Author's Note: Hi, everyone! This is the first time I've ever attempted to write a fan-fiction. Before you think to yourself, 'She expects us to go easy on her because of that?', know that I'm not saying that to get sympathy or anything. I say it because I realize that I am unheard of on FFN, and knowing that might give you an idea of where I already stand as far as being good at writing goes, since this is pretty much the first time I've actually written something like a story. Please don't judge me based on this. I'm striving to improve, I really am. If you're reading my first "chapter" just to pick out the negatives, I politely ask that you do not leave flames! I don't know what kind of people are out there who are reading this, so I apologize if I've offended you by assuming a reaction like that. Constructive criticism is welcome, and yes -- there IS a difference.

Anyway, I'm really unsure of where I want to go with this. I haven't thought of a good title (the one I have now will probably change over time), and since I'm even clueless as to what will happen next, I can't write an accurate summary. Yet. For now, I've decided to try uploading my writing for once, even though I find it pretty boring. If it isn't well-liked, I don't mind taking it down or anything. It doesn't mean I'll stop writing, I just don't want reading it to be unpleasant to people. If I happen to continue this story, the chapters will without a doubt be longer because I think this one is way too short. There will also be actual dialogue, for obvious reasons. It will get better once I develop an actual summary. I don't know how to explain it, but I can't say I'm satisfied at all with the way this turned out. I feel like it's hardly worth anything -- barely even the time to read it, but I really would like to know what you think of it.

Disclaimer: Masashi Kishimoto owns everything Naruto, not me.

" Chapter One "

Fear.

It was simply the only word he could use to describe the tightening twist of emotion that he could practically sense flooding off of her entire mind and body, almost in waves; yet at the same time he could tell it barely even scratched the surface of what she was feeling. Yes, he saw it. It was so, so simply written in every movement--every tremble and every stiff, uneven step she took as she still uselessly attempted to get away from him; every shift in her gaze as her eyes darted around, desperately searching for what was next...but there was only so much you could read from one person.

"Sakura..." She visibly froze for a split second upon hearing her name and the low chuckle that came after it. Suddenly she couldn't feel any of her minor injuries anymore -- the gashes and burns on her left shoulder, bruises on one side of her face, and a broken left ankle that didn't make running away any easier; they were the last thing on her mind. The adrenaline pumping through her along with her speeding heart rate seemed to awaken a sort of instinct of survival inside of her as he watched, taking his time walking forward. Admittedly, he was surprised when he found that instead of normally having the will to fight, the only thing on her mind was an escape by which she could possibly preserve her own life -- for that was what she seemed to feel was in danger. It was understandable. What else would she be thinking, seeing the man she had so apparently killed almost more than a year ago show up again and decide to follow her in a place like this? And what reason did he have for keeping her alive upon their reunion, anyway? Though he himself was unsure of the consequences that would result if he killed her, she was right to run; finally she saw that and did not challenge him. It was hard not to chuckle at the irony of it all that this time, she was his. Without a doubt, she was his.

It didn't seem right to him how before, her small, dainty stature seemed to defend itself so well against each puppet he wielded.

His power and tactics had obviously been difficult for her to overcome, but she still had nonetheless. Though she hadn't been alone last time, of course, he thought.

Now the clear sight of her tousled and matted pink hair only added to the image of her complete helplessness.

Now, there was no spirit -- no fire -- in those eyes.

God, her eyes. He remembered how in only the first mere instant of gazing into green how shocked, how intrigued, he had been at the amount he could already read from her. Though at the time it hadn't been so completely obvious as now, he knew, for who would really know so much about somebody by a simple glance?

They were two completely different people, in every single way. From the innocence in her appearance to the loyalty she held to her village; from the obvious comradeship she had with her teammates, to the simple fact that she fought for an opposite belief -- her justice, against a deadly and deceitful force: Akatsuki. At the very base of things, too, she was human...and he, an incomplete puppet, or perhaps just an incomplete human? He wasn't sure what to call a being who was still just below the reach of humanity and an empty shell at the same time. The fact remained that she was purely one thing, untouched, and he would never be -- could never be, for he had always considered himself a puppet regardless of his physical form or not. The non-human mentality he had acquired from being wooden and cold and numb for so long was something that he felt could not be altered.

Vaguely he had wondered why it even mattered that he had encountered someone so completely opposite of himself, and tried to justify his pursuing her. He had met and killed many people in the past, and none of them could even come close to being the slightest bit like him. They were all different; they were all equally opposite in comparison, in his eyes. What made this girl...more so? How could she be even more different than any of the others? Or perhaps, he even considered, there had been something -- only one thing, he decided out of his bruised pride -- that had been the same underneath all that was different, that he could only subconsciously notice in some far under-layer of his mind. Regardless, he still had reason to be in pursuit of her, hadn't he?

After all, it was her fault. His cold, wooden frame had not been cold to him, for coldness itself never used to feel like anything. Pain never crossed his mind as something possible, and in his puppet body he could at least allow himself to feel somewhat "immortal."

Until now.

Things weren't the same anymore. In his current state, he could feel the cold. He could feel the forgotten pain on the flesh he had been a stranger to for so long, and often only remembered what could hurt when it was too late and he was already paying for it with the blood that now ran, red and warm, through his veins.

She was the reason he was no longer "immortal."

Haruno Sakura.

She still hadn't realized that her hopes for a way out were futile. The way things were, there was no chance of escape for her, not at that moment anyway. They had all made sure of that. Smirking lightly, his garnet eyes took on a look of amusement, with only the faintest, slightest bit of insanity. She had always been amusing, the puppeteer recalled, though this was much different from their previous encounter. He hadn't had such power over her then; she hadn't been shaking nearly as much as she was now. He had caught up to her, and moments passed as he stared, and she stared too.

Silence.

Part of it, he guessed, was probably because she felt the end was coming and she was closer than ever now -- words had no real meaning, no importance. But how wrong she was, he thought. This was only the beginning, and now as the back of his hand brushed the unscathed side of her pale face in some type of mock affection he watched for any sign of emotion that might show, other than the dread that had so engulfed her to this point.

Complete shock. It was something very amusing to him indeed, with her eyes only slightly widened, but that didn't even begin to depict it. He was confused at the reaction for only a second until he realized the same thing she did. Her body froze over, her breath let out in one full expiration of surprise and suddenly there was no more shaking, no more trembling...no more running away. He had completely trapped her, if only for one moment, by the sheer lack of the chilling, solid, smooth wood that she had been ready for -- replaced by the light sensation of skin that did not belong to her, caressing her cheek.

He expected a blood-curdling scream. He expected her fear to be too much at this point, that she would lose consciousness altogether and faint from how incredibly real he just became to her. Heck, he even expected tears over what had just happened instead of the girl being two steps ahead of him, but that would have been too easy. It made no sense to him, but the fire must have suddenly returned and Sasori was not prepared for it as her fist shot swiftly upward.

Barely managing to gather any chakra she had left, Sakura punched him straight in the face that was wooden no more.