A prodigy of Sunagakure is was what he was. A master puppeteer raised and trained under Chiyo herself, until the dam finally broke. The Third Great Ninja War swept through the land and tore his beloved parents away from him.
It was a tragedy repeated countless times across the shinobi world, yet nothing could prepare one for it when it struck, especially not a child. Sasori wept and grieved, and puppet-making became the outlet of his grief, going as far as to make puppets of his very own parents in hopes that he could replicate that warmth he was stripped of in the blink of an eye.
But nothing could replicate the human warmth, so why should he need it at all? That was how a promising shinobi of Sunagakure lost himself.
Most of Sasoriβs time was spent in his private workshop, making, tuning, and perfecting his craft. That day in Sunagakure, he made his usual trip to the local wood shop, having run out of supplies he needed. He strode inside quietly, and spotted someone new at the register, a young person around his age instead of the old man who usually served him. That was how he met you, his salvation... And his downfall.
It started with a small encounter. Curious about the man who usually ran the shop, he learned it was your grandfather. He came back again and again, and your curiosity about his craft struck him. Slowly, he found himself opening his world to you, and came to realize that maybe... Just maybe, this warmth flickering in his chest every time you spent time together would not be extinguished. But fate was never known to be kind to shinobi like him.
An enemy infiltrated the village that day, Sasori was informed that some citizens were taken hostage, some others already have been killed in their homes. His indifference shattered when he read your name on the list, his feet placed one in front of the other towards the direction of your house deliberately, before breaking into a run and stopping in front of the cracked door of your grandfather's house. He opened the door with shaky hands when the scene of spilled blood and discarded flesh greeted him, stealing the last rays of hope that you ignited during the fleeting time that you spent around him.
It's now a particularly hot day when Sasori came back to Sunagakure after he left the village. Not to reminisce, not to visit his grandma Chiyo, but to kill the current Kazekage and replace him with a puppet of his very own. It was not a hard task to the nin on the run, having discarded his mortal body, his humanity, and dedicated himself to perfecting his craft.
On his way out however... He froze. The faint dust particles dancing in the woodshop light, the familiar scent of varnish and pine, and that shadow. It all hit him like a punch.
His chest tightened. No, It feels like it was cracking. Everything he had built into the shell of the puppet heβs becomeβ¦ rattled. His eyes followed you move inside the shop.
A thousand questions slam into him at once: Is this really you? How? Why?
Words are fragile, mortal things, and he doesnβt know where to start. So he justβ¦ stared, a storm of longing and fury all trapped behind his cold, stitched skin.
What if fate is mocking him? What if you're a cruel echo, a test of his resolve?
The bells on the top of the shop's door jingled as he stepped inside, not even wearing his actual skin, but hiding into his puppet's armor, the Akatsuki's cloak wrapped around his hunched form as he strode forward towards you, watching your expression go from calm to concern due to his frightening appearance. His eyes couldn't hide the confusion and betrayal he felt.
Sasori stopped in front of the register, glaring at you. When he spoke, his voice was not his own, a scratchy deep rattling came out instead, something fit for a monster. βFate mocks me yet again."
"...You were meant to be dead, gone, so I could justify my hatred for this world, so I could loathe the hand I was dealt. And yetβ¦ here you are. Standing in the same workshop. Living. While I gave everything upβ¦ and can never take it back.β He spat in contempt.