It really was such a shame to have to kill the boy. [Tones of yaoi]
Warnings: Some spoilers. Drabble. Yaoi-ish(tame but the implications may scar some). This fic finally made me realize that: Yes, I am a truly perverted person, and I'm loving every minute of it! Don't really like it? Then don't read, I have no pity for you if you do.
Notes: This was written well before Sasori was revealed to be a cutie himself, back when he was though to look like an old man. Read 251 and my mind stopped functioning and went to a bad, bad place when Sasori called Kankuro a "cute youngster."
Such a cute kid. Sasori chuckled as the young puppeteer glared weakly up at him. It was a shame he'd had no chance against him.
The black garments and face paint was something Sasori hadn't seen in far too long. When he'd defected from the Sands so long ago the puppet troupe had been at it's peak. The hidden Sands had been infamous for their dual performances on missions and on stage. Sadly the times had changed and Sasori knew how rare it was for a shinobi to take to the path of a puppeteer now.
For this young one to fight him so well, with puppets made by Sasori's own hands no less, spoke highly of his dedication and skill. The boy groaned softly his head falling weakly onto the ground as he struggled to maintain conciousness. Sand stuck lazily to the blood streaked purple lines. Sasori was already mourning his death. He had the dreadful feeling that the boy would have been a legend in his own right had he the chance to grow up.
The control neccessary to wield three puppets was something few experienced puppeteers could do easily. The boy had manged it with an ease and fluidity that made Sasori dearly wish he could have seen some of his performances in the theater. Dark eyes slid closed as the boy passed out. He was much cuter without the pained snarl marring his face.
A true tragedy. Sasori wished he could have been in that theater. Watching the puppets move so fluidly across the stage that no one in the audience could believe they weren't real people walking the stage. A truly epic play so entrancing no one would notice the figure in black pulling invisible strings.
Completely unoticed by the audience the young puppeteer would ignore them as well, all attention on the performance. Body graceful as he danced with his puppets controlling everything. Then Sasori would have wished to be at least ten years younger. Young enough to slip behind the curtains at the end and catch the cute boy alone. The urge to smudge those straight purple lines overwhelming him.
Sasori sighed regretfully and turned away. He rather hoped the Sand nin that were quickly closing in would find a cure for his poison. It would be such a waste of talent for the cute kid to die. Perhaps, if he survived, Sasori could still see him perform on a day when he didn't feel quite so old.