"It's you, Sasori of the Red Sands?!"
Disbelief filled Rasa's voice.
Sasori stood in the moonlight, an eerie smile curling his lips.
The smile was faint, yet it sent an inexplicable chill down Rasa's spine.
"Rasa, forgive me for disturbing you so late."
His voice was calm but strangely hollow, as though it hadn't come from a living person's mouth.
Rasa frowned deeply, watching him warily:
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to help you get revenge."
Rasa froze.
Then he let out a contemptuous sneer:
"Heh. You?"
Sasori paid no mind to the disdain in his voice and chuckled softly instead.
He simply raised his right hand slowly, the moonlight falling across his pale arm.
Then he reached out with his left hand and gripped his right wrist.
Click!
A faint sound rang out.
Rasa's eyes widened instantly.
Sasori detached his own right hand.
There was no blood or flesh at the joint, only cold metal and intricate mechanisms.
He held up the detached hand and waved it in the moonlight, as though displaying a work of art.
"You...!" The words caught in Rasa's throat.
Sasori reattached the hand to his wrist and rotated it a few times, checking that the connection worked properly.
Then he looked up into Rasa's shocked eyes, his smile deepening.
"Losing an arm and your legs doesn't feel good, does it, Rasa?"
Rasa's breath caught.
Sasori continued:
"I heard everything you said in the meeting room today.
Your hatred, your resentment, your... helplessness. I understand it all."
He took a step forward, the moonlight casting mottled shadows across his face:
"I've had enough of this rotten village.
A bunch of cowards hiding in the village, preaching about the bigger picture while casting aside the hatred that truly matters."
For the first time, emotion