I had always admired shinobi; enemy or otherwise.
I was a teenager, so the life of a kunoichi was unattainable for me. My family really wasn't a shinobi type family as well. They would have never ever let me become the kunoichi I so desired to be.
But I couldn't help but wonder if things would have been different if I realized such a grand dream back then. Probably not, but at least I would have been a bit more useful to him.
I really had no contact with shinobi; so I was more than enthusiastic when one showed up at our doorstep. He said he was on a mission, and wasn't used to our snowy winter season. That he had nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep, nothing to even resemble a home or a temporary shelter.
My kind and gullible family believed him.
As soon as he settled into his room, I quickly rushed in and asked him what his name was. He told me his name was Sasori. It was a nice name, I thought, and I liked the way my mouth moved when saying it, how easily it rolled off my tongue.
After that, I began to talk to Sasori. I would ask repetitive question after repetitive question, and time would fly by like a bird. He showed me his puppets (he was quite smug about it, too) and their inner workings, and I would gasp, amazed by the life-like qualities each one had. Then I would compliment him, and ask if I can help.
Sometimes he said yes, and sometimes he said no.
Other times, we didn't even talk at all. I would just sit on a stool, and watch as he faithfully tinkered with his puppets, with pure awe and fascination. An occasional inquiry or comment would pop in here and there, but all it really was, was tranquil silence. There was a couple times though, where he caught me off guard.
"What is art to you?" I would glance over at him for a second, then blink. Sasori never really asked me any questions. It was always the other way around.
"Art," I replied, thinking for only a moment, "is something that can come in many forms. What art is to every person varies. I like art a lot, but I can't draw very well, so...I gave up."
Really, I never had much self-confidence.
A couple minutes pass by, me swinging my legs back on my stool, wondering if I've somehow offended him in one way or another. What surprised me the most was when he suddenly stopped his work and looked at me with those dusty, red, red eyes. "Is art something that lasts, or is gone within an instant?"
"It can go either way. Like I said earlier, it all depends on the person." Was my simple, lazy reply.
Sasori didn't talk to me for the rest of the day after that.
Perhaps if I had just answered differently, I would've been saved. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was Sasori's final day here, and it made me somewhat sad. I was used to friends moving away and moving back, only to move away again. A piece of sadness left every time they did.
I was standing over the crystal clear pond in our lush garden. I watched my favorite fish, koi fish, swim around in circles, as if trying to find a bigger, better pond to escape to. But they were caged.
I found myself surprised when Sasori came down from the house and sat down on the rocky ledge next to me. Really though, should anything he do surprise or shock me anymore? I've known him for about three to four months already...
Since it was Sasori's last day here, I thought I should tell him a secret. About how terribly I loathed the idea of becoming an adult, and losing my child-like, tomboyish ways. Of how I hated change and wished everything would stay the way it was, forever. And yet, of how I didn't want that because then I wouldn't be able to improve on myself as a person. I didn't notice the dark glint in his red eyes glow darker with every word that left my mouth. Or of the slight, cocky smirk he wore when he was really pleased. No, I was too oblivious to the changing mood and atmosphere, too young and innocent to understand.
When I had finished my babbling, it was only then did I notice how close he was leaning. I blinked, unable to see his true intentions. He whispers, "What if I can show you a way to remain the person you are, forever? It's a luxury I normally don't give people like you..." A eager smile spreads across my face, and I lean closer with anticipation, "Show me! Show me how I can stay the way I am forever!" The last thing I can remember was the glint of a kunai and asking myself why the water was turning red...
Owari ~ End
Do what you want, because life can only be so short.
Rather dark, I suppose. But it was Sasori, and it was a one-shot. Well, at least he wasn't too OOC. Oh, and yes. This lovely picture of Sasori was created by arriku at deviantart.com.
