Sasori blinked as a blinding field of white appeared before his eyes.
'Where am I?' he thought as he tried moving his head to look to the side. However, the white continued in all directions. At one point he thought he had seen a flash of red at one point, but it disappeared before he could focus in on it.
He started moving through the white, although not with his legs. He wasn't sure how he was moving exactly or why he had any kind of sense of space, but he was moving forwards.
He couldn't remember his name or how he had gotten to this place. He was sure that he had been doing something important though. Or at least it was something that should definitely be memorable. Monumental? Sasori shook his head as he tried to put his thoughts into order. He wasn't supposed to be here. This was the only thing that he felt sure of.
After what felt like hours of wading through the stinging white light, Sasori felt the dregs of impatience beginning to stir inside of him. This was something that felt familiar. This irritating feeling that lit a slow burning deep in his guts. Sasori latched onto this feeling and forced himself to rush through the space ahead of him.
Finally, something yielded. Sasori blinked his eyes and he was startled to find that he could actually feel his eyes and the weight of his eyelids on top of them. He looked down and he saw the flesh of his hand. When he squeezed that hand into a fist, he felt pressure and his nails scraping the soft skin of his palm. He felt a delirious pleasure when his feet suddenly felt the solidity of ground beneath them. His lungs sucked in a shock of cold air and Sasori choked on it when everything that he had forgotten came flooding back into his memory.
'I shouldn't be feeling any of this!' Sasori thought frantically. He moved his newly discovered hands through the white that still surrounded him. 'What happened?'
Sasori had shed his mortal body long ago and he had grown accustomed to the numbness that having a puppet body had given him. The only thing that had served as a reminder for his time as a human was the steady beating of his heart. However, now it seemed as if he had recovered all of his human functions. Sasori could feel the irritation in him rising and as the white before him began to fade, he held on to the sensation even harder.
Suddenly, it felt as if something had smacked him upside the head and the white that had been so overwhelming had been suddenly replaced by an overwhelming black.
When he felt consciousness return to him, his face was pressed into a ground made of loose dirt. He groaned as he felt all the nerves in his body flare in pain. Sasori slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows, trying to grow accustomed to the heaviness that was once again a part of his body. He shook as he attempted to settle his body weight onto his knees. The action failed while in progress and he slammed back into the dirt. He huffed in frustration as the grains of dirt dug themselves into his cheek.
Sasori tried a different route and began to use his hands to grip at the fabric that was clothing him. The texture was unfamiliar to him and the shape of it was similar to the yukata he had worn years ago during hot summer days.
Sasori managed to turn his head to the side and open his eyes fully. There was a blur of green and brown before his eyes managed to focus on their surroundings. It seemed as if he was lying on a dirt path in some sort of forest. His first thought was that he was in Konoha, but the trees weren't any that he recognized as being native to their many forests.
"Where am I?" Sasori wondered, his voice raspy from disuse as he picked up his head and slowly inched his body upwards. Mindful this time of his newfound weakness. He finally managed to pull himself up onto his knees, but he quickly fell backwards. His backside was planted on the ground, but his legs were still folded at the knees at his sides.
Sasori groaned again as he rubbed the dirt from his cheeks and he looked down at the robe that he was wearing. The fabric was a pristine white, despite the fact that he had been flopping around on the ground for some time now, and Sasori felt his brow twitch.
"Does being dead mean that you have to be surrounded by the color white?" Sasori wondered aloud, his voice still sounding like it belonged to his Hiruko puppet, even though he was obviously in his younger body.
Sasori plucked at the fabric, realized that he was wearing nothing underneath, and figured that he could do worse. Like showing up in the middle of nowhere with nothing on rather than with a flimsy white yukata, so he supposed that he could be grateful for that.
After some time, when Sasori's patience had used itself up again, he decided that he had recovered enough to get up onto his feet. The amount of effort and time that he had to put into hauling himself up onto his feet was ridiculous for a shinobi of his caliber, but Sasori figured that under the circumstances he could be excused for his lapse in coordination.
He managed to stumble his way towards the side of the road and he leant against one of the trees. He found that he had to sit once more and he cursed his body.
'This is why I got rid of it in the first place,' Sasori thought as he lowered himself down onto the soft grass, his back supported by the rough bark of the tree.
Sasori looked around at the landscape once more, looking for any signs of civilization. When nothing caught his eye, he huffed and thought for a bit. It seemed that he would simply have to pick a direction to travel in once his new fleshy body felt up to it, he felt another flash of annoyance pierce his stomach, and come up with some sort of plan from there.
Nearby, Sasori found a sturdy looking stick, long enough to be a walking stick, and used to it to pull himself back up. He winced when he felt his stomach cramp in something else other than annoyance. It seemed that he would also have to get some food for himself while he was at it.
