The house was filled with the sounds of rummaging and clattering.
"I mean, do you have to be in such a rush?"
The usually empty house was rarely this busy. Logan watched, slightly pained, as Sasori moved between the basement and different rooms.
Though he appeared calm and unhurried, his efficiency was astonishing. One by one, he packed up simple tents, survival tools, and various supplies into his long cloak with remarkable ease.
Weapons were sorted, puppets of unknown purpose sealed into sealing scrolls, and a variety of mechanisms and poisons were armed and ready.
Logan maintained a composed appearance, but internally, he felt a little uneasy. If he hadn't been watching, he wouldn't have known that Hiruko's bulky body also functioned as storage.
Despite holding so much, it barely looked any different on the outside.
"Step aside."
Sasori spoke calmly, passing by Logan like the wind, without a trace of hesitation.
The Akatsuki had issued new orders through the rings. The sudden transmission, happening so close to him, gave Logan the feeling of being caught by a strict disciplinarian.
Fortunately, the new orders weren't directed at him. After Sasori received the message, to Logan's surprise, he began preparing immediately with remarkable dedication.
Then again, Logan figured this was probably just because Sasori had nothing better to do. He had recently wrapped up a phase of his puppet research, and for the past few days, after meals, the two of them had done nothing but sit around staring at each other.
Sasori found this incredibly irritating. Logan, on the other hand, watched Sasori working seriously, then glanced around the house.
Over the past few days, with an extra person living here, the place had gained a bit of life. Maybe this desolate location only felt briefly lively when someone was coming or going.
"Step aside."
"Step aside."
"Move."
"Move…"
"Get lost."
Logan stood in the middle, playing the role of an obstacle, utterly shameless and unmoving.
"Hey, you still haven't made my kunai yet."
Finally, an annoyed Sasori flung a hidden projectile at him, the blade glinting with a faint green poison.
Logan tilted his body slightly and caught it with two fingers, examining the craftsmanship before naturally slipping it into his own Ninja Tool Pouch.
These kinds of sudden attacks had become routine over the past few days, as it's mostly Sasori's attempts to drive out his unwanted houseguest. But Logan always deflected them easily. Plus, since Sasori made all these weapons himself, their quality was far superior to what was available elsewhere, which conveniently benefited Logan, who was perpetually broke.
By now, Sasori had more or less stopped throwing weapons at him. It was like those stories where fans sent knives to their idols, inadvertently helping them build a fortune.
After another brief clash, Sasori let out a cold snort and disappeared into the basement. Logan had no idea what he was tinkering with down there among all those mechanical parts, but this time, he stayed down for a long while without resurfacing.
Logan glanced at the half-open entrance to the underground workshop. The atmosphere was quiet. He understood where the boundaries lay and which lines weren't meant to be crossed, so he didn't let curiosity get the better of him. After a moment, he exhaled softly and stepped outside.
The weather was mild today, with no harsh sun or oppressive heat. The clouds above were soft and fluffy, stretching into strange shapes against the vast blue sky, giving off a lazy, distant feeling.
The small hill and the old tree, just like a frozen photograph, unchanged from the first time he had seen them until now.
Logan walked to an open space and sat on a rock. Above him, the clouds drifted, bit by bit, across the sky. In the middle of it all, he felt small, yet strangely overwhelmed by a sense of grandeur.
He could feel time passing. Beyond this desolate but peaceful little place, the world was still turning. The affairs of men continued, slowly but relentlessly, unaffected by individual will. The curtain had already been drawn.
Although Sasori hadn't mentioned anything about the mission he received from the Akatsuki, but based on the timing, Logan had no trouble figuring it out that this was undoubtedly the Sunagakure's Incident.
Sasori was heading out to capture the Ichibi's Jinchuriki, Gaara. And in the end, he would die.
Logan lowered his gaze, staring at the ground beneath his feet. A strange silence settled over him. As an observer, witnessing the beginning of an event firsthand was vastly different from seeing it unfold from an omniscient perspective.
He had seen plenty before, the cautious maneuvering of the Third Ninja World War, three years in the ANBU, the chaos of Konoha's Chunin Exams.
He should have been able to remain indifferent. But after spending these past days together, coupled with what he had known before coming here, the young boy hidden beneath Hiruko was becoming more real to him.
Logan didn't have a bad impression of Sasori. In fact, until he had a place to settle down or news about Itachi, Sasori had been a significant help.
Now, watching as this perpetually expressionless person, whose face mirrored the mask he wore, walked straight toward his own demise, Logan found it impossible to remain unaffected.
Creak.
Behind him, the wooden door opened.
Thud.
Then it closed, and the familiar, rhythmic footsteps approached.
Logan turned his head. Sasori had likely finished preparing. He was already stepping out, ready to depart.
He approached with his short frame slightly hunched, carrying no visible bags, yet fully equipped with everything he needed.
"You're basically a walking treasure chest." Logan joked, returning to his usual expression.
The stone beneath him was small and unremarkable, blending perfectly with the desolate surroundings. For once, since Logan was crouched down, Sasori actually stood taller than him. He immediately shot him a disdainful look from above, completely ignoring him as he walked past in his usual cold manner.
"Hey, you're really not going to make me that kunai? I'm open to negotiations!" Logan called after him.
Sasori's tone remained unwavering. "No. I don't want any trouble."
After days of pestering to no avail, Logan knew that Sasori's refusal was as solid as the three consecutive 'No's' he'd heard before—Not happening. Not possible. Not allowed. There was no changing his mind. At this point, he was just half-joking about it.
Sasori took a few more steps before stopping abruptly. With his back to Logan, he hesitated for a moment before saying, "I'm leaving."
"Off you go. Where to?"
"..."
"Just don't follow me."
After saying the last line, Sasori instinctively waited for a response. Normally, Logan wouldn't let things go so easily, as getting on his nerves was practically a daily routine. It was only natural to expect some infuriating remark in return.
But after a few seconds of silence, nothing came.
Sasori furrowed his brows slightly, then continued walking without looking back.
Logan watched as Sasori stepped onto the dirt road, the yellow dust swirling into small, fading circles in his wake. He hesitated.
Not much time had passed between the Akatsuki's orders and Sasori's departure, so Logan hadn't fully made up his mind yet.
He needed his special Flying Thunder God kunai. Pestering Sasori didn't weigh on his conscience at all. But following him? That was a different matter.
Ignoring the possibility of White Zetsu's surveillance or Deidara's eventual arrival, there was one major problem… Sunagakure's response.
If he went, he'd inevitably cross paths with Konoha's rescue team.
And when it came to the old Team 7, Logan always made an effort to avoid them.
The narrow dirt path twisted across the barren landscape like an uneven stitch in the earth. Sasori had already traveled a fair distance, even without using Chakra. His ordinary pace alone had put considerable distance between him and his personal hideout.
Still, there was no movement behind him...
At some point, Sasori glanced back. In the distance, he saw Logan still crouched outside the wooden house. They had both become nothing more than tiny dots in each other's vision.
'He actually gave up?'
A faint sense of relief crept in, but before he could feel entirely at ease, Sasori found himself pausing.
For some reason, it didn't feel as satisfying as he had expected.
Pressing his lips together, he turned back and continued on his way.
As for the hideout he had lived in for years? The door wasn't locked. Logan had complained plenty about its lack of renovations anyway. He could do whatever he wanted with it.
Logan frowned in thought, 'Sunagakure… the mission to rescue Gaara...'
However, something else lingered in his mind.
'During the pursuit, Naruto's group had encountered an obstacle, which is Itachi and Kisame's diversion. Even if Itachi had only used a clone through the Shapeshifting Technique…'
Sasori's figure had nearly vanished in the distance. Logan gritted his teeth and decided to take the risk to get in touch with Itachi.
He didn't have any luggage, so there was no need to go back to the house.
At worst, he'll just use Sasori's supplies.
A streak of lightning cut across the earth, flashing along the dirt road.