Konan heard the door to the room reserved only for the Akatsuki members in the Tower open, and with a slight surprise, she raised her head to look at who came back.

But seeing a short man fully covered in a black cloak with a hood covering his hair and face gave her pause as she tensed, preparing for a fight…

But a glimpse of red hair underneath the hood of the cloak stopped her short, and her lips settled in a frown. “Sasori?” She uncertainly asked with a confused look on her usually cold face, as if only half-sure of his identity, “You… are early.”

Despite her bland tone, her meaning was clear. She was asking him why the hell he was back when he was supposed to be on missions.

She knew something was wrong the second he didn’t show up while hiding in his Hiruko puppet. And unlike some of her other colleagues, Sasori took his missions seriously. So, something must have gone wrong.

Konan once again tensed up.

“The mission to assassinate the Suna Princess and the Konoha ninja who married her was a failure.” Sasori impassionately reported, straight to the point, as he abhorred wasting time.

“I see.” Konan slowly uttered, “Iwagakure will not like that.”

Nor will Nagato, for that matter. Or Tobi, the real one. War would be… convenient for their goals. Konan still hated it, and she hoped Nagato did, too. At least, he didn’t go himself to ensure the war truly broke out.

Thanks for small mercies.

“What happened? Was the Konoha shinobi too strong?” As far as Konan knew, he was supposed to be some sort of S-rank ninja? She didn’t know. She didn’t pay some nobody from Konoha much attention.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Didn’t he prevent Itachi and Kisame from apprehending the Sanbi or something? Years ago? What was his name again?

Ran, something?

“No.” Sasori answered in a dead tone, and as Konan stared into his dead stare, she couldn’t help but idly wonder if the man would have casually shrugged if he weren’t a living puppet.

“We were late.” For the first time, an ember of emotion intruded on Sasori’s tone and turned it full of distaste, “We met the ninjas from Kumo, whom we were advised would be our allies in this mission, while they were already attacking the target.” Sasori started, and Konan slowly nodded. As far as she knew, Sasori and Deidara wished to deal with the target before the Kumo ninjas showed up.

Apparently, that didn’t pan out.

“We did a standard ambush. It didn’t work. Our presence was revealed, the fight started, and the target managed to trick us into accidentally killing two Kumo Elite Jonin before disengaging.”

As she was listening to Sasori’s dispassionate report, Konan’s lips twitched. Ah, indeed. Iwa was not going to like this. At all. This was a proper, how did Hidan like to put it? A clusterfuck?

“So, you had to kill the last Kumo ninja.” She nodded in understanding. That was not ideal. But as long as Kumo stayed ignorant of who exactly killed their team, there should be no problem. Neither for Iwa nor Akatsuki.

“The last member was the Hachibi Jinchuuriki.” Sasori deadpanned, and Konan stilled.

Right. She could see how that could be a… problem.

Sasori took something out of his pocket and slowly threw it to Konan. Catching it, she opened her palm and saw an Akatsuki ring.

“Deidara died to his first bijuudama.” Sasori said in the same tone others would use to describe the weather.

He didn’t really care much about Deidara. Even if the kid liked to pester him with his fundamentally wrong belief about art and call him Sasori-no-Danna.

Somehow, it eluded the Iwa rogue ninja that Sasori didn’t have the normal human deficiencies of being able to make attachments. Human feelings were a weakness he shed long ago.

“The fool died the same way he lived. With a whimper covered by a bang that hid his usual incompetence as an artist.” He harshly commented, but there was no malice in it. Just a matter of fact description of what he believed.

Deidara might have been good at offense. Even good enough to earn himself that S-rank threat designation. But his defense was always poor. It was why everybody, maybe sans Hidan, could kick the kid’s ass in Akatsuki.

Some even with one or both hands tied behind their backs.

“I… see?” Konan half-sated, half-asked.

But no, she did not see. But that didn’t matter. What did matter was that Akatsuki had lost yet another S-ranked ninja. She could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.

S-rank ninjas did not grow on trees! Well, unless you were in Konoha.

“Excuse me.” Sasori said, clearly intending to leave the conversation here after he gave the bare minimum of details to her. Needless to say, he expected her to convey what happened to Pain, finding such a meaningless task as giving a report to his superiors a waste of his time.

“Many pieces of my puppet collection were destroyed by the enraged Hachibi Jinchuuriki. I will need a lot of time to rebuild it.” And there was yet another flicker of emotion behind his words that Konan could detect. This time, it was irritation. Even anger.

The same anger Konan noticed in him before he killed any poor guy who made him wait for something.

But before she could tell him that she was not his personal secretary, the man turned on his heel and walked off, causing Konan to sigh. Because, of course, she would now have to deal with this new problem.

Sometimes, she really hated this job.

…

As Sasori marched into his room, he felt… grim.

It took him his maximum effort just to survive against the fully manifested Hachibi Jinchuuriki. His puppets were devastated.

The Third Kazekage? Smashed to pieces, even if it did give Killer Bee a small pause.

His other puppets? Mostly sacrificed so he could run away. The only puppet that was not damaged was his own body, and even that was because he was not foolish enough to not recognize how outmatched he was.

Sasori knew his prowess the best. Fighting what basically amounted to an Eight-Tailed Bijuu was a hopeless endeavor for him. He didn’t have anything that could hurt it.

Maybe if he got a drop on the jinchuuriki before he ramped up all the way to a bona fide tailed beast, he could take him down. But afterward? It just wasn’t going to happen.

And it was good that he ran right away. The jinchuuriki gave chase, and it was in this chase that most of his puppets met their untimely end.

His eternal art turned out not to be so eternal, after all.

Sasori hated it. One day, he was going to kill the Konoha bastard who caused him to lose his dear puppets. Painfully. And then, he was going to make him into a puppet.

As a reminder.

Sasori entered his room slash workshop, only to find Zetsu already waiting for him there. He closed the door and gave the irritating plant an emotionless look that conveyed exactly how much he did not appreciate its presence.

“Ah! Sasori-senpai! I heard you have returned, so I decided to greet you!” The white part of the Zetsu cheerily said, only to be jerked to the side by its black counterpart when several poisoned senbon almost made it into a porcupine.

“What are you doing in my workshop?” The very unamused Sasori asked, controlling with his eyes if something was missing.

“Mou~! Don’t be like that, Senpai!” The white part of Zetsu pouted.

“We came bearing gifts.” The black part of Zetsu creepily stated and put two scrolls on Sasori’s work table. Before Sasori could check them, however, the Black Zetsu offered him another scroll. “I am sure this one will interest somebody like you the most.”

Sasori looked at the scroll, and without hesitation, he took it before opening it. “Edo Tensei?” He murmured, and as he read further, he found himself both fascinated and repulsed.

This wasn’t like his art. Yet, it was art.

One he disliked. But also one he couldn’t tear his eyes from.

Living puppets. This… was incomplete.

“Why give this to me?” He suspiciously asked the plant creature. The only one stupid enough in the Akatsuki ranks to trust him was Tobi. But Tobi clearly had some mental issues.

And when that came from the guy who turned himself into a literal puppet…

“Because we think you can complete it.” The Black Zetsu spoke.

“You fancy yourself a puppet master, after all!” The White Zetsu cheerily added, and Sasori had to resist an urge to rip him into two with an automatic saw.

“It will take time.” He dully said to the Black Zetsu part, ignoring its white counterpart, much to its chagrin.

“Indeed.” The Black Zetsu rasped, “Let’s hope the addition of this technique will make Akatsuki more capable of reaching its end goal.” He creepily grinned and sank into the floor.

Sasori, left alone in his room, looked again at the scroll in his hand and frowned. It was… an insultingly beautiful technique. It stood against everything he worked for throughout his life, yet the concept of puppeteering the dead appealed to Sasori far too much for him to throw the scroll away.

For now, he put it into a seal before turning toward the other two scrolls. Opening them, a cloud of smoke appeared around him, and when it dissipated, there were two bodies lying on his work table.

Sasori’s eyes widened, and he felt echoes of elation, glee, and astonishment in his core.

“These are…!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep