Author: AnimaAmore

Rating: K

Genre(s): Romance, general, humour, family, fluff

Fanfic Type: AU, one-shot

Pairing: Sasori x Sakura, SasoSaku

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. This story, however, is mine.

Author's comments: Characters may be slightly OC, mainly for the fluff factor of the story.

Summary: Sasori Akasuna is a gifted young man who is apprenticed to a puppeteer, making puppets for anyone with enough cash in the bank. Being slightly introverted and finding liberation only in his work, he's not quite sure what to do when his master leaves him to run the shop for two weeks as his final test and a small pink-haired girl, who admires his work, suddenly proposes him matrimony for the sole reason of obtaining the title of the "Puppet Couple."

"Good job today, Sasori."

Sasori inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, letting his messy red locks fall over his eyes. "Thank you, master."

The old puppet master sighed at his apprentice's quiet, polite and somehow perfectly detached answer. Despite having taken the young lad under his wing for the better part of five years, Sasori refused to abandon his formal, reserved demeanor with him. Sure, the old man had quickly understood that the young redhead was not only beyond talented in the craft, or as the young lad once proclaimed, the art, of wood carving and puppet-making, but was as introverted and therefore reserved as he was gifted.

The old puppeteer looked quietly at his apprentice as the latter carefully painted the lips of his most recent creation meticulously. The young redhead, a mere sixteen years of age, did not waste a single movement or so much as a micro drop of paint as he relatively quickly drew realistic lips on his male puppet. The old man faintly recalled his own attempts to draw lips on male puppets when he was an apprentice himself, and smiled faintly to himself. He never again underestimated what the right colour of pigment did for the gender of his creations. Something that Sasori seemed to know as instinctively as breathing. Heavens, "talented" did not begin to describe the abilities of his young apprentice. It truly did the young lad a gross injustice, indeed.

"Sasori," the puppeteer said after a contemplative moment.

Sasori's hand froze as he raised his tired-looking honey-brown eyes from his puppet, calmly giving his master his attention wordlessly. Having worked with the boy for so long, being side-by-side daily with him both in the craft store as well as home (as Sasori had gone to live with him as part of the apprenticeship), the old master easily read the lad's silent response. Yes?

"Sasori," the man continued, "as your master, it is my responsibility to not only teach you the art and craft of wood carving, puppet-making and puppeteering, but also to look after your well-being. Both your personal one and for your career. Correct?"

Sasori, sensing that this time his master was not speaking casually as he was wont to do, but with an important message, slowly lowered his hands and placed the puppet and paintbrush he'd been using on the table before him. Once again, he lightly inclined his head at his master's question.

The old man nodded to himself. "Ever since you came into my life, lad, both in my workshop and my home, it has both been a both a responsibility and an honour I wholly embraced. It truly has been an honour to have you as my apprentice."

The teen tilted his head slightly to the side, contemplating his master's words. This was sounding almost as if his master was saying good-bye, which was preposterous. The man had been born and raised in the little town they currently dwelled in and had only ever set foot on other cities when he was trying to locate merchants with items that he may use in his work. In the years Sasori had been apprenticed to the old man, these trips were few and far between, not to mention short.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, he waited for his master to continue.

"My boy, I am proud to tell you that your apprenticeship is nearly at its end. I know that it is customary for wood-carving apprenticeships to last longer than the scarce four and half years or so that you have been with me, especially if I'm teaching the specialty of puppet-making. But you hold more talent for the craft than anyone I have ever met in all my long years. But you don't need me to tell you that, now do you?"

It was true. In fact, the puppet he was currently working on was especially commissioned by a young baroness in a neighbouring country who'd paid an excessive amount to have a small collection of Sasori's creations just so she "could brag to everyone once he was finished with his training and became world-famous that she had his first works from when he was just a poor apprentice."

Sasori had long been known as an artistically gifted boy, even as a young child. When word of his abilities at art, along with some examples he'd tossed aside in dissatisfaction, reached the eyes and ears of many art mentors considering taking on apprentices, well, it wouldn't really be a stretch to compare the race to snatch up the next big name in the art world a war! Sasori had been old enough, about seven or eight when the whole fiasco begun, so he had clear memories of the whole event.

Mentor after mentor had been refuted, no matter what promises of grandeur or wealth or fame had been made to him. It had shocked the old puppeteer, who lived in a small no-name town in the county over, when the young redhead, in all of his eleven-and-then-some year old glory, knocked on his door one day and asked to be his apprentice. By then the old man had heard of the young prodigy, obviously, and had also been aware of all the big-name artists practically begging the young boy to be theirs. He had awkwardly told the boy, who was by himself, that he had little to pay him with as he himself was far from rich, and that apprenticeship under him would not grant him the same favours or luxuries that other masters could give him. To this day, it brings him great amusement when he recalls the boy's answer:

"I care not for what others can do for me for I will make a name for myself. I have no need to ride the coattails of an inept buffoon who does not truly appreciate art. I will carve my own future with my own hands without outside influence which is what those frauds intend; all I require is the opportunity to do so." After shocking the old puppeteer with his surprisingly eloquent speech, he'd added. "Also, out of all the mediums I've tried, wood-carving is my favourite. And I can make my own toys. So there."

It had been the most the old man had ever heard the young lad say at any one time. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Now," the master continued to address the teenager, "while your artistic talents are irrefutable, and have surpassed mine – now don't give me that look, you know it is true as much as I – there is one last test I must give you before you can graduate a full-blooded wood carver and puppet master. And I'm afraid it may be the toughest challenge yet for you, my boy."

Sasori gave his master an inquisitive, bemused look. What could possibly be so hard about this final test that his master was giving him such a concerned look?

"Sasori," the old man sighed. "Your art skills are unparalleled. You will not have the problem of carving your own path, as you proclaimed on my doorstep all those years ago. However, you are rather lacking in one aspect; a rather vital one." This time Sasori did frown, minutely. What exactly did he lack that could harm him as an artist? As if reading his mind, his master proclaimed, "Your people skills, boy, your people skills!" At the teen's unchanged uncomprehending look, the old man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Placing his hand on his apprentice's head before taking a seat across the little worktable that the latter had been using, he elaborated.

"I'm afraid, my cute little apprentice, that your people skills are rather lacking. And yes, this is a bit of a vital flaw. You see, Sasori, with your skill there will undoubtedly be many people, possibly in the hundreds, who will pay out of their ears to get their hands on one of your works. But, you must remember that part of what I've tried to teach you is not just how to shape wood into figures but also the consequences of fame. Infamy will still get you customers, for sure, and well-paying ones, but it will do more harm than anything to your career. I've heard many a tale of many people from various disciplines who saw their careers die an ugly death due to their bad reputations. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Sasori scrunched up his nose and looked pensively at the puppet lying on the table between him and his master. Raising one hand to hold his chin with the length of a finger, in an old habit that indicated he was either thinking or deeply considering something, he muttered an, "I believe so." Honestly, he'd never quite considered himself so bad at interacting with people that his master would be so concerned. Or make his final test revolving around that particular… skill.

"Now, lad, no need to be so worried," the old man said. "I know you well enough that I know you are simply quiet and keep to yourself. Nothing wrong with that! In fact, my old man used to say, bless his soul in heaven, that that was a sign of high intelligence, oh yes indeed." Sasori inwardly was pleased to find that he agreed with the deceased man. While he was not naturally inclined towards making conversation, just hearing the babbles of some of the townsfolk was enough to put him off any small talk. He'd talk if it was needed, and only to those who had something worthwhile to say. Otherwise it was just a waste of time, in his opinion, to encourage others to talk just so they could listen to their own voice. His lack of patience for people to get to the point (if there even was one to begin with) as well as other time-related things led him to become well-known as an impatient, antisocial man. Of this he was aware.

However, he preferred the term "selective socializing." It wasn't his fault that the selection pool was so poor.

"But you need to be able to talk to your customers," the old man kept saying, ignorant to Sasori's antisocial inner thoughts. "And to sell your wares. Just placing them on a window with a price tag is not going to fly. I'm not saying you need to be as good a merchant as you are a puppet master, but you do need some basic skills dealing with people. And, I'm sorry to say, your preference to stare and keep mute when everyone knows you can talk is considered, well, rude. And snobby by some." Sasori looked vaguely insulted by that last sentence. "Right now, as you're just an apprentice and working under my roof, your reputation is not so bad. But when you're on your own, lad, you really will be on your own. At least career-wise."

"I see." It made sense, Sasori thought. His master was a jovial man with an affinity for networking, that was evident from day one. But he had never tried to teach Sasori something that he truly didn't feel was essential to the trade. If his master was telling Sasori that his social skills weren't where they needed to be, then who was he to argue? Besides, he was highly conscious of this fault. He'd actively done his best to avoid interacting with people if he could get away with it. He supposed it was a flaw of his own making that he was in this predicament. He and his often mocked lack of patience.

Looking up at his master, determination along with a drop of trepidation in his brown eyes, he asked, "What will you have me do?"

The old man grinned broadly. Sasori got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I am going on a short two-week vacation that's been a long time coming. You are going to stay here in the meantime and run the shop."

Sasori's mouth dropped open. He couldn't be serious, could he? "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I assure you I am."

"Master, with all due respect… this is insane."

The puppet master threw his head back and laughed. "Just because you don't like it!"

His young apprentice scowled at him, but said nothing. After letting his master laugh for a few more seconds, he finally grumped, "Fine. When are you leaving?"

The puppeteer chortled as he saw his normally apathetic-looking apprentice – dare he say it? – sulking. "Tomorrow. I'll be leaving in the morning and be back in the evening exactly on the fourteenth day of my departure."

"Tomorrow…" Sasori echoed. That was so soon. How long, exactly, had his master been planning this?

The old man stood up from the table and shuffled over to the shop's door, where he flipped the OPEN side of the sign hanging on the doorframe to CLOSED. Looking back over his shoulder at Sasori, who still was giving him a rather disgruntled look, he smirked at him faintly. Sasori caught the look and huffed. He did not like that look on his master's face.

"Don't stay up too late tonight, lad. I have to give you a few rules in the morning before I go, and trust me when I say that you do not want to miss them."

Sasori couldn't wait.

~X~

Sasori had always been an early riser, so for him it was no big deal to get up at the crack of dawn. However, he had to say that while waking up was simple, getting up and going did take some effort on his part. To say he was reluctant to go on with the day was simply stating the obvious.

He didn't particularly mind that his master was going on vacation.

He did mind that he was stuck alone for two weeks, running the shop on his own. It wasn't so much that he wanted a vacation, it was simply that he really, really didn't want to deal with the townsfolk. Especially since the town was small enough that everyone knew everyone else's business; meaning that by the afternoon there wouldn't be a soul who didn't know of his master's departure or that he was completely. And utterly. Alone.

Which only invited more people than usual to show up, if for nothing else then for a glance of the boy genius. How did he know? Oh, nothing to it really, just memories of the first couple of instances where his master had left him alone at the shop or his home for the better part of a day or weekend while he ran some errands. Good God, it was like the whole town took it as an invitation to have tea with him.

Oh, how he despised those busybodies.

He wasn't a damn attraction. He was a wood artist, specializing in making puppets. He did exactly the same thing that the old puppeteer did. Honestly, while his work was more unique, for lack of a better word, it was nothing the townspeople hadn't seen before.

Needless to say, both master and apprentice quickly learned to get used to each other for prolonged periods of time.

Sasori yawned as he finished his breakfast. His master had already left for only an hour and already he was dreading the day ahead. It didn't make it any easier when his gaze landed on the piece of paper beside his plate, which the old puppet master had given him before he hitched a ride with a merchant that was passing by.

The rules of the final test.

Fuming at the neatly folded paper, Sasori snatched it up and opened it, looking over the ridiculous rules, or tasks, he was to accomplish to successfully finish his apprenticeship. His master had explained them to him, and while Sasori agreed with the logic behind each, he still didn't like them one bit.

1) Remain faithful to the shop hours – no closing early or opening late.

2) Work at the front of the shop instead of the back.

3) If a customer comes in, greet them politely, regardless if they're just looking or buying. When they leave, thank them for their business and say goodbye.

4) Answer any questions politely and in full sentences. Try to avoid single-word answers or relying on others to decipher your body language – you have functioning vocal cords, use them.

5) Aim to have one good acquaintance or friend by the time I get back.

They were only five rules, and while the first four seemed straight forward enough, he wasn't thrilled by the last one. Quite honestly, no one makes good friends or acquaintances in only two weeks, much less someone as introverted as him!

Not for the first time, Sasori questioned his master's sanity.

Looking at the clock on the wall to his right, he sighed quietly and folded the note before placing it in his pocket. If he was to work at the front of the store and open the shop on time, he needed to move his things right now. He'd take care of the dishes later when he was having lunch.

Here goes nothing, he thought to himself.

~X~

There goes my peace of mind, he grumbled mentally.

The shop had been open for all of two hours and already he had counted six people who had walked into the shop. They pretended to look around, as if the numerous puppets, wood carvings, sculptures and other goods were unheard of, all the while sneaking glances at him.

Sasori had welcomed each one as politely as he could, in his ever so quiet voice, effectively startling some of them. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume some had never heard him speak before, much less directly to them.

And yet, Sasori found himself hard-pressed to ignore them and not give them an annoyed look or a biting remark about taking a picture. Clenching his jaw, he lifted the puppet he had been working on for the past week to eye level, inspecting it with a critical eye. He was not unaware of the six pairs of eyes that focused on him the instant he did that, each person seemingly holding their breath as if at any moment he'd breathe life into the wooden doll.

Lowering his creation, Sasori ducked his head down, letting his blood red locks fall over his eyes, hiding them from sight so he could squeeze them shut as he took a deep breath. Bunch of pests.

A woman in her mid-twenties approached him at his working table. "Excuse me?"

Sasori lifted his head to look at the woman. "Yes?" Remembering the rule cautioning him against one-word answers, he added, "What can I help you with, ma'am?"

The woman looked startled for an instant, before locking eyes with his seemingly drowsy, rich honey-brown eyes and flushing a deep scarlet. "P-please, call me miss. I'm not married yet," she said before giggling behind her hand.

The teen apprentice felt a tick on his jaw, but showed no indication of it. "What can I do for you, miss?"

"I was just wondering what this item was." She lifted a circular object for him to see. Sasori had to really, really fight the urge to use the are-you-an-idiot tone when he answered.

"That's a bracelet. Miss."

"Oh, really? I couldn't tell; I didn't see a clasp."

"Carved bracelets don't usually have clasps. The wood is not flexible enough."

"Can show me how to put it on, please?" the woman batted her eyelashes and passed him the bracelet.

Sasori felt the strong urge to gag and reel back, but he forced himself to sit still and not let his feelings show on his face. Usually an easy feat. Not so easy this time.

Taking the bracelet from the woman's bony fingers, he pretended to not see her hand still hovering between them and slipped the bracelet around his own wrist. "Just slip in on as if it was a sleeve." Taking the accessory off and passing it back to the woman, who was flushed with an embarrassed look on his face, he added, "Is there anything else?"

"N-no. Thank you for your help."

Deciding that a nod would suffice without being rude, that's what he gave her. The woman quickly walked back to the other side of the store and returned the bracelet to the basket of other carved accessories.

Just as he was about to return his attention to his puppet, a middle-aged man stepped up to his table and shoved something right under the teen's nose. "Can you tell me what this is?"

Sasori pulled his head back to look at the object. "…That's a toy snake, sir."

"Of course, of course! Finely made, I say. Well, good, as you were, lad."

Just as the man turned around, Sasori spotted the other four customers lined up by his table, each holding a trinket and smiling eagerly at him. Casting his own work a longing look, he resigned himself to his fate and gently pushed it aside.

He couldn't wait until closing time.

Which was seven hours away.

Damn his master to hell.

~X~

After a tiring, and trying, day, Sasori breathed a sigh of relief as he flipped the shop's sign from OPEN to CLOSED. His throat felt parched and dry from so much talking. He wasn't big in conversation, and he only answered questions with as few words as possible while maintaining civility, but, as he'd predicted, once word got out that he was on his own it seemed as if half the town had visited his shop and tried to get him to talk to them. Which he couldn't very well refuse due to his master's blasted rules.

He turned off a few of the shops lights, pausing just as he reached the lamp on his worktable. His poor puppet lay incomplete just where he'd left it that morning after that bimbo of a woman had interrupted him.

Gently, he picked up what was supposed to be a wizard. He scowled. At this rate, he'd be lucky if he completed the piece by the time his master returned, which was nearly twice the amount of time he'd planned for. No one could blame him for his ill temper then, because impatient or not, a whole extra week was ridiculously long.

For Sasori, to whom five minutes past a set time was an annoyance, it was torture.

He set down his work back on the table and, as he took off his work apron, he walked over to the pantry in the back room. Hanging his apron on a hook, he scanned the bare shelves, which held only a couple eggs, a brownish banana, and a whole lot of spices. Nothing for supper. Sure, he could eat the banana and the eggs, but that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him after his odious day, and that would mean he'd be hard pressed to go to the market for his breakfast and return on time to open shop on time in the morning.

Which meant he had to go grocery shopping right now. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he clenched his eyes, prayed for patience, and, one by one, he stiffly peeled his tense fingers from the pantry door. For the first time since he became apprenticed to the old puppeteer, he wished his master ill luck on his voyage.

He was mildly grateful for the market being open so late. It was just after six when he finished his shopping and the sun was setting behind the mountains. Most people had gone home, and the grocers, who knew Sasori from his errands throughout the years, greeted him warmly and were not offended by his silent greetings or other silent communication, being long used to his quiet ways.

It was a small blessing. Sasori wouldn't know what he'd do if his master had demanded that his rules extend to outside the shop as well.

As he headed back to building that had served him as both home and apprenticeship headquarters, he stopped in his tracks just a few buildings away. There was a small figure looking through the shop's window, interestedly examining the sample goods on display.

Sasori raised his left arm and looked at his watch. What's a child doing out on his own at this hour?

Shrugging, because it really wasn't his problem, and the town was as safe as could be anyhow, he took the last few steps to get to the shop. The small figure turned towards him when he heard him approach, and the young apprentice noticed as he got closer that the child was a little girl. With pink hair. What?

"Do you work here, mister?" she asked as he took out his keys and opened the door to the shop.

Giving her a sidelong look, wondering if children were getting dumber, he mutely nodded.

She smiled widely. She had a pretty smile, Sasori flittingly thought, even is she was missing a tooth and was a brat. "Cool!" the girl said. "This place is so neat, I can't decide what I like best. There's just a plethora of stuff to choose from!"

Okay, maybe not dumb, Sasori thought, taken aback by the girl's vocabulary. The fact that she not only knew such a word as "plethora" but had also used it in its grammatically correct form was surprising, to say the least.

The girl kept talking, either ignoring the fact that the teen had grocery bags and wanted to go inside or oblivious to it. Sasori couldn't tell. "Where do you get all this stuff from?"

That took him back. "Pardon?"

"My grandpa told me that some shops nowadays sell stuff that come from factories. Is this one such shop?"

"No."

Bright gem-green eyes peered up at him curiously. "Are they made here, then?" When Sasori nodded, she smiled toothily at him again. "I knew it! But I just had to verify."

Although he was tired, and wanted nothing more than to have supper and go to sleep, her comment and use of another word that seemed too advanced for her age intrigued him. "Why?" he asked.

"Why I had to verify?" she asked for clarification. Again, he nodded. "Because I like to know if I'm right or wrong. Part of the learning process, you know."

"I… see." An awkward pause ensued then. The girl kept looking at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to do something, but Sasori had no idea what that was. Truth be told, he had no idea how to interact with children. Sure, he was a bit antisocial, but at least he knew what adults expected and what to do. Often times his master would jokingly tell him that he was the youngest old man in the country. But children? They were a loose cannon. Who knew what was going on through their heads?

Seemingly tired of waiting for him, the little girl rolled her eyes and decided to take the initiative by sticking out her little arm. "My name is Sakura. What's yours?"

Not knowing what else to do, Sasori lowered a shopping bag and clasped her little hand in his. "Sasori?" Heavens above, could he get any more awkward?

"Are you asking or are you telling?"

The answer was, yes, he could. "Telling. Sasori."

She grinned at him as she pumped their hands up and down. What a sassy, energetic little thing. "Good. Nice to meet you, Sasori."

"Same." Retracting his hand after their enthusiastic handshake, he finally decided to ask, "What are you doing here by yourself?"

The girl shifted, and Sasori noted that she had a rather stuffed backpack on. How had he missed that? "I'm waiting for my grandpa."

"Ah." Another pause. "Is he picking you up?"

"No. I was supposed to go to his shop, but no one is answering."

He faintly frowned. He wondered what kind of person sent a little girl on her own, probably to an unknown town, after sunset, and then failed to go get her. Then again, maybe she wandered off after waiting for all of a minute to have the door opened, and got sidetracked looking at his shop's display.

"Since you work here, can you tell my grandpa to wake up and come greet me?"

Sasori blinked. He couldn't have heard right. "Pardon?"

She tilted her head. "You already said that."

Sasori sighed and crouched down so he was at eye level with her. "What do you mean?"

"My grandpa owns this shop. And he loves me! Why else would he not answer the door unless he was sleeping?" she answered as if it was the most logical answer in the world.

Sasori, for his part, couldn't believe his ears. The old man had a granddaughter? Who was coming to visit? Since when?

"I think there might be a mistake, little girl," he said slowly, not wanting to upset her but unwilling to believe that his luck had deserted him so badly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well…" he hesitated, scratched his head, and then awkwardly pressed on. "He's not here."

Her eyes, already large, widened dramatically. "He's not dead, is he?"

Now it was Sasori's turn to widen his eyes. "What? No."

She sighed in relief. "Oh, okay then. Then it just means he'll return eventually. Maybe he's late."

Or maybe you're early. Way, way early, the young apprentice thought. "Can I see your train pass?"

She gasped, giving him an amazed look. "How'd you know I came by train?" she asked.

Logic. She was obviously not from town, as he was sure he'd remember a child with such a unique hair colouring, and judging by her clothes she probably came from a place too far to make the trip on her own by other means. But instead of answering her, he just shrugged.

Not minding his ambiguous response, she pulled out a large piece of paper folded neatly in four from her pocket and presented it to him. He took it, glancing up at her quickly before unfolding it. Inside the pass was a note, in horrible handwriting that was a tad too familiar, expressing the writer's enthusiasm and warm wishes for Sakura to come visit him.

"Sakura," he said. She looked at him expectantly. "Why did you arrive today?"

She gave him a look that made him think that she believed him simple. He tried not to take it personally. "Because it says so right in the note. See?" She pointed at some numbers on the note that were supposed to be her expected day of arrival. "O-five. That's the numerical representation of May."

Yes, he could see how she would make that mistake. Emphasis on mistake. With the chicken scratch that his master passed for writing, he'd made what Sasori knew to be a six look like a five to everyone unfamiliar with the puppeteer's handwriting.

Thanks to that little mistake, Sakura – the old man's granddaughter, a child – had arrived a whole month early. Without the old man home.

Sasori had the strongest urge to face palm, but settled for resting his cheek on his fist as he contemplated the mockery his life had become in the last twenty-four hours. He looked back at Sakura, who was smiling at him, and inwardly groaned.

Master, what have you gotten me into?

~X~

Having no other choice but to invite her in, after explaining to her that he was her grandfather's apprentice and running the place in his absence, for as socially incompetent as he was even he knew that he couldn't abandon her on the street, Sasori started to put the groceries away as his mind raced. What was he to do? He had no experience dealing with children, nor ever had the desire to. And he was in the middle of his final test; he couldn't entertain such a young child. He didn't even know how to even if he had the time and desire She seemed smart enough and had immediately pulled out a thick book from her bag upon entering the shop, so while Sasori hoped the book would keep her occupied for some time he knew it wouldn't last forever.

He glanced over his shoulder to spot her perched on a chair on the other side of the room, her bag on the floor beside it. She was contentedly humming to herself while she flipped a page. The teen squinted, trying to make out the title.

The Basics of the Basics of Home Remedies: Backyard Herbs are Your Friends!

"Aren't… I mean, can you…?" he awkwardly asked her, gesturing at the book.

Sakura lifted her head to glance at him. She shrugged. "Understand it? Sure I can."

Sasori wasn't so convinced, although he was impressed she had picked up on his unsaid question. "It's… um, pretty thick."

"I like to read. And it's interesting." She squinted at him and frowned. "Are you trying to imply something?"

Good god, she was sharp. But by the expression on her face, she wasn't amused. "It's just unusual to see someone your age so, ah, interested in such a topic. Or a book the thickness of her fist."

"You mean others my age prefer fairy tales," she deadpanned. Being at a loss, Sasori only nodded. "I like those too. But when I grow up, I'm going to be a doctor! But it's hard, you know, like really hard and takes a long, looong time to learn, so, I figured I might as well start now." She beamed proudly at her words.

"Oh." Sasori placed the last item in the shopping bags in the pantry before grabbing the bags, folding them and putting them away. A thought suddenly occurred to him. "How old are you?"

"It's rude to ask a lady her age."

Sasori sighed. "That's only for adults who balk at the idea of getting old even though they wish to live forever."

Sakura scrunched up her nose. "That's weird." Sasori had no response to that, although he vehemently agreed, so he merely nodded. He vaguely noted that he had been doing that a lot as of late. Sakura said, "I'll tell you if you tell me."

"My… age?"

"What else?"

"Sixteen."

"You're old!" Sasori looked offended for a moment before he realized that she was giggling as if she'd just said the funniest joke ever. Sensing that she didn't really believe that, he relaxed. Somewhat.

"Am not."

"Are too! Well, compared to me. I turned six two months ago. So that's a whole decade older!"

Sasori sighed. Taking out two plates from a cupboard, he set about slicing up some bread for them both to eat with some soup. Then he paused. How much did a six-year-old child eat? Surely not as much as a teenager, much less a teenage boy.

As if reading his mind, she hopped off the chair to rest her chin on the table where he was working and said, "I'd like a piece about this big, please." She held her hands up and traced the palm of one hand with the other. Holding her fingers a little apart, she added, "and this thick."

The redhead wasn't a hundred percent sure if that's what she should eat, since he knew kids loved to cheat on their meals when their parents weren't around, but it looked about right for her size, so he obliged.

As they ate their meal, warm lentil soup and bread, Sakura asked him a few questions. He honestly wasn't too keen on the idea at first, but after she had asked him a couple things and hadn't seemed bothered by his one-word answers or his silent responses, he didn't mind too much. Especially since she seemed to have no idea of his fame, so her questions were legitimate instead of the brainless, repetitive, asinine things he'd been asked the rest of the day.

"How long have you been apprenticed to Grandpa?"

He lifted four fingers as he put a spoonful of soup in his mouth. Swallowing, he then brought his index and thumb slightly together.

"Four and bit years?" she asked. At his nod, she nodded back sagely. "That's cool. What do you do?"

His answer was to lazily look around the room, before turning to glance back at her and taking a bite of bread.

"Everything?" she gasped. "That can't be. Grandpa may not be a dictator but he can be fastidious when it comes to doing his own work."

Sasori nearly choked on the piece of bread he'd been about to swallow, but managed to only cough softly before staring at her. It had already been established that the girl possessed a far broader vocabulary than her peers, perhaps even some adults, but Sasori was only just beginning to realize that she knew more than just a handful of words anyone could memorize. She was obviously very, very well educated, and had the intelligence to wield that education effectively.

Going back to the matter at hand, he quietly corrected her. "I didn't mean that. I meant that we both do everything here, even the work."

Sakura looked pensively at him. Sasori shifted uncomfortably as her gaze appraised him. Such intelligence resting entirely on him coming from such young eyes was slightly unnerving.

"So you both cook, and clean, and work the shop, and do wood stuff?" He stiffly inclined his head in acquiesce. She hummed noncommittally as she stirred her spoon in her soup.

For his part, Sasori quietly let out a sigh of relief at the silence that ensued. While she had, so far, not proven as annoying a brat as he originally had imagined, her unnatural intelligence, sharp mind and incredible ability to know what he was saying without opening his mouth was wearing him out.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, in which Sasori felt inadequately awkward but Sakura perfectly at ease – probably not being able to read the atmosphere surrounding them – she asked him one more thing.

"Hey, Sasori?"

He looked askance to her.

"What woodwork do you specialize in? My Grandpa said that that was a thing."

Taking in a deep breath, he got up and walked to the worktable in the adjacent room. He'd decided that showing her would be the easiest way to tell her, not to mention that if she had questions about his favourite work she could probably figure it out by herself just by looking at it.

Handing her the puppet he'd been forced to abandon earlier, he was both surprised and pleased to see how she took it almost reverently instead of snatching it as he feared children were wont to do. The wooden toy looked much bigger in her small hands; the limbs falling over their edge and clacking softly as she gently turned it around to examine it from different angles.

"It's so pretty…" she murmured out loud with undisguised admiration. Sasori had heard his work praised in a thousand different ways from a thousand different people, but for some reason, this time the simple utterance of his master's granddaughter, a child he'd never met nor heard of before, filled him with pride and pleased him more than he cared to admit.

It actually unnerved him a little. What does this mean? He thought, before dismissing it. I'm tired. The day has been much too long.

Sakura returned the puppet to him. "It's gonna look great when you're done. Whoever gets him is going to have so much fun playing with it!"

Sasori stilled, looking up from his puppet at her. "It's not for playing," he quietly informed her.

It was her turn to be surprised. "What? Why not?"

"It's meant to be seen, only."

"But that's such a waste! That doll is not even finished and I already want to play with it!"

Sasori felt his eyebrow twitch in faint irritation. "It's a puppet. Not a doll." He had made some dolls before, but he found the process of making them clothes, using soft materials and other stuff unrelated to woodwork arduous. He much preferred working with his carving tools.

"Puppet – your specialization? You make puppets?" the little pink (pink!) haired girl asked him with wide, awe-filled jewel eyes which seemed to shine iridescent in the candlelight.

"Yes," he answered without thinking, taken aback by her change in demeanor.

She smiled. "I make them too. Shadow puppets!" She looked at him. "If we get married, then we'd be the Puppet Couple!"

He wasn't sure how to respond to that.

Ignoring his flabbergasted look, she happily hummed to herself as she gathered their empty plates and put them in the sink. Sasori could only watch her. What exactly had she said? Surely he must have heard wrong. The day had obviously taken a toll on his mind if he had just imagined his master's six-year-old granddaughter propose matrimony to him.

Sakura kept humming as she dug out a stool from under the sink and began to wash the dishes. Mentally shaking himself from his shock, Sasori quickly returned his puppet to the worktable before returning into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

"It really is a waste," she said conversationally as she passed him a bowl so he could dry it and put it away. Not waiting for him to ask what she was talking about, she kept going. "What's the point of making toys if no one's going to use them?"

"Art," was all he said.

Again, she scrunched her nose. "Art is to be enjoyed. Toys can be art, but their function is to be enjoyed differently; they have to be played with. It's their purpose." Passing him another bowl, this time she looked into his weary eyes and asked, "what's the point of making something that is never going to be enjoyed to it's full potential by anyone?"

Such a sage question struck a chord in Sasori. Unaware of what her shockingly wise question had invoked in him, she went back to humming as she finished washing their spoons.

After they were done, she politely asked him where she was to sleep and he guided her to his master's bedroom. All the while, though, her question had kept swirling around in his brain, only stopping briefly when she climbed on the too-large bed and hugged him around his stomach (even standing on the bed the top of her head barely reached his pectorals) good night. Surprised, all he could do was awkwardly pat her on the back before slipping out of the room.

In the solace of his own room, Sasori mulled the little girl's question over in his head as he prepared to go to sleep. Although his skill had been praised all his life, he quite vividly recalled that as much as people appreciated his artistic skill he'd mainly wanted to make functional things. Growing up, he liked being able to make things that were only good to look at, but he had much preferred the idea of making things people could use that just had a visually appealing flair. Because in his young mind, who said that just because it was for work it couldn't also be art?

When had he given up that idea and let others tell him that his work was too precious to be used and could only be appreciated from a distance? Lying on his bed, with one arm behind his head, he lifted his hand and looked at it, really looked at it for the first time in years. He observed the callouses formed from holding and using his strength to work his tools for hours, the faint, thin scars of working the wood day after day, and the faint dust of dried paint around his cuticles from painstakingly painting every feature of his art in high detail.

All those years of apprenticeship, of hard labour and determination, all so he could make… what? Decorative centerpieces for the high and mighty, came the unbidden answer. That's exactly what he was doing. And he didn't even realize it until Sakura had pointed it out.

Sighing, Sasori lowered his hand. The little girl had given him much to mull over in the scarce hours they'd known each other.

Not long after, a timid knock came from his door. Glancing over at it, he slowly sat up, confused. When he didn't answer, the door slowly creaked open as a head full of pink hair, looking almost dark grey in the nighttime, peered around it.

"Sasori? Are you awake?" Sakura whispered nervously into the room. Something in her tone caught his attention. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he walked towards her, making sure that his footsteps were loud enough that she heard him and wouldn't startle her.

"What's wrong?" he asked back in a whisper, crouching down at her level. Looking immensely uncomfortable and nervous, she bit her lower lip and fidgeted with the hem of her nightdress as her eyes shifted everywhere but on him.

Although he was tired, sleepy, naturally inclined towards impatience and who knows what slew of what else, Sasori refrained from speaking. Instead he opted for calmly observing the girl and letting her take her time. If she had sought him out he guessed it must be important.

Finally, after a tense silence, she finally uttered something too low for Sasori to hear. Inclining his head closer to hers and turning his head slightly, in a show of not being able to hear her, she repeated in a slightly louder, trembling voice, "Can I sleep with you?"

Sasori looked at her in surprise.

Flushing under his gaze, she ducked her head and tightly hugged a haggard-looking white rabbit soft toy to her chest. "I can't sleep here on my own," she mumbled as a way of explanation. "Everything is too quiet, and too big, and too dark and I feel so alone."

She sniffled quietly, trying to not make the noise. Sasori sighed. Of course. He should have expected something of the sort, really. She was so young, and completely on her own in an unknown place with unknown people. Well, unknown person. Just because she had seemed so fearless and confident of herself earlier when they were eating together didn't mean that she would be the same when it was dark outside and she was by herself.

Inwardly, he wrestled with the decision. There were so many cons in letting her stay. For starters, was it even appropriate for them to share a bed when they were unrelated? Their age gap and different sexes surely would be scandalous enough if anyone found out. Good god, what would his master say? What if she insisted on sleeping with him every night? What would he do then?

On the other hand, how could he leave her? Heavens knew that he knew exactly what she was going through, having gone to live with her grandfather when he begun his apprenticeship. But he was eleven, and he knew what he was getting into. She was on her own. Besides, didn't he at least owe her some peace of mind after she helped him realize where his life was going? However unknowingly she had done it, he believed that yes, he did owe her at least that much.

Gently reaching over to cup her cheek and wipe an unshed tear from her eye, he waited until she looked up at him. Even in the poor light, her green eyes were beautiful.

"Yes," was all he said. Hesitating for a second, she awkwardly inched into the room before Sasori scooped her up and he walked them to his bed, leaving the door open.

Setting her down on the bed, he then pulled back the covers and gestured for her to get in. She did so obediently and watched as he went to his closet and dug out an extra blanket before placing it on the foot of the bed and unfolding it beside her.

As he laid down on the bed and wrapped the blanket around him, Sasori hoped she wouldn't ask why he got his own blanket instead of getting under the covers too. He really didn't know how he would answer that.

Luckily, she didn't. Once he was settled in, with his eyes closed and with no indication that he was leaving, she laid back and pulled the covers more securely around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Sasori," she whispered back. Sasori hummed. "You'd make a great husband one day."

He paused. Groggy with sleep, he mumbled out, "Why do you say that?"

When she answered, he could hear the smile in her voice. "Because you are acting just like a prince would treat his princess."

It wasn't until Sakura was fast asleep that Sasori allowed himself to glance at her sleeping face and let a small smile grace his lips.

"And you'd make a great princess."

When I first came up with this story I really hand't envisioned it would turn out like it has. Or as long. But there you go, when inspiration strikes you you better go with it.

This is a oneshot, but as I was writing it a few ideas came to mind that I didn't incorporate so I'm contemplating the idea of making it a two-shot. What do you think? Leave a review and let me know.

Thanks for reading!

~AA