I do not own Sasori, I wish I did but I most certainly don't.

This was a spur of the moment idea I had around...oh let's say 2 a.m. so I shared it with my friend and she said post it up so I did (:

The entire one shot is in Sasori's point of view so happy reading :D

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Sasori POV:

"How sad…" Her voice entered the silence. The sudden sound, so soft and gentle that it barely passed above a whisper, seemed to catch my attention as if she had yelled. It wasn't just any sound that could be mistake for another, no. Nothing could compare to such a sound. So delicate, so soft, so fragile, so musical…

"What nonsense are you going on about?" I couldn't help but notice the irritation in my voice that covered my curiosity. Aoi raised a delicate hand towards a painting on the wall. Her fingers delicately traced over the different colors and shapes with closed eyes.

"The painting, it's so very…sad." She replied. I leaned back in my chair, studying the girl before me. Her chocolate brown hair fell from the yellow ribbon I had given to her days prior as a birthday gift. Though she was small, barely touching my chin at the most, the young girl resembled much of a child despite being 19. Aoi's eyes fluttered open to reveal the faded gray blue eyes that no longer saw anything. Furrowing my brow I stared skeptically at the youth.

"You lack your sense of sight, how could you possibly tell the details of that painting?" I asked standing and joining her to her right. A small smile pulled at her pink lips colored of a light blush.

"I may be blind but I don't need my eyes to see with my heart. It's true, I can't see the shapes of the painting nor the colors. I simply imagine what I believe is here, because my heart is telling me that the painting is sad." She explained smiling just enough for her dimples to show. I always admired her face; porcelain and appearing like a painted doll.

"Foolish girl, you speak words of nonsense. You can't see with a heart, you see with your eyes, smell with your nose, hear with your ears, and feel with your skin. A heart beats to provide oxygen through the blood in your body and is nothing more than an internal organ." I replied with a board tone. Oh how I long for the following words she'll use to correct me.

"Now Sasori," Aoi remarked closing her eyes, "Sometimes you have to look past the facts and really listen. Listen to what your heart is telling you, feel with it, breath with it, hear with it, and see with it." She explained, as if her explanation justified everything she ever did. I couldn't help but shake my head at the young blind kunoichi. Of course, even if she couldn't see, she still sensed my movements. "Alright then, if you wouldn't mind, please describe the painting to me as an artist would." Oh how the girl knew how to work me. A small smirk couldn't help but light my features.

"The painting is water marked; light and dark shades of beige color the river at the bottom of the painting, with buildings of shaded grays and beige lining the background. A single charcoal black bridge arches through the center between each building, with sky blue flowers covering either end. Two figures stand on the bridge, one with a white umbrella and the other with a red one. It's also raining." I explained rather boredly. My onyx eyes scanned the painting for any hidden meaning but, of course, I found nothing but the painting before me.

"Thank you, now listen to what I see, but this time, with my heart." Aoi smiled somewhat to herself as her eyes opened once more. "I see two women standing on the bridge, the one with the red umbrella is staring over the side of the bridge, wondering to herself where her husband is. The other women approaches, with a sorrowful frown, and announces that the women's husband died in the war that has been going on. The rain falling around the two signifies that the heavens are weeping for the widow, mourning along with her. The colorless background of beige only brings more attention to the women and the blue flowers which symbolize serenity and the calming of the women's sorrow. What I see, what I feel, is a tragic love story of a women in the rain." Aoi explained tracing her fingers over the bridge, unknowingly, towards the blue flowers. I stood silent for a moment, listening to the story once again in my thoughts.

"You can't see, yet you speak of such things like you can. I don't understand." I finally managed to speak with confusion laced in my normally dull voice. I noted Aoi was staring up at me, still unable to see me, but I felt as if she could. I wished she could.

"Sasori, I know you don't believe you have a heart. You always speak like you can't feel anything, like you're an actual lifeless puppet." She raised a hand to silence my protest as she lowered her gaze to my chest. Particularly where my heart would be. "I don't believe you haven't a heart. I know you do, and the way you react to things, the way you get fired up when Deidara blows up his clay or messes up on a mission, the way you get surprised or confused over something I say, or the simple fact you breathe…are all signs that you have a heart and emotions." She paused to raise a hand that poked out from her long white kimono sleeves that always hid them. Her hand rested over my heart. "The fact you can do all that is evidence of a heart." For some reason, the words Aoi spoke angered me. She spoke the truth, but with a smile. A smile that made me feel vulnerable, even alive. Abruptly, my hand wrapped around her wrist and my grip tightened until she gasped in pain and the smile disappeared. Already do I miss that smile.

"You talk like you know me yet you can't even see me. What you speak of is only nonsense and your imagination because I don't have a heart. Hearts are for weaklings and emotional fools that get attached to silly things that eventually hurt you. I have no such attachments and I have no heart." I hadn't meant for my words to seem so fierce or for my grip to make her whimper. Aoi dropped her head and her shoulders sagged. She looks like a broken angel. For a moment, I decided over apologizing, but quickly discarded the thought since I had no feelings to really mean it. Which is exactly what happens when you don't have a heart.

"It's so…sad…to hear you say that. I feel…my heart feels like something's squeezing it tightly, and it hurts to breathe. Why? Why does..it hurt to…hear you say that? Why can't you see…that you speak such hurtful lies?" Aoi asked lifting her head. My grip on her wrist collapsed and my eyes widened. Aoi let glass like tears slide down her face, her cheeks involuntarily tinting pink as she got worked up.

"Why are you…crying?" I asked softly.

"I'm crying for you Sasori, since you can't cry for yourself." She answered truthfully. Never once has she ever told a lie, always the truth. My eyes widened even more and I couldn't find my voice. I've never had someone cry for me before…why does it…hurt to see her look so fragile, so sad…so broken?

"Foolish girl." I closed my eyes and pulled her close, offering the only comfort I could. Timidly she wrapped her arms around my body, burying her head into my shoulder. I held her close, on arm around her back and the other holding her head gently to my body. I stared at the painting on the wall with a new emotion. For some reason, it didn't look like a regular painting anymore. In fact, all I could see now was what Aoi had described. I couldn't help but close my eyes and hold her closer, enjoying the warmth her body gave off. Though I was a puppet, with no feelings and lack of senses, I was trying to listen with my heart.

I felt with a hollowed body the warmth of the crying girl.

I breathed with working lungs that took in Aoi's lilac fragrance.

I heard with sharp hearing the beating of two hearts; not just one. Hers and mine.

When I opened my eyes, I stared down at the brunette who had pulled away slightly to stare up unseeingly at me. How beautiful she appeared and how I couldn't help but smile down at her. With a gentle lift of her chin, I dared to try and use one more hidden sense.

With one innocent kiss, I tasted what love was like.

Loving a blind angel…my secret unclaimed masterpiece.