A/N: Naruto and all affiliated characters do not belong to me.
Once upon a time, I really enjoyed Naruto. That time is now past. Here's a remnant of that era for one of my favorite ships, Sasoko. Srsly, there's not enough of it out there.
She was strange. She was beautiful. They were the same.
Trouble had always been his specialty, and when he smelled the whiff of rebellion coming on a damp wind from the land of rain, he followed his predestined trail: straight to the heart of the chaos.
And he was rewarded with a purpose. The small, silent woman and her "god". It was not a willing enslavement, but he still submitted. All because of a pair of pale golden eyes and a whisper of human origami.
They mirrored each other – blue to red, gold to brown, wooden man to paper woman. The threads of light and sound out of hearing that bound them to their art were symmetrical. And what was the difference? His hot anger, her cold calm. They could fit together like pieces in a cosmic puzzle.
But she was mortal, and art is immortal. Or... was she? (No, surely not, not in her slow death of rain.)
He was the third person to join their group, one of the founders. Came along were Itachi, Kakuzu, the snake and Kisame, not long after. They were the "originals". The future of the world was placed upon the shoulders of … them. Him and her. The furious, the fuming, the deadly. The calm, the soothing, the healing.
They really were a perfect match.
If only she could become like him.
"I could do it." And he could. But how could he do it?
"You could do what?" Orochimaru's voice was calm and deceptive.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
The snake tilted its head at him and smiled cheerfully at him. "You said something." Seeing the look on his wooden face, he added, "You weren't talking to me."
"Damn straight. Go away."
But he didn't go away.
And when they were among the rainclouds, he found them talking. Anger burst forth from a well he hadn't known existed, and he lashed out at the pale man. A flock of paper birds flurried away, confused; snakes rushed up through the concrete and reached to twine around him. Chakra sprang from his fingertips and he contorted them away from him.
"I've been meaning to leave for a long time." The snake stepped out from behind a pillar and stared ruefully at the ceiling. The paper birds still fluttered uncertainly near the ceiling. "I do wish you would join me, dear."
Don't talk to her! - the words sprang to his mind, but he couldn't remember how to speak, suddenly. Someone ran into the door on the other side of the room, crashing through: a tumble of black and red cloaks, pale skin and dark hair. Itachi threw the taller man away – Orochimaru – the clone, or the man? - a sickening tear of bone and flesh -
"Yes," he said, smiling. Still. "Konan-chan, you must come visit sometime."
Blood was flowing out, staining the floor, one arm clasped in his hand. A burst of smoke, and he was gone. The snakes' summoning spells released.
If he had lungs, he would have sighed. Instead, he turned his face up to see the paper making a swift descent, reforming into the girl.
The silly, flimsy paper girl.
She turned to Itachi first – why? - and asked if he was okay.
Of course he was okay. What about me?
At Itachi's curt nod, she turned to him. She was saying something, but all he could see were her sweet eyes taking him in, the glowing moon of her face, shrouded in the darkness of her hair...
"Fine."
Always fine, always okay.
She was dissolving again, evaporating into the air before his eyes. He almost told her to stop, put his hand out, begged at her knees to not leave, but there wasn't time. Never time.
"I could do it..." he said to her.
Never time for these mortals...