"You better make up your mind." @ Sasori?
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Make up your mind.
Rude. So infuriating it makes him sick. Vomit on his tongue, a pit in his stomach... no. A boulder crushing him from the inside.
Sasori licks his lips, searching for an answer. His carefully sculpted face—blank, as he balances on a rafter, legs shaking. Beneath him, enemies swarm around a meeting hall, some laughing, some crying. All armed to the teeth.
Why now—why now of all times?!
Make up. Your mind.
‘Who do you think you are,’ he cannot say. ‘Go to hell.’
Across the country, in a non-descript hospital—Karura huffs, drenched in cold sweat. Not enough sheets to soak up the blood. Not enough doctors. Not enough time.
Make. Up. Your. Mind.
“What do you mean...”
A scream cuts across the line. He refuses to tremble. His voice betrays him. “I have... have to choose. Between my wife and my child...” If he makes one... one mistake... his body will never return to Suna. Never go back to his family. The worst betrayal.
And what they give him?
Excuses. Shit excuses.
“Just save them both!” he snaps, cutting off the communicator.
He’s made up his mind.














