How much lore can a puppet have?
The room fell silent, every eye fixed on the drawing—a cylindrical object sketched on the paper.
"That looks horrifying. Disturbing," Iguro muttered, voicing the thoughts of most of the occupants.
"Could someone describe it for me?" Gyomei asked.
"It's a fucking abomination," Muichiro said bluntly.
"Hmmm. I think that's enough of a description for me," Gyomei replied calmly.
A Kakushi in the room quickly reproduced the sketch on her paper and pinned it to the backboard. Beneath the image, she wrote the word "Core" in bold letters. Near the rough sketch of Sasori, she added another note: "13,000 years old??" and connected the two with a line, meticulously documenting everything important on the board.
"Where the hell did you get that?" Iguro asked, his voice sharp.
"You still haven't answered me," Sanemi said, ignoring Iguro and keeping his focus on Shinobu.
"Well, the kanji is the same, but the rest... I'm not sure," Shinobu replied hesitantly.
"Good enough. I knew I remembered reading about Sasori somewhere, and it was here," Sanemi said, rifling through a pile of notes.
"Wait. There's something about Sasori in there?" Uzui asked, looking stunned.
"Yeah. Long story short, I've been tracking a demon, and in one of its hideouts, I found these notes. I couldn't read most of them, but I remembered..." Sanemi trailed off as he searched the pile.
"Ah-ha! Found it," he said triumphantly, pulling out a sheet of paper and beginning to read aloud.
Note #1
Greetings, dear reader.
Though I suppose "reader" may be a misnomer, as no one aside from myself will likely peruse these notes—at least, not in the near future. Yet, documentation is vital, even for geniuses such as myself.
Today, I uncovered a rather intriguing development. The Ōtsutsuki clan—those celestial parasites—are more numerous than we previously suspected. A full clan of them exists, their movements suggesting a calculated attempt to free Kaguya from her prison. Naturally, this poses a significant inconvenience. Without Sasuke, sealing her again is no longer an option. The fool allowed himself to be ambushed, leaving us with the unenviable task of managing this disaster.
Of course, I remain unshaken. Where others see despair, I see opportunity.
Sakura—of all people—suggested a plan that, while crude, has potential. Reviving Sasori. A masterpiece of carnage, his brilliance as a puppeteer was only surpassed by his ambition to transcend humanity itself. Sasori's puppets could dismantle nations. More importantly, his puppet body renders him immune to trivial concerns like breathing or the frailty of flesh. It is almost poetic, sending a man who transcended life itself to deal with extraterrestrial threats.
Naturally, I prefer the idea of using Edo Tensei to restore him, but it appears his puppet body—his true form—remains intact. Kankuro, that simpering fool, kept Sasori's core as some macabre trophy. I find it amusing how he clings to something far beyond his understanding. Soon, I will retrieve the core and puppet body from him. Sasori will rise again, and this time, he will serve a far greater purpose.
"Well, that's... interesting," Giyu muttered uncertainly.
"More than interesting," Kagaya said softly.
"Wait... someone brought Sasori back to fight aliens?" Mitsuri asked, completely lost.
Even Gyomei seemed puzzled.
"What the actual hell is this man's backstory?" Muichiro asked, incredulous.
"Do you have the second day?" Uzui asked, leaning forward.
Sanemi nodded and began reading again.
Note #2
Unfortunate developments have delayed my plans. It appears a cult—one of those tedious groups devoted to worshipping the Ōtsutsuki—caught wind of our intentions. They attempted to assassinate Kankuro, and though their methods were crude, they nearly succeeded. Kankuro survived, but he fled Sunagakure like a frightened child.
He now makes his way to Konohagakure, dragging Sasori's core and body with him. This inconvenience is minor, albeit frustrating. I will follow him to the village and ensure the artifacts are secured. As always, these setbacks are mere hurdles for someone of my caliber.
The world underestimates me. They always do. But soon, they will see the fruits of my labor—an army that defies mortality itself, capable of standing against gods.
Until then, I remain patient. After all, the art of creation takes time.
"This one isn't that useful when it comes to Sasori," Iguro said.
Sasnemi pulled out another note.
Note #3
The incompetence of others never ceases to astound me. Kankuro—weak, foolish Kankuro—proved incapable of handling something as trivial as a group of fanatical cultists. His failure resulted in his death, a predictable yet inconvenient outcome. However, there is a sliver of good fortune amid this debacle: before his demise, he managed to send Sasori's core to safety via a summoned bird. A minor victory, though the means of transport were laughable.
Yet, this is where the situation grows vexing. The imbecile lacked the foresight or skill to summon a bird capable of carrying Sasori's puppet body. Instead, he buried it in some random location, as if hiding a treasure he had no hope of guarding. I suspect he sealed it within a scroll, adding an infuriating layer of difficulty to locating it. The odds of recovering it unscathed are dwindling by the hour.
Naruto, in his eternal naivety, suggested that we construct a new puppet body for Sasori. An amusing thought, if not so pathetically ignorant. Sasori's original puppet body is a masterpiece of engineering, meticulously designed to interface with his core. It is not something that can be replicated by amateurs. A poorly crafted vessel would likely destroy the core upon integration, rendering all our efforts meaningless—even Edo Tensei would be powerless to restore him then.
And so, we are left at an impasse. For now, the recovery of Sasori's original puppet body is our only viable path forward.
"They clearly found another way. Or found his body. But why would he try for the demon slayer exams?" Gyomei asked.
"Nope. They didn't find his organle body." Sanemi said ruffling through more papers and showing some more papers.
Note #56
At last, Sasori's core is in my possession. It is a marvel to behold, a testament to his unparalleled genius. Yet, our work remains incomplete. The puppet body—his true vessel—eludes us still. This setback grows ever more intolerable.
I suspect that Kankuro, in his misguided attempt at cleverness, rendered the scroll concealing Sasori's body untraceable. Likely, the idiot used genjutsu or some other method to cloak its presence, believing he was thwarting the cultists. Instead, he has thwarted me. His paranoia has become our obstacle, his incompetence our bane.
We have scoured the area within a 100-meter radius of Kankuro's death site, leaving no stone unturned. Yet, the scroll remains hidden. It is almost poetic how his last act of supposed cunning has proven so catastrophic. The irony does little to soothe my frustration.
Now, Naruto—impatient as ever—threatens to abandon the endeavor entirely if we cannot locate the scroll soon. Such shortsightedness is galling. To discard Sasori, a weapon of immeasurable potential, simply because of a delay? It would be the height of folly.
But no matter. I will find the scroll. I always do. Naruto's orders are irrelevant to me.
Note #93
It is with profound irritation that I document this latest development. Naruto, in his infinite impatience and naivety, has officially declared the mission to retrieve Sasori—codename: The Scorpion—abandoned. His decision reeks of short-sightedness, yet I am not surprised. True vision is a rarity among the simple-minded.
Sasori's core remains in my possession, albeit in a frustratingly dormant state. It displays occasional signs of activity, but the consciousness within is incomplete—more akin to a fragmented echo than a sentient mind. Fascinatingly, I suspect this partial awareness would fully restore itself if reunited with a proper host: his original puppet body, intricately designed to interface with the core. However, without that vessel, the core is little more than a relic, stripped of memories, purpose, and, most crucially, the brilliance of its creator's intellect.
The potential loss is maddening. To resurrect Sasori's genius, even in part, would have been invaluable. Yet, Naruto's decision has tied my hands—for now.
Still, I remain patient. The Scorpion is far too valuable a prize to abandon. When the time is right, I will take matters into my own hands. After all, some things are far too important to leave in the hands of fools.
"Nothing about him was maintained until," Sanemi said pulling out another note from the pile.
Note #84256
Fate, it seems, has not lost its sense of irony. After years of abandoning the pursuit of Sasori's revival—considering it a waste of resources and talent—I have stumbled upon news that is both fascinating and deeply unsettling.
Sasori's core, long left sealed within a containment capsule in one of my lesser-used laboratories, has vanished. I admit, I had nearly forgotten about it; the laboratory itself is a forgotten relic, buried in obscurity even to me. How it escaped, I am unsure. Perhaps the core's latent autonomy awakened, enabling it to breach containment. Or perhaps some witless creature stumbled into the lab, dislodging the capsule. Regardless, the result is the same.
Sasori's core appears to have entered a state of autopilot, instinctively seeking a suitable vessel—likely his original puppet body, hidden wherever that bumbling fool Kankuro buried it. If the core succeeded, and Sasori now roams freely in his fully restored form, the implications are... troubling.
The man's power is unquestionable. Even now, after so many decades, I cannot underestimate his abilities. His intellect, precision, and ruthlessness remain unparalleled, and I suspect his memories—and grudges—would have reawakened alongside his core. If that is the case, I must tread carefully. Sasori has little reason to forgive my actions, and the likelihood of him seeking retribution is not lost on me.
I must locate him before he acts. A rogue Sasori is an unpredictable variable, and one that I, for once, find genuinely disconcerting. He is a masterpiece of destruction—one I can neither control nor ignore.
"Okay, can we all agree he's not human?" Mitsuri asked, her voice firm.
"That much is obvious," Muichiro replied, dripping with sarcasm.
"Then we need to kill him," Mitsuri declared, her determination cutting through the room like a blade.
Everyone turned to stare at her.
"Mitsuri, have you lost your mind?" Uzui asked, incredulous.
"This guy's like someone who is the closest to an eldritch god! The man is over 13,000 years old!" Sanemi exclaimed, pointing toward the board where the Kakushi had emphatically circled the number.
"People trusted him to fight aliens. We're not laying a hand on him until we know more," Master Kagaya said calmly, his words carrying the weight of authority.
"Wait," Iguro interjected, a thought suddenly clicking into place. "Is this guy Sasori's husband?"
The room fell silent for a moment. Uzui raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
"I'm sorry, what?" Gyomei asked, visibly puzzled.
"He has a husband?!" Shinobu's voice rose in shock.
"Yeah," Iguro said matter-of-factly. "Sasori mentioned something about a former partner during one of our missions."
"We're not certain if they were married," Uzui added. "But it's the leading theory."
"I mean it would explain the problem Sasori has with this guy," Muichiro said.
"Okay, but why the hell did he even take the Slayer Exam?!" Sanemi demanded, his frustration bubbling over. "He shouldn't have had any reason to. And how would he even get in without a trainer's recommendation?"
The questions hung in the air, unanswered, as the group exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Sasori’s mysteries pressing down on them.
"I think I’ve figured it out," Giyu said quietly, his calm tone cutting through the tension and drawing everyone’s attention.
"What are you talking about?" Shinobu asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"What if his puppet body was in the Exam Forest?" Giyu began, his voice steady but thoughtful. "That would explain why he joined. He wasn’t there to become a Slayer—he was there to retrieve something. And if his body was already there, he wouldn’t need a trainer’s recommendation. He’d just... enter."
The room fell silent again as Giyu’s theory sank in, each person digesting the implications.
"That… actually makes sense," Mitsuri admitted softly, though her expression was darkening with unease.
"Mitsuri?" Iguro said cautiously, noticing the change in her demeanor. Her face shifted, realization dawning into something sharper, tinged with anger.
"It was him..." Mitsuri muttered, almost to herself.
"Who?" Shinobu asked, leaning closer. She was the only one near enough to hear Mitsuri’s words.
"It was him who killed my student," Mitsuri said, louder this time, her voice quivering with restrained fury.
The room grew tense, the air thick with anticipation.
"Mitsuri, don’t do anything rash," Master Kagaya warned gently, his calm voice a tether against the storm brewing within her.
"I won’t..." Mitsuri replied after a long pause, her voice soft but steely.
"But we will kill him eventually," she said, her gaze distant yet filled with conviction. "I just have to be patient."