Note: I suppose there are some things to consider before reading this. Firstly, this is obviously an alternate ending to Sasori and Sakura's battle. Here, Deidara blows up the cave, ending the battle early. At the time that I wrote this, I knew little about the Akatsuki and the future of Naruto universe. There will be no mention of war in this story. Sorry if there is confusion, but please bear with me! If you have not read the original Puppetress, it will still be available on my page but is not necessary to read this story. This story will be vastly different in terms of ambience in respect to its original. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this story, and I would love to hear your feedback!

Puppetress – Chapter 1

Plushie

Although I was never praised in the past for being "bright" per se, never did I believe I was "stupid". I always modestly considered myself to be an average person. With no particular weaknesses existed no particular strengths or abilities. People questioned it; some fancied that something about me was "off". However, growing up the happy, normal child I had, I never attempted to change. Why fix what was not broken?

Despite my past normalcy, on a cool summer day, I found myself… Lost? Lost would be the term. It was not the "being lost" that obliterated my past ways, but rather, what became from being lost…

I did not realize how fast I was running until my ankle was caught on some bramble and I was sent hurling to the ground. I grunted as I fell, hearing the rustle of leaves as I landed right into a bush. Frustrated, I scrambled to escape its clutches, rising to my full height and brushing off any twigs and other residue, face flushed from running, and, sadly, embarrassment.

I was not sure how I was going to explain my long absence to my parents, who simply thought I was going out for a walk.

But after walking for almost an hour through the forest, something changed. I had walked through the forest many times in my life, ever since I was a child. Never had I gotten so lost. It was foolish of me, at my age, to accuse geography of inexplicably moving and casting illusions around me, but considering how lost I was, somehow, I did not doubt it.

I continued walking. Where to, I was not sure. But somewhere, I was bound to run into someone.

I saw the edge of the forest. Or, rather, what I believed to be the edge of the forest. My stomach flipped at the thought. I found myself jogging, despite my fatigue. When I reached the "edge", I saw before my eyes not a river, nor a village, but a cave. A deep, ominous cave that I had never seen in my life. The entrance was fantastically large, and there were shallow pools of water surrounding its opening.

Incredibly distressed, I found myself collapsing into a crouch. I closed my eyes. It seemed that I was even more lost than I had been, suddenly stumbling upon some arbitrary cave.

Hope, however, was not lost when I heard distant voice. Yelling, but a voice nonetheless. My head jerked up. My eyes flew open like saucers. Had I been imagining it?

"Stand back, Sakura!" a woman's voice. Not the same voice I heard before.

Voices, definitely voices, coming from within the cave.

For several moments, I debated my courage. My eyes trained towards any other option—I could just bypass the cave. I could wait until the people came out. But as I looked towards the sky, seeing how high the sun had risen while I was gone, it reminded me that I did not have much time to waste.

Desperate times call for desperate measures? Although I could not say I was "desperate" to get home, I was, in fact, "desperate" to at least not be lost.

That in mind, I wandered into the cave.

My earlier predictions had been correct. The cave was vast. Although from the outside looking in, the darkness seemed to stretch forever. As I walked cautiously through the cave, my eyes adjusted, and I realized that, further beyond what I could tell from the outside, there was some sort of… light area…

I did not drop my guard, I continued following the walls of the cave, hearing my own sandals as they crunched over pebbles on the rock flooring. As I neared the "light area", I saw shadows cast against the wall. Three figures.

I caught wind of a scent. I had not realized how sensitive my nose was, but the aroma was simply pungent at the time.

The smell of fresh blood.

Before I could react, my hand had run over something sharp, I hissed in pain, glancing at the wound. My palm had a long, thin cut. Clean, but still leaking with blood.

In addition to this… the entire hand began to go numb. I panicked, despite myself. I began running, almost blindly towards the light.

Soon after my arrival, I wished that I had just turned around and avoided this cave altogether.

A fight scene! I had been caught in the middle of a skirmish, it seemed. Two women versus a big, bulky character in a red cloud-spangled cloak. I narrowed my eyes. Somehow, he seemed familiar. No doubt all three were shinobi, however, this man…

I had not been making a spectacle of myself. I had just stood there, dumbly, slowly processing the magnitude of the situation I had literally walked into. Three sets of eyes were on me. For once in my entire life, I was the center of attention. I shrunk beneath their stares. This was no quarrel. This was no argument. This was full-blown bloodshed. Something a civilian like myself had never scene.

I wordlessly stumbled back, clutching my numbing arm. It was spreading to my shoulder. My heard pounded loudly—if whatever poison was on that needle spreads to my chest, will my major organs stop functioning?

When I looked up, needles were headed my way. I squeezed my eyes shut. But no pain came. The girl, who was several yards away from me, had somehow… deflected the attack?

"Chiyo-baa-sama!" the young girl looked questioningly to her companion. Her look screamed what do we do with her?

"I can handle Sasori for now," responded the elderly woman. I had not realized the brilliant blue strings that extended from her fingertips… leading to two large puppets.

…Puppets?

The pink-haired girl materialized by my side. It had barely been a minute, but I was already feeling incredibly faint, already collapsed on the ground from exhaustion. She seemed to pick this up right away. My vision hazed, I could not see exactly what she was doing. I did, however, catch the glimpse of a glowing green light, some form of what smelled like disinfectant being liberally applied to where the wound had been. In moments, I found myself recovering.

Vision returned, I sat up. I regarded the hand that I had injured, to find it was completely intact, skin and all. As though it had just been… regenerated? And the poison that once flowed through my veins in attempt to paralyze me, its effects were completely diminished.

"Amazing…" I breathed.

The girl did not bother with preamble, "What are you doing here, onee-san?"

"I"—

She barely gave me time to respond, "You must leave, now!"

As though on cue, the floor rumbled as something came crashing down into the rock.

That thing had a tail. I shuddered, suddenly frozen with fear.

I could not bring myself to stand. The girl looked at me, hopelessly. But that thing was coming for us. With no other option, the girl grabbed me by my forearm, and leapt behind the old lady. She braced me as we landed, helping me into a comfortable position propped against the wall.

"Onee-san, please stay here. We will protect you," she affirmed, offering a weak smile, but quickly turning to face her opponent. I could not get a word in, after all.

The ominous figure that they were facing. Something about him exuded an aura that was inhumane. This hunched, round fellow in the cloak had a tail, for God's sake.

"I am your opponent, Sasori!" the pink-haired girl told him vehemently.

Sasori?

A tossed needle. In my direction.

A flash of blacks and reds.

The last thing I saw were the shocked expressions from both the pink haired girl and the old woman. I found myself losing consciousness, fast. My whole body felt heavy as lead.

But I never hit the ground.

"That was unnecessary."

"Saved your ass, didn't I, un," muttered a disgruntled man. My eyes cracked open. The sun had long set, and it was evening. The cold suddenly washed over my skin, sending pricks down my spine. I lay dormant beneath a tree, and somehow no matter how forcefully I summoned my nerves, I could not budge.

I could barely focus on the two figures that spoke. Two lean men stood face to face, both wearing identical cloaks.

"Did you capture the jinjuuriki?"

"Of course I did, un!" the same annoyed tone rebuked again. "He's unconscious on the bird, un." Suddenly, he sneered, "And what do you have to show from today's excursion?"

A threatening tone, "Watch your tongue, brat."

A snort, "We finished unexpectedly early. What are you plans, Sasori-no-danna?"

I found my heart racing. Sasori?! I had been abducted? Why? What for?

I could not move to get a better view of the men that were speaking. I could do nothing but eavesdrop on their conversation. But now… both men spoke in hushed, urgent tones. Within moments, the gruffer of the two dismissed himself. I heard large wings flap, and felt a gust of wind that pressed me hard against the trunk.

I could barely catch a glimpse of a large, white bird that ascended into the night sky.

Crazy. That was the only word that came to mind, for the entire situation. Not a bad description, definitely the most accurate.

I swallowed, wishing I could scream, thrash, run away…

But whatever he did to me, it was working. I was completely helpless.

I watched as the cloaked figure busied himself. I could not discern what he was doing. However, this "Sasori" was a lot smaller than the previous one in the cave.

Why?

This Sasori took the appearance of a young man. He had short, mussed red hair and heavy-lidded eyes. His skin was fair, his jaw angled. Handsome, despite his nature.

At least I had to grudgingly admit that.

Sasori finally averted his attention to me. His expression was lacking, to say the least, but amusement danced in his eyes. Or was I imagining it? He was scrutinizing me. I wanted to fidget, but rendered motionless I could do nothing but sit still under his unwavering gaze. It was though he was undressing me. The thought made me fume—for the amount of time I had been unconscious, God knows what he could have done to me.

"You're conscious." He said simply. Sasori walked over to where I was, kneeling down directly in front of me. Apparently, villains were unfamiliar with the concept known as personal space.

He examined everything about me. He examined my arms, seemed to be taking in account my height, my legs. I wanted to spit at him. Despite the fact that he was openly surveying my body, it did not feel like he was womanizing me. There was nothing perverted about the way he was looking. In fact, he looked like he was a scientist observing his specimen.

It was creepy.

"You must be wondering why I've spared your life."

I wanted to gag. Spare my life? I would have preferred death over this.

Whatever this was.

"After my battle, my puppets have become…" he looked like he had swallowed something bitter, but was too polite to spit it out, "…Incapacitated." He enunciated the word like a teacher would to a five-year-old. The sentence hung uneasily in the air.

What did any of this have to do with me?

"As a result, I will need reinforcements. Of course, repairing the puppets would be most practical. But unfortunately," he smirked lopsidedly, ironically to himself, "They have been completely demolished. There is nothing to repair."

Again, nothing to do with me. I could not help but feel increasingly agitated by his presence. The way he lingered so closely to my face, and seemed to find nothing wrong with it. It made me uncomfortable more than his actual nearness.

"I recognize that you are not a shinobi." This statement came apparently out of nowhere. "However, at times like these…"

He trailed, as though for dramatic effect.

"I suppose I have no choice."

I swallowed. I felt some control over my vocal chords. "W-What…"

"My art, amongst many things… lasts forever."

"H-How so…" I found myself humoring him. He seemed pleased, at least, that I was asking about his art.

"You will be a puppet… you will be art," he sounded like he was talking about a deity.

I was in shock, though I could hardly express it. Perhaps it was better that I couldn't. Somehow I had the feeling that if he were able to my reaction to this news that he would be all the more hasty in actually going through with it.

"Art… huh…" those were the only words that passed my lips. There were a million more things I could have said.

Of course my mind was in turmoil at the time. Despite being flustered over this handsome man's proximity, the thought of becoming a puppet—a human puppet. Skin that never rotted, no organs, no emotions, no feeling. Nothing. I would be dead, but preserved. I have heard of such a phenomenon, of humans being turned into puppets. I have heard tale of a genius that turned his parents into puppets, and then became a criminal.

Of course, it was highly likely that these stories were about none other than the mysterious man that was before me. Sasori.

"Hm," Sasori had been watching me.

I tried my hardest to appear unabashed, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I was going to die.

I could have cried then. In fact, I probably should have. Perhaps it would have prevented the conversation that ensued following my silence.

"You seem to wish for death, brat."

The derogatory name caught my attention almost as much as his statement did. I had not expected that. I responded weakly, "I just don't think there's… there's any p-point resisting…"

He quirked a brow.

I wanted to kick him away, but my muscles did not allow it. I was tense. I tried to relax. Exhaling, I continued, "Y-You have already won."

"Yes, I have."

"So w-what would the point be… in resisting. To make my death come sooner?" I found myself spitting out the words.

"You're only feigning bravery then?"

"If that means spiting you," I responded darkly. I shrank instantly at the heavy glare that he rested on me soon afterwards. He leaned in close—so close that our noses nearly touched.

"Don't test my patience, brat," he growled. If I hadn't known better, I would have swore I saw fangs beneath his lip.

Foolish, foolish me.

I chose not to respond to him either way, deciding that I had made enough conversation for the evening.

Despite the lack of response, his face remained close to mine. I shifted uncomfortably, but found my back firmly pressed against the tree. The bastard had me caged in. Feeling utterly violated, the only thing I could do at the moment was look away. Ignore him, by all means. But for what seemed like an eternity, he stayed there.

When I finally looked at him again, he was fretting himself over the contents of his pouches. Needles, vials of what an optimist would call medication, and other trinkets and tools.

A deliberately scratched Sunagakure shinobi headband. My mind raced. Sasori was a missing nin. Of course he was.

I regarded my appearance. Shorts and sweater all mangled, ripped in places, and dirtied with mud and splotches of blood. I did not want to know whose blood it was. My hair—long and red as it was—was also covered in what seemed to be excrement.

Anger stirred. I felt my entire body heat up, despite the cold night. I was uncomfortable, helplessly lost, stolen…

And this young man would be my murderer.

Note: I do not own Naruto, reviews are love!