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Sasori gaped at the two teens, who regarded him silently, the silver hair teen out of pale lavender, the other, cold black. The dark haired one, Itachi, shoved his long hair out of his face, narrowing black eyes. “Deidara, come on out. Now.” Sasori felt his back arch as he saw-saw-a pale, transparent arm reach out from his chest and bend, pressing the palm against his torso. It was followed by another, and then a head with long blonde hair pulled out. All Sasori could see was the pony tail and mass of hair, but he still felt his heart skip a beat as he saw the ghost of Deidara pull himself out of Sasori. The blonde slowly floated