"Where exactly is it?"
The moonlight bled faintly through the hazy sky, the desert wind howling with a shrill, ceaseless note.
In the heart of the Land of Wind, Sasori moved steadily into the storm. Each step pressed into sand that threatened to swallow the marks of his passing. He had been wandering the desert for days now, chasing whispers of a battle.
He had not returned here for nostalgia. He had no ties left to this place. His purpose was simple, pure: to find suitable "materials".
Every puppet began as a body. And when he heard that the clash had involved Pakura—one of Sunagakure's most notorious Kekkei Genkai users—against a mysterious, powerful shinobi, his curiosity sharpened.
Only excellent material could be crafted into perfect puppets.
Yet days of searching yielded nothing. He had carved through Sunagakure's scattered search teams, their corpses left buried under sand, but still no trace of what he sought.
"…Tch." His brow twitched. Even for him, the lack of results was irritating.
"I'll keep looking." Sasori muttered, his voice flat against the wind. "The organization has no mission for me right now. But I can't linger too long. Their Anbu are already moving."
He wasn't afraid of Anbu. A handful of watchdogs couldn't threaten him. But fleas were annoying. Having them nip endlessly at his heels was beneath him.
"It seems I'll need to create a new puppet. Something to cover my identity."
His thoughts lingered there—already envisioning the shape of a disguise—when movement caught his sharp eyes. A squad, trudging forward in formation, silhouettes shifting in the storm.
Sasori's interest flickered alive.
…
Elsewhere, a different conversation carried through the desert.
"It seems, senpai, you didn't get anything useful."
Hidezawa's tone was light, his smile audible even under the mask. He glanced at Shisui's grim expression, then at Pakura, who trudged in silence, her proud bearing dimmed.
Two days had passed since they had captured her. Shisui had poured genjutsu after genjutsu into her mind, probing, searching. But each time, the result was the same: nothing. Pakura knew nothing of the Kazekage's deeper plans.
Of course, no one had truly expected otherwise. If a village planned to betray a shinobi, they would hardly inform the sacrifice in advance. Still, the emptiness of their haul felt heavy.
"As expected." Yugao said, tilting her head. Her eyes swept from Pakura back to Hidezawa. "But next time, don't just handle things on your own. Tell us. We're teammates."
"Yes, yes, yes, senpai. I'll remember." Hidezawa replied with a mock-humbled nod, his tone disarmingly pleasant. In truth, their messy withdrawal had been tied to him.
He needed to help Kabuto. After all, Kabuto had lured his own people into Hidezawa's hands, and for now, the boy had to remain inside the village. That meant Hidezawa couldn't linger here too long either.
Besides, he had his own schemes to tend to.
'For example… making Shisui suffer a little?'
His gaze slid toward the Uchiha, who was watching Pakura intently, ensuring she didn't attempt an escape. The thought made Hidezawa's lips twitch behind the mask.
He had been turning over strategies in his mind. How best to draw the Kazekage from his fortress? How to make Kabuto's role shine brighter? The solution that kept resurfacing was simple, if risky: Shisui's Mangekyō.
At this point in time, Shisui likely already possessed it. A Mangekyō was power meant to change the course of battles. If he could be maneuvered into displaying it, perhaps it would be enough to rattle Rasa out of his office.
Of course, even the Mangekyō might not suffice on its own. That was where Pakura came in. A bargaining chip, a lure, a reason the Kazekage might come personally to negotiate.
Rasa might already be in talks with Kirigakure. Pakura was a piece on his board. For her reputation, for political advantage, he might show up in person. And in such a moment, Hidezawa could plant seeds—doubts in Pakura's heart, slanders pointing to Danzo's hand.
But now?
Now he wanted more.
If Kabuto stole intelligence directly, Pakura's suspicion could take root more firmly. Danzo's name could stretch across Sunagakure like an oppressive shadow.
'I truly am the most loyal…' Hidezawa thought with mock gravity, and then spoke aloud.
"Captain, there's something I want to discuss with you."
"Hm?"
Shisui blinked in surprise, then nodded. "Alright. Let's hear it."
He gestured forward and took the lead, leaving Yugao to guard Pakura.
They moved some distance away, enough that Pakura couldn't overhear. Shisui's curiosity showed in his eyes as he turned.
"Well? What's on your mind, Hidezawa?"
"Yes, I've been thinking." Hidezawa's voice carried a deliberate weight. He had to choose his words carefully. After all, this was about making Shisui "suffer"—and making him do it willingly.
"Senpai, how do you think we can secure the greatest benefit for the village?"
"The greatest benefit?"
Shisui perked up instantly. His loyalty to Konoha burned bright; his idealism made his eyes light with interest. "Tell me your thoughts."
"It's simple."
Hidezawa smiled beneath his mask. He knew Shisui's kind well—idealists, doves, dreaming of harmony yet tethered to duty. Their convictions were both strength and weakness.
"I can't prove it yet, but the village must decide whether it truly wants Sunagakure to survive this crisis."
Shisui frowned. "What do you mean? Sunagakure's chaos isn't good for Konoha."
"What I mean," Hidezawa sighed dramatically, "is that Sunagakure cannot be destroyed—but neither should it remain too strong. If it collapses, Iwagakure gains the upper hand. If it thrives, it may turn its eyes to Konoha again. But if it survives, weakened and dependent? Then it becomes Konoha's best ally."
"Uh…"
Shisui's face twisted in confusion. The logic was convoluted, but not wrong. After all, hadn't Sunagakure instigated the last war? And after their loss, they had allied with Konoha. An ally kept weak could remain an ally indefinitely.
"…Tell me more." His eyes shone with earnestness.
"It's not difficult." Hidezawa said, voice slow and careful. "It simply requires senpai to… exert yourself a little more."
Shisui didn't hesitate. "If it's for the village, I'll do it."
"…Perfect."
Hidezawa's smile curved slyly under the mask. If Shisui was willing, the rest would be easy.
He opened his mouth to speak further—then stopped. His gaze sharpened, drawn to the horizon.
"…Huh?"
Shisui noticed it too. His eyes followed the line of sight.
In the distance, blurred by the storm, a lone figure emerged. The gale bent around him, sand and wind seeming to hesitate in his wake.
Slow, steady steps. A presence heavy as iron.
Hidezawa's chest tightened. Huge amounts of chakra radiated from the figure—controlled, coiled, dangerous.
"…That is…"
Shisui's brows furrowed.
The figure drew closer. A black cloak spattered with red clouds rippled in the storm. Red hair whipped around a pale face.
Eyes, sharp and bright, stared with predatory stillness.
"This guy…" Hidezawa muttered, recognition dawning, "…Sasori?"
His mind raced. Puppet Master Sasori. A legend of Sunagakure turned Akatsuki member.
Then, despite the danger prickling at his spine, Hidezawa's eyes gleamed faintly with something else.
"…Wait. Sasori!"
*****
Support me on my pat reon and gain early access to my creations.
https://www.pat reon.com/RroY28 (remove the space)
You can access up to 30 advanced chapters.