Thirteen -

The sand twisted around her, filling her lungs and blinding her vision. Between hacking coughs, she stumbled forward, eager to get out of the desert and the storm - literally - blowing in.

With no freedom or luck in sight, praying was the only option she truly had.

'Kami-sama…'

Her body began to levitate from the ground, skin being tugged at in select places. It was horrid; watching herself be raised by some unseen force.

The sands followed her higher and higher, up until she could stare into the eye of the blood-red setting sun. It looked so frightening and familiar.

One arm jerked up, followed by the other, until she was dancing amidst the whirling storm.

What was happening?

Laughter rolled in on the fierce wind, a malevolent snicker, one every kid hides from beneath their

blankets.

The strong winds flowed into a dismal melody. The sound was akin to that of a music box; creaky, soft, old, eerie. Children's voices spun with the wind, caught within that haunting melody.

Another tug. Turning to her arm, she could see blood running from it where a string had been laced. The same was true for her opposite arm, both legs, and the back of her neck; the trickling feeling gave that much away.

The laughter continued, swallowed by the lost voices of children, in time with the dance she was being led to do.

A puppet; not led by chakra, nor made of wood. There were strings sewn into her flesh, moving her body against her will.

The sounds around her blocked out her thoughts, the sand blinded her eyes.

"Sakura-chan."

"Sakura…"

The distinct voice called out to her, echoed by the children's. Eventually, the masculine voice had faded out altogether, leaving only the melodic harmonies of little ones calling out to her like a nursery rhyme.

"Sakura, Sakura. Sakura…Sakura…"

x - x - x

The sun broke through the darkness like heaven's light, pulling her from the horrid place she'd been stuck in. Sakura ran her hands along her arms and the back of her neck, reassuring herself that her body was still hers to control.

Standing up from the bed, she surveyed the room, unconsciously reaching for her side where a kunai was typically located. Sleep still had hold on her, which became all the more obvious when all she grasped at was fabric and skin.

For having been captive for weeks, the fear and paranoia had begun to wore off until last night. Sakura could still taste the graininess in her mouth and struggled to see through bleary eyes. She also had the unconscious need to touch where her skin had been laced with threads.

The simulative feeling made her shutter; it had not been an actual physical experience, but the thought was torturous. Stitched together like a torn doll. Disgusting.

Luck befell her, as she was the only inhabitant of the room this morning. It was well past dawn, as the sun's position indicated, and the puppeteer was nowhere to be seen.

A rapping at the door startled drew her from her fearful trance, increasing her heartbeat at a rapid pace. Stalking to the door, she pressed her back to it, allowing her shinobi instincts to overtake her cowardice.

"What?"

"Lose the tone, un," the voice warned from the other side of the door. Pressure forced against her through the flimsy wood, and drew away only to make demands.

"Get away from the door."

Sakura shot daggers through it as her mind raced, sick of idle time and longing desperately for freedom. Glancing frantically around the room for any makeshift or actual weapon, she relinquished her pride as she found nothing.

Akasuna no Sasori was not stupid enough to leave a prisoner with weapons; nor was any other member of the Akatsuki.

Sakura pulled the door open, sweeping up a breeze in likeness to that of her nightmare's. Before her stood the blonde man, sans cloak, eyeing her from his one visible azure eye. Deidara idled for a moment before grabbing at her wrist and yanking her from the room.

"Let's go."

Sakura retaliated instinctually, jabbing his hand with a decent amount of force.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The blonde sneered and shook his head.

"Freeing you."

Sakura stared dumbly at him, unable to comprehend the concept he'd just thrown at her.

Sasori's partner, freeing her without demands?

Impossible…

There was something off about him; his physical presence appeared the same, but beneath the pale flesh something was awry. Sakura was unable to pin it, valiantly attempting to in the fleeting moments, but incapable of doing so.

"You," Sakura ventured, sarcasm and irritability rather audible in her tone, "are going to set me free?"

Deidara gave her a once-over and turned his back to her.

"I believe that's what I said, un."

Sakura lingered in Sasori's doorway, contemplating the potential risks and outcomes of either situation. Stay, go. Either way seemed overly dismal…

"Attaining your freedom by one little favor…"

The words walked through her mind like a bow-legged old man; painfully prominent and harsh to accept. Those had been Deidara's terms in order to let her go. Why would sadist meander up to his partner's door simply to tell his hostage,

'I'm freeing you'?

The opportunity was too good. The feeling it gave her was the exact feeling she'd had whenever Naruto came 'close' to bringing Sasuke back. Anxious, hopeful, but behind all those rushing emotions, the ominous truth lingered.

Then, it was that no matter what promises were made, no matter how many times the men went out searching, no matter if she were hopeful or not, Sasuke would never return.

Now, it was the fact of the matter that freedom was at her fingertips, anxiety overruling the clarity of her thoughts, but something in her conscious fought her, warning her that it wasn't right.

It was, true to the cliché phrase, too good to be true.

"I'll take my chances here," Sakura stated stubbornly, backing through the doorway and warily grasping the frame. She was ready to slam the door shut in his face at any moment.

"Sakura-chan…Sakura."

Her name sounded wrong on his lips. Sakura-chan? The formality was unnecessary and uncharacteristic of him. Despite her longing to see the outside of this malicious hellhole, her gut feelings overrode that desire and kept her rooted where she stood.

"Sakura-chan? Who the fuck are you calling Sakura-chan?"

Her emerald eyes narrowed at him, searching his face for any indication of falsity. It was there, dancing behind his visible eye; that wasn't him. There was no way the man standing before her was the Akatsuki's pyromaniac, Deidara.

When she laughed, the sound came out as disgusting as she was feeling. If this wasn't Deidara, who the hell was attempting to lure her from what 'safety' she had in Sasori's chambers?

"You aren't Deidara…there's no way." Through her words, her laughter continued. The giggles were nervous, a poor excuse for bravery. Any wise man knew that more complex forms of ninjutsu could be used to take on the appearance of another. "Who are you?"

The man before her hesitated, visible eye widening for a moment; a sheer sign of his deceit. Sakura grasped the doorframe tighter, hissing the words at him:

"Who are you?"

8/22: I cut this chapter short for effect; don't worry, I know where I want this to go and where it will.

However, I have just started my fall semester, so if the update is delayed (or any future one), this is why. My classes continue until mid-December.

I hope this fulfills your need for an update. The next chapter (if it goes the way I plan), should be the longest yet.

My goal is to increase the length of my chapters. Just know that I stopped this one where I did for a reason.

Thank you for all the reviews, they're wonderful.