They all fall into place.
Sasori squinted in a garden chair in the front yard of his estate. He had done very little work these past few days, even though he had planned on leaving… He knew that he would leave this place, yet he had been too focused on what to pack, what to leave, and what to destroy…
He knew he would leave in good time, so he felt no motivation to rush.
He closed his eyes… Kanae’s face flashed in his mind’s eye, as it often had these past few days.
It was currently the only time in his memory, when he had seen her truly angry…
He blinked. “No, you were angry in front of me many times before,” he said softly as the realization dawned on him. “But you hid it splendidly Kocho Kanae… That time when I stopped you from attacking Muzan, was the first time you failed to do it.”
For a split second, a smirk came across his lips. “Even someone like you was human… truly pathetic.”
“Thank you for everything Sasori-san, And please be careful. I still want to talk with you more when this is all over.”
The words she had said to him after he prevented her from facing Muzan, immediately after she had calmed down, now played involuntarily in his mind.
Sasori’s head fell lazily. “Its a shame you died, I wonder what you would’ve said to me…” He closed his eyes, and felt the unwelcomed sensation of sadness swirl in his chest again… that sensation of something foreign in the body, that was impossible to expel.
His eyes fluttered closed again, and he slowed his breathing to relax his body again, when he sensed a familiar presence approaching. Sasori opened his eyes for the final time, but he said nothing, and did not even look Shinobu’s way as she settled herself a few paces behind him.
"Sasori-san…” she began. “Nee-san’s funeral wake is soon." Her voice was soft, weighted with sadness. "I know this may be… difficult, but I want you to come."
Sasori remained silent, and remained in his chair with his back turned to her. “Why do you want me to come?” he asked.
“You're grieving,” Shinobu said. “You… you tried to save her…” her voice was calm, but carried the subtle strain of someone who had been crying a lot lately… “Kanao-chan told me what happened as she waited for the Kakushis with you. I know that you’re in pain too. Thats why… thats why I want you to come…”
Sasori remained seated with his bac facing his former student. He let a few moments pass, waiting for Shinobu to either say something else, or leave, but she did neither. He took a deep breath. “I’ve never been to a funeral before,” he finally admitted.
Shinobu looked up at him. His red hair seemed to float in the faint wind, his gaze facing away from her… she didn’t need to see his eyes to know that they were unseeing. “My parents died when I was young,” he continued. “But you already know that. What you didn’t know is that my grandmother kept it from me... even when it was obvious, when it was an open secret in the house, and she knew full well that I knew, she never admitted it.”
Shinobu felt it now dawn on her, as though she did not recognize the picture on the puzzle she was looking at, until finally, the last piece was found, and made everything suddenly clear.
She had spent so long, trying desperately to understand Sasori, and now that she finally had that simple missing piece, the realization was sudden, and painful…
The realization as to why he had no appreciation for life and death until now… the realization that for someone like Sasori, trying to understand his own grief was like trying to grasp smoke. Deep down, Kanae’s aura, as someone who always saw the best in people, someone who always wanted to understand others no matter how horrible they were, or how they had hurt her, someone who was always ready to forgive, welcome, and listen… even though Sasori had never sought Kanae’s help, he must have understood that in her; he always had that someone whom he could have been forgiven by if he wanted.
She realized that Sasori did not even realize himself… He did not realize what he had lost by losing Kanae, and yet, he felt it.
Sasori’s eyes widened slightly as Shinobu’s face crumpled, her breath hitching before she buried her face in her hands. His shoulders tensed. His mouth twisted into a grimace as cold words nearly escaped him by instinct—but for once, he held them back.
Slowly, stiffly, he rose from his chair. He took a step toward her, then stopped. His hands hovered at his sides, fingers curling as if grasping at something unseen. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.His gaze flickered to her black kimono, to the way her shoulders shook beneath the fabric. Her hair, usually adorned with that delicate butterfly ornament, was held back only by a simple black ribbon. That detail—so small, yet so stark—made something tighten deep in his chest..
For a fleeting second, his hand twitched, almost reaching out. But what was he supposed to do? Pat her on the shoulder? The mere thought of it made his throat want to close up.
He let his arm fall back to his side, his fingers curling into a loose fist.
“I’ll go with you to the wake,” he finally said.
He didn’t know why he thought that would make her stop crying.
***
Shinobu had walked this path many times before, on her way home from lessons with Sasori. Now, Sasori walked next to her. The two of them walked slowly. They were not late for the wake. “Will the others have their funerals later?” He asked.
“Nee-san’s body was the only one that was recovered from the infinity castle” Shinobu answered simply. There was no change in her voice, but Sasori noticed how her body shook when he said this.
“Sasori-san” she continued, as though confessing “… I've always managed to control my emotions well… ‘only immature people can't control their emotions.’ all my life I've had such little control over anything else, so I was proud of myself for how I could smile and speak softly when I wanted to scream. I told demons that I would've liked to become friends with them, even though I knew it was absurd, but because it was Nee-san’s dream I was able to…” she hiccuped, and her eyes filled with tears. “Why can I no longer stop myself?”
Sasori looked down thoughtfully.
The puppets lay on the floor behind him. The puppets he had made to resemble his parents… Chiyo had caught him, using them to embrace him.
“You should not use puppets like this,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “These are tools for a puppet master, not toys.”
Sasori said nothing, his face blank as he stared at his work.
“Yes, Chiyo-baa-sama” he replied respectfully.
He waited for her, in this moment, now of all times, to come clean that his parents were dead.
He knew the truth.
He knew that she knew that he knew the truth.
And yet, she still refused to tell the truth.
From that moment onward, he hated her.
“You don't need to stop yourself,” he finally told Shinobu. “You need to mourn. If you don't let yourself do it now, you may never be able to do it again”
Shinobu let out a soft ironic chuckle, “And then I would be as bad as you, Sasori-san?” The moment those words left her mouth, she regretted it.
“I'm not worried about you becoming like me,” Sasori said evenly. “I'm more worried about what you'll do now that the demons are all dead. I know how hot the rage within you burned, and now that rage is replaced by sadness. When this morning. Is over, move on from it and live like a normal girl.”
Shinobu hesitated, choosing her words carefully this time. “What if I wanted to continue learning from you? Sasori-san?”
“We'll discuss that later,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. As they neared the gate of the butterfly mansion, Sasori noticed that Shinobu walked with slightly less poise than usual, almost as though she was dizzy, but he chalked it up to a side-effect of grief, and said nothing.
No sooner had Shinobu passed the threshold did Sumi, Kiyo, Naho, and Aoi run to her and clung to her, the smaller hands of the younger ones grasping at the fabric of her black kimono. Their sobs rose in uneven gasps, the kind that made one’s chest shake uncontrollably. They buried their faces against her, and before Sasori could even discern a reaction from her, Shinobu's face was buried in the embrace of the group, her wailing mingling with theirs.
Across the room, Kanao sat stiffly beside Tanjiro, her breathing shallow, her forehead damp with sweat. Her wide, glassy eyes flickered to Shinobu—then, all at once, something in her broke.
A sound slipped from her throat, raw and fragile, before it unraveled into a sob. She stumbled toward Shinobu, and Tanjiro released her with quiet understanding.
The moment Kanao reached her, she collapsed into her arms, gripping at the folds of her kimono as if she could anchor herself to it, and sobbed into Shinobu’s shoulder with a grief that had been too long contained.
Shinobu held her. No words passed between them. There was nothing to say.
Sasori stood at the threshold, watching.
Kanao’s crying seemed to go on forever. Sasori recalled someone once saying with concern, that Kanao couldn't cry.
He remembered how she trembled and sweat when Shinobu was kidnapped, but could not shed a tear.
Now, in Shinobu's embrace, she sobbed until her breaths became labored, and Tanjiro gently eased her away, until her head rested softly against his chest, and she trembled as her breaths became more even.
During this time, Sasori nearly turned around and left. Had Shinobu left his line of sight for a moment, he thought he would have done so.
But mourners were always coming to her. Sasori observed how some of them bowed to her. Some of them embraced her. Others wept with her. Sasori observed each of them, Tomioka, Tokito, Shinazugawa, Ubuyashiki, and so on…
Finally, without thinking any further, he began to put one foot in front of the other, his movements were unhurried as he made his way to Kanae’s casket, which grew closer to him as he neared it, until he blinked and found himself standing over her still form.
She lay peaceful in the white robes of the dead, her delicate features untouched, as if she were only sleeping. But she wouldn’t wake up. Not now. Not ever.
The sorrow was different now... quieter, colder. The shock had faded, leaving only its weight behind.
Kanae had been kind. Ridiculously kind. The kind of warmth that had no place in a world like this—and yet, she had existed anyway, smiling in the face of cruelty. It felt… wrong, that she was the one lying in this casket.
She had been wise, yet there was an innocence about her—fragile, untouched, like that of an infant.
She had not deserved this.
His gaze lingered on her face for a long moment. Then, finally, Sasori lowered his head.
He remained still, his gaze unwavering as he closed his eyes, and still saw Kanae’s peaceful face. The quiet hum of the wake surrounded him, but it felt distant, muffled, like a conversation held behind a closed door. For the first time in his life, he was left alone with something he did not know how to process.
Guilt.
He had been so callous after meeting her. Even after realizing what kind of person she was, he had spoken of death as if it were nothing, and flaunted his indifference in front of her and Shinobu without a second thought. It had never mattered to him. Human life had never mattered to him. And yet… now, standing here, staring at the stillness of her, he felt a quiet, unfamiliar shame.
It wasn’t regret. He did not mourn the lives he had taken, did not wish to undo anything he had done. That part of him had not changed. But he did regret that she had seen it. That she had tolerated it.
Why?
Why hadn’t she condemned him? Why had she never told him he was wrong? She knew he was. He had seen it in her eyes before—seen the quiet sorrow, the understanding, the unshaken kindness. She had disagreed with him. He had always known that. But she had never turned her back on him, never spoken to him with disgust, never looked at him as if he were something beyond saving.
Had she believed, even for a moment, that he was capable of being more than what he had chosen to be? Sasori let out a slow, steady breath, staring down at her as if expecting an answer. He knew none would come.
Still… if only he had spoken to her sooner.
He was not sure how much more time had passed, but he had done what he came there to do.
In the background, he heard the soft conversation between Shinobu and Muichiro. He decided then that he had been there long enough. He tore himself away from Kanae, and left the room without looking back. The night air greeted him as he stepped through the open door of the house, and continued on his way.
He had already put several paces between himself and the house, when Shinobu ran from the same opened door, and called out his name.
Sasori pretended not to hear.
“Sasori-san! Please wait!” Her voice rang out again.
He did not slow. He did what he went there to do, and no good would come out of lingering any longer.
Shinobu stepped forward, the motion sending a sharp pulse of heat through her temples. “Sasori-san, wai—” her breath hitched, and her world tilted.
Her body gave out beneath her.
Before anyone else could react, Sasori spun on his heel. It was an instinctive reaction at this point. Even in his grief, he recognized the warning signs, and Chakra threads shot from his fingers to catch her mid-fall. “Kocho-san!?” Muichiro cried out, which allerted the other mourners, who all rushed out. Some glaring eyes instinctively fell on Sasori whose threads held her suspended body, but Muichiro who had witnessed the whole thing frantically explained what he saw.
For a scary moment, her body was suspended in that state, not having hit the ground, but not standing either. Shinobu was carefully lowered into Naho’s waiting arms, her skin burning against Naho’s as she cradled her, murmuring her name in quiet distress. “She’s burnin up!” Naho cried, tears in her eyes, as Aoi and the others rushed to Shinobu’s side.
They didn’t notice him approach before they all saw that he knelt beside them. Sasori’s fingers ghosted over Shinobu’s wrist, pressing lightly against the pulse point.
“What's wrong with her!? Sasori-san?” Sumi cried through flowing tears as she clutched Aoi’s hand, and Kiyo buried her face in the fabric of Aoi’s kimono.
In a swift motion, Sasori’s hand went from Shinobu’s wrist to her collar, pulling it back, and observing the bandages that covered the wounds she received from Doma. He could tell just by looking at it…
"Her wounds haven't fully healed," he stated. "And she’s incurred an infection from them. Her high fever is a result of that, and it can be treated."
A heavy silence fell over them.
Sanemi exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. "She was takin’ care of everything," he muttered. "The funeral, the preparations—she never stopped movin’. Even through all of this, she didn’t rest." His fists clenched. "That stupid brat pushed herself too hard as always."
Tanjiro, who had been kneeling nearby, holding Kanao against him as she wept, looked up at Sasori. His expression was heavy with worry, his voice quiet but firm. "Is it serious?"
Sasori was silent for a moment before responding. "What did I just say? It can be treated." He stood, brushing off his sleeves. "But she needs to be taken to a hospital."
Tanjiro gave a firm nod, his grip tightening around Kanao. “She’s going to be alright” he whispered to her. “She’s going to be alright”
***
Tanjiro had been proven right, and Kanao left Shinobu’s hospital room with a lighter step than when she entered. She gave Shinobu one final smile, and held Tanjiro’s hand.
Tanjiro smiled. Kanao’s eyes were wet from crying, but it was a feeling he had watched her struggle to express for so long, and now, finally, she could do so freely. But as they crossed the threshold of the room, and into the hallway, Tanjiro saw the puppet master sitting alone on a bench.
“Kanao-chan, why don’t you go and wait for me by the car?” Tanjiro suggested. “I’ll be with you soon.”
Kanao gave him a curious look, but that almost immediately dissipated into full, unquestioning trust. “Okay, I’ll wait for you then, Tanjiro.”
“I’ll go with you Kanao,” Muichiro said with a calm smile as he exited the room. “We’ll see you later Tanjiro,” he said, before turning to Sasori, and giving him a shy smile and nod, before turning
Sasori did not look up as he heard Kanao’s light footsteps pad softly down the hall, and then he felt Tanjiro’s presence come closer to his own.
“Why do you avoid the other?” Tanjiro asked gently. “Were you going to wait until the others have left before going in to see Kocho-san?”
“What business is it of yours?” Sasori asked bluntly.
“How should I put it?” Tanjiro began awkwardly, “You give off a certain smell… its a very angry, and a very sad smell… but there is also a lot of conflict. I think that maybe, some of those things you’re feeling can be straightened out if you talk more with others, instead of avoiding them.”
“I am here to talk to my pupil, Kamado, not you.”
“I see then,” Tanjiro said with acceptance. “Then I wish you well, Sasori-san.”
“How is your sister by the way?” Sasori asked as Tanjiro turned to leave. Tanjiro turned back around, almost taken aback. “Did you manage to turn her back into a human?”
Tanjiro gave a hopeful smile. “She’s still recovering at the butterfly mansion, but she’s getting better everyday. We’ve turned her back into a human, thanks in part to you, Sasori-san.”
No sooner had Tanjiro disappeared down the hall, had the door to Shinobu’s room opened again, and Sanemi stepped out, his eyes and Sasori’s eyes catching one another.
For a long moment, neither man spoke, until Sanemi finally broke the silence. “How’s Oyakata-sama?” he asked.
Sasori didn’t move for a beat before answering. “He’s responding well to the treatment.”
Another stretch of silence.
Then, as though he was smothering the urge to delay, Sanemi exhaled, squared his shoulders, and bowed.
“Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”
Sasori regarded him coolly. “The others did the same thing before they left.” His voice was detached, unimpressed. Then, without another word, he stepped past Sanemi and and prepared entered Shinobu’s hospital room, closing the door behind him.
“Wait a minute,” Sanemi said. “You.. really are a cold prick you know that?… I know you cared about her, thats the only reason why I’m not grabbin’ ya by the collar right now… I get you. I know its hard for you to show your guts. If you ever wanna talk or anything like that…”
“Shinazugawa,” Sasori replied. “You don’t have to go through the awkwardness of trying to talk to me. You and I both know that at this moment, we are sharing in grief… I know you loved her. And for what it is worth, I truly feel sorry that you two will never be together again, especially knowing that she loved you too”
Sanemi grimaced and looked down. “I don’t know why, but, just looking at you is making me sad right now.”Realizing he had probably said something wrong, Sasori decided to shut up, before Sanemi, in a heavy voice, asked him one final question.
“Puppet master… just what was Kanae to you?”
Sasori hesitated thoughtfully. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know how to answer that. Just know that I grieve with you.” and with that, he crossed the threshold into Shinobu’s room, and shut the door behind him.
His gaze panned over the room, and fell upon Shinobu, who lay against the pillows, propped up slightly, her wisteria eyes widening just a fraction when she saw him. Her surprise was fleeting, melting into a small, gentle smile. She looked better than when she had collapsed.The color had returned to her cheeks, yet her eyes remained reddened from grief.
Sasori said nothing as he stood by the door. Shinobu shifted against the pillows. "I’m sorry," she said softly. "I should have taken better care of myself. I hope I didn’t cause you all too much trouble."
Sasori didn’t respond right away. His gaze drifted, scanning her expression, the slight tremor in her fingers as she absently clutched something in her hands. A delicate hair-ornament, shaped like a butterfly, gleamed faintly in the low light. His eyes narrowed slightly. "That’s new," he noted.
Shinobu followed his gaze, then let out a quiet breath, one that was almost a laugh, but not quite. She lifted a hand and wiped at a stray tear before offering a small smile. "Shinazugawa-san gave it to me," she said.
She turned the ornament over between her fingers, watching the light catch on its polished surface. "He told me… he knows it can’t replace the one I lost. But still, he wanted me to have it." Her voice wavered just slightly before she steadied herself with another breath. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?"
Sasori walked over to her, and installed himself in one of the chairs by her bed that her previous visitors had just used.
“Are you alright? Sasori-sa…” instincts from her lessons with him kicked in, and Shinobu held her tongue, as she waited for Sasori to speak.
Sasori had always been the type of man who demanded the patience from others that he never showed, but today, he did not seem to be temporizing deliberately. He appeared to be at war with his own thoughts. He slumped his head, and Shinobu almost considered prompting him to continue. But on his own, the words came out, slow, measured, and calm, as though he never had any trouble forming them to begin with...
“When I was young, I knew a kid named Komushi. I wasn't exactly close with him. He wanted to be my friend, but so did the rest of my peers, and I preferred to be alone all the same. One day, Komushi lost an arm during a mission. He was the closest thing I had to a friend, so I made a prosthetic for him. A new arm with a hidden blade, that was coated with poison.
Some time later, while I was on a mission, I received an urgent summons from my grandmother. Komushi had accidentally poisoned himself with his own arm, and I was the only one who could make an antidote. Like I said, he and I weren’t close, but I still knew that the situation was urgent. I rushed back, but I was too late.”
“Did anyone blame you for it?” Shinobu asked with concern.
“How could they?” Sasori asked. “Even if I had done it deliberately, I was an invaluable asset to Suna, and the country was at war. No one would have dared to accuse me.”
Sasori did not need to explain any further. Shinobu looked down as her mind filled in the blanks. Sasori was highly prized, but also feared… also judged… also alone. She had always known he hated the place he came from, and now, she felt she finally understood…
“That is a distant memory now, but… On the night I saved your sister,” Sasori continued, his voice losing its edge when he mentioned Kanae. Shinobu’s hands clenched the butterfly ornament she was holding in her lap, and she swallowed hard. “...I remembered Komushi’s mother…” Sasori said in a dropping tone. “It was so long ago, that I didn’t remember how I felt, but I remembered everything else. His mother, kneeling to me, and crying through tears, ‘please heal him’ over and over… You brought that memory back when you begged me to save Kanae…I still don’t remember what I felt when Komushi died, if I felt anything at all, but I felt something that I wasn’t used to feeling when I met you and Kanae… I suppose that ever since then, Its like I've been at that moment again, given another chance to do things differently, and yet, I still feel so unsatisfied… I wasn’t able to save Kanae… I was given a second chance, and I failed again.” Sasori’s gaze drifted to the vase of flowers on Shinobu’s nightstand. Carnations of purple and pink, daisies of white and yellow, and tulips of many colors. Someone had also left thoughtfully crafted origamis… He waited for his mind to grow blank as his eyes focused on the petals, and on the small droplets of water that fell from some of them…
Then, he felt a small, light, tug at his sleeve.
Sasori’s gaze shifted down, and there was Shinobu, her head bowed, her shoulders quivering slightly. Her hair hung down and veiled her face. But her arm was outstretched to her side, and her fingers gripped the edge of his sleeve.
Sasori blinked, and Shinobu’s breath hitched. “You didn’t fail.”
The words came out in a breaking whisper, barely more than air.
She seemed to want to continue, to find the right words to follow, but nothing came. Her grip on him tightened, her small body trembling as she let out a choked sob, and then another, until the dam broke and the grief overwhelmed her completely.
Her shoulders shook, and the sound of her weeping filled the quiet room.
Sasori decided not to linger any longer. He understood that he had no capacity for comforting others. “You should rest,” he said in a quiet voice, as he got up to leave. He turned, only to feel another tug at his shirt.
“YOU DIDN’T FAIL!” Shinobu’s voice cracked, the words escaping her in a breathless, almost frantic outburst. Her fingers curled into the fabric, clinging tightly, as if holding onto him alone could keep him from leaving. “You gave Nee-san another four years! You gave…” she had to stop to catch her breath… “You gave me another four years with her… even if it was just four days, even if it was just one more day that I got to be with her…” Her voice faltered, and she hiccuped. “Just one more day… ”
She nearly flew out of her bed. Sasori’s eyes widened as he saw her lift her arms as if she meant to reach for him. But before the motion could complete itself, she froze, her fingers curling into small fists at her sides. It was as if she had caught herself at the last second, realizing what she was about to do, who she was about to reach for…
Sasori who had braced himself for physical contact now let his body become less tense. Shinobu took a step back, and with a sharp breath, fell back onto her hospital bed in a sitting position, her hands catching the fabric of the mattress as if to steady herself.
“I apologize,” she said with a sniffle. “I’ve always had Nee-san’s shoulder to cry on, and now…”
“Just stop talking,” Sasori said. “Your making yourself more upset.”
Shinobu gave a faint smile as she shook her head. "I… I’ll be released from the hospital tomorrow morning. The doctors say I’m fine, that I just need to take it easy for a few more days, but… I’m not making myself more upset."
Sasori noticed how her hands trembled even as she dug her fingers into the fabric of her blanket.
"Sasori-san… I…" She took a breath. "Nee-san told me what she would have wanted if this happened… to live like a normal girl. So I’m going to try to do that."
Sasori regarded her in silence before speaking bluntly. "After everything you’ve been through, you know that’s not possible."
Shinobu lowered her gaze. "Perhaps you’re right. But I’m going to try… I’m going to honor Nee-san’s memory as best as I can." She exhaled softly, as if steadying herself. "Earlier, when my friends were here—Shinazugawa-san, Tomioka-san, Kamado-kun, and the others—I told them that when I recover, I’ll take Nee-san’s ashes back to our home in Takinogawa. The place where we were born, where we lived with our Mom and Dad…"
Sasori stiffened.
Shinobu hesitated for just a moment longer, as if giving him the space to speak, but when he didn’t, she continued. "I asked them to come with me." Sasori’s eye twitched slightly, as he perceived what she would ask next. Then, her voice softened. "Sasori-san, I would like you to come with us as well… would you please… at least consider it?"
Sasori exhaled softly. "Takinogawa, huh?"
Shinobu waited, gripping the blanket between her fingers.
“I’d rather not travel with the others.” Sasori said with resignation. There was a pause between his words… “I’ll meet you there.”
Shinobu blinked, her fingers curling tighter around the blanket. She parted her lips, but no words came out.
She turned her head to Sasori, her eyes wide with astonishment, but his back was already turned to her as he walked out of her room. “In the meantime, do what the doctors tell you until you’re discharged. You have a bad habit of pushing yourself beyond your limits.”
He didn’t wait for a response.
Shinobu watched his back as he turned the corner and disappeared. She exhaled softly, sinking back into the pillows, her fingers still clutching the blanket.