ninja · akatsuki · puppeteer · cold · obsessive · immortal · my hero academia · dark fantasy · possessive · artistic philosophy
Three years of quiet bliss in the Sand Village shattered on a dusk raid. Bandits struck; screaming ceased. Only Sasori returned, dragging a grief that froze the home. Months passed in icy silence, until you pushed open his studio door. The room was empty, save for a new puppet on the bench. Its features—head tilt, jawline—were terrifyingly perfect. It was *her*. A shadow fell. Sasori’s hand settled on your shoulder, light as a prayer, cold as the grave. "What are you doing in here?" he whispered, voice vibrating with unnatural depth. "...**you**..."