Chapter Text
Sakura and Chiyo’s battle against Sasori had begun long before the time the sun had peaked, the heat taunting her lack of feature in the fight till late afternoon. The pinkette was sweating, though not from indulging in offense attacks, but defence. Of course, enacting a human puppet for Chiyo was the puppeteer’s own assault. All Sakura did was dance to her master’s tune. She was inadequacy personified, simply observing her enemy’s movements without assisting her more experienced ally against the rogue assassin. Since Sasori had revealed the mystery of the disappearance of the third Kazekage, Sakura seldom landed hits. Hidden by puppets, she hardly grasped onto proper details of his actual physical body, aside from that he was rather short with messy, maroon hair.
The younger medic watched Chiyo engage in numerous fights, most of which were initiated by the elder. “Do not give him time to observe weakness.” She warned, conscious of Sakura’s stagnation. She manipulated herself into believing she stood on his ground, his territory. That nothing she did would matter. She would not fool herself into comparing herself to his calibre. “Sakura, watch out!” Chiyo moved in time to extinguish the fire created by one of Sasori’s lesser puppets. “Keep your mind in the game!” Chiyo scolded, concern painting her small features. Sakura sighed in relief, the redhead unamused at her slackness. To humiliate her further, he chuckled a deep, monotonous timbre. His eyes remained passive on his grandmother. Sakura was an unworthy foe.
“You fight a pointless battle, old woman” he was bored. Chiyo squinted her dark eyes, alert for his next offense. “Don’t be a coward, Sasori. Although you have always considered bonds a weakness.” She retorted. Chiyo knew her grandson was maneuvering to a fault. After the death of his parents, his lack of boundaries assisted him in creating human puppets to keep them forever, or so he claimed. Sakura deduced his weakness was the lack of boundaries with his own emotions. Yet, he had seemed to master the art of psychopathy. Perhaps she was wrong, and he was a true puppet. Either way, she refused to lose to someone who hated his humanity.
Sakura initiated the next attack. A simple, but powerful punch into the ground, charged in his direction. To her dismay, Sasori’s gaze did not avert his grandmother. Was he underestimating her? Without shifting his attention onto her, Sasori commanded a string of puppets towards her, including the third Kazekage. Dodging the third’s first attack, she broke two puppets simultaneously, leaving the puppet master two less marionettes to control. Predictably, the Kage charged at her. Sakura withdrew three kunais out of her possession, only to have them stolen using a magnet manipulation technique. The thievery was bloody, grazing her index fingers down to her upper forearm as trophy of her futile attempt at a strike. If Sasori preferred to get dirty, she would happily oblige.
Dodging the third Kazekage’s barrel of weaponry, Sakura concentrated her chakra into her elbow and slammed it into the Kage, dealing a harsh blow to the puppet. She allowed herself quick observations at Chiyo’s battle. Sasori had been fighting her using his parents – Chiyo’s family. For a moment, Sakura felt respect for his tact. It was shameless, but what shame had a puppet master?
Catching Chiyo off guard, Sasori himself lunged at his grandmother, blades ready at his disposal. Judging by his speed, Sakura envisioned a possibility where Chiyo wouldn’t be able to evade him in time and so, found herself running towards the elder. Sasori got there first. Searching for a weak point, Sakura grabbed the ropes falling outside his body and pulled in a tug of war. He must have realised his strength in comparison to hers, so let himself fall, stabbing his blades into Sakura’s stomach, while she punched his. The younger female choked, coughing up blood. A blow for a blow. Sasori side eyed her, annoyance evident in his lazy eyes. “The little girl fights.” He taunted, disgusted at how naturally Sakura defended his grandmother. “Sakura – what did you do?” Chiyo stuttered, recognising the depth of her wound. She rushed over to her, healing her stomach with Ninjutsu. “Lady Chiyo, your face.” Sakura choked, wiping the purple blood from her face. “It’s poison.” She finished. If the blade had scratched Chiyo before Sakura was stabbed, that meant Sakura too, had been contaminated by the puppet master’s lethal iron poison.
“You’re as good as dead.” He informed, returning to his stoic composure. During her training as a medic, Sakura had heard of Sasori’s toxins. He was infamous for using high concentrations of metals to poison the human body – like a true scorpion of the red sands. “He’s right. The poison will paralyse and then kill us in three days if we don’t use the antidote.” Chiyo gasped, weakened by the poison. All it took was a small dose, Sakura gathered. She recalled Tsunade’s lessons on how to counter potent toxins such as those from the Sand Village. As a medic, Sakura was aware of her limitations in battle. She knew her position was as the team’s support and lifeline, so had packed essential herbs, knowing well of their trip into the Sand Village. She debated the combinations she could use to counter the poison in her system. Tomoshiri grass was a good remedy to detox the body of poison, but she was unsure on the dosage required.
Maintaining her eyes on Sasori, Sakura shifted herself discreetly, so her bag was out of his sight. Luckily, Sasori was more interested in his grandmother and so, retreated. It appeared that the poison would do its job and finish them off. He need not indulge them further. The young medic’s hands skimmed for the correct liquid in her bag. She had smaller doses of other poisons, but needed the Tomoshiri grass, which was olive in colour. Upon locating it, Sakura glanced at Sasori once before injecting her wrist. She needed to inject Chiyo before Sasori discovered her. Sakura played her part, falling backwards with a weak grunt. No matter that she injected a cure for his poison – she’d been stabbed in the stomach. She tried to heal herself for both show and effect. Sasori witnessed the fight in her, so wouldn’t buy her lack of enthusiasm.
Minutes had passed and Sakura waited for Sasori to let his guard down. Chiyo had apologised for failing him, for lacking as a grandmother. For failing to avenge his parents. She had let Sakumo Hatake – the murderer of his parents – escape after years of hunting him down. Sakura observed Sasori’s face for signs of emotion, specifically hurt, but was met with annoyance. “The human flesh is weak. Mortal. Emotional.” Sasori spat, moving his hands beneath his gaze. “How thrilled was I to discover I, too, could be a puppet. That I could live forever without feeling.” He elaborated, cringing at the last word. Sakura felt a wave of nausea flood her. Her strong suit was the bonds she’d made. Her feelings. Of course, there were times when she wished she felt nothing at all. Feelings relating to unrequited love, a bond that pained her more than it soothed her. “I’d rather feel pain than nothing.” Sakura whispered. His audacity appalled her. If he wished to feel nothing, so be it.
Sakura chuckled; a sound too venomous to be hers. “You claim to feel nothing yet desire immortality.” She titled her face down, pink threads following the motion and falling over her face. There was a long pause. “Keep talking, little girl. You’re only quickening the poison.” Sasori mused, ignoring her previous words. Sakura pushed her arms against the closest rocks to stand tall. Furrowing his eyebrows, the redhead watched her movement, expressions relaxing to nonchalance. “Interesting.” He declared calculatedly. He must have figured she created an antidote. Mustering her energy, Sakura raced towards him, forcing him to string his parents’ puppet to halt her movement. Sensing her hesitation in breaking them like she had done the rest, Sasori stilled, disconnecting his strings to deploy his own body onto the field. He grunted, flying around her before releasing fire through one of his closest puppets. Sakura crouched, barely dodging the burns before punching Sasori’s living heart.
Before the impact of her assault, Sasori had readied his parents’ puppets between her, causing her to stumble back. His mother was ready, piercing her stomach once more. Sakura fell onto her knees, arms supporting her as she coughed up more blood. The medic crawled towards Chiyo, who had passed out from the poison’s effects. A little more, she thought, dragging her bruised body to Chiyo. Reaching for the antidote in her bag, Sakura hurriedly injected Chiyo with her last dosage. “Please.” She begged, monitoring the elder’s Chakra using her own.
“Tenchi Bridge, Village Hidden in the Grass.” Sakura jumped at the soft sound of Sasori’s echoes. His back was limp against a nearby taupe wall, blood decorating his mouth. “What?” she blinked, slanting her head in his direction. “I have a spy amidst Orochimaru’s lackies – he’ll be there.” He finished. Before Sakura could respond, Chiyo grabbed her hand. “Don’t believe him.” Tears threatened to cluster around her eyes at the phrase. That was her only family left. A member of the Akatsuki, but her grandson, nonetheless. She met Sasori’s bored gaze. He was still, expressionless. Sakura was the only conscious person on the battlefield.
She sat there for a long time. It was raining by the time she had regained herself. “Sakura?” Chiyo huffed, grabbing onto her. Assisting her, the medic placed the elder’s arm over her shoulder and wrapped her own around her back. “Is he…?” Chiyo started, hunting for Sasori. Sakura thinned her lips, a small nod before silence. “It is for the better.” She responded. The pink haired girl followed her eyes to the limp man. The world wasn’t black and white. Nobody was born a hero nor a villain – not even an Akatsuki.