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Deliberations of the Scorpion

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Sasori's jarring heartbeat echoed the soft sound of his feet hitting the moon-washed sand. The full moon shone bright as any artificial light and without their harsh heat.

He stood silent, steeling himself. In the silent night, doubts and questions seeped into his racing bloodstream, gnawing at the cavities of his mind.

He's the Kazekage…

Someone would notice…

You're only thirteen, you idiot…

Someone would find out…

What makes you think you stand a chance…

His small hands clenched; his mouth grew dry and filled with ash. The longing to return to his bed where all was safe and ordinary threatened to consume him.

Why was he even out there, anyway?

.x.X.x.

"If you want something, boy, you take it," Orochimaru asserted, an odd gleam in his eyes as his tongue flicked over his lips.

Sasori's eyes narrowed as he stared up at the Konoha nin. "You seem quite sure of yourself."

.x.X.x.

There was some impulse in him, some strange, disgusting primeval urge, and it was telling him to kill. Kill… Kill the Kazekage?

It wasn't voluntary, hardly even conscious at all, but it was there, it was rearing its head and it was demanding to be heard.

It had been growing in him for some time, like a dormant parasitic plant, creeping up a healthy tree until it was revealed that the tree's center was moldy and rotted, filled with maggots. Something nasty hiding inside of something nice.

Sasori wasn't even sure where the urge had come from, except that Orochimaru had had something to do with it.

.x.X.x.

"It is the only way to achieve power, Sasori-kun," Orochimaru assured him, his dry, quiet voice sinuously curving around the words. "There is no other way in this world more likely to give you what you want."

Sasori struggled not to shudder at the liberty Orochimaru took in referring to him with the familiar prefix –kun, before taking a moment to give a measured response. "And do you have power, Orochimaru-san?"

.x.X.x.

That man had had everything to do with it. Sasori didn't know whether to thank or curse the Snake Sannin for what he had awakened within him.

Now, thanks to Orochimaru, Sasori ever felt a need to test his abilities beyond safe limits that had been growing for two years ever since they last laid eyes on each other. It was a need, terrible and ugly, but so, so savagely beautiful.

But he wasn't really sure yet. Sasori couldn't be sure if it was a course of action that he could see through to the end, so he stood still, outlined against a twinkling sky, as his quarry moved further and further from him.

.x.X.x.

Orochimaru laughed, a dry, rattling, almost frightening sound. Sasori quailed inside. "Let me show you, boy."

Sulphur-yellow eyes snapped wide open within a second, and Sasori began to feel trapped. He had gambled with a Sannin, and he had lost.

.x.X.x.

He could be killed, he knew that. In all likelihood, the Kazekage would kill him.

But what if he did? Sasori cupped his chin in his hand, contemplating as the shadow of the large rock fell deeper about him.

If Sasori died, he really didn't care what happened to him. He would be dead, and he wouldn't have to worry about any of that anymore.

And he needed to do this. He needed to be strong enough to face him when the time came, and the Sandaime would excellently gauge his abilities.

A deep, rattling breath drew in and expelled over desert sands undisturbed. Sasori's heavy-lidded eyes opened unusually wide; his shoulders squared.

With stiff, soldier-like steps, Sasori began to walk.

.x.X.x.

His hands hit the ground first, then his knees. Then his lunch. Sasori gasped and choked on spittle and vomit, shocked beyond belief.

First, it was peacetime. Orochimaru should have known better than to use such a jutsu on another shinobi, whether from his own village or not.

Second, the whole experience had been beyond anything Sasori had ever known, even when he had been a test subject for a psychotropic drug to be used in warfare against the Leaf. He had had no idea that Orochimaru had possessed that sort of power.

And all the time, Orochimaru stood ever him, smirking triumphantly as if his ascendancy over an eleven-year-old meant something.

"Yes," Sasori whispered hoarsely. "I think I understand now."

.x.X.x.

Sasori soon picked out the Kazekage among the rocks. He was tall and well-muscled as most Sabaku men were, straight-backed and lean.

Sasori did not attempt to address the Kazekage first. That would give him too much time to formulate a defense to his attacks. He would instead attack him from behind; hopefully the Sandaime wouldn't have time to utilize his Iron Sand.

When the first puppet missed its mark, grazing his shoulder instead of stabbing him in the back with a poison-dripping lancet, the Sandaime whipped around, snarling.

For a moment, shock made his dark eyes widen and the crow's feet around them stretch in unbelievable ways, before the eyes of the Sandaime narrowed, his snarl resumed and he readied himself for an attack.

He was alone, utterly alone, in the vast wilderness with naught for company but one known to sting. Hard.

Sasori moved in for the kill.

He moved like a madman, twisting and turning, glittering strands of sapphire chakra glowing like stars in the darkness. He went on relentlessly, puppet after puppet emerging, sometimes utilizing up to five at a time, and only when he realized that it was not his blood flying through the air did he stop.

.x.X.x.

"When we meet again, I'll be ready." It was not bluster, nor a boast, but calm, flat statement of fact.

Orochimaru laughed. "I look forward to it."

.x.X.x.

Sasori did not feel euphoria, dysphoria or exhaustion of any fashion as he stared at the long, broken body at his feet. He felt blank, numb. It seemed so anticlimactic somehow, like he hadn't been expecting to reach that sort of conclusion.

I've finally done it…I can't believe I really did it…I've killed the Kazekage.

But he didn't know why.

Then, a wild panic filled him. Sasori had to leave, he had to get back before someone noticed he was gone. He sealed the body; he would alter it later.

As though the legions of Hell were chasing after him, Sasori raced back along unknown trails and paths to the place of ordinary conformity, his scarlet hair leaking blood-red into his moon pale skin.

When he got back into bed, Sasori didn't have to wait long before a dull roar was opened on Sunagakure.

He pulled the covers closer about him, and tried not to think about it.

.x.X.x.

Sasori folded his wooden arms around his chest, glad he had decided to forsake Hiruko for that occasion. The red clouds embellished on his black cloak fluttered like crimson cotton balls caught in the wind.

He smirked nastily as Orochimaru's eyes met his. You wanted this, Sasori gloated internally as Orochimaru walked towards him. You wanted this, Snake Sannin, and now you have it. Come and see what I have learned since we last met.

Orochimaru looked startled for a moment, before tipping his head back and laughing his sibilant, eerie laugh.