Chapter 1: Whose Idea Was This?

A sigh escaped his mouth as he clicked the back button on the browser. Another bad concept made even worse by bad characterization. The concept he was talking about? Character in the real world plotlines. Honestly, you'd think these 'authors' would do a better job keeping the characters as themselves. But no, they completely butcher it for some crappy romance plot. This sucks.

Our grouchy protagonist is a 19-year-old (boy) man named Zack. His straight brown hair hung just below his eyebrows, a stark contrast to his hazel colored eyes. The teen read a lot of fanfics online and fancied himself a sort of aficionado of the genre. The anime section was where he spent the most time in, and if you looked at his internet history, you'd find a lot of anime sites. Clad in a grey shirt sporting the Deadpool logo and a pair of jeans, then teen was always showing love for at least one fandom or another.

"I swear these people are idiots that failed English class every single year."

...Or in this case, raging at the bad fics he found. You see, Zack had a strange fondness for the self insert genre, something that was a believed taboo among the fanfiction community. He could see why, but he had a knack for finding a few diamonds in the rough.

"I need food. Seeing this crap is making me get the munchies." He stood up from his chair and went to the kitchen. He rifled through the fridge for a few minutes before pulling out some leftover spaghetti and putting in a bowl. He put the rest back in the fridge before putting the bowl into the microwave and pushing start.

His thoughts drifted back to the bad story he just read. It wasn't that it was poorly written, no, that was fine. What got to him was the fact that his favorite characters were completely butchered for the sake of a poorly written romance subplot. And this one really grinded his gears. Honestly, after only two days, I doubt Itachi or Deidara develop feelings for some random no-name they're staying with just because of prolonged contact. I mean, COME ON! Ninja are not that slack in their judgement or paranoia in a place they don't know! He shook his head to clear away the thoughts. Boy this is getting to me worse than I thought.

The sound of the microwave going off broke him out of his thoughts and reminded him why he was in the kitchen. Opening the door, Zack flinched at the temperature before grabbing the hem of his shirt and using it like an improvised oven mitt to bring it to the table. He cleared off the pile of Magic cards that were in the process of becoming a deck and set the bowl down.

Okay, time to destress with some dank memes, he thought, bringing out his phone and pulling up Youtube.


The sweet sound of power metal filled the two story house as Zack rocked his head back and forth to the beat. His food long since eaten, he got bored of watching dank memes and decided to just listen to music. Currently, he was playing Pokemon Fire Red on his old DS.

Maybe once David gets here we can finally get our trade evolution pokemon done. His best friend of 3 years had promised to trade their Boldore and Gurdurr to evolve them when they started their run of Pokemon Black and White respectively. That was roughly 3 months ago, and Zack was starting to get impatient waiting for his friend to catch up on the story mode of the gen 5 game.

A sound of the doorbell brought him out of his headbanging. Moving quickly to the front of his house, he opened the door to find another young man that stood just a couple inches shorter than him with shaggy, dirty blonde hair. What would have been considered fat from a distance was actually mostly muscle underneath a black Metallica t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Sup, weeb?" the teen asked.

"Not much," Zack replied, ignoring the jab at his love of anime. "How about you, nerd?"

"Same. You build your Animar deck yet?"

"No, but I've made progress. It's currently a matter of getting the mana base right."

The larger teen shrugged. "Oh well. You ready to get Gigalith and Conkeldurr?"

Zack smirked. "Took the words right out of my mouth."

The two boys flipped open their respective DS and turned on their games.


News of Sasori's death spread quickly. Though honestly, it didn't surprise him that much. The puppet boy had been one of, if not, the weakest member due to his own body composition. It was because of his "art" that he was now lying in a crater where the extraction of the One-Tail took place successfully.

It's time for me to make my appearance, the masked man thought. Or rather, for Tobi to make an appearance. He told as much to the "Leaders" of the organization. They agreed, but told him to wait a few days, so he could be properly paired with Deidara. It was because of this that he found himself under cover of one the balconies overlooking the Hidden Rain Village. He pulled a scroll from his cloak and stared at the Kanji marking it as Top Secret.

"Lord Madara," Pein's favorite puppet called. "Is that the weapon you mentioned?"

"Indeed," the masked man replied. "Orochimaru's guards were not even aware of its disappearance before it was too late."

"What sort of weapon is it?" a female voice asked. The both of them turned toward the source, finding a woman with short, light blue hair accented by a paper flower and piercing orange eyes.

"Supposedly," the masked Uchiha explained, "it's a seal that traps the target in an alternate reality. My Sharingan has a similar ability where I can move myself to an alternate dimension or another location in general. However, if what I read is correct, this is only a one way door."

The two leaders looked passive, but the subtle twitch of the eyes spoke volumes of their amazement.

"How could Orochimaru make such a jutsu?" Konan asked.

"He didn't." That got their attention. "He, or rather, his subordinates stole it from Hozuki Castle. This was one of their methods of dealing with prisoners that were rather...problematic."

"Do we have a plan for this...jutsu, then?" Pein asked.

"We'll use one of the tailed beasts as bait, and lure the ninja chasing after us into a false sense of security. Then, when they believe they have us cornered, unleash the jutsu to trap them in another reality."

"Simple, yet effective," Pein observed. "And if this plan doesn't work?"

"If nothing else, it can be used as a burial ground for our members should they be defeated. But if this plan doesn't work, then we destroy the seal it operates on so nobody else may use it."

"How much Chakra does it take?" Konan asked.

Madara unfurled the scroll and showed its contents. "This seal, from what I've observed, is very delicate. It needs equal amounts of chakra of all five natures constantly flowing into it to maintain the entrance. If not, the entrance becomes unstable, and has a possibility of killing the suppliers. This is why it will be a last resort." He rerolled the scroll and placed it in the ginger's hand. "If nothing else, we can test it with Sasori's body after I am introduced."

The duo nodded. "Very well. We'll test it when you and Deidara retrieve his body."

The plan was officially set. There was no foreseeable problem that could happen that they weren't prepared for. Yet for some reason, Konan couldn't shake the foreboding feeling she had.


Tsunade sighed as Jiraiya finished his report. "What could they plan to do with a scroll stolen from Hozuki Castle?"

"I don't know," Jiraiya replied seriously. "But I can guess. Rumor has it that they used that scroll as a method of either exile or execution. It was for those people that were just problematic enough that their 'normal' method was considered too much. Add that to the fact they only asked for our help because Orochimaru stole the scroll himself, I can only imagine what kind of seal or jutsu they use." He chuckled bitterly. "It almost makes me curious as a seal master."

Tsunade brought out her hidden stash of sake, pouring two shots before handing one to her former teammate. "In any case, we need more information. See if the messenger is still here. We can't afford any assumptions about the contents of that scroll."

Jiraiya sipped his drink before answering. "That messenger hasn't arrived yet. That information came from my spy network. I only noticed him on my way back here. If anything, he should be here by tomorrow with a full mission request."

She nodded. "Alright. Was that all, Jiraiya?"

He shook his head. "There's been a recent epidemic of shinobi hearing strange noises during the night, only to fall unconscious seconds later. When they wake up, all they say is gibberish...or more like, they sing it."

"Why are you telling me a ghost story?" Tsunade snapped.

"Because somebody wrote down a translation of one of those ramblings. It's like they learned another language, but at the cost of most of their sanity." He flipped a piece of paper toward her. "This one seemed the most interesting, as it refers to a possible fall of authority in the Land of Iron."

She opened the paper, unsure of what to expect. Though a poem of some kind was not among the top of the things on that list.

"The Imperial Army was defeated,
Facing the 500 people of the samurai,
Surrounded and numerous,
60 to 1, the sword faces the gun.
Bushido, dignified,
It is the last position of the samurai,
Surrounded and numerous."(1)

She read through the paper twice to make sure she read it right. "Were there others that were translated?" Instead of a verbal response, three other papers appeared on here desk. "I see."

"The thing is, those are the only ones that were translated. All the others wrote their gibberish as a new code that we're still trying to figure out. This one, however," he pointed to the middle piece, "is one that's different. It's similar, but it's not the same as the others. So far, it's been the most difficult to translate."

Tsunade rubbed her forehead. "This isn't what I was thinking when I said I wanted something interesting to happen," she grumbled to herself. "Once the messenger comes in, we'll decide what course of action to take."


"HE IS THE PRINCE OF THE LAND OF FIFE!
NOBLE AND TRUE WITH A HEART OF STEEL!
NOW IT IS LOST VENGEANCE SHALL BE HIS!
ANGUS MCFIFE IS HIS NAME!"

The song blared through Zack's room, stirring him from sleep. Shutting off the alarm, he rolled out of bed and put a red bathrobe over his shirtless body before heading downstairs. The sound of talk radio got louder as he entered the kitchen, looking toward his mom.

"Morning, mother," he yawned. "Morning, Zack," the older woman replied. She was an older woman in her late 40's with strawberry blond hair that was grey at the sides. Currently, she wore a plain light blue t-shirt with a pair of worn jeans complete with a pair of grey running shoes.

"What's the plan for today?" Zack asked, going to the cupboard, fishing out a bowl and one of the many boxes of cereal. Once he got himself situated, he started eating while his mother answered him.

"I need to go to Washington Floral for some supplies, then I need to make my deliveries. Hopefully, barring any last minutes orders, we should be relatively relaxed today."

"So, in other words, you're gonna be slammed with a bunch of last minute orders," Zack deadpanned.

"It shouldn't be that bad since there aren't any major holidays coming up for another month, so I'm sure we have nothing to worry about." He shrugged before continuing to eat in silence. It was moments like this that really made him appreciate that he was on Spring Break. No school, time to sleep in, and he could hang out with his friends or screw around on the internet all he wanted. Thankfully he was a senior, so that meant he was on his last year of school.

A thought occurred to him, making him smile and jump in his seat. "I'm excited for this weekend!"

His mom looked at him. "Oh? And why's that?"

"The anime convention in Seattle that's coming up? The one David and I have been prepping to go to for the past month? The one that I've been saving money for since Halloween?"

His mom shook her head. "I got it the first time. How are you getting there?"

"David's driving to one of the bus stations and we're taking a bus to the con itself."

"How long are you planning to be gone?"

"Pretty much all day for the whole weekend. We're heading out about 7 to get food beforehand."

Shaking her head again, Zack's mom sighed. "Alright. Just don't spend all of your money on junk."

Have you never been to a gathering like this before? Junk is all there is, and what glorious junk it is!...wait that doesn't sound right.

"I say the same thing to you every time we go to the swap meet in Packwood. Yet look at how many old movies we have now?"

"I'm not the one who buys old movies, your sister is. I buy old books."

Any other talk was silenced by the sound of a loud thud outside. Zack looked out the kitchen window, but saw nothing.

"I'm hoping the neighbors didn't decide to fire a shotgun into the air again," Zack muttered, though his mother heard him.

"That didn't sound like a shotgun," she replied seriously. "Go check the backyard."

Zack nodded and headed for the sliding glass door. I really hope the neighbors didn't do something stupid again, he thought.

He saw it before he opened the door. What looked like a dead body lay in a small crater next to a few piles of smashed wood and metal. The body wore nothing but a pair of pants and sandals, and had a hole on the left side of his chest. The details that really stuck out, however, were the red mop of hair on the body's head and the pulsing, white core with a single kanji symbol on it resting a few feet away.

After putting on a large pair of slip-on shoes, Zack made his way outside to the body. He knelt down and put his fingers to the base of the jaw, trying to feel for a pulse. To his surprise, the body seemed to be made of a very sturdy, very smooth wood. The eyes on the...puppet, for lack of a better term, were wide open and an odd mix of grey and brown. He turned his gaze to the pulsing core and crawled over to it, picking it up.

"I somehow doubt you're something to be messed with. Though, considering the mess you came with, somebody's gonna either clean up or answer to my mom." He shuddered. "And believe me, you don't want to mess with her when it comes to her yard." He then looked back to the aforementioned mess of parts. What looked to be a mess of wood and metal also had some leather glued to certain pieces of wood, practically melted together. "I can only imagine what these must have looked like before. It's like the leather was put on the wood with the most powerful of ultimate superglues."

The core in his hands seemed to vibrate at the praise before releasing an unnoticeable glow that stretched over to a piece of scrap metal. It was the sound of the metal rustling in the pile that caught the young adult's attention. What he saw was a seemingly floating piece of metal waving in the air for a few seconds before plunging half an inch into the ground. It began carving up the yard in a pattern he recognized as a mix of kanji and hiragana.

"Am I being haunted by a Japanese ghost?" He asked himself before looking at the core again. "No…" He looked at the puppet again, then back to the core. He then had an idea. A very, awful idea. A very awful, very stupid idea. One that he figured would be best put into motion with a set of precautions. "I'm gonna bring you inside. My mom is not gonna believe this."

He had just made it to the back door when it opened, revealing his mother looking out cautiously. "Well, what's the damage?" she asked.

"Aside from a new crater in between the patio and junk shed, there's a few piles of junk in the crater and in the middle of it is a wooden, life size puppet of some kind. I think this is supposed to be a prop representing its heart, if the conveniently shaped hole in the chest is any indicator. Think I can leave this with you while I it?" He didn't wait for an answer as he handed the core to his mom and went back outside.

"I swear that kid gives me such a migraine," she sighed, making the core pulse in agreement.


With a promise to not mess up the house, Zack's mother left to get her flowers while the boy himself went to work dealing with the puppet. How did he do this? By duct taping it to a chair. When he was sure it was secure, he grabbed the core and, after a bit of hesitation, pushed it into the circular hole in the chest.

The effect was almost immediate. The eyes blinked, looking more alive while the rest of the body rattled mutely, like trying to stretch sore muscles.

"So I was right," Zack muttered with a frown. "You really are him."

The puppet's eyes looked to the boy. "And just what made you doubt my identity?" the smooth voice of the puppet asked curiously with a smirk.

"The fact that you're, one, supposed to be fictional, and two, supposed to be dead," Zack replied.

"And just who exactly do you think I am?"

"You're Sasori of the Red Sand. Former ninja of the Hidden Sand Village, and grandson of Lady Chiyo."

Sasori chuckled. "You seem to have done your research, boy."

"Please," Zack scoffed. "All I did was read a few books."

Sasori's face turned emotionless. "Then you know precisely what I can do? What I am?"

"An S-rank mercenary ninja part of an organization called the Akatsuki? A guy who basically turned himself into a puppet because the world is so cruel and art is eternal? Yeah, short version of that, you're an edgelord."

"And just what is your view on art?"

How did I know that question was coming? "It has many forms. But that's not what matters."

"Then what does?"

"The impression it makes. That's what makes something art. It can be anything, a song, a poem, a game, a picture, and yes, even an explosion. But they all have one thing in common; the impression they leave, and that is something that never goes away."

Sasori hummed in thought before shaking his head. "Why have you tied me up?"

Zack rose an eyebrow. "Did you think I was gonna let guy as well known as you walking around free when I just found you not even an hour ago? I know how most ninja are. They are the ones who kill the first opportunity they get, which is why I have you duct taped to a chair."

"Then why did you put my core back in my body?"

Zack's face went back to being neutral. "I wanted answers. For example, how did you get here?" Sasori didn't answer. "If you don't want to cooperate, I could just slice off a piece of your core until you slowly bleed out."

"I don't think your mother would like that very much."

Zack chuckled. "Who knew the doll had a sense of humor. Fine, if death threats won't work, let's go for the good ol' torture method then."

"And just what might that be?" Sasori asked, only to feel a twinge of fear at the smile the boy gave.

"Tell me, have you ever heard of metalcore?"


1: I put the lyrics through google translate...It's the lyrics for Shiroyama by Sabaton.

A/N: This is another cliche I've seen that I felt the need to try myself. I'll be trying to keep the characters as themselves for the most part and no, there won't be any pairings for this story. Maybe some hints here or there, but nothing really concrete.