There was one thing Sakura had been anticipating when she opened the door - a surprise attack. She was half expecting an arrow (or something of the like) to come flying at her face; she'd dug the heel of her shoe deeper into the ground with each passing second, hoping that nothing popped out at her. When the door stood completely ajar, she'd squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself, ready for something to happen. But she what she met was deafening silence. Sakura tentatively opened an eye. The room was completely and utterly empty. She shut the door behind her.

Now don't you feel silly, the voice inside her head laughed. Would you look at that? No one's even here.

Sakura whirled around and swung her fist at the door, easily smashing a hole into it. Wooden splinters clattered to the floor as she seethed. She'd been a complete fool, worrying about survival in the class and her faith in her promise to her mentors, but there wasn't even anyone there. She'd been a fool to shut her eyes and allow Pein and Tobi to scare her. Sakura turned her head to the side and spotted a lonely chair. With one final fit of anger, she punted into the air and smirked as it fell into a disgraceful heap a few feet away. However, the moment the chair had landed onto the ground, a faint click sounded from the high ceiling, and a few small spheres crashed to the floor.

Curious, Sakura approached the spheres. They appeared to be rather harmless. "What-"

BOOM!

Yellows, oranges, blues, and reds exploded in her face before she could react, and the moment she caught a whiff of the smoke, she knew she was in trouble.

Bad idea! Abort, abort! Stink bomb!

But it was too late. An awful stench of old socks scraped along the insides of a dirty toilet and dog farts filled Sakura's nose as she frantically tried to respire. She gagged and flailed, fanning away the smoke with a hand that she had begrudgingly decided to spare.

Oh god, it's worse than Akamaru's…

Her face changed between several different shades, ranging from blue to green. She didn't want one more stink particle passing through her nose, but she didn't want to die either; holding her breath for more than a 30 seconds was edging towards her limits.

Breathe through your mouth, a desperate voice within her suggested.

She tried just that.

"Blurgh! It tastes even worse than it smells!" she choked out. Sakura scraped at her tongue, her eyes watering with disgust, realizing it stank so bad it had a taste. She was completely surrounded by the god awful smell, and she had a feeling she'd be smelling/tasting it for weeks. Whoever came up with that concoction had to be either a genius or a nutjob, or maybe even both. Whatever the case, the list of the names of people she was going to seriously injure increased by one.

Sakura braved the stink, waiting for the thick smoke to dissipate. While the haze of colors faded away, the malodor stubbornly clung to her clothes.

The room was silent, save for the squeaks her shoes made as she scooted across the floor. Glancing around the room, Sakura could tell what the people in this class devoted most of their time to. If the punching bag in the corner didn't give it away, then maybe the assorted weapons hanging on the far end of the wall did. Her eyes skimmed over a collection of bats, knives, swords, and bows. Metal arms glinted maliciously under the lights, and even the wooden kinds didn't seem so friendly - she quickly decided to appreciate the weapons from a distance, hoping that none of them were rigged to slice her face in half if she got too close. Sakura knew not what to expect, so she judged it was best to be as paranoid as possible; the smoke bombs probably weren't going to be the only things that were going to come flying out.

Apparently, though, she wasn't being paranoid enough; the room was completely riddled with traps.

She hadn't even moved a few feet when the floor beneath her decided to split open, threatening to swallow her whole into a pipe that lead to who-knows-where. Sakura quickly skirted out of the way, only to find herself sidestepping onslaughts of shuriken that crashed through the ceiling tiles. Hordes of the star-shaped blades embedded themselves in the wood. She yelped as senbon sprouted from the ground between her feet, paling immediately as she understood her situation: she was walking through a minefield of traps.

Who were these people anyway? Ninjas? Wherever she placed her feet, she felt a mini heart attack. If more stink bombs weren't falling from the ceiling, then arrows were blasting her way from the other side of the room.

She stopped, panting at the sudden dose of exercise. "I really need to work on my cardio," she grimaced, resting her hands on her knees for support. It'd been far too long since she last went to the gym or even exerted herself; she'd spent the entirety of the year studying at home, much to Kakashi's and Naruto's disappointment. Sakura's lungs and thighs were burning. "Kill me now," she wheezed. Her vision remained pinned on the floor beneath her in an attempt to stop the room from spinning.

But she noticed something was wrong. Her shadow was huge, and it was only getting bigger. Sakura's eyes widened in shock as her head snapped up to see a giant hand plummeting towards her spot on the ground. She stood, frozen, her jaw dropping to the floor.

At the last possible moment, she rolled out of the way, letting the palm smack into the floor and crush the floorboards with its sheer weight.

Sakura clutched at her heart, trying to regulate her breathing and calm her heart.

The hell was that!?

Running a shaky finger over the enormous hand, she realized it was molded from pure concrete and had busted up the floor. More importantly though, Sakura cringed at the thought of being smashed into a flat pancake.

Day 1 at Ame High School, she thought bitterly. I've almost died 147 times, and my principal is a psycho. I've also destroyed half of my classroom within the span of a few minutes. Please… just let me go home and take a nap… and never come back again.

Sakura lowered herself to the floor and laid down, sprawled beside the hand of death, shutting her eyes, content with the darkness. The ringing in her head quieted. Her head didn't feel quite so woozy, either. All in all, the floor was a nice place to take that nap she wanted.

"Maybe if I just closed my eyes, I'll wake up back at home in my ugly horse pajamas that mom and dad got me for Christmas. Or maybe I'll wake up in Ino's house."

Click!

Reality had just had to give her a backhand.

She groaned. Wearily, Sakura peeled her eyes open just in time to see a small, rectangular object close in on her face.

"Really?" she sighed, exasperated. She didn't even bother to move. She let her body become one with the cold, wooden floor as she watched the object grow in size.

Doink!

She simply laid there after the powder-covered chalkboard eraser anticlimactically bounced off her face and created a cloud of dust that settled on her cheeks and forehead. It was as if the room was actively trying to rub salt on the wound.

Thinking back to the first day she'd met Kakashi, Sakura had to laugh a little. She, Naruto, and Sasuke (mostly Naruto) had rigged the door with an eraser freshly coated with chalk dust, and Kakashi had fallen for it. Of course, he didn't let them go unpunished; they had to run laps around the neighborhood and organize his porn collection (Sakura, unfortunately, had the extra task of making sure Naruto didn't flip through any of it, but she had failed). She shuddered as she recalled the image that had spoiled her innocent eyes. Who knew Kakashi had an obsession with bondage?

Even as the images of scantily clad women drenched in oil flashed through her mind, a bitter smile had to grace Sakura's lips. She missed her old school and the old dojo, but most of all, she missed her friends and classmates. Ever since she'd moved to Ame, she couldn't stop thinking about her friends. They'd never be able to visit her. Konoha was too far; a trip to Ame (if they could even find the damned place on a map) would take at least two day's worth of driving. They wouldn't be able to text her either because as Sakura had discovered, service was awful with the constantly rainy weather.

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. A lump formed in her throat.

I can't keep doing this… wallowing in my nostalgia.

She wiped away the chalk, sweat, and tears on her face with her sleeve, glad that no one was there to see her moment of weakness. She knew her loyalty to her friends had always been her Achilles' Heel, and she also knew it was time to move on; Naruto wasn't here, and neither was Ino nor TenTen. They, as well as many others, had always been there for her, helping her along and cheering her on, but she was on her own for once - she had to get used to solitude. She had to learn to trust her own judgment, even if it meant going against what she'd been taught. She was, after all, no longer in Konoha, where everything was clean cut and clear. She was now at Ame High School, where everything was confusing, and the principal had enough piercings to last him a lifetime.

Can I do it, though? She bit her lip.

Sakura's heart clenched tightly. She'd always been the kind of person to seek shelter in friends, but her sentimentality towards them was holding her back. She was beginning to realize that she'd never adjust if she kept thinking about what had been, what could've been; Sakura was going to have to push them aside, else she would be mentally weak forever. Her physical strength would mean nothing if she couldn't even trust herself to remain strong. She had to focus on the "now."

What about your promise? The voice in her mind was grave and solemn. Do you think you can keep it?

"I don't know," she whispered, clenching her hands into fists. "And I don't want to think about it anymore."

Sakura took a shaky breath, slamming her fist into the ground and forcing herself to sit up, reassessing her surroundings. She was stuck in the middle of an oversized classroom with booby traps, ready for her on a moment's notice. Her first priority: she had to escape. She scanned the area around her to find something that could help her. The walls were bare and coated with a clean layer of white paint, highlighting the black, brown, and grey weapons hanging on it. The windows were rather large, and the glass appeared to be rather thick. The way that lead directly to the door seemed plausible, but the almost silent buzzing noises in the floor and ceiling suggested that the traps were being reloaded; it seemed that there was no good way to leave the room. However, she also had the displeasure of seeing a big, red button that she hadn't noticed before on the wall that read, "Trap Deactivation Switch."

Her eye twitched violently as she understood that there was a way to turn off the traps instead of stumbling around and activating every single one. She glared with distaste at the eraser that had gotten in an easy hit on her and reached down to retrieve a shuriken that had tried to bite her flesh earlier. With deadly precision, Sakura planted the weapon in the eraser with one, firm throw.

Silently, she cursed her horrible luck that managed to land her in Class S, and she wished to go bananas and vent her frustration on the punching bag she'd seen, maybe even tear it in half, but she knew better than to rashly move around (she wasn't completely opposed to the idea that she might accidentally step on an activated switch and explode in the process). But it wasn't just the prospect of traps - Sakura couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the atmosphere had suddenly become unusually tense - the air unnaturally still.

There was no doubt about it. She was being watched.

The first order of business was to disable the remaining traps. Chances were that someone or something was going to attack her, and if she wanted to be able to maneuver well, Sakura couldn't have weapons with her death written on it coming her way. Inching her way towards the big, red button, Sakura was careful to tread lightly. If there was anything worse than getting caught by an elementary level prank, it was getting caught twice; there was no way she was letting herself get doused with a bucket of water that was somehow hidden in the ceiling. Once she reached the button, Sakura tentatively pushed it, and to her relief, a faint whir echoed throughout the cold air, and the button turned green. The quiet buzz in the ceiling and the floor had all but faded away.

Perhaps it was out of instinct that she edged her way towards the wall of weapons while she kept her eyes on the environment. Her hand begrudgingly reached out behind her and wrapped around the handle of a wooden katana. It wasn't until she heard a pair of feet scuttle across the ceiling tiles that she carefully unhooked the sword from the wall and held it before her in the fashion she had seen the kendo club hold their shinai. While using swords wasn't Sakura's strength, she knew the basic grip, the basic stance, and in a room as big as this, a weapon that offered range was ideal. It was smarter than chasing someone down to fight close range, needlessly wasting energy. But the sword felt heavy in her hands, and for a moment, her arms sagged under the weight.

I swore not to do this. The sword lowered by a fraction of an inch.

You know there's something in here with you. You can feel its killing intent, can't you?

Sakura narrowed her eyes. Yes, she could. It was a sickly sensation that crawled over her entire body and slipped straight to her scalp. A fight was inevitable, but a part of her didn't want to betray her mentors.

Well, if you don't, you're going to get your ass beaten by something or someone you can't even see. I can tell you that much, her inner voice snickered. You either use the sword and protect yourself or you sit there like a pig in a slaughterhouse.

But I made a promise. I promised I wouldn't unnecessarily hurt people. The thought weighed heavily on Sakura's mind; she was stubbornly clinging onto her last ties to her old home, her old self - the one who stuck to the rules and didn't have a worry in the world.

Look at it this way. You haven't even been in this school for more than an hour, and people are already trying to attack you - even kill you, the voice tried. A pause. It's time you broke that promise.

I can't. I won't.

Yet she knew she was lying to herself. Her other self had won a long time ago. She had known what she was getting herself into; she'd made her decision the second she'd picked up the sword, and there was no turning back now. There was no way in hell she was going to survive at this school by being apathetic. These people were serious enough to plant their classroom with traps, no matter how childish some of them seemed, and more than a few had nearly killed her. She had to discard the naive girl within her and focus.

Sakura could feel adrenaline pumping through her veins, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the room. She could feel her desire to fight surging through her entire body, her primal instincts taking over. Her ears were listening attentively to the eerie silence and her fingers tingled with familiar anticipation. She dared not say it out loud, but she wanted to know who her opponent was and how he or she fought; her old habits were resurfacing after a quiet year.

Guilt pushed aside and the thought of her promise reluctantly chucked out the window, she focused, her body tensing.

There was no point to dwelling on the past.

Sakura steeled her resolve and stepped forward cautiously. Something was coming, and it wasn't her imagination for sure. She could hear it. She could feel it. It was a tension that bubbled faintly, but yes, it was there.

She took another step. Still, nothing.

She needed to be patient.

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for something that would give away a position.

One more step, she thought. One more step.

Lifting her left foot, Sakura paused for a moment, waiting. Then, she set it down. Gently. An almost silent rustle sounded from overhead.

Her head snapped to the ceiling. From above!

She snatched her foot back and leapt out of the way as a dark, caped figure hurtled towards her. It crashed into a heap on the ground. For a few seconds, there was nothing but stillness that filled the gap between Sakura and the dark lump on the floor. The sword remained poised. Her heart was beating furiously, but the mass on the floor didn't even move.

Without warning, a pale hand shot out from under the jumbles of black fabric and clawed at the floor. Sakura winced at the high-pitched squeaks.

Like nails on a blackboard...

The drop must have been at least twenty feet, but the caped figure easily leapt to its feet, a chattering sound filling the air as it stood there, brandishing retractable blades that shot out from under its wrists. It seemed to float in the air, a dead look in its eyes. That was all she could see - the eyes - and they glowed from under the shadows of the hood, the rest of the body obscured by the black tattered cape. Yet, Sakura could tell that the build was in the shape of a human.

It drifted and swayed towards her in a ghostly fashion, its feet tapping faintly against the floor as it pattered towards her. Even from a distance, Sakura could see that the caped figure was at least a foot taller than she was. Embroidered on the tip of its hood was a combination of a letter and a number. She could only assume P1 was the thing's name. What it stood for? She had no clue. But she knew that she was in danger; alarms were blaring in her mind.

Sakura tightened her grip on the wooden katana. What the hell is that!? I thought I disabled everything! I thought a person was watching me!

Who cares what you thought? Her panicked inner voice screeched. Just kill it!

What if it's a person?

You really think people can survive 20 foot drops from the ceiling?

It stopped in front of her, and it easily towered over her. She watched as it slowly raised a hand. The metal body extensions glinted in the light, and time flowed like honey. Then, it cleaved downwards, making a whistling sound as the knife cut through the air. Sakura danced out of the way and tried a jab, putting her strength behind the blow, but to her surprise, P1 leapt into the air. It flew down at her, the blades under its wrists whirring. She parried each blow, digging her feet into the floor to withstand the impact.

Left, right, up, behind - unrelenting attacks came from virtually every direction, and Sakura matched them all. Yet, she was beginning to tire out, her limbs weary from constant exertion. She needed to end it soon, but none of her attacks seemed to injure P1. What made it worse was that nicks and cuts began appearing on her skin.

Maybe I'm not hitting hard enough.

In an attempt to finish the fight, Sakura ducked under a swipe and smacked the caped figure's chest area with her wooden katana, every ounce of strength pushed behind it.

P1 flew backwards from the impact but was quick to get back to its feet, not unlike how it recovered from the ceiling-high drop. Sakura watched in horror as its joints shook and clattered, the head twisting around in complete circles in its socket and the knives sliding in and out from under the wrist. The arms and legs bent at funny angles before dangling downwards again. A snapping sound echoed, and strangely enough, it seemed to originate from the head.

Definitely not human…

She dodged a barrage of needles that it spit out by rolling to the side.

"Great - more pointy objects. Whoever designed you," she panted, "needs to reconsider his or her life." She leapt over a leg sweep. "And get put in a straightjacket." Sakura delivered a swift stab to its chest.

Crack!

Her eyes widened. Her sword was beginning to splinter; a fissure stretched down the length of it.

"Tch." Wood was clearly doing nothing anyway. At most, it stalled her opponent for a few seconds. She needed an alternative, and fast. Sakura's eyes landed on a sword of metal that glistened on the wall.

Quickly, she slammed the wooden sword into the freakshow before turning on her heel and running for an authentic katana. Without a second thought, she wrestled with the string that connected it to the wall. Just as Sakura freed it from the display, she heard the head twisting around in its socket again. It sounded like an angry chatter, and the sound was only growing louder. Unsheathing her new weapon quickly, she whirled around and met a knife strike with her sword. With a yell, she pushed P1 back.

Sakura dashed towards her non-human assailant and knocked aside an arrow that came out from who-knows-where. Swinging her sword, Sakura narrowed her eyes and slashed at P1 with precision, her expression remorseless, and it fell to the floor with a thump, cut cleanly in two. Cautiously, she poked it with her sword. Nothing. So the lone girl quickly began tearing the clothes off the figure to reveal what was underneath. She was hoping the thing she was vigorously stripping wouldn't surprise her any further.

"It's just a wooden doll," she breathed, recognizing the faint swirls embedded in the light brown surface.

The room was quiet once again - the only sound that permeated the air was the sound of Sakura's foot prodding the lifeless, wooden doll halves at her feet, turning them over to see its front.

As if she'd activated something, the top half of the doll whirred back to life. Its fingers sank into the floorboards as zombie-P1 tried to scratch its way toward her.

Her lips twisted into a scowl.

Tch. Katana in hand, she sent the it crashing through the doll's head.

Stubborn.

Tracing her eyes to the ceiling, Sakura could see the ceiling tile that had a thin slit through the middle and a few hinges on the sides. It was a nearly invisible trap door. The rest of the ceiling was lined with various beams and poles, no doubt the method to the doll's motion. How it worked, she had no idea, but she was curious. Sakura wanted to know how the doll had moved so fluidly and attacked with the power of a human.

"Genius," she whispered. Sakura crouched down and picked up both halves of the doll, careful to keep the sword beside her.

It's rather heavy, she observed. Much heavier than how much a wooden doll with a few weapons in it should weigh. I wonder why.

"Maybe there's something else inside the doll," she mused aloud.

Turning them over to see the innards, the lone girl could feel her blood run cold. Inside the doll halves were numerous knives, needles, arrows, and vials, all rigged to come out of little doors, and attached to the arms were strings that stretched to the trap door where the doll had sprung from. Sakura set down the half with the mutilated head and inspected the other half that rested in her lap. Carefully, she pushed aside a bundle of wires and picked out a knife from the assortments of other weaponry. Lightly, she traced a finger over the blade, allowing a tiny trickle of blood to drip from the cut. Her heart clenched at a sudden pressure she felt on her hands that quickly spread over the rest of her body, but she continued with the task.

It's well sharpened, too. Someone had obviously spent a long time on it along with the rest of the doll. Sharpening each and every knife and placing each and every needle in its own place must have been excruciatingly difficult. Then, she gently removed a vial from the insides and unscrewed the lid. Carrying her chemistry group back in Konoha High School clearly had its benefits; she knew better than to touch or smell the mystery substance. She also knew she should have been wearing a pair of gloves and a dinky apron, but in the spirit of science, Sakura poured the contents of the tube onto the doll's empty expression.

The liquid chewed through the wood in record time, turning the light brown color into a yellowish-green hue, cutting through any facial features, disfiguring the poor thing even more. The face morphed and evolved, the nose disintegrating and the thinly cut mouth spreading into a grotesque smile that revealed a set of spiky teeth.

Thank goodness I stopped it before this stuff came out. She eyed the remaining contents of the tiny flask with interest.

Sakura prodded the face with the tip of the sword, recognizing what had been in the vial. "It's acid," she realized in awe. Standing shakily and using the sword as support, she turned towards the door that now stood ajar.

"You made this?"

She'd sensed his approach and his quiet anger when she'd started dissecting the doll and examining the hidden weapons. He'd been watching and observing, scrutinizing her every move. There was not a doubt in Sakura's mind: this person was the one who made P1 - the one with the master hands.

Good going, her inner voice snickered. You just pissed off a delinquent by taking his precious doll apart. I bet he spent years on that thing.

"Hey, I'm sorry that I cut your doll in half," she called, "but it came out of nowhere. I couldn't help it."

The hooded figure in the door said nothing. Instead, he reached into his back pocket and slowly brandished more than a few throwing knives. He fanned them out under his masked face and narrowed his eyes.

Sakura tensed, her eyes trained on the mysterious person. They were quite a distance apart, but the throwing knives he was wielding could close the gap rather quickly. Holding the sword up once more, she watched. But in the blink of an eye, he'd disappeared.

Shit. She glanced around, and for once in her life, Sakura wished that humans didn't blink. It was a completely ridiculous bodily function that had caused her to lose him.

"You'll pay for that."

Her eyes widened as she whirled around, ducking under a whizzing knife. She drove her sword forward, but it went through nothing but air. Gritting her teeth, Sakura quickly retracted her arm and slashed in an arc at the hooded figure who suddenly appeared beside her, sending him back a few steps. She'd been aiming for his head, hoping to hit a pressure point, but he'd evidently dodged that strike. The sword may have missed its mark, but it had grazed his hood and pushed it back. A hint of rust colored hair peeked out from under the cloth.

A red head?

He moved quickly, weaving in and out of her strikes with grace, and responded to her slices with quick flicks of his wrist. Knives flew at her in all directions, and Sakura grit her teeth, swatting them away with her sword.

But the katana was meeting the end of its lifespan; it was riddled with cuts, and the steel blade was losing its edge. Her opponent had quite the throwing arm. To some extent, keeping her distance with a sword had worked; her opponent circled from far away even after he'd all but depleted his supply of knives, but Sakura knew that she was also nearing the limit of her physical capabilities.

So, she resorted to talking.

"Why are you still attacking me?" She asked, trying her goddamn best to hide her fatigue. "I already apologized for breaking it."

Her adversary remained silent as he reached down and wrenched a knife free from the ground. The gash in the floor was jagged and large, and the way he was twirling the knife around didn't make him look any less dangerous.

"Don't talk much, do you? Look, I know you're still upset about your doll-"

He rushed towards her, catching her off guard, and tackled her to the floor. Quickly, the hooded man knocked the sword out of her hand, and his hazel eyes flashed with unbridled rage. His body hovered over hers, his right hand caging her wrists above her head. The other hand positioned a knife at the base of her throat. Sakura's heart was beating out of her chest.

Well that seemed to tick him off.

"Apologize." His cold voice echoed through the room.

Sakura narrowed her eyes. "I did. You're just too big of an ass to accept my apology."

"You…" he hissed murderously. The knife pressed harder against her skin.

"Let go."

"No."

Sakura huffed angrily. "Ok, then. Since you clearly didn't hear it the first time I said it, I'm sorry I cut your doll in half and -"

"They're not dolls," he interrupted.

Sakura lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I don't like to repeat myself," he hissed. "But I'll do it because you appear to be deaf. They're not dolls." The red head gave her a good, long glare. "Apologize."

She blinked repeatedly, and it finally dawned upon her. "You're trying to kill me because I called P1 a doll?"

"It's a puppet, you imbecile," he seethed. "There's a difference."

"You came here to fight me just because of some stupid misunderstanding?" Sakura glowered. "Why didn't you just tell me in the first place!?" she cried, exasperated. "You didn't have to scare the living shit out of me with your doll-puppet thing! I almost died!"

"There you go again," he scoffed. The knife was beginning to puncture her skin.

She shook her head in an attempt to alleviate the stress building up in her mind. "Please, tell me. What's the difference?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you," he spat, tightening his grip on her wrists. "You wouldn't understand."

"Hey…" Sakura's eyes twitched as struggled against his hold. The guy was acting like a spoiled little kid, and his personality was starting to remind her of a certain person with chicken butt hair. "What's your name, brat?"

I bet it starts with an 'S', a part of her wagered.

"Brat? I wouldn't tell the likes of you-"

"Hey, Sasori!" A blonde male darted into the room and quickly kneeled by Sakura's captor. "Did you find the new girl? What's she like?"

Told you.

The third party looked down at Sakura, who was helplessly caught by Sasori and his knife. "Danna-sama, should I come back later?"

Sasori was glaring daggers, and for a moment, his grip loosened as he turned his head to reprimand the bystander.

Taking her chance, Sakura used the last of her strength to fling herself forward, knocking her forehead against Sasori's at full force. Despite the sting on her head and the blood trickling down her collarbone, Sakura wheezed in triumph as Sasori stumbled backwards and clutched his head. She scrambled to her feet and jabbed a finger at the one who'd been restraining her.

"You're an idiot! Who does that anyway?" She clutched her throat, trying to breathe evenly. Sasori said nothing - he was too busy rubbing his head. Sakura held up a finger. "Give me a second...before I shove a cactus up your ass," she coughed. Her mind was numb, and she felt like melting into the floor. Black spots flickered in her vision and bile crawled up her esophagus. In other words, she felt like shit, and she wanted to lie down.

"You the new girl?" The blonde guy asked cheerily.

"What's it … to you?" she panted. Emerald met blue through hazy sight.

"I'm Deidara, one of your new classmates. Nice to meet you, yeah. I'm his partner." He glanced over at Sasori, who was now kneeling down by the fallen P1. "You called his puppet a doll, didn't you."

Sakura nodded, her eyesight clearing a bit. She squinted to get a good look at him. Deidara, too, wore a black hoodie, and a mask hung loosely around his neck. He looked to be about her age, and in his hands, he was fiddling around with some clay. Not really listening to him, Sakura stared at his fingers that pinched and stretched the clay, and in a few short seconds, the formless grey blob had become a bird with details and all.

"Partner?" she echoed. "Like a boyfriend?"

"Definitely not," he immediately deadpanned. Deidara examined Sakura as she fidgeted uncomfortably. His blue eyes and carefree personality (even his absurdly long hair) reminded her a lot of Naruto, but it just so happened to be that he was a potential psychopath. "If you don't want to piss off Sasori, you shouldn't call his 'puppets' 'dolls,' yeah."

Sakura flinched as he leaned closer and cupped a mouth to her ear.

"But there really isn't a difference," Deidara whispered. "He's just prideful about his art. He thinks that the best art will withstand the test of time."

"Deidara." Sasori had removed his hood and mask. His lips were twisted into a half-scowl as he inspected his broken puppet, not even paying attention to the two. "What are you doing?" He pressed a button on the side of his puppet, and the wooden shell was quick to come apart. The weapons Sakura had been examining clattered to the ground. Sasori began picking through them, examining each and every knife and needle.

Deidara shrugged. "Getting to know our new classmate? Sakura, right?" He offered her the bird he'd fashioned.

She lifted an eyebrow at this and shifted her weight onto her back foot. "I never told you my name."

That bird is shady as fuck, Sakura thought, but she took it anyway.

"No need to get defensive, yeah." Deidara held up a hand, the other digging through his pocket. "See? Pein sent us your information." He produced a cell phone and handed it to Sakura.

And sure enough, there it was. Everything anyone would want to know about her was displayed on the tiny screen, which included the addresses of any houses she'd ever stayed at, all the schools she'd ever attended, her GPA, and her picture. Sakura remained silent as she continued scrolling.

Pein had amassed quite the database. He had information about her, going down to the tiniest details, like the names of aunts, relatives, friends, her weight, and even her bra size. And it had ended up in the hands of her classmates.

"He sent this to everyone?" Sakura's voice was frigid, the phone beginning to crack under the pressure of her grip.

"Well," Deidara muttered, tilting his head thoughtfully to the side. "Not everyone in the school, but to everyone in Class S, yeah." He paused and looked at her hand. "And you're breaking my phone."

"Good." Sakura tossed him the clay bird and summoned her strength, proceeding to crush the device with her bare hands. It crumpled like tinfoil under the pressure. She then winded her arm back and aimed for the window.

"H-hey, what are you doing, yeah?" Deidara's face was pale as chalk as he reached out for the phone. "Kakuzu's gonna kill me."

But he was too late.

In her fury, Sakura had launched it at the window, shattering the panes of glass as it departed from the room's premises. They stood in silence, the sound of the annihilated device hitting the ground reaching their ears.

Thunk!

Deidara's jaw dropped the floor. His hand was outstretched and frozen in time, reaching out dramatically for something that would never come back. "My phone…"

Uh oh.

Once again, Sakura had put her anger before rational thought, and she began sweating like a pig.

He's probably pissed. I swear, if he's anything like Tobi...

"Nevermind the phone." Sasori stood and patted the dust off his pants. The battered puppet's remains lay scattered at his feet. "We have an assignment to complete." His eyes fell onto Sakura. "You're coming with us."

She chewed nervously on her lip. "Assignment?" Her anger ebbed away, but it was soon replaced with doubt. There was no way he meant sitting down and breaking open a Calculus textbook to answer a few practice questions, and he definitely didn't mean doing a Biology project.

So what could it mean?

"We must finish the assignment before the end of the day," the redhead continued in his controlled tone, effectively ignoring her question. "We have much to do."

He turned away and drifted towards the door. Sakura peeked at Deidara. He nodded and took off after Sasori. He didn't look too angry; she had just wrecked his phone. But she wasn't too worried about the cheery blonde guy. Her eyes zoomed in on Sasori's back.

It's always the quiet ones…

With the way he'd pinned her down and stuck a knife right against her skin without a figment of remorse sent shivers up her spine. He was living proof that she needed to be careful. The blood at her throat wasn't bleeding quite as heavily, but it had dribbled down to stain her white collar. Sakura swiped the blood and smeared it on her thumb.

Wow.

"Hey, you coming?" Deidara stuck his head back into the room and motioned for her to hurry up.

Sakura blinked, then shook her head.

"Sure… I guess." Sakura stumbled after them, the idea of an assignment plaguing her mind.

It can't be good.

But she was curious.

Her feet carried her back out into the lounge-like hall, to find that the pair had been waiting for her. She stared at them quizzically.

"Take this, yeah."

Deidara tossed a bag at her, and she caught it.

"What's this?" She fingered the plastic-wrapped item inside.

"Don't want to get caught, do you?" The corners of his lips curled upwards, and his eyes narrowed. "Put it on,"

Sakura blinked. "Wait, what do you mean get caught?"