[Private to Sakura]
[Sasori looks considerably worse the wear and rather grubby to boot, half-propped up on what looks like his kitchen table. The amount of mental clarity he's apparently able to maintain, considering that he currently has a knife protruding from his bare, bloody chest, is somewhat impressive.]
Sakura.
I could...use your a-assistance. Or, you can come...watch...watch me die again, if that would please you.
[He coughs, a trickle of blood making its way down his chin.]
The door's trapped. Window's faster.