While the "Make-Out Paradise" project was being postponed on one side, a major event was quietly unfolding in the Land of Wind.
At sunset, Rasa and Karura had just returned from a mission. Amid the cheers of Suna shinobi, they walked back into Sunagakure. Rasa greeted the villagers warmly, but the lively crowd suddenly fell silent.
A voice came from behind:
"Lord Sasori, you're here."
The red-haired boy cast a glance at the kunoichi who had spoken, then, without replying, silently lifted his feet and walked away. He was merely passing through—he had no intention of exchanging pleasantries with these people.
When Rasa spotted Sasori in the distance, his pupils shrank. For a brief instant, a flash of disgust crossed his eyes—so fleeting that even Karura, standing beside him, failed to notice.
In truth, Rasa held Sasori in contempt. To him, Sasori was nothing more than a gloomy, arrogant madman. He didn't talk to people, never accepted anyone's goodwill, and spent his days holed up with his puppets. Aside from his strength, he was worthless.
Rasa had even heard rumors that Sasori had once transformed his own best friend, Komushi, into a puppet. That made Rasa despise him all the more. Anyone who could turn a friend into a puppet was a lunatic through and through.
And there was another matter that Rasa could never let go: he knew Sasori had once attempted to assassinate his teacher, none other than the Third Kazekage, Ryūnosuke.
Although Ryūnosuke-sensei had forgiven Sasori, Rasa always believed the boy was extremely dangerous—keeping someone like that in the village was like living next to a ticking time bomb.
Yet this "time bomb" happened to possess frightening talent as a puppeteer. Though only thirteen years old, his strength was already jōnin-class. His advanced puppet designs had provided Sunagakure with many new models, giving the war-weary, financially starved village a new path of development after the Second Great Ninja War.
With the quiet backing of his grandmother Chiyo, Sasori's status in the village had risen rapidly. He now stood as an equal to Rasa himself.
Whispers were spreading through Sunagakure: the Fourth Kazekage would either be Rasa—or Sasori.
For Rasa, who had always aimed for the title of Fourth Kazekage, this rumor was suffocating pressure. His loathing for Sasori only grew stronger with each passing day.
Still, no matter how much he despised the boy, Rasa would never show it openly. He intended to become the Fourth Kazekage, a leader beloved by the people. He could not afford to let his rivalry show.
Burying his hatred deep, Rasa deliberately stepped forward through the crowd and greeted Sasori with a smile:
"Sasori, are you heading to the puppet workshop to research a new design today as well?"
The surrounding Suna shinobi, seeing Rasa's warmth and friendliness, murmured with admiration. Two geniuses of the village, gifted and apparently on good terms—surely Sunagakure's future would be brighter than ever with them around.
But while Rasa could fool the others, he could never fool Sasori.
Having lost his parents early and lived in lies for so long, Sasori had become exceptionally sensitive to pretense since the day he exposed his grandmother's deceit. No matter how well-hidden Rasa's hatred was, Sasori could see through it at a glance.
Casting a cold, expressionless glance at Rasa's professional fake smile, Sasori bypassed him without a word and walked straight toward the puppet workshop, indifferent to the whispers behind him.
Rasa froze as Sasori ignored him. His forced smile stiffened, and inwardly he cursed Sasori to high heaven.
But to maintain his "approachable" image, he turned to the onlookers—who had found Sasori's behavior quite rude—and explained with a practiced smile:
Rasa explained to the others with a smile:
"That's just Sasori's personality. There's no need to blame him. As an indispensable genius, Sasori is already doing very well."
The retreating Sasori, hearing this, curled his lips into a faint arc of mockery. In a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, he muttered:
"The true face of humans—false, ugly. Compared to them, obedient puppets are the only beings truly worthy of trust."
As he spoke, Sasori lifted his head slightly toward the slowly setting sun, a thought stirring in his heart:
This Sunagakure, steeped in hypocrisy and stench, I've grown sick of it. Once I accomplish that task, I'll leave this wretched place behind.
――――
That very night, Sasori quietly emerged from the puppet workshop. No one knew when it had appeared in his hand, but he now held a poison that had never existed before.
Sunagakure lay deep within the desert, where the temperature difference between day and night was vast. At night the village became so frigid that few ventured outside. Other than the patrol units, no one set foot on its streets.
And as Chiyo's grandson, Sasori knew the patrol patterns and positions by heart.
Effortlessly evading the guards, he slipped silently toward the Kazekage Building.
Inside, the light in the Kazekage's office still burned. The Third Kazekage, Ryūnosuke, was working late into the night. Perhaps it was a side effect of his transformation into a puppet.
His body, now almost entirely converted into a puppet, could hardly be called human anymore. Most of his biological functions had been replaced with artificial materials. With such a body, even a brief rest was enough to sustain hours of work.
This only fueled Ryūnosuke's workaholic tendencies—but his obsession had another cause as well. Only when forcing his mind to race at full speed could he briefly forget the truth: that he was no longer human, but a puppet-man. In that frenzy of tasks, he could still taste the fleeting illusion of human busyness.
Knock, knock, knock…
The dull knocking echoed eerily through the empty night. But Ryūnosuke felt no fear. He was no longer human—would he still fear ghosts? Besides, he was the Third Kazekage. Who in the Kazekage's office of Sunagakure could possibly harm him?
Bent over his desk, Ryūnosuke said casually:
"Come in."
The door creaked open. Only then did Ryūnosuke lift his head. Seeing Sasori step inside, he gave a strangely twisted smile.
"Oh, Sasori. What brings you here so late? Don't tell me you've come to assassinate me again?"
Sasori had indeed attempted his life once before. But to Ryūnosuke, the assassination attempt of a twelve-year-old was laughable.
At best, Sasori's strength was jōnin-level. With his puppets, he might just scrape into the ranks of elite jōnin. Ryūnosuke, though a puppet-man and diminished from his peak, remained a Kage-class fighter—and among the stronger ones at that.
The result of that attempt had naturally been Sasori's crushing defeat.
In Ryūnosuke's mind, having been taught such a harsh lesson, Sasori would never dare raise his hand against him again.
Konoha's Sword Saint [343]
As expected, this time Sasori hadn't brought along any powerful puppets or scrolls of forbidden techniques. In his hand he carried only a small vial.
Seeing Ryūnosuke's half-smiling, half-mocking expression, Sasori forced an unnaturally stiff "smile" of his own, then bowed deeply.
"About the last time I tried to assassinate you—I'm very sorry. Grandma has already given me a severe punishment. I came today to apologize. I was too immature. You've clearly done so much for Sunagakure, yet I thought of killing you. I'll never do something like that again.
Also, this is a special oil I've personally refined. It keeps puppet joints flexible, and for a short time can even make them move more smoothly and dexterously than human hands. I'd like to give it to you, as a token of my apology."
Hearing this, Ryūnosuke's smile widened. Of course, he thought, that's just how kids are. Give them one good thrashing and they'll come around. To him, Sasori clearly had realized his mistake.
Ryūnosuke didn't believe Sasori would try another assassination—or rather, he didn't care. For someone of his level, this boy, still barely developed physically, was a mere jōnin at best. With just a flick of his fingers and a trace of Iron Sand, he could paralyze Sasori instantly.
Still, caution was never wasted. With calm indifference, Ryūnosuke said:
"Just put it there. I'll look into your little invention when I have time."
But Sasori frowned slightly.
"Lord Ryūnosuke, do you still suspect I'd try to poison you? I told you, I won't attempt to kill you again. If you don't believe me, I can prove it."
As he spoke, Sasori uncorked the vial himself—and revealed his own puppet-modified arm.
Ryūnosuke was taken aback. He jumped to his feet.
"Sasori! Where are your real hands? Why have they become puppet arms?!"
Sasori replied with indifference:
"It's nothing. To reach greater heights in puppetry, such sacrifices are necessary. Human fingers can only move so far. No matter how much I train, I can at most manipulate ten puppets like Grandma Chiyo.
But I believe that shouldn't be my limit. One day I intend to command hundreds, even thousands of puppets at once. Human hands could never achieve that. So I chose to modify my arms."
Ryūnosuke felt a chill. For the first time, he realized he had never truly seen through this child.
To so casually speak of cutting off one's own hands—as if discarding useless trash… It made Ryūnosuke remember his disciple Rasa's private criticisms of Sasori. Perhaps there was truth to them.
"This is madness. You're still so young, and your hands were perfectly fine. Why mutilate yourself?"
Though Ryūnosuke was heartbroken, it was useless. Sasori's hands were already gone, and could never be reattached. His words were too late.
At that moment Sasori suddenly regained a childlike brightness, even a hint of pride in his voice:
"Now let me show you just how effective this oil is."
He first flexed his puppet fingers, displaying their maximum speed. Then he smeared the special oil over the joints.
As the lubricant seeped in, Sasori moved his fingers again—and this time the puppet arm's motions were visibly faster, fluid, and capable of movements far beyond any natural human limb.
For example, Sasori's fingers could twist completely 180 degrees, or coil around like twisted rope. Watching this, Ryūnosuke was utterly astonished.
Sasori truly is a genius in the art of puppetry… to have developed something like this?
As Sasori's fingers carved afterimages in the air, Ryūnosuke felt a sudden itch of envy. If this oil really could make his body more flexible, then perhaps his taijutsu could regain some of its former glory. Maybe he could even combine it with his Magnet Release to develop a new kind of puppet-style combat technique.
If the effect could be maintained long-term, perhaps his strength might even return to its original level.
After convincing himself there was nothing wrong with the oil, Ryūnosuke couldn't resist any longer—he grabbed the vial Sasori offered and smeared the oil onto his own hands.
No one knew his body better than he did; after four or five years of living in a puppet shell, he was intimately familiar with every movement. Instantly, he felt a flexibility in his hands that he had never experienced before.
Unable to resist, he began forming hand seals. Normally, limited by the stiffness of his puppet body, he could manage four seals per second at most. But now, under the oil's effect, he reached six seals per second.
His hands really had become more agile.
Excited, Ryūnosuke kept staring at his own hands—completely missing the fact that Sasori's expression was slowly shifting into one of unrestrained delight.
"Lord Ryūnosuke, are you satisfied?"
Without even looking up, Ryūnosuke replied,
"Satisfied. I'm more than satisfied. With this oil, my combat power might truly return to what it once was."
But in Sasori's eyes now gleamed naked greed. He looked Ryūnosuke up and down and said,
"I'm also quite satisfied with your body, Lord Ryūnosuke. A puppet body is truly a masterpiece of art. Don't you agree? Classic, eternal—an immortal beauty."
The increasingly strange tone made Ryūnosuke finally sense something wrong. He lifted his head—only to meet Sasori's eyes, filled with madness.
That fevered, dangerous gaze startled even the Third Kazekage himself. Instinctively, Ryūnosuke tried to use his Magnet Release to restrain Sasori—only to discover, with horror… he couldn't channel chakra at all.
Seeing Ryūnosuke finally realize the truth, Sasori calmly explained,
"Ah, I forgot to mention, Lord Ryūnosuke—this oil does have one flaw. After using it, a puppet body cannot conduct chakra for a short period of time."
Ryūnosuke's eyes went wide. He stared in disbelief.
"You… you dared poison me? You still intend to assassinate me?!"
Enraged, he swung his puppet arm, trying to grab Sasori by the collar—but his body no longer obeyed him.
At the same time, Sasori's leisurely voice rang out:
"It seems you truly lack any talent for controlling puppets. Take a look at your arms."
Ryūnosuke belatedly looked at his arms and saw several small puppet scorpions had, without his notice, already plunged their stingers into his arm joints.
Looking at the terrified expression on Ryūnosuke's face, Sasori gave a brilliant smile. "From today on, become my greatest puppet."
Author's Note:
(In the original story, the exact method by which Sasori defeated the Third Kazekage was never described. Considering his age at the time, I think the possibility of him using poison is the most likely.)