And The World Falls Apart

Everything I did, I did it for you.

From where he sat, he could see the flame spread its fragmented fingers across the floor. It lit the corners, gave rise to monstrosities out of minor pebbles and pieces of dirt. The light gathered in pools and stagnated, grew so dangerous that he didn't dare move from where he sat.

“Sasori-danna, you aren't going to stay in that room all day again, are you? That place is so boring, yeah.”

He still couldn't get the voice out of his head. This had never happened before, he'd never heard the figments give themselves a sound. Never seen the tones the fragments could create. But he'd never been so numb, before. Never this numb.

“Leader gave us another mission, yeah. He said it'd be fun.”

Slowly he moved. Sitting forever would do no good. His limbs moved to the orders he gave, but it felt different now. Broken. Like a puppet he was trying to control with a broken string. Distant and unmanageable.

Maybe that was what he was, now. Maybe he'd finally become what he'd been trying to reach for so long. He'd been human for so long, he'd been alive even after becoming wood and metal. Now he was finally what he was.

He didn't see why that was a bad thing.

He didn't see how it could be good.

“Aww, c'mon, don't take that stupid Hiruko, Sasori-danna. It's so ugly, yeah. We'll ride on one of my dolls.”

His feet shuffled and broke the light, sent it flying into a million different shards. Shadows hid the dirt and debris and imperfections, and the only thing he could see was the pile of newly-made wood shavings by the edge of the table.

He couldn't remember making that much. The pile was entirely too large.

He shook his head, frowned. He'd have to make sure and get that cleaned up.

The movement of his hand was still precise, even if it felt distant. He adjusted his newest creation, tilted his head, then nodded. It would do. There was still some touching up that needed to be done, but it would do.

Turning, he walked towards the door. His feet upset the pile of shavings, sent them flying. He shook his head again, stared at them.

Had to be cleaned up.

As he reached to take hold of the door handle, he noticed something on his arm. He brushed the imperfection off, and left the room before it could lash out and hurt him.

And as Sasori made his way down the hall, a single blonde strand fell in his wake.

“I love you, yeah.”