It's been a while since my last update, and believe me when I say I got back to writing as soon as I could. D: Anyways, as usual, thank you to everyone who reviewed/favourited/followed this story!

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. I wish it did. loljk I do not have the capacity or the talent to appease the millions of Naruto fans around the world.

This story will not have any relation to Naruto's dream of achieving Sasuke Uchiha's return or defeating Orochimaru. This happens a little bit after the Rescue Gaara arc. In other words, kind of AU (Alternate Universe). Thought you should know.

"Tch."

Sasori narrowed his eyes at the patches of white on the ground as he walked along the hallway. That damned Deidara still hadn't learned how to pick up his messes, and it was getting annoying, especially when he detonated them by accident. (Or at least he claimed them to be accidents anyway. It seemed to only happen when Tobi stepped on them.)

There were a lot of things that the redheaded puppeteer found irritating about his Iwagakure partner, but he had to admit that Deidara had really come through when his body had been taken away by Kankuro after Sakura and Chiyo had defeated him.

They had left the core containing his soul somewhere among the rubble of the cave, which in retrospect, had been an error of judgement, because Deidara had snuck back into the site, retrieved the core and stuck it back into his original body, which he had kept safely tucked away inside a scroll in the event that he found a combination of herbs that could immortalise his youth. Of course, he hadn't actually expected to be killed by a little girl and his grandmother. He also hadn't actually expected Deidara to actually carry out what he was supposed to do, seeing how they had a difficult relationship. Sasori had completely expected the Iwa-nin to simply forego the contingency plan that Sasori himself had briefed him about once a month ever since they had become partners.

Well, props to Deidara for getting the job done.

"-ssel…name…"

Oh?

Sasori lifted his head up at the faint sound echoing down the hallway. As far as he knew, every member, save for himself, was out on a mission, and Deidara had muttered something about digging up more clay for his 'art' before disappearing at the crack of dawn. So whose voice was that?

"-ty…with a name."

It did not show on his face, but the Red Sand was curious as to who was speaking. It seemed very likely that they were chanting, or at least repeating the same phrase over and over. Had Hidan skipped a mission after all? No, his stupid religion didn't involve any chanting (Or at least according to what Sasori knew, anyway).

"…empty vessel with a name."

Sasori stopped in front of an open door that led to the kitchen.

"I am only an empty vessel with a name."

His russet eyes searched the room, and landed on a small figure rooted in front of the sink. Her back was turned to him, but it was unmistakably the Konohagakure kunoichi that Itachi was currently keeping as his prisoner. It was no wonder he hadn't recognised her voice — this was the first time he'd heard her voice so clearly. The girl never spoke a word if it wasn't Itachi nor the other captive (albeit she did so reluctantly) that was talking to her.

Still, her words intrigued him. He especially liked the part about empty vessels.

Stepping inside, his presence and chakra remained masked as he silently walked towards where she stood. As he got closer, his auburn eyebrows lifted with mild surprise at what he saw.

She was holding her hands over the metal sink. Her fingers were tightly wrapped around a kitchen knife, and crimson beads of blood trickled over her hands, and dripped down into the basin.

Well!

Her eyes were blank, and her mouth was set in a neutral line. Her face betrayed no emotion at all; it was as if she could not feel the pain from the cuts she was giving herself.

Couldn't feel any pain…

Empty vessel mantra…

Sasori immediately pieced the puzzle together.

"I am only an empty vessel with a-,"

"You're trying to void yourself of emotions, aren't you?" his voice was low, and edged with subtle interest.

If she had been surprised or startled by Sasori's sudden interruption in her, to put it loosely, meditation, she did not betray it on her face or body language. Kohaku merely looked askance at the puppet master.

"I am not required to dignify that question with a response."

"Oh, so you are. The question is, why?"

"It is none of your concern."

Pulling her gaze away from the older man, Kohaku resumed to focusing her eyes on her hands wrapped around the blade. However, she didn't speak again. Was she too self-conscious and aware of Sasori's presence to continue chanting whatever she had been repeating?

"Oh, don't mind me. Please, feel free to continue. Just pretend I'm not here."

Sasori pulled a chair from underneath the wooden table and sat down next to the girl. He looked expectantly up at Kohaku. She remained unspeaking.

"So, why exactly do you do this?"

Silence.

"Is it a Root ANBU training method?"

She continued staring at her hands.

"Itachi's told me about it. It's very interesting how your lot goes through such an extreme stage of brainwashing to rid yourselves of emotions. Very un-Konoha-like."

No answer.

"What he didn't mention was that there was a post-brainwashing regimen. Is this something you people do everyday?"

"No."

Oh? The girl had spoken. It seemed like he had struck on a nerve.

"No? So this is something only you do? What, did they tell you to do it? Is there something special about you?"

Special? Kohaku almost scoffed. She was anything but.

"Tell me something," This Akasuna no Sasori was alot more chattier than Kohaku had pegged him to be. "What is it like, that emptiness?"

Hazel-brown eyes flickered askance to look at the redhead. For a brief, fleeting moment, she was reminded of Gaara. He was a bit like the puppeteer himself — the dark auburn hair, the cool indifference, and of course, the fact that they were both Sunagakure shinobi. Well, in Sasori's case, ex-Sunagakure shinobi.

Gaara.

Her thoughts started to stray, as she began to wonder how the Kazekage was doing, and she caught herself.

No.

She tightened her grip on the blade.

Emotions were useless.

Sasori, from all his years of introverted seclusion, was surprisingly more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. He immediately picked up on Kohaku's subtle reactions to his questions, and when the kunoichi squeezed the knife with more force, he was mildly surprised.

Was she punishing herself?

As a man dedicated to his craft, and only his craft alone, Sasori could not care less about any live acquisitions the other members of Akatsuki made. They bored him, and they barely lasted long enough for him to develop any interest in them. However, this particular girl was intriguing. Here she was, openly ridding herself of emotions, and whether or not she actually could feel anything was still yet to be known to him, but the fact that she was essentially almost a perfect human puppet made his interest grow. After all, he had invested a good portion of his life attempting to be the perfect human puppet. When he thought he had finally gotten it right, he had been proven wrong, and that was when he had to return to the drawing board and start from the very beginning.

Leaving the girl alone was a mistake on Itachi's part. He was practically handing her to him on a silver platter.

"Do you know what my field of expertise is?" Sasori rested his chin against a hand, his elbow supported by the kitchen counter next to him, "It's puppetry."

"I do not see how that piece of information has any relevance to me."

"Oh, but I'm sure you do. Here you are, an almost-perfect human puppet. And here I am, a master puppeteer in pursuit of the ultimate puppet. If I believed in such frivolous things, I could say it's fate, wouldn't you?"

"I am not an almost-perfect human puppet. I am merely an empty vessel with a name."

Was she even listening to herself? "And is there a difference between the two?"

Kohaku lifted her gaze from the missing-nin, and stared straight at the wall in front of her. "A puppet is an instrument that is manipulated by someone with a soul. Emotions. What I am is an autonomous human being that does not possess a soul nor emotions," She looked down, watching the blood oozing between her fingers, "The distinction between the two is that a puppet would still be influenced by the emotions of the master, while everything I am ordered to do is unweighted, simply because I do not possess emotions."

Taken aback by the lengthy explanation that vaguely made sense to him, Sasori knew that there was some truth in her words. What had ultimately caused his defeat had been the fact that he could not give up on the one thing that puppets did not have — a heart. Was that it? The one thing that had stopped him from being the ultimate puppet had been the fact that he had left the only thing that made the difference between a human and a puppet. It had not been the body, after all, but rather what was inside it.

Still, what didn't make sense to him was the fact she was adamant that she was not a puppet. The puppeteer was entirely sure in the fact that if one were to look up the word 'puppet' in a dictionary, it would probably say something similar to what Kohaku said she was: An empty vessel with a name.

Sasori was torn out from his thoughts as Kohaku released the blade from her hands, the scarlet-stained blade clattering noisily in the sink. He watched her with a twisted sense of respect as she coolly looked at the deep gashes that lined the insides of her palms.

"So what you're saying is that Shimura Danzo possess a whole army of perfect puppets?"

"Did I not just state the dissonance between a puppet and what a proper shinobi is?"

Her words were met with complete surprise, as Sasori's eyes widened in response to them. "Is that what you call yourself? A proper shinobi?"

"A shinobi has no need for emotions."

Well, well! Sasori never would have guessed that the principle behind all of the Konoha elder's brainwashing tactics was to create the perfect shinobi, rather than human puppets that did his bidding. However, maybe the fact that he only claimed that they were meant to be perfect ninjas was what prevented the Hokage from doing anything about the barbaric training methods used in Root.

"So you actually believe everything you're told?"

"I am afraid I do not understand what your question is."

"Think about it, if shinobi really have no need for emotions, then why are all the legendary shinobi ones with emotions? Have you ever heard of a shinobi that went down in history for being powerful and emotionless?"

Kohaku's bottom lip barely twitched in response his question, and Sasori knew that she was starting to doubt herself.

"Everything that every great shinobi ever did was fuelled by one thing, and that was the fact that he had emotions. They all held beliefs of their own, and however different each and every belief was, in the end, they were all driven by emotions," The redhead narrowed his eyes slightly, "Are you sure what you are is a perfect shinobi?"

She didn't answer him, not because she didn't want to.

"Or are you so deluded that you actually don't realise that what you are is a puppet?"

It was that she couldn't.

Dum dum! Deep ruminations for Kohaku as Sasori picks that the threads that keep her emotionless self together. It was a particularly heavy chapter for me, since I was completely intent on character development this time round rather than the plot. Still, I hope you liked this! Let me know how you found it, or if you have any questions!

Luv,

Pichuzilla.