochimaru is a more pressing concern for you personally? I could always return you to his care if that's what you want."
"No, of course not."
"Then open your eyes. You're just another player in this game, and so is Deidara."
"Then you are planning on going after Orochimaru again, aren't you?"
"That would be a simplistic way to look at it, but you're not entirely off."
Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. "I never signed up for any of this!"
His eyes trained on hers, their honeyed depths unreadable. "It's a bit late for that, and you made your choice long ago."
Sakura took note of his body language as he watched her carefully—too carefully. The goal was not to provoke him into something reminiscent of last night, but at the same time get as much information from him as possible. He seemed rather forthcoming at the moment, but one misstep and the thin ice she treaded around him could shatter beneath her feet. Just being around him was enough to exhaust her to the point of madness, never knowing what was coming at her next. And yet, for a chance to know, to figure him out, she stayed her ground as the ice cracked under weight.
"I can't go on like this," she said.
"Like this?"
"Living one day to the next. At any minute you could change your mind about me." Biting the inside of her cheek in case her voice picked that time to betray her, she forced herself to look him in the eye. "I don't even know how I'm still here."
Silence stretched for a moment, and if Sakura hadn't known any better she'd swear he looked a little angry. But whatever she'd thought she'd seen was gone as soon as the thought crossed her mind. He had a tendency to trick her without even intending to. Or maybe it was his intention all along.
Twisting and turning, get out of my head.
"What do you want to hear?" he asked, his tone a bit mean but not enough to make her want to turn around and run out the door. "Do you want me to tell you it's all going to be okay? That I'll protect you come hell or high water? Don't be so naïve."
Somewhere in the middle of this escalating little speech, he'd started closing in on her until she was forced to back into the wall. Stopping only a foot away he continued, "As if your demons are more terrifying than mine."
Sakura opened her mouth to say something, anything at all, but words escaped her. Sasori looked disgustingly pleased at her lack of response, like he'd expected her to cower before him just as anyone else would.
"You're conceited," he said, voice registering at a lower pitch as though this were some great secret to which only the two of them were privy. "I'm not your white knight."
There was little time to be angry at what she suspected wasn't quite meant to be an insult as she tried to decide whether the twisting feeling in her stomach was a manifestation of her fear or something else entirely.
Glowing threads lift her until she crashes down between steady arms and a warm body. And despite the claws of death and disease that try to rend her soul, she knows the she is safe now that he's come for her. Even the dragon's searing flame cannot cut through the soft, frigid darkness holding her selfishly close. And she wonders if she's truly saved at all.
Sakura blinked away the recurring nightmare fragment. "I never thought that," she said. "Not once."
"Then tell me." He crossed his arms and lowered his face to see her better, but he came no closer. "What do you really want to hear?"
He made no move to invade her personal space the way he had last night. He didn't even reach for her, and she felt detached and alone despite their proximity. As she took in the man before her, her fears concerning Deidara were like a distant memory.
Child's play.
If one could consider imminent death by instantaneous immolation child's play.
And there it was.
"I want...you to tell me that I can trust you."
"Trust." The word seemed to roll off his tongue like unripe fruit, sour and unwelcome.
"You think I'm self-centered to worry like this, but I don't understand this. If I'm going to be risking my life and loyalties to repay you, I just need to know..."
"You don't need me to give you false promises, so don't ask for them. It's insulting."
"How can you—"
"I don't associate myself with the weak. And you, Haruno Sakura, are not weak. Stop giving me reasons to think otherwise."
Sakura was taken aback by the sudden compliment. With marked reluctance, Sakura forced herself to dance around the issue that had been bothering her since the fight with Orochimaru and Kabuto. "...What am I to you?"
She held her breath as he considered her question. Or maybe he was making her sweat on purpose. She didn't know what she was expecting, but she figured knowing couldn't be worse than imagining.
"It's not what you are," he said softly. "It's what you'll become."
She got the sudden and inexplicable urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but refrained for the sake of self-preservation. He either didn't notice or didn't care.
"What will I become? What's coming?"
Sasori didn't answer, and Sakura was starting to get fed up with the mysteries surrounding him. For the first time in their acquaintance, she reached for him and fisted his shirt with both hands, pulling him close. "Tell me."
Sasori's hands snaked around her balled fists in a gentle but firm hold. He didn't attempt to extricate himself, though. "The finale."
"I never agreed to fighting your battles, especially not against Orochimaru again, so what are you planning?" Sakura pressed, drawing him nearer without meaning to. "Does this have something to do with you not wanting to control me?"
Something in Sasori's expression changed. Where before he was content to hear her out, now he pried her fists out of his shirt and lowered her hands. The contact broken, he said, "Everyone has a role to fill, including you. If you don't play the game, there's no winning it. Losing this one is not an option."
Riddle me this, riddle me that, Sakura thought as he turned away from her.
"And Sakura," he called just as he paused in the doorway.
"What."
He shot her a bored look over his shoulder, and Sakura shivered. Bored was always dangerous on Akasuna no Sasori. "Don't let me catch you fighting with Deidara again."
He left her alone without another word. Despite his departure, she could still feel his lingering touch on her hands when she'd reached for him. Something was shifting, she could feel it in her bones, and somehow she wasn't as scared as she thought she'd be anymore. If she was involved in a game with rules she didn't know, at least Sasori and Deidara would remain right there with her.
