The Bleak Adventures of Puppet Sasori
Sorry I forgot to mention that I, Sckitzo, have been working on this fic and that Insomniac has been betaing it.
Anyway I'm going to be trying to update every two to three days. School's going to be back in session soon so it might take a bit longer. I do intend on finishing this fic just because I want to see where it goes.
Also last note: This story is based on the original version of Pinocchio. Not Disney's child-friendly version. Hence it's rated T. There might be some slash fluff later; I haven't made my mind up yet since I can't write a good slash.
On to the story …
Chapter Two –
Old Lady Chiyo retreated into her cottage and fashioned the Marionette in resemblance of a life-size child.
Her steady hands chipped away at the bark, her mind delving into a tranquil trance. Chiyo could not understand what came over her as she carved little beads for eyes into the puppet. She felt, oddly enough, as if this doll could see the sweat rolling down her forehead and hear her labored breaths.
"This takes patience, my little Marionette," she instructed, pulling a fist full of red yarn to the side. Her lovely new doll will be a sight to behold. As always her creations will be the envy of all puppeteers in Konoha's region. Chiyo even prided her gift above her occupation as a poison specialist.
"To make you the most perfect of all my creations. The outcome is worth the effort. Art, my puppet, is beauty. Art is eternal. Once I depart from this world, you will remain as evidence of my existence." With that said the old puppet master remained silent, her musings lingering unspoken within the caverns of her mind.
Hours passed before she put her tools away and examined her new creation.
The new puppet held an uncanny resemblance to a child she had known and raised half a century ago. The doll's eyes were painted murky brown and its hair a fiery red. She covered the wooden frame in a black coat with red cloud designs scattering across the makeshift sky. An indented segment of wood stuck out from the Marionette's chest, puncturing a proportion of his false heart.
After glancing at her new creation for a second, Chiyo felt as if she had failed as a puppet maker. Never before had she made such an expressionless doll.
Nonetheless like any newborn mother, she cooed her novel masterpiece, her long nails raking along side of the puppet.
"What shall I call you my little Marionette? Hmm … You remind me so much of my deceased grandson whose name was Sasori. His parents had died so all he had left was I. He was a lucky little boy, met his end quick yet fatal. Sasori, yes, Sasori will do."
To her morbid fascination the doll in her hands turned its head and gazed intently into her own dark orbs - a look of accusation.
Chiyo's creased nose snarled with disgust, "What are you staring at with your ugly eyes? What can you know of me?"
No answer came.
The old puppeteer snorted, setting the little Marionette onto the tile-counter beside her precious yellow canary trapped within its iron cage. Her canary shrieked at the new creation, startling the Old Lady. "Temari?" she called out, attempting to soothe her golden-feathered pet, "What has gotten into you?"
The canary's shrill grew louder.
A laugh escaped from the Marionette's lips.
The Old Lady directed her attention at the puppet Sasori, watching its wooden mouth moving without her control. This puppet's ability to move without her jurisdiction greatly disturbed the old puppeteer.
Sasori jumped from the counter, his wooden feet producing a distinct thud. The little puppet stood up straight, brushing away any dust particles lingering on his new coat. He was interrupted from his moment's contemplation by the sound of a tapping foot belonging to Old Lady Chiyo, his maker of some sorts.
The wooden Sasori pointed his finger and poked and laughed at his grandmother.
Chiyo's brow furrowed at her doll's insolence, "Do you laugh at me my puppet?"
The mouth halted its laughter, yet the impudent little toy stuck out its tongue and cried, "I am nobody's puppet, you old cow! The great Sasori bows to no mortal! I'm going to run from you old bag, see if you can catch me with your withered legs."
Not wanting to give the old bag a head start, the laughing puppet pushed his maker to the ground and ran towards the door of the secluded cottage. His only chance of escape, the Marionette believed, remained within his grasp.
But Old Lady Chiyo would have none of that. Being pushed around by her own doll caused a ball of fury to arise within her heart, "Temari, Kankuro! Stop that little wooden devil!" She called out to her pets, trying to stand from her puppet's roughhousing.
Her canary flew out from its iron cage and an old tabby appeared from a chest of aged-toys. They blocked the sprinting puppet's path, pecking at his eyes and clawing at his feet. With desperation, Sasori knocked the pets to the cold floor and continued his pursuit towards freedom.
Tired by her grandson's apparent hatred of her, Chiyo drew up her ripened fingers to face the wooden doll.
Sasori froze a few steps from the door, his eyes, if they could, would have grown wide with surprise. He tried to move his legs but found to his dismay that his own limbs were no longer in his control. Sasori cried out, "What are you doing wrinkly old hag? Why can't I move my limbs?"
His grandmother smirked weakly, her fingers dancing to a silent tune. The doll's limbs stirred, moving in the direction of her aged stature. Sasori's face lost its look of innocent confusion and was replaced by a deeper hatred for this woman who took his life and made it her own.
"No matter what you claim Sasori, you are still a Marionette. A puppet like you will always be controlled by a puppet master. What are you doing commanding your master?"
"Let me go! You're no master to me, let off!" Sasori shouted, struggling against the old hag's rigid control. He clenched his jaw then jerked forward, causing the nearly invisible strings from Chiyo's fingertips to be severed.
Laughing at his moment of triumph, the little puppet dashed away from his grandmother. However, due to his almost perilous encounter with the old bat he took no more chances and darted out, ignoring the vials of herbs scattered all across the little cottage.
His blatant disregard would prove fatal.
Old Lady Chiyo, a village hermit like her brother, was once a master of the art of poison. Still at her old age she collected special acidic components from plants and wild life, her collection turning from a mere hobby to obsession.
The old puppeteer also owned the laziest cat this side of Konoha, the creature preferring to lie out in the sun than to catch little grey mice for dinner. Currently the tabby slept dangerously close to Sasori's route of escape.
Thus poor Sasori tripped over the tabby cat Kankuro and flew right into her poisonous collection.
Hearing the sound of shattering glass, Chiyo rushed to the toxic site near the exterior of her house. With pity she carefully picked up the drenched doll, watching as his body began to slowly deteriorate. "Oh look at what you've done to yourself you foolish little Marionette. Sasori can't you even be good for your own grandmother? The liquid in this vial is among my strongest acids. Even you faux boy will feel it tittering your wooden flesh."
The puppet groaned, his eyes bleary with pain. Oh how he cursed his great misfortune.
Chiyo's gaze grew darker as if finally seeing the mess that her grandson created, "That's what you get idiot Sasori. Now I will have to take you apart and build new pieces for your body."
And so with great agony began the miserable life of Puppet Sasori, chained to a madwoman's home with no opportunity of escape.