Chapter 4: Akasuna no Sasori

The jounins in charge of Sand's ninja forces had exempted Sasori and his sensei from active duty for several weeks following the mission to Cloud. Partly, this was out of respect for the trauma they had suffered, and partly so that arrangements could be made for Sasori and his sensei to join another team. Sasori was grateful for this, because it gave him time to get used to his new body.

Sasori had disposed of his organic body so thoroughly that no trace would ever be found. All that remained of it was the heart, encased in a small cylinder and placed in a hollow he had carved in the chest of the puppet body. This one biological piece was necessary to contain his chakra and bind his mind and soul into the puppet. On the outside of the cylinder that enclosed his heart he had painted the kanji for his name. He told no one of what he had done, knowing that most would disapprove. Of course, they noticed that his stamina and endurance had increased greatly, but believed it was due to a combination of inborn genius and arduous training. The long-sleeved shirts and long pants that Sasori wore concealed the obvious joints on the puppet's arms and legs, as well as the improvements that Sasori had made to it. Beyond that, he had made the puppet so lifelike that its artificial nature was not apparent to observers. It was, he reflected, the greatest work of art he had ever created—a work of art so perfect that it could not be distinguished from flesh and blood.

Aided by his invulnerable new body, Sasori rose quickly through the Sand's ranks. Two years after the death of his teammates, Sasori was promoted to jounin rank. At fifteen, Sasori was younger than any previous jounin in the Sand's history. His three students were awed to be instructed by such a prodigy, and Chiyo professed her pride in him at every opportunity. His own former sensei, normally a reserved and unemotional man, smiled broadly at Sasori's promotion ceremony, happy to accept his most talented pupil as an equal.

Over the next year, Sasori lived an ordinary life for a shinobi. He taught his students, completed missions, defended his home village, attacked the Sand's enemies, and earned even greater renown. His collection of puppets swelled to over 50 in number, and his name became known throughout the five great shinobi countries. People said that he was equal to the Legendary Sannin of Konoha, and there were whispers that he might be chosen as the Yondaime Kazekage when Sandaime eventually retired. Through it all, no one—not even his own students—knew that Sasori was, for all intents and purposes, no longer human.

Until the day when Sasori discovered the truth about his parents' deaths.


Sasori was heading home from the training grounds, having spent most of the day teaching his genin students new jutsus. An ordinary person would have been tired and sore from sparring with three energetic, if inexperienced, youngsters. But Sasori was no longer an ordinary person anymore. It was a warm, clear night, and Sasori decided to find a place outside to sit and work on training schedules for his students. One of the local restaurants had a roof garden where customers could sit out under the stars and among the greenery. Having been shown to a seat at the corner of the roof, Sasori ordered a drink and took out the notes he had taken earlier on his students' progress. He would not consume the drink he had ordered, of course. He no longer had any need for food or drink. But it was only polite to order something if he was going to take up a seat. When the waiter had left, he could pour the drink into the potted plant next to his table.

Sasori spread out his notes over the table and divided them into three piles, one for each student. He was reading through the notes in Baki's pile when a conversation going on at the table on the other side of the potted plant caught his ear.

"How is your cousin's training going?"

"Oh, she's doing well. She has the best sensei in the village, after all."

"Matsumoto Sasori, right?"

"Yep. The puppetmaster genius himself. She's thrilled—she's hoping to learn puppet jutsu herself."

"Really? It seems like a very difficult fighting style to master."

"It is, but she'll be learning from the best—or close to it, anyway. I suppose Chiyo-baasama might still be better than Sasori at it, since she's been doing it longer."

"He learned puppetry from her, didn't he?"

"Yes—that's probably why he's so good at it."

"They seem very close."

"Well, yes, I suppose they would be. She did raise him after his parents were killed, after all."

"That was so terrible. I remember hearing about it…such a great sacrifice they made."

"I know…Being sent out on that mission, knowing they were walking into an ambush…"

"It was a trap to catch the Rock forces, right?"

"Yes. They were staying well hidden, camouflaged in the rock itself…you know that technique they have that lets them merge into rock? Well, anyway, they were practically undetectable. We knew they had people camped in that pass, waiting to attack anyone who came through, but there was no way to know how many or what their capabilities were. So the Matsumotos were sent into the pass, supposedly on a scouting mission. Their real job, of course, was to draw the Rock ninjas out of hiding, into the open. Once we were able to see the Rock shinobi, it was easy to take them down…but the Matsumotos…well, they had no chance, really. In the end, we won, but…it was so horrible to have to pay that price for the victory…"

From that one part of him that was still human, emotions welled up in Sasori's mind. Remembered grief, and a burning fury more intense than anything he had ever felt before. His hand clenched into a fist so tight that the glass of sake he was holding shattered. He had always believed that his parents' deaths, while tragic, had been noble—they had been attacked by enemy forces, and had fought to the last breath for their lives and the lives of their companions. But it had not been like that at all. They had been sent into that ambush like cannon fodder. Their superiors had sent them to their deaths as though they were pawns on a chessboard instead of human beings with families and friends who would mourn them. The Sandaime Kazekage had been the commander of that mission. The hero of the village, the most noble and powerful ninja in the Sand's history, the legendary wielder of the Iron Sand…he had killed Sasori's parents as surely as if he had cut their throats with a kunai. And even worse was the fact that no one had ever told him. No one had ever told him that his parents had been sacrificed as though their lives didn't matter. Hell, those two people at the other table were talking about it matter-of-factly, as though there was nothing wrong with it. Even when his sorrow had driven him to give up his humanity, Sasori had always believed in the righteousness and nobility of the Sand's ninja creed. He had idolized Chiyo and admired Sandaime. Tragedies happened in the life of a shinobi, but they were perpetrated by outsiders, enemies from other villages who tried to invade or attack the Sand. Yet now it seemed that one of the greatest tragedies in his life, this act of evil, had been carried out not by foreign enemies—not by missing-nins or shinobi from Leaf or Rock or Mist—but by his own people.

I've fought for these people, bled for them, risked my life for them. People like Asana-san and Kagaiya-chan sacrificed their lives for them. All the time, we believed that these people were worthy of those sacrifices, worthy of our efforts and our lives. I always believed that. I risked my life for them, thinking that they would have done the same for me if our positions had been reversed. But they've betrayed me in the worst way possible—and they never even had the guts to tell me so. I've endured so much, because Sandaime-sama told me it was necessary, that my blood and sweat and tears were needed to protect the village. And I trusted him, because he was the Sandaime Kazekage—the beloved leader and protector of our village. But he sent my parents to die—and none of these people that I've bled and fought for ever bothered to tell me. Well, fuck them all—I'm done with them!

Sasori got up from his seat so quickly that his chair fell over backwards and crashed to the floor. He strode out of the restaurant, down the street, and into his laboratory. He had been making improvements to Karasu, Sanshouuo, and Kuroari, and they lay disassembled and scattered around the room. Not wanting to take the time to put them back together, Sasori left them where they were. He gathered up the rest of his scrolls—except for those which contained the puppets he had made of his parents. He had not touched those since that time long ago when they had fallen to the floor on either side of him and he had realized that they were really dead. He tossed the rest of the scrolls into a backpack, along with a generous assortment of kunais, shuriken, and vials of poison. He went upstairs to his bedroom and threw a few sets of clothes and his wallet into the backpack on top of the scrolls. He left the door ajar when he exited the building—he didn't intend to ever come back. He just had one stop to make before he left Sunagakure forever. The Sandaime Kazekage apparently believed that shinobi should be mindless puppets that moved the way they were told to, fought when they were told to, and died when they were told to. Well, that was just fine—he could try being a puppet and see how he liked it.


Sasori scaled the wall of the Kazekage's residence and slipped in through a window unnoticed. Despite the late hour, the Kazekage was training in his private dojo. Standing at one end of the large, high-ceilinged room, he caused a pile of sand on the floor to rise up into the air. Unlike ordinary sand, this particular sand was a dull grayish-black color—the hallmark of the Iron Sand that was the Kazekage's specialty. Slowly, the blobs of sand formed into sharp, needle-like shapes. The Kazekage gestured, and the sand needles flew through the air, impaling several dummies that stood in a line at the other end of the dojo.

Sasori knew that the Kazekage's ability to manipulate magnetic fields could be dangerous to him. Many of his puppets had metal weapons, and the blades on his back and the cable in his stomach contained metal. He would have to find some way to neutralize the Iron Sand technique. Closing his eyes, he molded his chakra carefully to surround the metal parts of his body. The shields lay tight against the metal surfaces, forming a barrier between them and any outside influences like the Kazekage's jutsu. It required incredibly precise chakra control to do this—if he hadn't spent years making chakra strings, he probably wouldn't have managed it.

The Kazekage clearly detected the telltale signs of someone molding chakra, because he turned towards the shadowy corner where Sasori stood. "Hello, Sasori-san," he said, apparently unconcerned by Sasori's unannounced entrance.

Sasori didn't feel like beating around the bush. "Why?"

The Kazekage cocked his head to one side, shooting Sasori a puzzled look. "Why what?"

"Why did you send my parents to die? And why did you never tell me you did it?"

An expression that might have been regret crossed the Kazekage's face. "It was the only way to make the Rock nins reveal themselves so that we could destroy them. And…I suppose I didn't tell you because I thought it would only add to your pain. Losing both your parents, and later your teammates, must have been hard—I didn't want to make you suffer even more."

"Why them? Why couldn't you have sent a couple of Kage Bunshins, or a summoned animal?" The sorrow he saw on the Kazekage's face didn't lessen the rage that threatened to overwhelm Sasori's normal cool demeanor. On the contrary, it made him even angrier. What right did the Kazekage have to act as though he was the one suffering?

The Kazekage shook his head. "Believe me, I considered those options. But the Rock shinobi would have seen through clones, and they wouldn't have revealed themselves for a scout animal. They had to believe that they had already been discovered. Sasori-san, I know it must be hard for you to hear this, but this is the way of the ninja. An individual life is subordinate to the well-being of the village and country as a whole. Each ninja is a tool that forms one part of the impenetrable defense of the Sand."

"Just tools? Is that what you really believe? That an individual life has no worth on its own, but only as part of the whole?" Another thought struck him. "Does Chiyo know what you did? Does she know that you sacrificed her son and daughter-in-law as though their lives meant nothing?"

The Kazekage actually looked unnerved, as though he knew Sasori would not like the answer he was about to give. "Chiyo-baasama understands the way of the ninja. Although she mourned for your parents, she knew that their sacrifice was necessary."

That was not what Sasori had expected to hear. That Chiyo not only knew about what the Kazekage had done, but condoned it, was unthinkable. Dear gods above! For all this time, I've been trying to rid myself of the human emotions that caused me so much pain. I've even altered my body for that cause. But her heart is even colder than mine! After learning of the Kazekage's betrayal, Chiyo had been the only person for whom Sasori had any respect left. Surely she was ignorant of what he had done, or if she knew, was outraged. But she had been just as complicit in it as anyone else. Not a single person in the Sand—not a single damn one of them, not even his own grandmother—was worthy of his protection or emotion. If no one's lives meant anything to them, why should theirs mean anything to him?

Without a word, Sasori formed a thin blade of chakra around one hand and cut through the front of the maroon shirt he wore, then shrugged it off. As it fell away, the Kazekage gasped at the obviously inhuman body that lay beneath. "Sasori-san…you…"

Flexing the blade-wings on his back, Sasori allowed the cable in his stomach to uncoil, then made it shoot out towards the Kazekage. The older shinobi formed a quick seal progression with his hands, intending to use his magnetic abilities to deflect it or turn it back against Sasori. His eyes widened in surprise when the bladed cable continued on its course towards him, and he dodged at the last moment. With a casual gesture, he flung the iron sand needles lodged in the dummies towards Sasori. Sasori raised a hand to protect his single vulnerable point, and the needles bounced harmlessly off his hardened body.

The Kazekage held one arm extended out in front of himself, his hand curled loosely as though he was holding something. "Desert Coffin!" he declared as he closed his hand into a fist, and Sasori saw the iron sand needles dissolve into an amorphous mass that began curling around his legs. Pointing his palms downward, he released jets of flame from the pipes in his hands, melting the sand into glass. The brittle tendrils of glass broke easily when he kicked them, freeing his legs. With a flick of his own fingers, he attached chakra strings to the wooden practice swords lining the walls of the dojo and sent them whipping towards the Kazekage. As expected, the man dodged all of them—but he failed to notice the coil of cable behind him, and placed his left foot neatly inside the loop. Sasori smiled slightly as he tightened the cable around the Kazekage's ankle, and pulled the man directly towards the deadly blade-wings that rotated on his back. At the last moment, the Kazekage raised a shield of iron sand between himself and the blades. Sparks flew as the two surfaces ground against each other.

Flinging the Kazekage away, Sasori pulled out a scroll and summoned one of his newer puppets. Unlike most of the others, this one had no metal parts and used wooden senbon needles for weapons. "Hidden Rain Secret Technique: Destructive Torrent!" Sasori exclaimed, and panels slid away from the puppet's chest, revealing hundreds upon hundreds of needles housed within. Spinning in a circle, the puppet fired needles in all directions. They did no more harm to Sasori than to scratch the outer coating of shellac on his body, but in the enclosed room, the Kazekage could not escape them. Once again he raised a shield of iron sand, but Sasori had attached chakra strings to a few of the needles, and guided them around the shield as it rose. A slight hiss from behind the shield indicated that at least one of them had hit. Sasori waited, leaning back idly against the wall, knowing that the battle was effectively over.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, the shield collapsed to the floor, revealing the Kazekage kneeling behind it. "What…I feel dizzy…I can't mold chakra…"

Sasori smirked. "Of course. You've been poisoned."

"Poisoned…?"

"All of those needles were coated with poison. I made it myself, and I assure you it is quite effective. If I leave you here, you will die in three days."

"In that time…our medical ninjas could make an antidote…"

"Perhaps…if I intended to leave you here. I don't."

"Sasori…if you kill the Kazekage…you will be killed or exiled…"

"No one in this village could kill me, and I intend to leave the Sand anyway." Walking over to the Kazekage, Sasori wrapped chakra strings around the man's neck. "If you really believe that each individual life is subordinate to the whole, you should not object so much. After all…one life in revenge for two is fair." Jerking his hand back, Sasori viciously tightened the chakra strings. The Kazekage pulled out a kunai and struck Sasori's leg with it, which had absolutely no effect. More out of annoyance than anything else, Sasori kicked the kunai away, breaking the Kazekage's hand in the process. When the Kazekage fell limp at his feet, Sasori sealed his body into a scroll, returned the needle-puppet to its scroll, and left the building through the same window that he had come in by.


Out in the desert, Sasori made the initial preparations necessary to turn the Kazekage's body into a human puppet: he removed the internal organs, drained the blood from the veins, and treated the corpse so it would not rot. Then he sealed it back into its scroll, and continued on his way towards the border of the Wind Country. Around him, the sand shone red in the light of the rising sun.


A/N: Whew, that was the longest chapter yet! Next up: Sasori joins the Akatsuki.