Deidara shut the door, and waited until the sounds of Tobi's footsteps faded. The bomber had refused point-blank to share a room with Tobi, and that refusal was still undergoing perusal by the supposed higher-ups.

For the moment, Deidara didn't quite care enough to actually keep arguing for more than what was needed to buy himself a few more hours without Sasori's things being removed from the room.

He started removing drawers from Sasori's desk with a rapidity that many would be rather disturbed by.

Danna had told him. There were instructions on what to do. Deidara knew that. There was a scroll, somewhere, that had those instructions, and he knew he could find it if he just. Kept. Looking.

He unhinged a false bottom on a drawer to the bottom left, and let out a relieved sigh. He pulled out a scroll, black with a strange gold and red filigree on it, scorpions emblazoned along the edges. Deidara held in an excited squeal as he noticed exactly what he was holding.

Yes. This was definitely what he had been looking for.

He glanced over his shoulder, listening closely in case someone tried to interrupt what he was about to do. Hearing nothing, he turned back to the scroll and rubbed some blood on the seal to open it. With a small hiss, the scroll rolled and slid open.

He grinned at the words and symbols. "I'll bring you back, Sasori no Danna."

And then he did.


The first to realize what was going on was Hidan. No one understood why he suddenly ran off and started ranting about undoing death, especially not when he locked himself away in the room he shared with Kakuzu and refused to come out.

Then again, no one really wanted to understand anything about Hidan. He was rather insane, after all.


Sasori had recreated his body long after he had first turned himself into a puppet, growing and fixing and sewing together his old skin and flesh and bones until he had a perfect copy. He sealed away part of his essence, just enough to trigger and call his soul back if he ever died.

Once, while feeling rather nostalgic, he had admitted to Deidara that he had been inspired by several of Orochimaru's experiments and theories.

To see that body, young and whole and real, not some pale wooden imitation, was… it was a miraculous thing that stole Deidara's breath away.

(He was just glad that the body was clothed.)

There was a seal, right in the middle of the forehead, and Deidara's fingers shook as he touched it, pushing in the chakra that would revive his Sasori.

There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke, no horrifying noise. There was just a slow crawl of ink as the seal slowly disappeared, as though being unwritten, a film being rewound.

Sasori's eyes fluttered open, and he turned to look at Deidara, the only other person in the room, the one with shining eyes and a breathless smile and—

"Who are you?"


A/N: You see, when I get sad about stories getting less reviews than I'm used to, I get sad and start stories.

A lot of stories.

Like… a metric s***ton of stories.

You know this.

I know this.

We all know that this cannot end well.

But I do it anyway.

I really am a moron, huh?

Ja ne,