Zero Hour - Chapter 12: Behind the Veil
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
This was why Deidara never wasted his time with women if he could help it. They always wanted answers, resolution, goddamned reconciliation. He was pretty sure they just liked to hear themselves complain and would jump at any willing ear. Well, not this ear. Sasori might have had his reasons, but there was no need for Deidara to listen to hers.
Avoiding Sakura was a little difficult, though, and Deidara wasn't the most discreet guy on the planet. He also didn't know the castle as well as she did at this point, so when he wandered into the library and found her there, he nearly tripped over himself trying to get away.
"Uh, I thought this was the bathroom. My bad."
He bolted out the door before she could chase him down. If not for her weakened condition, she might have caught up to him before he could duck into a narrow passage behind one of the many heavy wall drapes. That had been two days ago, and so far he hadn't had the misfortune of running into her again. He was leaving today to return to Akatsuki, about which he was not happy. Sasori wasn't doing him any favors, but there was little he could do without compromising the entire operation, years of meticulous planning. A perfect house of cards.
It wasn't like Deidara was running from Sakura. He could still kill her and get away with it, and he was tempted to do just that, but Sasori wouldn't be very happy about it. And the plans. Always with the damn plans. So it was either mess everything up and kill her, or avoid her. The latter was safer.
The problem: Deidara and Safe had long ago drawn up the divorce papers—that broad had left him high and dry years ago. Now, another woman had set her sights on him.
"Deidara," she said, standing in the doorway to the basement kitchen next to the dent that still hadn't been filled in.
Deidara squeezed an apple he was about to pack for his upcoming journey hard enough to puncture the skin with his fingernails. "You really can't take a hint, huh."
"Believe me, the last thing I want is to talk to you," Sakura said, taking a few cautious steps into the kitchen. "I figured you'd be by here sometime."
Pissed about the apple that would surely brown, Deidara took a bite out of it and grabbed a fresh one for his pack. He faced the intruder with barely concealed irritation. He entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, Sasori had been onto something making himself unable to eat. It was great insurance against awkward run-ins like this. "Man's gotta eat, unfortunately. What d'you want? I don't have all day, so just spit it out, yeah." He took another bite of his apple and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his Akatsuki coat.
Sakura's eyes followed the movement, and he almost wanted her to make some snooty comment about his clothes. Then at least he could claim self-defense if he burned down that pretty house of cards.
She crossed her arms and made a valiant effort to look at him despite her obvious discomfort. "I just... I don't know. I don't think I owe you any kind of apology, but we haven't exactly gotten along well."
"Good, I'm not sorry either. And newsflash, sweetheart. We don't hafta play nice."
She wasn't backing off, and Deidara glared at her over a mouthful of apple. But just because she wasn't taking the hint didn't mean she hadn't heard it. He took in the creases in her brow, the way she raised her clenched fists forward just a bit, as though unsure what to do with them. Pathetic. For the life of him, he couldn't see what Sasori saw.
"Why do you hate me? I'm the only one with a good reason to be angry here," she said, voice calmer than he'd been expecting.
"Maybe I just think you're a goddamned roadblock. This is no place for some kid, y'know." Chewing another bit of apple, he swallowed before adding, "Not that it's my decision or anything, yeah."
Her anger melted to something more curious. "So then you're okay with Sasori's leadership, whatever he's planning."
"Why the hell wouldn't I be?"
She didn't look like she had an answer the way she was hesitating. In any case, Deidara was happy to cut to the chase and cease this weird spotlight confrontation.
"Sasori's the kinda guy who makes his own rules. Me? I only got one rule: There are no rules."
"His rules could get us all killed," she said. "You're already taking some kind of risk in coming here. That doesn't scare you even a little?"
"The fun hasn't even started yet. Try to be a little patient, yeah."
"...You're insane."
Deidara grinned and set his apple core aside for someone else to discard. He didn't doubt that she believed those words somewhere deep down. He had his reasons, sure, and he had no qualms about letting others come to their own conclusions about him. They could believe he lived to watch the world burn for all he cared, but anyone who believed that wasn't worth his time, anyway. Deidara wasn't so simplistic; he wanted to be the guy holding the match, the one people talked about after. Anyone could be a spectator, but it took a special breed to start the fire.
He laughed. "I've been called worse by guys a lot more intimidating than the likes of you. But you're missin' the point here."
"Then enlighten me," Sakura said, having regained a little courage now that they weren't talking about his personal motivations. "What am I missing, exactly?"
"It doesn't matter what I think because this is Sasori's game, so the shit's on him. It's not mine and it sure as hell isn't yours, but I guess he wants to involve you. Can't imagine why."
"I don't know, maybe because the last time we teamed up we sent Orochimaru running for the hills."
Deidara didn't appreciate sarcasm on most days, but he had to admit she had a point. "Whatever. Like I said, I don't hafta like you, but if Sasori wants you here then I'll work with you. Just stay outta my way and don't fuck up, yeah."
He felt it was an appropriate time to take his leave, so he grabbed the knapsack he'd been packing with food and slung it over his shoulder. Sakura blocked his path, her bangs swishing as she looked up at him with a fierceness he remembered from the day she smashed through that giant boulder in River Country.
"I don't know what he wants with me," she said, keeping her voice down as though they were conspiring together. "Just me being here is tantamount to treason."
"Wake up. If you're here it's because Sasori's serious." Didn't she know him well enough to know that much? "If you ask me, you're more trouble than you're worth comin' from Konoha. But whatever, he gets what he plans for. Well, usually, yeah."
Memories of late night conversations years ago picked that time to flicker like candlelight in his mind. Maps, so many maps, and talking in circles until Deidara was ready to bleed through his ears. Sasori was meticulous to a fault (a big fucking fault in Deidara's opinion), but in the end he'd get what he wanted. They'd spent too much time, made too many plans for the cards to fall to the floor now. This was one project Deidara was eager to see through to the end. It was personal now.
"If he kept you around this long then I'd say he needs you right there in the heat with us. What the hell happened between you during that fight, anyway?"
Sakura didn't look like she'd been expecting that question, and maybe she didn't have much of an answer for him. But something must have happened when she fought and killed Sasori. Sasori. He was stronger than Deidara, stronger than most of the other Akatsuki. And he almost never made mistakes. And yet, here Sakura was. The little mistake that had stuck around.
"He let our last attack kill him even though he could have beaten us," she said, eyes far away in the haze of memory.
Well, that's new, Deidara thought. He wished he could have seen Sasori's implacable face as he watched all his hard work go up in flames. A part of him was proud. Sasori had lit the match and started one hell of a fire. A fellow artist if ever there was one, but Deidara would never admit it out loud.
He gave Sakura a once-over, trying for the life of him to see what Sasori must have seen. One little mistake...
"And you think I'm insane, hah," he said to himself.
Sakura let him pass this time as he made his way to the door, but she wasn't letting him go without a last word. "How far would you go for him?"
Always with the questions. She should have been asking herself that much instead of pawning it off on him. But he'd humor her for now, if only to get her out of his hair. "Far enough to see if we've got a standing chance to win, yeah."
He left without sparing her a glance, ignoring the niggling curiosity that told him he should have asked her the same question.
Sakura watched Deidara take off atop a giant clay bird from the balcony outside the sitting room she'd discovered before. Unlike the last time, the curtains were pulled back so that light could filter into the room. It fell upon the rich mahogany furniture and the grand piano in the corner. A fire roared in the hearth, healthy and warm enough to make the space comfortable.
"He's gone," she said, eyes following Deidara's departure as he shrank against the horizon.
"He'll be back," Sasori said. "He always is."
They stood in silence for a few moments, and despite the cozy atmosphere of the parlor Sakura rubbed her arms for warmth. She still wasn't sure how to act around Sasori after the confrontations they'd had, and the conversation with Deidara had only added fuel to the fire. Something about this arrangement was starting to make her feel nervous, but not in the sense that she was committing illegal acts by cooperating. It was something more personal, something below the surface that she couldn't quite place. She wasn't sure she wanted to explore it, but something told her it was only a matter of time.
"Did you do what I asked?"
He was looking at her now, expecting an answer.
"...I'm not sure," Sakura admitted. "But I don't think we'll be going out of our ways to kill each other."
Sasori regarded her for a moment, honey eyes like a bright crevasse she knew she shouldn't approach but couldn't help peeking into to get a better look. "You'll be departing, too. Tomorrow morning, early."
"What? Tomorrow?"
"Did I stutter?"
Sakura was stunned, and he looked serious. "No, I just thought there'd be more time to..."
He waited a moment for her to elaborate, but there was nothing in those pretty eyes for her to read. Time for what? Sakura wasn't so sure herself, and the way he was patiently waiting for her to elaborate gave her chills. Sasori was never patient.
"Deidara just left. I thought it would still be a while before I left, too. That's all."
"What does Deidara have to do with anything?"
Sakura began to sweat. He hadn't been this talkative since the night he cornered her in the kitchen and told her to fix things with Deidara or face the consequences.
"I just meant..."
When it was apparent that she didn't know what she'd meant, Sasori turned away from her. "Dinner will be at eight. Don't keep me waiting, Sakura."
She watched him go and said, "Sure." It occurred to her that he'd just made a decision for her without her input, but she didn't feel like fighting him. He wasn't demanding anything unreasonable, after all.
I think I need to lie down.
The crepitating fire was no satisfactory company now that he was gone.
Sakura got no rest in the few hours until dinner. Kaori had dropped by with the clothing she'd worn when she was abducted, washed and mended.
"I did the best I could, Miss Sakura. You must have had quite the hard time."
Kaori smiled, and Sakura forced herself to smile back. The woman was just trying to be nice. But as soon as she left, Sakura could not keep up the act. She traced the sealed rips in her red vest where she'd been kicked, stabbed, and left for dead. They brought back images of Kabuto, and a flicker of a shadow in the corner made her pale at the thought that he might be standing right there. It was only a trick of the light from the hearth.
Holding the mended clothes in her hands, Sakura shivered at the memories they invited. If Sasori hadn't shown up when he had, there would be no Haruno Sakura. Perhaps in pieces, but not the whole, recovering person standing here now. Tears threatened to fall, but she wiped her eyes to keep them back. It would not do to show up to dinner with puffy eyes. Sasori would probably be disappointed in her, and that wasn't how she wanted to part ways with him.
Her protests about healing him when he needed her seemed a little silly now. Sakura found it a cheap price to pay for having saved her life and her sanity from Kabuto and Orochimaru. But she didn't have to tell him that.
Knowing how Sasori loathed waiting for others, she decided to head to the dining room a little early. Her knees no longer gave her much trouble. She had to rest at the top of the stairs for a moment to let the ache dull, but it was manageable. She brought a glowing green hand to the one she'd fallen on when Deidara first arrived, easing the pain just a bit. There was no nausea or dizziness when she finished, and this was cause enough to smile a little.
The high windows of the great hall were dark, and Sakura got the oddest sensation that she was underwater where light never shone. There was no moon at all, and she half expected some denizens of the deep to swim up to the thick panes and grin at her. She hurried along to the dining room and let herself in without further ado. Sasori was already there, poring over some document Sakura couldn't make out as she approached him.
"You're here early," she said.
"I prefer to do research in here. My workshop is too dark," he said, making some notes with a pen before folding up the paper and setting it aside.
Sakura considered sitting a few chairs down from him, but decided against it. He would just tell her to move. She took a seat to his right, just like last time.
"Wine?" he said, retrieving the pitcher.
"Uh, sure. Thanks."
Sakura took the glass of red wine and fiddled with it as Sasori proceeded to ignore her in favor of stowing the document he'd been examining. She took a sip and remembered how something very similar had occurred during her dinner with Orochimaru some time ago. The similarities were almost queer.
"How long did you work with Orochimaru?"
Sasori took a sip of his own drink before giving her his full attention. "Nearly ten years. Why do you ask?"
Sakura shook her head. "Just curious, I guess. You must have worked well together if you were partners for so long. What happened?"
Well, besides the obvious, she thought. Orochimaru didn't seem like the type to play nice with others.
Sasori was silent for a moment, and Sakura wondered what he was remembering. All she ever wanted to do was forget everything about Orochimaru.
"He went after Uchiha Itachi's Sharingan and later defected. He betrayed the organization."
Sakura was no interrogation specialist, but even she could tell that was a watered down version for the kiddies. If Sasori were so loyal to Akatsuki, he wouldn't have betrayed them himself.
Better keep that one to yourself.
"Tsunade-sama talks about Orochimaru sometimes," Sakura said, gazing into the depths of her wine glass. "It's hard to believe he was once someone worthy of love from a person like her."
Kaori and one of the cooks entered the dining room then with the evening's dinner, and Sakura busied herself with eating while Sasori considered her words.
"Orochimaru knows how to manipulate people. It's what's kept him alive all this time. That's all."
There they were again, the secrets. She could almost taste them. A part of her wondered if Sasori wanted to talk about it, but she decided that wasn't it. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. It made her brave.
"Did he manipulate you?"
Sasori's eyes flashed in her direction, and for one harrowing second she was sure she'd angered him. But instead of getting scary, he smirked.
"I was fifteen and alone. Any company was welcome. Especially his."
Sakura wasn't sure she wanted to know what he meant by that, but the way he turned his focus to his food told her the conversation was over. Best not to press.
Silence ensued as they consumed their dinner, and again Sakura thought about her abrupt departure plans. This was the last night she would spend with Sasori until he called on her. And when he called her, it would be because he was injured beyond his own capacity to heal. The whole idea seemed so hackneyed. What if he died before she could even get here? She didn't even know where here was.
"Are you trying to cut through the plate?"
His voice startled her from her thoughts, and she looked down to see that she had cut through her food to the china plate. Flustered, Sakura forced a laugh and set down her silverware. Sasori had that lazy look about him, like he might nod off at any moment. But Sakura knew that game better than she had the first time they were alone together in this very dining room.
Subtle beast.
"What?"
He took a sip of his wine and reached out a hand toward her. "Give me your hand."
"Why?"
"You'll see."
It was an odd request, but innocent enough, she supposed. Long fingers closed around her wrist. He was warm and smooth—there were no scars or calluses on his hands that she could see. Like he hadn't shed a drop of blood in his life. Sakura remembered the last time he'd had her hand like this, but this time he wasn't coercing her.
"I don't want to control you."
Sasori bit his thumb and smeared a line of blood over her wrist about two inches in length.
"What are you doing?"
"Bind," he said, his bloody hand finishing a hand seal and glowing blue.
His blood glowed red and bright with chakra, tingling, until it melted into her skin. Sakura could only stare in shock at this phenomenon. Before she had the chance to say anything, he slit her own finger with his chakra strings and made her draw a similar line down his own wrist.
"Sasori—"
"Bind," he said again, and Sakura watched the process repeated itself on his wrist.
Finally, he released her.
"What did you just do?" Sakura demanded, her finger glowing green and healing the shallow incision he'd made.
Sasori grabbed his dinner napkin to staunch the blood flow from his thumb. "Blood binding technique."
"What does that do?"
"You'll be able to find me in the future. It tracks blood, and it'll transport you to my location when you activate it. Of course, the reverse is also true."
"Why do you have to be able to find me? You know where I'll be."
He rested his chin in his uninjured hand and let his eyes linger a moment before responding. "Give and take, Sakura. It's fair this way."
Sasori's logic terrified her sometimes. He was like one of those smart lunatics: Mad with an unseen disease but cunning enough to hide it. Rules, just like Deidara had said. The trick was to figure out how to pass Go without landing in Jail.
"...How does it work?"
"You have to kill someone precious to you."
Sakura just stared at him like he'd grown another head. He continued to watch her with that lazy half smile.
"I... That's..."
"Relax. I'm only kidding."
Sakura wanted to tell him not to quit his day job, but she was too busy slumping into her chair as the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding left her body. "Hilarious."
"You do have to spill a little blood, though. Yours, not anyone else's. It works like a reverse summoning technique, only your contract is with me instead of a summon beast," he explained.
"So...I could summon you to my location if I wanted?"
If Konoha finds out about that then I can say goodbye to both our heads.
"No. You can only transport yourself."
It figured. Sasori was too paranoid to even consider taking such a risk.
"But I'll know if you try. I'll call you in this way, too."
"How will I know?"
He took another slow sip of his wine and Sakura watched it go down his throat. "You'll know."
"What if Konoha finds out about it? They'd have a one-way ticket to this place." It sounded like a last-ditch protest on her part, and she knew they both heard it.
"They only way anyone can find out is if you tell them. That seal is a part of you now. It won't show up to the naked eye unless a skilled medical ninja examines the exact spot. Even then, they won't know what they're looking at. This is an original technique I developed many years ago."
"You mean when you worked with Orochimaru?"
As soon as she said it, Sakura regretted it. Why did she have to keep bringing up his past like this? She knew Sasori's feelings toward Orochimaru even if she didn't understand them, and yet she kept opening up that old wound.
"Yes."
It was impossible to know what he was thinking, and even if she asked he probably wouldn't reveal much. But a part of her (a growing part) wanted to understand. What had happened between Orochimaru and Sasori to have put them at opposite ends of the chessboard now? What could drive someone to hate another person so much that even a decade of partnership could be tossed aside?
Sakura thought of Sasuke and how her younger self never could have imagined that things would turn out like this. But now she knew, and maybe she'd known all along. Sasuke wasn't the boy she used to know, and it didn't look like he was coming back. All she could do was keep moving forward and fight to protect what she had left, hope for the best. Was that how Sasori saw it, too? Was that the point of this game?
"Give me your hand," Sakura said, reaching for the dinner napkin he was still holding.
Sasori shot her a look but said nothing. He let her uncurl his fingers from around the napkin until his thumb was exposed. There was a jagged gash across the pad where he'd bitten it earlier. A small thing, negligible in their line of work. Nevertheless, she traced a finger alight with green chakra over it and watched as it knit back together. There was faint scar tissue around the area it had closed up from old wounds, and she ran her finger over them without thinking. Old summons, old hurts. Sasori had bled too, before all this. Before Orochimaru.
"That wasn't necessary," Sasori said.
"It was nothing."
"You shouldn't waste your energy on pointless things."
He hadn't pulled away from her yet and Sakura still traced the small scars on his thumb with her finger. "So you've told me."
It was happening again. She felt the pull of him as she continued to watch him, his full attention on her uncomfortable and electrifying, like she was naked under a spotlight, but she could not look away. She remembered the way he'd looked just before he died, that heavy sadness in his eyes when Chiyo revealed that she'd wanted to trade her life for his if only he would have let her. It was there, somewhere, but he hid it well.
"Everyone wants something, even if they don't know what it is yet."
What he wanted then, cracked and broken and beaten by a teenaged girl and an old hag... Did he know it now?
"Master Sasori, may I take your plates?"
Sakura jumped at the sound of Kaori's voice and jerked her hand away from Sasori. He didn't pay her any mind.
"Yes, we're finished." He rose from his chair. "I suggest you get some sleep, Sakura. We have a long journey tomorrow."
Sakura stood up as Kaori retrieved her plate. That was it? He was just leaving like that? Sakura warred with herself over whether to tell him to wait, but she couldn't think of any reason he would stay. She waited too long and he disappeared out the door, leaving her alone with Kaori and the sound of clinking dishes.
"Everything all right?" Kaori asked as she loaded up her cart with used dishes to transport back to the kitchen for cleaning.
"Huh?" Sakura turned to see the maid's big blue eyes watching her, concerned. "Oh, fine. Just...tired, I guess."
Kaori paused and looked like she wanted to say something, but hesitated.
"What is it?" Sakura asked.
"The master always keeps busy," she said. "But I think it's good for him in this big place to have someone to talk to sometimes."
Sakura was sure Kaori had never said so many words to her in one breath unprompted than she had just now. "You know I'm not here because I want to be."
Kaori shook her head as though she'd said too much. "All the same, it's been a joy to have you."
Sakura watched her turn the cart and head for the door, uneasy. "I'll be back, you know. Sometime."
Kaori flashed her a smile over her shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it, Miss Sakura. Please excuse me."
When Sakura made her way back to her small room and lay in bed trying to sleep, she found that she was wide awake with thoughts swimming in her mind. It was her last night here. She was finally going home!
The nightmare's over.
She buried her face into the plush pillow and watched the fire glowing in the hearth out of one eye. The nightmare was over and she could rest easy. Sleep, however, did not come until the wee hours of the morning, and dreams did not visit her.
"Miss Sakura, wake up."
Sakura forced her eyes open, squinting through the sting of too little sleep to see Kaori hovering over her. It took her a moment to understand what was going on.
"It's time for your departure. Master Sasori is waiting for you in the parlor upstairs," Kaori said, backing off now that she saw her charge was awake.
Sakura rubbed her eyes and held back a groan. She was a morning person, but this was pushing it. Still, it was better not to keep Sasori waiting, so she pushed off the thick red duvet and made her way to the bathroom.
"I prepared these for you to wear over your clothes."
Kaori handed Sakura a thick brown sweater and sheepskin pants lined with wool. A heavy mantel was folded atop them for protection from the snow. Again, Sakura resisted the urge to groan. It was going to be a long, miserable day.
Dressed and ready to go, she ascended the stairs and made her way to the parlor she'd discovered early during her stay here. She carried no personal effects—there had been no time to retrieve them the night she'd escaped Sound. Sasori was waiting for her.
"Good morning," she said, looking out the window. "Er, good night, I guess."
"Let's go," Sasori said, gesturing for her to follow him outside.
He was similarly clad in thick winter clothing to stave off the cold, but as soon as they stepped outside Sakura wondered how much good their armor would do them. The winds had picked up, and even though it was only fall now this part of the world didn't seem to care. Snow stung her cheeks, and she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck.
"What are we doing out here?"
Sasori released his Third Kazekage puppet and initiated its bloodline limit.
"Oh," she said, watching as he created a platform big enough to fit them both.
Sasori stepped onto it and turned to pull Sakura up after him. "Get comfortable. If you don't keep warm enough, you could die on the way."
Sakura frowned. "I'm not that helpless, you know."
"You will be."
Before she knew what was happening, Sasori pulled her close and she felt a pin prick in her neck. Repressed nightmares of Kabuto and his hypodermic needles roared to the surface of her subconscious like a violent typhoon and she tried to lash out, cry out, anything to fight back. But Sasori held her still with his strings, honey eyes looking down at her.
"Sleep now," he said, supporting her lolling head with a gloved hand in her hair.
"Sasori..."
Sakura's tongue forgot how to form words, heavy like wet cotton, as Sasori lowered them to a sitting position on his iron sand platform. He held onto her, propping her head against his chest so he could have a hand free to direct his puppet. Her eyes became hazy, her thoughts disjointed. Even so, vertigo assaulted her as she felt them lift up into the air and then descend the staggering heights of the mountain. Sakura tried to focus on the fog her breath made as she willed herself not to panic, don't panic, and come on, Sakura, it's not like you're going to die or something, not like this is a criminal holding you over a sheer drop of fourteen thousand feet or...or...
Darkness.
When she was small, Sakura's parents took her to the ocean in southern Fire Country during the summer months. She was content to play in the sand, building castles and pretending she was a fairy princess. She even made friends who never teased her about her forehead or pushed her down like the kids in Konoha. But the best part of those trips was the sailboat her parents would rent for the week. Sakura had never slept better than she had on that sailboat, the waves lulling her to sleep. It was peaceful, simple.
The waves were beating her again, in and out, but this time they were waking her up. Her father would be docking the boat soon and she could get back to her sandcastles and pretend fairy prince. But as the waves nudged her closer to shore, she began to notice that something wasn't right. It was warm, but not the kind of warm one felt under the sun's rays. It smelled of running water and turned earth. The only salt she could taste on her tongue didn't remind her of the ocean at all.
Slowly, Sakura opened her eyes to heavy darkness. She wasn't at the ocean and her sandcastle was far behind her. Her nameless, faceless fairy prince was nowhere to be found, not then and not now. Shifting her weight, she found her arms were draped around someone's neck. She was getting a high-speed piggyback ride.
Her chauffeur must have felt her rouse. He jumped down from the canopy of leafy trees, practiced steps bounding lightly against the trunks until they reached the safety of the earth.
"Sasori," Sakura said, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth. It tasted like she'd brushed her teeth with gutter runoff.
He laid her down against a nearby tree trunk and crouched down in front of her. The only light came from the stars and the barest sliver of a crescent moon fighting with all its might to shine through night's veil.
"We're on the outskirts of Konoha," Sasori said. "The night patrols will be around soon. This is as far as I go."
Konoha... She was back. Sure enough, as her senses returned to her, Sakura could feel that her heavy winter clothing was gone and she wore only her traditional Konoha attire. Had Sasori done that? She certainly hadn't. Swallowing, she tried to regain her bearings. He waited for her to say something, but instead of speaking, Sakura mustered all the natural strength she could and slapped him hard.
Sasori's face snapped to the side under the force of her blow despite the lingering effects of the drug in her system still making her groggy. Like the day in the cave, he peered at her out of the corner of his eye before turning his head to face her again.
"Don't you ever do that to me again," Sakura said, panting.
Sasori's gaze lowered to her neck where he'd stuck her with the hypo before, but his expression remained unchanged. He didn't even rub his cheek to dispel the sting. "I chose to preserve your life over your modesty. You didn't protest when I treated you before."
Sakura felt tears sting her eyes and her cheeks heat up. "You don't know what I went through with Kabuto." She raised a hand to her left shoulder where Kabuto had stuck her with the chakra sealing agent like a caged animal.
Sasori's eyes narrowed but he said nothing. Try as she might to hold back the tears, they wanted out. Stupid, stupid girl. Of course Sasori would know. Of course he would know.
"As if your demons are more terrifying than mine," his voice boomed in her memory.
"That nightmare's behind you. We have other things to worry about now." He said it softly, almost gently, but there was nothing warm in his words. It was a warning.
"...I know," she said. "I know."
"I'm going to teach you the hand seals for the blood binding technique. Pay attention."
Sakura squinted through the dark and made sure she paid careful attention to Sasori's instructions. It wasn't complicated, but there were twenty seals in total. It took her a few tries to get them right. She repeated the process to commit it to memory, but in the middle somewhere she felt something warm on her temple.
Sasori coaxed her face upwards and wiped the few rebellious tears that had escaped with his thumb. It was the same thumb with the scars she had felt last night.
"Sasori," Sakura said, unsure. This was where they parted ways and still she had so many questions. "Why me? You owe it to me to tell me."
Nearby, the sounds of people approaching reached them. Their time was up. He was leaving, and she would still be stuck foundering in the dark. That was unacceptable. Sakura reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer so that he wouldn't leave without a last word.
"Please, can you just answer me that?"
His hand was still on her cheek catching tears, and he slid it to her chin. The scarred pad of his thumb ran over her lower lip, chapped from the wind chill of the northern continent and their flight to the southern edge of the world. Sakura's heart thundered in her chest, and she was afraid he might hear it, too. He was so close and so warm, so unlike the ice hidden beneath those pretty eyes like false sunshine. She tasted her tears on his finger.
"I can," he said.
Sakura felt his words just inches from her lips, and any minute now she was convinced he was going to kiss her. Shouts in the distance drew closer. Someone had sensed their presence and was coming closer.
"But I don't owe you anything," Sasori said. His fingers found the tender spot where he'd abused her neck with the needle earlier, tracing light circles around it to soothe the ache as if in apology, if Sasori was even capable of remorse.
So gentle.
Sakura wanted to cry again, but for the life of her she could not. Her hands loosened around his shirtfront as a thousand thoughts tried to clutter her head. Only one stood out over the cacophony:
"Wait."
By now, whoever was coming was nearly upon them. Sakura was sure she could hear a dog barking.
"You know I hate to wait," he said, pulling away and backing up.
With one last lingering look, he disappeared into the trees. Not a minute later, Sakura had managed to stand on wobbly legs and greet the Konoha scouts that had picked up her scent.
"Over here," she said, voice cracking from disuse and the soporific effects of the agent Sasori had given her.
"Who's there? Identify yourself!"
He'd left her to rejoin friends and family, life and love. Orochimaru and Kabuto had almost made her believe she was dead to the world, but here it was welcoming her back home. All because of him.
"Haruno Sakura," she said, leaning on the tree for support. "I'm Haruno Sakura."
He'd left her for now, but only because he knew she would seek him out again. People loved to be afraid of their nightmares.
