Chapter 2: Honor Thy Parents

A few years passed, and Sasori graduated from the Academy at the unprecedented age of eight. With the proud gazes of his parents and Chiyo upon him, he took his place beside his new teammates at the graduation ceremony. Both were older than him, but were thrilled to have "the Matsumoto genius" on their team. Their jounin sensei was an older shinobi with shaggy ebony hair and several scars across his rough face.

Heading home after their first day of training as full-fledged shinobi, Sasori and his teammates observed a man walking along the street in the opposite direction. He looked sullen, and there were dark circles under his eyes as though he hadn't slept in some time. There was a heavy-looking gourd strapped across his back, and he walked in a shuffling step with his eyes downcast. As they passed him, he looked up briefly, and Sasori gasped at the hopelessness and despair that filled the man's eyes. The shock made him stop in his tracks, but his teammates grabbed his sleeves and pulled him along.

"Who was that man?" he asked them in a whisper as they turned a corner. He noticed that they were glancing back over their shoulders nervously—almost as though they were afraid of the strange man.

"That is Hamanaka Miyoshi, the Bearer of Shukaku," said one of Sasori's teammates. His name was Igaya Asana, and he was nearly four years older than Sasori. He had sandy-colored brown hair and matching eyes. He was tall for his age, and towered over Sasori and their other teammate.

"Shukaku? You mean the demon that the Nidaime Kazekage sealed many years ago?" Everyone in the Sand knew that story. A powerful demon, one of the legendary nine bijuu, had attacked the village. Many people had been killed and the village nearly demolished before the Nidaime Kazekage had managed to seal it into a young child. This had happened a long time ago, even before Chiyo was born.

Sasori's other teammate, a round-faced girl named Sanara Kagaiya, nodded. "Eventually, the child that Nidaime-sama sealed Shukaku into grew into an old man. The village elders believed that Shukaku would die when the Bearer did, but they did not want to lose Shukaku's power. The first Bearer of Shukaku had been the strongest ninja in the village, surpassing even Nidaime-sama himself. So they decided to remove Shukaku from the first Bearer and seal it into another. Miyoshi was chosen for that task, and Shukaku was sealed into him."

Sasori was puzzled. "But then…why did he look so sad? Being chosen as an important protector of the village should be an honor."

"Well," explained Asana uneasily, "the sealing technique used to contain Shukaku within a human body is imperfect. When the Bearer's mental guards are down—when he's asleep, for example—Shukaku can exert some influence over him. That's why Miyoshi has dark circles under his eyes—he's afraid to sleep too deeply because he might lose his own identity to Shukaku."

"Also," Kagaiya chimed in, "being implanted with Shukaku changes a person. They become…almost bloodthirsty. For that reason, people used to be afraid of the first Bearer, and they fear Miyoshi too. He doesn't have friends…I don't think anyone wants to be around him."

For the rest of the way home, Sasori was lost in thought. It seemed unbearably cruel to condemn a man to such a lonely life. What must it be like to have another presence in the back of your mind, constantly threatening to overwhelm your own? And what must it be like to bear that burden totally alone, without being able to turn to anyone else for help or support? That evening at dinner, Sasori asked Chiyo if what Asana and Kagaiya had told him was true.

Chiyo nodded sadly. "Yes, Sasori-kun, it is true. The Bearer of Shukaku faces a difficult life. He has made a great sacrifice for the sake of this village."

"But…why? How can the village make a person go through that?"

"Because it is necessary. Shukaku is a powerful weapon, and we cannot afford to give it up."

"But Miyoshi is a person. How can this village treat him as just a weapon?"

"Sasori-kun, all shinobi are weapons. Our purpose in life is to be tools that are used to protect the Country of Wind." Chiyo smiled, and ruffled Sasori's hair. "Please don't think about it anymore. You are young and shouldn't trouble yourself over such things."

But Sasori did trouble himself over it. The haunted look he had seen in Miyoshi's eyes still remained in his mind. Chiyo had always been such a kindly woman, acting like a second mother to him when his parents were so often absent on missions. For her to dismiss a man as just a tool of the village seemed completely unlike her. Had she always held such a ruthless way of thinking below her gentle exterior? Is she right? Are shinobi really just tools…just puppets?


In addition to training with his team, Sasori was learning how to control battle-puppets from Chiyo. He had become much more adept at using chakra strings. He was now able to guide complex movements in a puppet, such that it almost seemed to be using taijutsu. When he took his Chuunin Exam, he used a puppet that Chiyo had constructed as a gift for him for all his combat, defeating his opponents without ever using a jutsu or laying a finger on them. The Examiner declared him "a genius at unorthodox combat techniques" and recommended his promotion. The Sandaime Kazekage stated that he was "truly the descendant of the great Chiyo-baasama" and agreed. At ten years old, he was the youngest chuunin in the history of the Sand—even Chiyo had not achieved that rank until the age of twelve. He was also trying to learn how to build puppets of his own, but he had not yet succeeded at this.

Relations between Sand and the Hidden Village of Stone had been poor for a number of years, and around that time a war between the two broke out. Chiyo earned even greater renown by using her ten most powerful puppets to singlehandedly take down one of Stone's major fortresses. Sasori and his team spent most of their time patrolling the borders of the Wind Country and engaging the smaller raiding parties sent by the Earth Country into Wind territory. Sasori now had five puppets—all made by Chiyo—at his command, and used these to great effect in numerous fights. His skill was so great that at the age of twelve, he was initiated into Sand's elite ANBU force.

Returning home after one particularly difficult mission, Sasori found a small crowd gathered outside his house. "What's going on?" he asked one of the people standing around. The young woman, a jounin of the Sand's forces, turned to look at him. He knew immediately from the expression on her face that something was terribly wrong. "What's going on?" he repeated.

Kneeling down in front of him, the jounin put her hands on Sasori's shoulders. "Sasori-san…a few days ago, your parents were on a scouting mission that was ambushed by Rock forces. I'm afraid…that they were both killed."

Sasori stood stock-still for a moment, too stunned to move or speak. Of course, shinobi undertook many missions of high risk, and such events were even less unexpected in a time of war. But that did not make dealing with the reality of such a loss any easier.

"Sasori-san, I'm so sorry," Asana said, laying a hand on Sasori's shoulder.

"Is Chiyo-baasama here? I want to see her."

The jounin nodded, still looking sad. "Yes, Sasori-san, she's inside."

Sasori entered his house, with Asana and Kagaiya trailing behind him. His family was gathered in the dining room. Chiyo, his other grandparents, and his aunts and uncles sat around the table, while various other relatives stood along the walls. Slowly, Sasori walked over to Chiyo, who embraced him tightly. Sasori tried desperately not to lose his composure in front of his teammates, but eventually found himself sobbing into Chiyo's shoulder. He heard running footsteps behind him, and felt the warmth against his back as Kagaiya and Asana rushed to comfort him as well.


Later, Sasori asked to see the bodies of his parents. Kagaiya and Asana had offered to go with him, but he preferred to do this alone. An idea was already forming in his mind, and he didn't think he would be able to go through with it if anyone was there to witness it. Despite all the amazingly powerful jutsus developed by medical nins, death was still permanent. Even the great Sarutobi of the Leaf could not bring the dead back to life. But Sasori thought he might be able to do the next best thing.

Entering the morgue of Sunagakure's hospital, Sasori saw the two indistinct shapes, covered by sheets, that lay on tables in the center of the room. Pulling back the sheets, he gazed into his parents' faces. Chiyo had told him that puppets could be made not only out of wood, but also from the bodies of defeated enemies. The advantage of such a "human puppet" was that it contained the cells and DNA of the person it was made from, allowing the puppeteer to utilize jutsus unique to that person. Essentially, the human puppet acted as a medium through which the puppeteer could use jutsus he would not normally be able to perform. After placing a few seals across the door to insure that he would not be interrupted, Sasori set to work.


When Chiyo had first begun her career as a puppeteer, it had taken her many tries to craft a useful puppet. Her first few attempts had been crude, all rough edges with only a single weapon in each hand. By contrast, Sasori's first two puppets were perfect. His mother and father had been transformed into puppets that were nearly as good at fighting as their living incarnations had been. But in truth, fighting ability was not what Sasori cared about most. With this jutsu, it would be as though his parents had never died.

Standing in the center of Chiyo's living room, Sasori extruded chakra strings from each hand. He attached those from his left hand to his father and the ones from his right hand to his mother. With subtle movements of his fingers, he guided the two puppets across the room towards him. When they stood on either side of him, he made them wrap their arms around him. In his parents' embrace once more, Sasori closed his eyes and smiled contentedly.

Then the chakra strings broke.

So involved in the comfort that came from being hugged by his parents again, Sasori had neglected to concentrate on maintaining the precise chakra control in his fingers. The two puppets released their grip on Sasori and clattered unceremoniously to the floor.

These aren't my parents. My parents are dead. These are just tools, just puppets made to look like them. Pain flooded through Sasori, and he willed himself not to cry. Looking down at the two puppets that lay at his feet, he thought, Why? Why can't I be like that—no suffering, no feelings, no pain? Why must I have this human heart that aches so much?


A/N: The next couple of chapters will probably come a little more slowly, since I'm going to be pretty busy with schoolwork over the next couple of weeks. I know there hasn't been much action so far--there will be a cool battle scene in Chapter 3, I promise!