When she sees him again, the village is in turmoil. Clan rivalries and previously minute disputes had given rise to hellfires of chaos and dissent. People called for blood and non-shinobi citizens were being pillaged. She wonders if he had sought her out first, at her old home, but knows better of the young man than before. Moriko stands quietly in the shadows of the Kazekage's welcoming room as the elusive redhead gives his report. Yet she is not here to listen to his droning explanations of his excursions. She did not care for his reasoning for the plundering that he had done on some land's borders, nor did she need to pay attention to the poorly fabricated slights he threw at their leader. No, her duty lies in discerning his pauses, the tilting of his head - the impossible smoothness of his left hand.
Some part of her wants to ache, to reach out to who might be her only childhood friend - but that part of her has compartmentalized itself away a long time ago with their mission in Cha no Kuni.
"You have been gone for too long," the proceedings are coming to an end. She stops her scrutinizing and turns her attention to the kage. "Many people want your blood, Sasori." You are not welcome here anymore.
Sasori stands tall, a picture of indomitable confidence. One word. It would only take one word for Moriko to act and deliver the deserter's head to her leader.
Wrong.
She knows he would not be able to see it from his vantage, but the Kazekage's back almost collapses in defeat. The action is not significant, but when one has spent days guarding the back of the leader, one tends to pick up on this minuscule details. Sasori would be safe today.
"As you may have heard and have probably seen, the village is in chaos. We have factions of clan purists and war veterans clamoring for more power. You will resume your role here, Sasori - your parents have earned much respect from me to grant you this, but I don't promise that you will not be targeted once you leave my office." Fight my battles and I will grant you peace and diplomatic protection.
Where others would have bowed at the waist, Sasori only tips his head in agreement. The Kazekage can no longer be selective in decorum and accepts his concordance as is. While the Kazekage had previously demanded order with actions and power, his years in the office have taught him that politics tended to have a larger influence on what he is and is not able to do.
"I will have someone contact you with more details." Dismissed.
Both Moriko and Sasori leave the Kazekage alone.
She gives him two minutes at most before she follows him. She doesn't pretend to be under the assurance that he hasn't noticed her. If he had not seen her in the office, he definitely knows of her following him now. As the two make a quick walk through the village center via rooftop, Moriko can only grimace at the slander painted on the walls of the buildings; different faction insignias, but still the same monsters.
She stops a meter away from him. Just a few months ago, he had left her at the border. Although, looking back on it, she only had herself to blame for being surprised by his actions. Since the Second Shinobi War, Sasori had created a reputation for himself. Ruthless and quiet, his name brought whispers to the shinobi ranks. So when their mission at Cha no Kuni revealed illegal proceedings and unethical practices that had been performed by their very own shinobi, many more clamored to have his skillset for their own uses. Nevermind her, who had been caught and bailed - Sasori was the new shinobi to have and be.
Although, it is not the abandonment that had thrown her and the whole village off. Sasori had known her predicament, to what extent, she still does not know. But Sasori knew that her father had taken part in one of the more despicable misdemeanors against the village, he knew that and knew the consequences that would have befallen on her father upon their return. But rather than offer his hand in support for what was to come, he had left her and everyone for a period of months as the village was left to heal with the news of their uncoverings. Moriko had to kill her father in repentance for his wrongdoings and many more in an attempt to prevent the sensitive information from leaking. Yet word still spread like the blood on the streets. Rumors had run and monsters were born.
With no one left to turn to, Moriko had sought solace in the Kazekage's shadows. To this day, only he and Chiyo know of the shadows that plague her.
"Did he send you to kill me?" Sasori speaks as quietly as he did back then. But where Moriko's soft words allude to her self-deprecating demeanor, Sasori's quietness hides only his impatience. "No, he couldn't have. He needs me to do his work first. Tell me, how is the old woman?" He changes the topic quickly and turns half-way to face her.
Moriko takes the invitation and sidles beside him. They resume walking together. "She is well, her and Ebizo-oji-san have moved further away from the city center to avoid the trouble."
Beside her, Sasori chuckles humorlessly. "Forced by the Kazekage, no doubt," he turns a corner and the smaller buildings give way to a familiar path. Moriko soon finds herself sitting across from Sasori in an antiquated tea shop. Wordlessly, he gives both their orders to the waitress as he stares down at her. She straightens her back just a little.
"How did the village come down this far?" he asks. The village, not our, Moriko mentally notes. She stares back at Sasori. In the dry heat of Sunagakure, he looks the same as he left her. Hazy eyes belying tumultuous thoughts, sand-colored bandages revealing days spent traveling, and false thin lips slightly parched from the dry heat.
"You know how," Moriko replies. She gratefully takes the delivered tea and cups her fingers around the hot cup. Somehow, in the presence of Sunagakure's heat, she still feels cold and seeks the warmth of her drink. Sasori doesn't taste his yet.
"I didn't mean to leave you for so long," his voice trails off as Moriko forces herself to keep her eyes down. While she has always applauded herself to be able to keep her composure, she is not an expert at it as Sasori is. On some days, she can still feel the sting of her father's chipped headband falling against her cheek. A liar he had been, but a father he was still to her. "So do you have the Kazekage's missive?"
She reaches into her holster and procures the scroll. It is set to disperse within minutes of being read and Sasori is quick to consume its contents before allowing it to fade into smoke. "You're not as unpopular as the Kazekage makes you out to be," Moriko starts as the silence pervades them. "But the older forces have their doubts and your actions have been talked about by many. You will have issues getting access to previous open doors, so -"
"I can read, Moriko," Sasori cuts off. He talks his tea and finishes it in one go. Between them is a pot still half-full. "Was it dango you enjoyed?"
"NattÅ." Moriko corrects.
He orders it for them to eat with their remaining tea. No more words are traded, but the silence suits them just the same. Moriko no longer entertains the idea that they would ever return to their previous childish guiles, but she is still human and does not forgive him for leaving her alone without a word. An afternoon haze casts its red vision upon them.
The morning after finds its lingering colors painted on its village's walls.
Leaning against the wall, Moriko silently watches as Sasori cleans his blades against the running water. Holding them against the new light, he puts them away into their respective sheathes after passing his inspection. For a while, he had never relied on carrying more than the required amount of weaponry on his person, but she supposed that their past excursion had made him become more adaptable to other forms of combat.
"That...could have been better," she finally says. No matter the lowliness of her voice, her words carried heavily through the iron-stenched air. They had been sent out to cut off the heads of the most radical factions as step one of the Kazekage's plan, but public assasination had been banned as an option. Where most sought stories and loud warnings to carry their message, he thought it better to have the factions foster fear in the shadows and silence more.
Sasori lets out a noncommittal sound as he turns to survey their work. This house being the last of their stops, the living room lay patronage to the similar works they had left scattered throughout the village; a man with a hole in his chest, a woman or two with a new scarlet necklace adorning her throat, and the blank faces of children. While Moriko had only thought to eliminate the head, Sasori's missive elaborated further. Children were seeds that grew according to their upbringing - and if blood and empty houses would be their new parents - Moriko found a small mercy in Sasori's aptitude for poisons. She follows him as he makes his way to one of the children's rooms and both of them stare at the doll left by an ostentatious playhouse.
"Let's go."
Author's note: If some haven't guessed it yet, there will be a lot of jumping around between past and present events. Hope you all liked it! It's shorter than the usual, but I couldn't prolong it without just adding excessive fluff. I'll try and keep up with an update a week, but for the most part, once everything picks up again, it will probably be an update once every two weeks as some chapters tend to be longer than others and quick revisions still take time. Like always, please refer to my author's page for update schedules and changes. I keep that the most accurate.
