"Pervert?"
"No, Temari-san, aren't you projecting a little bit? I just paused to think for a second, and your brain immediately went into the gutter?"
Makoto was speechless at Temari's sudden accusation.
"I... if you understood what I meant, then your mind is just as dirty!"
"Oh."
"What do you mean 'Oh'?! You... wait a minute!"
Seeing Makoto about to walk away, Temari panicked.
Worried he might ignore her, she scrambled forward, grabbed his arm, and snatched the envelope back from his hand.
"I... uh... I 'accidentally' included a photo of myself that I 'accidentally' took."
"..."
Makoto stared at her.
He didn't expect Temari to actually take his casual joke about "just add one of yourself" seriously.
He'd only said it to prove he didn't have a GILF fetish.
Now she was clearly terrified that when Makoto flashed Granny Chiyo's swimsuit pics to the world, her accidental selfie would be part of the slideshow.
But seriously.
What kind of excuse was that?
She "accidentally" took a photo, then "accidentally" slipped it into a sealed envelope, and now "accidentally" remembered it?
Makoto suddenly felt a spike of fear.
Was she going to pull an "accidentally slipped in and fell into your bed" excuse later?
"Aren't you supposed to use the photos for business?! Why are you standing there like a statue? Hurry up! I'll only wait ten minutes!"
Temari seemed to realize her excuse was bad too.
She ripped her own photo out of the envelope, shoved the rest back into Makoto's hand, and practically pushed him away.
'Wow.'
'Planning to pretend none of that happened by refreshing the scene, huh?'
"Wait for me."
Dropping those two words, Makoto vanished from the spot.
Arriving at a hidden underground base in the village, Makoto found Sasori tinkering with his puppets.
"Something wrong?" Sasori didn't turn around or stop working and his voice was as flat and indifferent as ever.
"Nothing much. Just came to give you a suggestion."
"What suggestion?"
"Don't abandon your human emotions."
"...Boring."
"Listen to me. Without the shackles of emotion, absolute rational thinking does make things easier to solve. But absolute rationality doesn't equate to absolute correctness. Let me give you an example—"
At this point, even though Sasori didn't turn around, his hands stopped moving.
He was listening.
"A ninja received a divine blessing that could enhance two organs in his body. So, being a guy, he chose to enhance his 'little head' first, then his 'big head'."
"..."
"But he was afraid that if he enhanced his big head (his brain) too much, pure logic would tell him that the 'little head' (his pp) was a useless distraction, and he'd cut it off."
"..."
Sasori was speechless.
The logic wasn't wrong, but the analogy was crude as hell!
"If that's all you wanted to say, get out. Don't disturb me."
Sasori had long passed the age where he had a "little head" to worry about. He was 99% wood and 1% heart. He literally didn't give a damn what Makoto was talking about.
"You see? You're asking me to leave and finding my example outrageous precisely because you still possess human emotions."
Makoto smirked.
"If you were truly, absolutely rational, you would patiently listen to me, the Akatsuki strategist, until I finished my report. For example, let's change the scenario. If you were truly absolutely rational..."
Makoto paused for effect.
"If there was a chance to resurrect your parents right now, you would choose to give it up."
Crack.
The piece of puppet wood in Sasori's hand snapped in half.
And since this place was underground and dead silent, the sudden acceleration of Sasori's heartbeat was loud enough to hear. (did he have a heart to beat? or is that core thing in his chest beating? i genuinely forgot about this)
"Giving up... is the correct choice," Sasori said slowly, forcing himself to be calm. "Even if they could be resurrected, so what? In a Shinobi World filled with murder, being resurrected just means waiting for the next death."
"God, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were gonna go full psycho on me for a second there."
Makoto patted his chest dramatically.
Sasori: "?"
"What I mean is, you're right—the current Shinobi World is a mess. But isn't that exactly what we're working to change?"
Makoto leaned against the wall. "When the time comes that everyone can reunite with their families and have dinner together, will you still be clinging to your lonely puppet life? I can tell you, Sasori, you don't even need to wait for the otsusuki to show up. Even now, death and resurrection aren't exactly impossible."
"That 'hypothetical' I mentioned... isn't really just a hypothetical."
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
After a moment of silence, Sasori's tone softened. Just a fraction.
"Nothing much. Just want you to keep your humanity. As for the rest... I don't think I need to give you hints on how to improve your art."
Makoto shrugged.
Sasori's talent in puppetry was unquestionable.
Compare him to another "famous" Puppet Master like Kankuro.
That guy never built a puppet from scratch in his life—he just looted Sasori's dropped gear like an RPG character.
Yet, in the Infinite Tsukuyomi dream, Kankuro fantasized about building Gundam-style mecha puppets.
This proves that Puppet Masters don't lack inspiration—what they need is the technique to pull it off.
Compared to Ninjutsu, the Puppet Arts are undeveloped.
"Maintain humanity..." Sasori muttered.
"Alright, let's make a bet. I'll show you something. If you can't control your emotions when you see it, then you have to listen to me."
"...Fine." Sasori agreed.
"Here. Look at it yourself. I haven't checked the contents, so don't blame me."
Makoto tossed the envelope onto the workbench.
Sasori suspiciously pulled the photo out from the envelope, glanced at it, and immediately transformed his arm into a shredder, grinding the photo into fine pieces.
In this world where Chakra and souls exist, it was perfectly reasonable for someone with only a heart remaining to experience emotions and feelings without relying on hormones.
"What the hell is this?!!"
Sasori felt a jumble of conflicting emotions—anger, awkwardness, nostalgia ... mixed with a heavy dose of disgust.
"You lost."
Makoto glanced at the shredded paper on the floor.
Although he could use Crazy Diamond to restore the photo, there was absolutely no need for it.
Who the hell actually wants to see Granny Chiyo in a swimsuit? His eyes were actually saved by the shredder!
"This is a sacrifice made by an elder for a lost grandson. As you can see, you still have family in this world who cares enough to... do that. Now, I'll assign you a mission—one that suits your identity as a rogue ninja while also benefiting Sunagakure."
"Oh." Sasori gradually calmed down, his buzzsaws retracting. "Assassinating another Daimyo, is it?"
As Deidara's teammate, Sasori had listened to that blonde idiot brag endlessly about blowing up the Earth Daimyo's mansion.
He assumed the Water Daimyo got the same treatment.
"Correct." Makoto confirmed it.
The Land of Wind's Daimyo needed to go.
Among the Five Great Nations, that guy was the most reckless cheapskate.
It was surprising he had lasted until he become the third target—he'd gotten off easy.
"I'll take the mission." Sasori's expression remained blank, but inwardly, he sighed with regret.
Just like Deidara, he would have to kill the target outright. Keeping a Daimyo as a human puppet experiment would only invite rescue squads and political headaches.
What a waste of parts.
....
Amegakure Entrance.
After Sasori accepted the job, Makoto returned to the village gate.
He saw Temari standing there. She had insisted she would "only wait ten minutes," but she hadn't moved an inch even though way more time had passed.
Makoto walked up to her.
"Let's go home."
"Oh, alright—Wait, no! What 'home'?! Whose home?! What kind of nonsense are you spouting?!"
"...Temari-san, you really are overly sensitive, aren't you?"