A/N: I rewrote this because someone told me that it sucked and that it was horrible. They were absolutely right ._. Apart from my atrocious spelling and general lack of commas, they story sucked. Big time. So now it's back, with a better plot, better adjectives and more commas :D not to mention proper paragraphs. God, what was I thinking? I need a beta reader like that reviewer...So a great big kudos to that reviewer! :D I've gone off this pairing though :/ I just don't think it would work out.

Sunlight gleamed in from vast windows in the Hokage's office, illuminating everything in bright, harsh light. Tsunade sat behind her desk, hands interlocked, and looked down at her current dilemma. One photograph was sitting on top a short stack of papers, depicting the current problem. The photograph showed a teenager, with glassy deep brown eyes and short tousled hair. His face looked slightly wooden, but the photograph had been taken far too hastily for it to show much detail.

Tsunade sighed gustily. Konoha had no current information on how it had happened, but they only knew one thing: The Red Scorpion Sasori was alive. They had come across this information quite by accident. A chunin squad had been returning home from a mission, when out of nowhere, a puppets suddenly flew out of them. No one had been expecting it, and since there had been only one jonin among them, they had gotten quite badly injured. Out of a four-man cell, all three chunins had gotten stabbed by poisoned knives, one of them had three cracked ribs. Another of them had a concussion, a fractured collar bone and several shallow scratches. The last chunin had five kunai impaled into his right leg, had his left arm broken and his hands mutilated. He had been the one to take the picture. The jonin had managed to get away relatively unharmed. She had tried to protect the rest of her team, but when she saw it was no use, she had immediately ran for the nearest ANBU patrol.

Thankfully, once they had arrived back on the scene, the attacker had vanished and her team-mates were still alive. After being transported to the hospital, Sakura had worked on the patients, extracting and finding an antidote for the very damaging poison. Sakura had found something in the poison that only strengthened Tsunade's belief that the attacker was indeed Sasori, besides the picture. Sakura had found the poison to be neuro-toxic, and laced with Death Starker Scorpion poison; a deadly combination that would kill the victims within a day.. The last time she had seen Death Starker Scorpion poison was when she had purged it from Kankuro's body. The strange thing was that this poison differed in many ways, despite its common ingredient with the last poison. It was faster-acting then the previous poison and attacked the nerves rather than the organs, so it was harder to purge.

Tsunade tapped her fingers onto her desk in a steady rhythm. If Sasori had truly been revived then it was one of the most worst case scenarios she had ever seen, depending on the fact whether he revived himself or had it been someone else. If the Akatsuki had revival techniques that would not kill the user, then why hadn't they used them on the rest of their deceased members? And if it wasn't the Akatsuki, why would they give up their life to help a killer, one of the world's most hated criminals? Or could it be that Sasori's mind control techniques still worked after he had perished, and the person being controlled had revived him? Tsunade rubbed her temples in annoyance. Too many questions and no answers.

She looked at the photograph yet again. She observed his face, yet found no cracks in the wood. Sakura had told her how she had almost punched his entire face into splinters, and no craftsman was that good at restoring puppets. Maybe it was a technique? Tsunade knew the first thing she had to do. "Shizune!" She called out.

Her assistant came running into the room, without her pet pig Tonton. She knew what Tsunade was worried about, and stood to attention. "Yes, Tsunade-sama?"

"Send a message to Suna. Use the fastest carrier bird. Cancel any other message it was going to take, if you must. Ask them what they did with Sasori's body and is it possible to restore broken puppets and make them look flawless. Ask them to reply immediately and inform them about our situation."

"Yes, Tsunade-sama." Shizune bowed and hurried out of the room to complete the given task.

When she heard the door click shut, Tsunade swivelled her chair towards the window and sighed. When will this war end?

Sakura stood in Tsunade's office, with a syringe of clear liquid. She held it out to Tsunade, along with a clip board of the solution's details. "I managed to formulate an improved antidote, shishou."

Tsunade nodded in approval at her student's diligence. She motioned for Sakura to continue.

"It works faster than the original antidote and completely flushes the poison out of the system. The last one left slight traces that would cause a build up of lactic acid. We already administrated the new antidote to the victims." She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her lab coat. Her shoulders tensed and she voiced the question she had been dreading to ask. "Is it truly Sasori, shishou?"

Tsunade's eyes hardened. "It could be possible, but we are not sure yet. We asked Suna whether they had disposed of his body, but apparently they had never even retrieved it. It had disappeared by the time they had arrived back at the cave to collect it."

"And for the wood restoration?"

"Also possible. Kankuro himself uses that technique."

Sakura's fist began clenching. "Damn it," she muttered.

Tsunade looked sympathetically her way. "Sakura, if you want protection we could-"

"No!" Sakura yelled. Her hand whipped up to her mouth, shocked at her outburst, before lowering it and also her tone. "I apologize, but no. I can look after myself. We don't even know if he's after me."

"He was seen around Konoha."

"He could be after Naruto!" Sakura said, but both of them did not believe that.

"I'm not saying you have to be escorted everywhere," Tsunade explained. "Perhaps it would be better if you didn't leave the village until more is learned or until he is caught."

"No way! I-"

Tsunade had had enough. "I'm the Hokage here! What I say goes!" Her harsh tone vanished and her eyes softened. "I understand your reluctance to stay put behind the scenes, but think of the village . What would happen to the patients in the hospital if you were to be killed?"

Sakura visually deflated, though not all the fight had gone out of her. "I understand," she said after some length. "But I still want to take missions."

Tsunade was tempted to rub her eyes but didn't. Going stir crazy was a dangerous thing for a ninja and she didn't want it to happen to Sakura. "We'll give it a week or more until you're sent out. No solo missions. And only with high-ranked jonin."

Sakura nodded in consent to the terms. She would have to; Tsunade would not let her out of the village otherwise. She gave a short bow of respect to Tsunade and left the Hokage's Tower. She was in bad need of a hot shower.

Sakura clattered to the top of the building's stairs, before she walked over to her door and shuffled her key into the lock, before letting it swing open. She put the lights on at once, having become paranoid after the recent news. She looked around with a critical, well-trained eye, making sure nothing was out of place. Once she had made sure, she entered and removed her shoes, before stepping up onto the wooden floor. She closed her door, and so closed out the world. Her shoulders slumped, and she was free to show her worry on her face.

She bean rolling a shoulder to ease out the knots in her muscles, and her feet treaded softly on the wooden panels that made up her floor. She cracked her knuckles loudly, trying to relax her fingers and began rolling her head in circles to release the tension. Flopping down onto the couch like a dying fish, Sakura mentally began preparing things she would start keeping on her at all times.

Extra kunai, seals for cutting chakra strings, a flame torch...

Sakura chuckled slightly at the image of her wielding a massive flame thrower, but decided to add bombs to her list, just in case. It was already late at night, by the time she got home. Outside was almost pitch black, only lit by street lamps dotting the street every now and then. The moon was hidden behind a sea of dark, unforgiving clouds.

An omen?

Sakura moved to her window to shut the view with thick floral-patterned curtains, when she saw a shadow pass behind the glass of her window. Edgily, she pressed forward, and squinted so that she would be able to see through the glass. Moving closer, she could vaguely make out a small shape, almost camouflaged by the obscurity of the night.

Damn badly-lighted streets!

Gripping a kunai, Sakura flung open the window-

-and found herself staring at a wooden puppet that looked just like her.

Sakura, in a fit of shock, pushed the puppet from the window ledge and watched it as it slowly tumbled down and cracked into hundreds of hundreds of splinters onto the paved ground below.

Oh god, oh god-

Sakura took a few slow, deep breathes to stop herself from vomiting. Then, on impulse, she jumped out from the window and landed swiftly onto the pavement, just narrowly missing the puppet. She tried to sense if anyone was close by, but could find no one.

After making sure she was alone, she hesitantly walked towards it. The puppet's glass eyes had rolled out of its head from the impact, they lay several feet away from it, crack and irreparable. The doll's hair was tangled with splinters of wood and some ceramic pieces. Colourless, odourless fumes emanated from the still doll. It lay face down on the pavement, still and unmoving, as if waiting for Sakura to make her move. Sakura tipped it over onto its back to look at its face. Unsurprisingly, the face was no longer there, but on the inside of the head, there was a note stuck, undamaged from the fall. It was written in elegant and flowing script, though the message was anything but elegant.

This will be you.

Just those four words, and Sakura felt ready to throw up all over again. With a swift decision, she decided, to lock up her apartment and take the doll to the Hokage. The Hokage's office would still be open at this time, so she made a beeline straight for there, holding the doll tightly in her arms, splinters and all. She ran with a sense of unreality, her vision blurring and she sometimes stumbled for no reason at all. When she arrived at Konoha's main building, she rushed towards the office, almost knocking down a special jonin in her haste. She arrived before the oak door and heard low voices discussing possibly politically dangerous things, but Sakura didn't care. She dashed in, almost in hysterics, waving the abomination that was meant to be her fate.

"Sakura! What are you doing?"

Sakura tried to calm herself down. As she tried to return her heart rate back to normal, she vaguely noted that Jiraiya was in the room. "Sasori," she gasped out, "was next to my apartment."

"What?"

Sakura placed the marionette onto the desk and waited for Tsunade and Jiraiya to examine it.

"So, we were right," Jiraiya said grimly. "Revenge is his game."

Tsunade pursed her lips and read the message Sasori had left. "Damn it." After a few moments of silent swearing, she took charge. "Jiraiya, escort Sakura to a safe house. I'll send ANBU guards to tail you two."

Jiraiya nodded, and inclined his head towards Sakura. "Shall we go Sakura-chan?"

She nodded ad turned towards the door, when she felt a hand grip her shoulder tightly. "Jiraiya-san? What are you doing?" She said turning around. His face was hard and wooden, absolutely no emotion shining in his eyes. Sakura tried to get out of his grip but found that he was clamping down too tightly for her to be able to. She turned towards Tsunade for help, but found her mentor was staring at her with the same stone-like look. "Shishou?"

Tsunade walked forwards jerkily and stood next to Jiraiya and clamped down onto Sakura's other arm. To Sakura's horror, their faces began to crack, just as Sasori's had when she had punched him in the face. Their eyes rolled to the backs of their heads until only the whites of their eyes could be seen, eyes that were now marbles. Their skin shredded and Sakura could see where all the body's natural joints turned into wooden ones.

What is going on?

Sakura felt the all too familiar feeling of nausea rise up her throat. Tsunade's and Jiraiya's mouths both opened at once, and spoke with the same smooth voice; Sasori's voice.

"Did you think you had escaped?" They said. "Did you think you were safe, you silly little girl?"

The room itself began breaking into shards, until all Sakura could see were cracks, upon cracks, upon cracks. From the fissures Sakura could see a black shadow seep through and begin forming into a larger shape.

The fumes. Genjutsu.

Sakura watched in dread as the shape formed one she was not that familiar with. Sasori. He was human, yet his skin looked just as wooden, and his eyes still looked glassy. Besides the fact that he was now human, the only thing that remained changed about him was that the irises of his eyes were pure black, though his pupils remained a deep, chocolatey brown. His lips tipped up into a victorious smirk. "You weren't careful enough, Sakura. Don't feel too bad about it though; I've been planning this for months and months. You wouldn't be able to imagine how many ways I've dreamt of killing you." His hand reached out and caressed her jaw, and made her shiver in disgust. His eyes held a lust for power, sharp in their hate for her. The hand of one of the puppets suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the throat, almost cutting off her air supply.

"How did you manage this?" she choked out.

Sasori shrugged. "Simple. As I'm sure you have noticed, the poison was a neuro-toxic one and thus attacked your nerves."

"The antidote-" her complaint was cut off by a hard slap. The noise was still ringing in her ears as Sasori continued.

"Don't interrupt me," he said. "The poison attacked your nerves while you were purging them. It is an extremely volatile poison, as you might now, and turns into vapour when it reaches body temperature. Thus, you inhaled some when you were healing them. Not enough to kill you," he looked wistful, "but enough to make you dazed enough not to notice a genjutsu. The slightest things should sicken you and it makes you less alert."

Sakura recounted the amount of times she felt like throwing up, excluding now, and remembered stumbling as she was running, albeit her being a trained ninja."Where are you taking me now?" she ground out.

Sasori looked at her slyly. "My work studio. I'll keep good the promise I made to grandmother and you the first time we met. You cost me many puppets and many hours of work. I won't forgive you for that. In fact, you'll just about help me."

"Oh yeah?" she said. She wasn't going to do anything he asked.

"You won't have an option. After all, that's what puppets are for: to allow someone else to control them, make their decisions, give them no choice...Yes, that is exactly what you'll become." He looked expectantly at her. "Yes, you don't have long now..."

Sakura struggled as hard as she could. She felt fire throb through her veins and knew that Sasori was amplifying the pain the poison should be causing her through the genjutsu. Despite that she knew it was an illusion, this information did not help her. She felt Sasori's hand rake through her hair and was unable to pull away. He gripped the back of her head roughly and thrust her head forwards so that her mouth would meet his. His tongue invaded her mouth without a second's hesitation. He mapped out her mouth with his tongue, eager to make her uncomfortable. "Think about it," he said raspily, "with you as a puppet, I'll be able to do this all I want, and what will you be able to do? Nothing." His face became jeering and scornful. He looked up, as if waiting for something. His eyes widened in conquest. Looking back at Sakura he remarked, "Everything's ready." He turned and began walking away, disintegrating into nothing. "By the way," he said, as most of his upper torso turned into iron sand and was being swept away by an imaginary wind, "this won't be painless." His face crumbled and the last things to go were his eyes, staring at her in pure loathing.

Sakura braced herself. When she felt his first blade pierce her skin, she screamed in pain.

"That's it," Sasori's voice rang about the cracked world around her. "Scream in repentance." A pause, then, "I don't think you're sorry enough. Scream! Run your throat ragged!"

Sakura felt her skin being stripped away, peeled from her body, she felt her nails being pulled off, felt her eyes and teeth being pulled out, felt herself die.

The last thing she heard, as the world faded, was Sasori's mocking laugh in her ear.

The real Tsunade and Jiraiya were frantic once a neighbour reported Sakura missing. They had heard the noise but had found nothing. They immediately went to report it, just in case. However, it was already too late. None of them would find her, not now not ever, trapped in the form Sasori gave her, staring through glass eyes that did not shine like her real ones had. If they were ever to find her, they'd find her sitting on a shelf, complacent, unworried, with a smooth face made out of pale wood, and hair that was softer than petals. She was wearing clothes she would have never worn, all lace and petticoats, and absolutely impractical. Her hands were soft and not calloused, unlike her old ones had been and Sasori visited her everyday. He stayed talking to her, about mundane things, about things he hated, but most of all, about Konoha, as if she could still her his cruel taunts about her home. But it was too late, his insults were falling on deaf ears. Dead ears. He pushed her pink locks behind her ears, whenever they fell in front of her face, and he kissed her lips tenderly, and did all the things Sakura would have hated. He desecrated her, fixed her up and started all over again, never giving her a choice. Because that was what she was now. His puppet, his little marionette, always doing as he pleased, pulled along by his strings of hate and bitter revenge.