Food Stealing Demon?
Sasori maintained a steady jogging pace, his movements precise and efficient. After a few hours, he arrived at a pair of grand, imposing gates. Beyond them stretched a lush garden, brimming with vibrant flowers in a kaleidoscope of colors, leading the way to an opulent main building. The air was rich with the scent of blooming flora, a stark contrast to the utilitarian atmosphere Sasori was used to.
Approaching the gates calmly, Sasori's keen eyes immediately spotted a bell mounted beside them. The intricate design and golden sheen suggested it was crafted from solid gold.
"Not the worst decision on how to flaunt wealth," Sasori mused silently, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Still, it's up there."
Without hesitation, he reached out and rang the bell, the melodic chime echoing through the tranquil surroundings.
Moments later, he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the gate. His sharp senses quickly analyzed the details.
'Sandals... light footsteps... female... anxious,' Sasori deduced, his unease about his unfamiliar surroundings persisting.
His observation proved accurate. The gate creaked open to reveal a young woman of average height with a strikingly voluptuous figure. Her pale skin contrasted beautifully with her large, golden-brown eyes, framed by thick lashes that accentuated her intense gaze. Thin, arched eyebrows lent her a look of determination and resolve. Her black hair was neatly tied up, while golden-brown bangs framed her face delicately, giving her an air of quiet strength.
"Are you... Sasori?" she asked hesitantly, her voice a mix of apprehension and formality.
"Yes," Sasori replied, his tone even and calm as his eyes took her measure. "And you must be one of Tengon's wives."
The woman—Makio—nodded, her tense expression softening just slightly. She stepped aside, opening the gates further and gesturing for him to enter.
"So... what exactly did Lord Tengon tell you about the... problem?" Makio asked as she led him along a stone-paved path lined with vibrant greenery, the rich colors of the flowers blooming in the sunlight.
Sasori followed silently for a moment, his crimson eyes scanning the estate's grandeur. "Not much," he admitted after a beat. "He mentioned a demon nearby, but left out the specifics." His gaze shifted to the flowers, noting the striking pattern—each one seemed to reflect the colors of the rainbow.
"I see..." Makio began, her tone laced with concern. "This isn't a normal demon... It's odd." She paused as they neared the front door of the manor, her unease palpable as she turned to face him.
"How odd?" Sasori asked, halting in front of her.
"It's... stealing our food," Makio replied, her voice betraying disbelief that seemed to reflect her internal struggle to accept the situation.
"Your... normal food?" Sasori asked a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Yeah, like vegetables, some meat, and... cake," Makio said, though she hesitated as if there might be more to the list she hadn't mentioned.
"Hmmm." Sasori hummed thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on the colorful array of flowers surrounding them. "Are you sure it's a demon, and not just some random human stealing from you? Maybe even a raccoon, depending on if there was a mess left behind."
"Yeah, we thought the same at first," Makio replied, her expression tightening. "But there were claw marks on the floor—like it had claws for feet. Definitely not human. And it wasn't a raccoon either. It opened a window and seemed to lock-pick through the door."
"Hm." Sasori stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Can demons even live off normal food?"
Makio shook her head. "I'm not sure. Maybe they could, but demons usually crave human flesh... and I doubt a normal demon would steal food when there are humans upstairs."
"I see..." Sasori murmured, his thoughts turning inward.
"Anyways," Makio continued, her voice taking on a lighter tone, "me and the other wives heard about you from Lord Tengon and decided to host a welcome party for you." She moved to the side, gesturing for him to enter the manor.
Sasori raised an eyebrow. "A welcome party? I appreciate the gesture, but it seems unnecessary." He stepped inside, the door opening with a creak—just as a series of balloons fell from above, floating gently to the floor.
Inside, two other women were waiting. The first was a young woman of short stature, with shoulder-length black hair and short bangs. Her bright blue eyes were focused intently on Sasori as she held two sticks, their ends connected by a long piece of cloth adorned with a rainbow design.
The second woman was of average height, her curvaceous figure balanced with a graceful, slender appearance. She had long black hair, tied neatly in a ponytail, and striking violet eyes framed by thin lashes and eyebrows. A beauty mark sat just beneath her left eye, adding to her distinct, gentle beauty. She held a cake in her hands, its frosting decorated in a rainbow pattern to match the theme.
Sasori took in the scene with a mix of curiosity and bemusement.
"What's with the rainbow theme?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the balloons that were also adorned in rainbow colors.
"Well... we heard you were... homosexual," the woman holding the cake said hesitantly.
"We thought you'd be more comfortable with it," she added, the awkwardness in her tone unmistakable.
Sasori raised an eyebrow, his expression calm yet puzzled. "But... I'm not homosexual."
"Oh..." Makio's face flushed with embarrassment. She walked up to the woman holding the the banner, snatched it from her hands, and then tossed it aside before pushing the woman in front of Sasori.
"This is Suma. She's also bisexual," Makio said quickly, trying to salvage the situation.
Suma, now standing awkwardly before Sasori, lifted her hand to shake his, but Sasori simply stared at the two women, his expression unreadable. There was no sign of recognition, no shift in his calm demeanor—just a blank face.
The other woman, seemingly relieved by Sasori's lack of reaction, walked forward and handed him the cake. She quickly grabbed the other two women and dragged them away.
"Enjoy the cake, sir!" she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty, as she ushered the others into another room.
Sasori looked down at the cake, his gaze narrowing at the message written in the icing: "We are fine with you being gay!" The words "gay" were dusted with a fine layer of gold, glittering faintly in the light.
Sasori muttered under his breath, "Uzui's too rich..."
-With the wives-
Makio paced nervously, her hands wringing in frustration. "What the hell are we doing?" she exclaimed.
"We did this so we could get on his good side," Suma said, her voice shaky. She looked as though she might burst into tears. "But I think we just pissed him off."
Hinatsuru stepped forward, her expression calm as she grabbed a tissue and gently dabbed at Suma's eyes. "Relax, you two."
"He doesn't seem to care that much," Hinatsuru said, trying to soothe them. "As long as we don't push him further, we shouldn't have any problems."
"Hinatsuru, this guy is over 13,000 years old!" Makio burst out, her anxiety creeping into her voice. "He can control people using techniques that are long dead! For all we know, he could spit fire or something!"
Suma flinched at Makio's outburst, tears welling up in her eyes again.
"Calm down!" Hinatsuru said firmly, pulling out another tissue.
"We only need to deal with him for a week until Lord Tengon comes home," Hinatsuru continued, her voice softening. "Let's just stay calm and let him do what he wants, alright?"
Makio and Suma exchanged hesitant glances, then nodded in agreement, though the tension between them remained thick in the air.
They walked out of the room and found Sasori sitting on a stool near the counter in the kitchen, and cake on the surface of the counter.
"We're sorry about the misunderstanding, sir," Makio said, bowing her head slightly, with the other two following her lead and doing the same.
Sasori didn't look up from where he sat, his expression neutral. "I honestly don't care about what you three just did."
Suma lifted her head, her voice shaky. "You don't?"
"No," Sasori replied, his gaze cold as he stared down the three women.
Suma trembled under Sasori's piercing stare, her eyes darting away as she struggled to maintain composure. Meanwhile, Hinatsuru and Makio remained calm, unfazed by the tension in the room.
Sasori didn't break his gaze. The silence lingered for a moment, thick with unspoken words. Suma shifted uncomfortably, her eyes flicking between the other two women, clearly uneasy under Sasori's cold stare.
Makio cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "We just... wanted to make you feel welcome, sir. But we understand if we overstepped." She straightened her posture, trying to regain some composure.
Sasori finally looked up, his crimson eyes studying each of them with a detached curiosity. "I don't need your welcome," he said bluntly. "I was asked to handle a problem. That's all."
Hinatsuru, sensing the growing tension, took a step forward, her expression softening. "We understand. We just wanted to ensure everything goes smoothly during your stay." Her voice was calm, almost soothing.
Suma, still visibly anxious, hesitated before speaking. "So... you're not angry?" Her tone was cautious as if testing the waters.
Sasori's expression remained unreadable. "Anger is... beneath me," he said quietly. "You can be as... misguided as you like. Just don't waste my time with nonsense."
Makio and Suma exchanged quick glances, then nodded in silent agreement. There was no denying the underlying tension, but it seemed that Sasori wasn't interested in engaging with them any further.
"Then... shall we discuss the matter at hand?" Hinatsuru asked, eager to move the conversation along. "The demon that's been stealing food. Have you come up with any theories?"
Sasori turned his attention back to her, his calm demeanor never wavering. "Food theft is hardly a matter of great concern," he mused, tapping his fingers lightly against the counter. "However, it is strange. A demon with a craving for normal food... that's unusual."
Makio stepped forward, her voice firm now. "That's what we thought too. It's not like any demon we've encountered before. We were hoping you might have some insight."
Sasori leaned back, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Demons generally crave human flesh. If this one is stealing food, it may be weaker than most or hiding its true nature. Either way, it seems worth investigating." He paused, scanning the room, then met their eyes. "I'll take a look. But if you're hoping for a quick fix, you'll be disappointed."
Hinatsuru nodded, relieved that Sasori was willing to help, despite his aloof attitude. "Thank you, Sasori. We appreciate it."
Sasori's expression softened, just enough for the women to notice, before he stood up. "I believe I have a room?" he asked, his tone still calm but with a hint of curiosity.
"Yes, sir. Would you like me to take you there?" Makio asked, her voice polite yet filled with a touch of nervous energy.
Sasori nodded, and with a quiet gesture, Makio led him down the hall toward his room.
As they left, Hinatsuru exhaled, a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Well, that went... better than I expected."
Suma, still a bit shaken, shook her head. "He's terrifying, though. Do you think we're safe?"
"As long as we don't offend or piss him off, we'll be fine," Hinatsuru replied, her voice steady but with a hint of uncertainty. "He doesn't seem like the type to go off without reason."
Suma nodded, her hands fidgeting slightly. "Did you and Makio find anything out about his relationship to us?" Hinatsuru asked, her voice low.
Suma glanced at her, a sober expression on her face. "I think we did... but we need to wait until Makio comes back. We'll discuss it more once we're back in our rooms."
The two women exchanged glances, each feeling the weight of the mystery hanging in the air. They both knew that Sasori was an enigma, and they hadn't even begun to scratch the surface.
Meanwhile, Makio guided Sasori to his room and opened the door for him, offering a small, polite smile.
Sasori's room was simple yet undeniably lavish. The walls were painted a soft, muted gold, reflecting the light from the elegant chandelier hanging overhead. The furniture was sleek, modern, and minimalistic: a large, dark wood bed with crisp white linens, a few polished black chairs, and a small, elegant desk adorned with a delicate vase of fresh flowers.
The floor was covered in a plush, deep crimson rug, which added a touch of warmth to the otherwise neutral tones of the room. Tall windows framed the view of the garden outside, their sheer curtains fluttering slightly with the breeze. Everything about the room was understated but carried an air of luxury as if carefully chosen to impress without being overly extravagant.
It was the kind of room that felt both calming and powerful—elegant in its restraint, yet undeniably opulent.
"Hear you are. If you need anything, just say it," Makio said before leaving Sasori alone in his room.
Sasori closed the door behind her and moved to the desk. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a scroll—the one containing his newly forged swords, delivered to him during his time at the Butterfly Mansion.
He carefully placed the scroll on the desk and unrolled it with swift precision. The blades inside looked almost identical to his previous ones, with only a few subtle modifications.
Sasori pulled the first sword from its sheath and examined the blade carefully. It gleamed under the light, much sharper than before. The metal had an almost unnatural sheen, reflecting the room's ambient light with a razor-like edge. He ran a gloved finger along the length of the blade, impressed by its precision and smoothness.
The handle, too, was different—more ergonomic and designed for a firmer grip. The weight was balanced perfectly, making it easier for him to wield with greater control and speed.
A faint smile tugged at Sasori's lips. This weapon was perfectly crafted, just as he had hoped.
-With the Wives-
"Okay, what now?" Makio asked, joining Suma and Hinatsuru.
"Let's go back to our room," Suma replied, and the three of them made their way back to their shared space.
As they entered, Hinatsuru stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening in surprise. The room had been completely rearranged. Cabinets and decorations were moved to the other side, leaving the left side of the room nearly empty. The wall was now covered with a chaotic jumble of drawings, names written beneath them, some with pictures, others only with question marks.
"What did you two do to our room?" Hinatsuru asked, a mix of shock and curiosity in her voice.
"We ran out of room on the blackboard, so we used the wall instead," Makio said nonchalantly, walking up to the wall with a long stick in hand. "Alright, girls. Ready for a history lesson?"
Hinatsuru nodded eagerly, her curiosity piqued by the unusual setup.
Suma sat down on the floor in front of Makio, and Hinatsuru joined her, both of them ready to listen.
"Okay, it all started with—" Makio began, pointing at the top of the family tree with a question mark next to the name Chiyo. "We don't have a last name, but she's the first recorded name in our family tree," Makio explained, then pointed to two other question marks beneath Chiyo.
"She had two daughters. Both got married, but the important one is her." Makio said, gesturing to one of the question marks, which held the name Emiko.
"She married an unknown man, and guess what? Had a child named Sasori," Makio continued, looking at the group.
"Are we sure that's the same person?" Hinatsuru asked, confused.
"Only one Sasori existed 13,000 years ago who could also control puppets," Makio explained, her tone certain.
"Also, his parents died, though the reason is unknown. So he was raised by his grandmother," she pointed back to Chiyo.
"Chiyo could also control puppets, so it makes sense," Makio added, raising an eyebrow.
"So, she thought Sasori..." Hinatsuru said.
"We think," Suma said.
Makio nodded. "But Sasori didn't have a recorded wife, husband, or children," she said, pointing to the other daughter, Karura, listed below Chiyo.
"She married the leader of their village and had three children before passing away," Makio continued, pointing to three question marks under Karura's name.
"The eldest, named Temari, got married and had a child, but we don't know what happened to them," she pointed at the middle question mark.
"The middle child, Kankuro, wasn't married but had a child," Makio said, pointing to the final question mark beside Kankuro, named Gaara.
"The youngest wasn't married but had an adopted child named Shinki," Makio added, pointing to the next level below.
"Shinki was married but didn't have any recorded children. However, Kankuro's son did marry and have kids," she continued, pointing to the next generation.
"And from there, it went on until it led to us," Makio finished, stepping back.
Hinatsuru was silent for a moment before asking, "Is that the only Sasori in our family?"
Suma shook her head, her expression heavy with sadness. "There was one other Sasori, but he was born about 500 years ago. He was blind from birth and suffered from several illnesses before passing away at a very young age," she said softly, her tone tinged with sorrow.
Makio cast a sympathetic glance at Suma before refocusing on the chart. "Even if there was another Sasori in the family, he couldn't possibly be connected to the one we're talking about. Puppet mastery, the timeline, his level of skill—it all matches perfectly with the Sasori from 13,000 years ago," she said firmly, her voice resolute.
"So... we're related to that Sasori?" Hinatsuru asked, her brows knitting together as she tried to process the information.
Makio shrugged slightly. "Technically, Lord Tengen and I are biologically related to him. You two, on the other hand, are related by law—since you married into the family." Her tone was light but carried a touch of humor.
"It's dark... We should go to sleep," Suma said, glancing out the window. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of a shadowy figure slipping behind the trees.
"Ahhh!" she gasped, her voice trembling slightly. "I saw someone!" she whispered, watching the figure retreat deeper into the forest, obscured by the trees.
"What is it?" Makio asked, rushing over to the window. She threw it open, leaning out to get a better look.
"I think... it's the demon," Suma muttered nervously.
Makio scoffed, scanning the area. "It ran off," she said, her tone dismissive but her eyes lingering on the dark tree line.
"We should let Sasori handle it," Hinatsuru said calmly as she approached, her presence steadying the room.
"Should we tell him?" Suma asked hesitantly.
Hinatsuru shook her head. "If we noticed it, he most definitely did," she replied with quiet certainty.
"Let's go to bed," Makio said, pulling the window shut. She grabbed a large cabinet and slid it in front of the window, blocking it off completely before turning to the others.
-Three Days Later-
The days passed uneventfully. The three wives sat around the kitchen, their conversation light and casual as Makio popped grapes into her mouth.
"Has he done anything? I haven't seen him leave his room once. Not for food, water, or even the bathroom," Suma said, her frustration obvious as she gestured dramatically.
"Maybe he's just nocturnal," Makio suggested, lazily tossing another grape into her mouth. "Sleeping during the day and staying up at night to make sure no demons come near."
Hinatsuru shook her head. "I don't think so. I've been keeping track of the food in the fridge—and nothing's been touched."
Makio frowned, her confusion deepening. "Wait, so... he's not eating at night either?"
"Exactly," Hinatsuru confirmed with a small shrug.
Makio's frown turned into a full-blown scowl. "I don't care if this guy's 13,000 years old! If he's not eating, how is he supposed to protect us? What, is he too good for our food now?" she snapped, her irritation bubbling over.
"Makio, calm down," Hinatsuru said, raising her hands in a placating gesture, though her tone carried a hint of amusement.
Ignoring the advice, Makio marched to the fridge, yanked it open, and began pulling out ingredients with a vengeance.
"This arrogant asshole," she muttered as she slammed the fridge door shut, her movements brisk and precise. "Thinks he can just starve himself and still do his job? What, is our cooking not good enough for him?"
Suma and Hinatsuru exchanged amused glances and silently stepped aside, giving Makio a wide berth as she started chopping vegetables.
From the sidelines, they watched her mutter insults under her breath while she cooked, her irritation somehow making the process more intense—and oddly entertaining.
Suma and Hinatsuru watched as Makio practically slammed and banged her way through the kitchen, angrily preparing a meal. When she finished, she plated the food with a flourish and stomped upstairs, her frustration radiating with every step.
Reaching Sasori's door, she didn't bother knocking. Instead, she kicked it open, the sound reverberating down the hallway.
"Oi, asshole! What the fuck do you think you're doing starving yourself—" Makio started, her voice dripping with annoyance, but froze mid-sentence.
The sight before her stopped her in her tracks. Sasori sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by unrolled scrolls. In his hands, he held the intricate head of a puppet, while the rest of its body lay in pieces on the bed behind him.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Makio asked, her anger now mixed with bewilderment.
Sasori turned his calm, unbothered gaze toward her. "What do you want?" he asked, completely ignoring her question.
"Don't 'what do you want' me, asshole! Why haven't you eaten anything?" she snapped, her tone growing sharper.
"I don't need to eat," Sasori replied flatly, his tone as emotionless as ever.
Makio's annoyance flared anew. "What, you're too good for my food?!" she spat, shoving the plate toward him. "Eat the fuck up," she ordered before stomping out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Sasori watched the door swing shut before glancing at the plate of food. With a sigh, he stood, walked over to the window, and unlocked it. He placed the plate on the windowsill, returned to his seat, and resumed his work.
After some time, a random bird fluttered down, landing neatly on the plate. It pecked at the food, eating without hesitation. Sasori didn't even glance up, his focus entirely on the puppet in his hands.
Once the bird finished its meal and flew off, Sasori made a mental note to return the plate downstairs—eventually.
Meanwhile, Makio stormed back down the stairs, her simmering anger evident in her heavy footsteps.
"How did it go?" Suma asked, sipping her tea calmly.
Makio huffed, crossing her arms. "Gave him the food," she grumbled.
"I better see that plate sparkling clean when he's done," she muttered under her breath, her irritation far from subsiding.
Sasori's work extended well into the night as he carefully pieced his Jiro puppet back together. His concentration was unbroken, even as the hours dragged on. He glanced at the untouched plate on the windowsill, briefly considering returning it to the kitchen.
As he prepared to move, something caught his attention—a subtle shift in the air. His expression hardened. He grabbed the plate, sealed Jiro back into the scroll with a quick flourish, and exited his room, moving silently down the stairs.
At first, Sasori had assumed this assignment would be uneventful. The demon had been cautious, avoiding detection since his arrival, but now it seemed ready to make its move.
Reaching the kitchen, Sasori found Suma standing at the counter, enthusiastically stuffing her face with cake.
Suma blinked in surprise, swallowing her mouthful of cake. "Mister Sasori?" she asked, her voice muffled by the sweetness.
Sasori placed the plate down on the counter with a measured calmness. Without turning his gaze, he spoke in a low, casual tone: "Behind you."
At first, the words didn't register. Then, with a sickening crunch, two massive claws burst through the floor beneath the fridge. Wood splintered and tiles cracked as the claws latched onto the fridge, their jagged tips sinking deep into its metal frame.
With an ear-splitting screech, the claws pulled the fridge downward into the gaping hole they had created, the entire appliance vanishing into the dark void below.
Suma froze, her eyes wide with terror as the ground beneath her seemed to tremble.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Suma screamed, scrambling onto the counter, clutching a half-eaten piece of cake for dear life.
Hinatsuru and Makio bolted awake at the sound of her scream. "SUMA?!" they shouted in unison, rushing downstairs. They found Suma trembling on the counter, her wide eyes darting between them and Sasori, who was calmly examining the gaping hole where the fridge had once stood.
"What the hell is going on?!" Makio demanded, her voice sharp with alarm.
Suma leaped from the counter and ran straight into Hinatsuru, wrapping her arms around her for dear life. "It-it-it stole our fridge!" she wailed, burying her face into Hinatsuru's chest, tears and cake icing smearing her dress.
Hinatsuru tried to soothe her while exchanging a bewildered look with Makio. "Stole the fridge?"
Sasori's cold, calculating gaze never wavered from the hole. His hand moved to the scroll at his side, his voice calm yet commanding. "Don't leave. Stay here."
A puff of smoke appeared as he unfurled the scroll, revealing a rugged and intimidating puppet with a scarred face, a yellow neckerchief, and tattered leather armor. The figure's worn trench coat and menacing stance radiated a presence forged in countless battles.
The puppet, Goro, floated into the air, positioning itself protectively beside the women. Along with Goro, a sword materialized in a puff of smoke, encased in an ornate black and red sheath. Sasori grabbed it with practiced ease, the weapon resting at his side as he prepared for what lay ahead.
"Don't stay out of its sight," Sasori ordered before leaping into the hole without hesitation.
"Wait! You can't just leave us here!" Makio shouted, rushing toward the hole, but Goro intercepted her. Its mechanical grip caught the collar of her dress, pulling her back firmly.
"HEY, LET ME GO!" she yelled, struggling against the puppet's iron hold, but Goro remained unmoved.
Hinatsuru kept her focus on the shaking Suma. "Suma, what happened?" she asked gently.
"It—it—it stole our fridge!" Suma sobbed, her words muffled as she clung tighter to Hinatsuru, soaking her dress with tears and smudged icing.
Makio's eye twitched as she glanced between the hole and the distraught Suma. "What kind of demon... steals a fridge?!"
Meanwhile, below the house:
Sasori landed lightly at the bottom of the hole, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The space opened into a narrow tunnel that forced him to crouch slightly to pass through. The air was damp, and faint scuff marks on the walls suggested something large had passed through recently.
As he moved deeper into the tunnel, Sasori noticed a trail of food littering the ground.
Reaching a fork in the path, he paused, his eyes narrowing. One of the trails was barren, while the other continued the scattered food debris.
"Well, this just makes things easier," Sasori murmured, his tone dry as he followed the trail.
His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword as he moved forward, the faint sound of scraping metal echoing through the tunnel. Whatever had stolen the fridge wasn't far ahead.
The forest was dense, with towering trees whose canopies wove together to block much of the moonlight. Twisting roots and thick undergrowth covered the forest floor, giving the place an ancient, untouched feel. Despite the darkness, the air was calm, carrying the faint scent of moss and damp wood.
A small clearing broke the continuity of the woods, its grass soft and silver under the moon's glow. The clearing was quiet, save for the gentle hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Beside the clearing stood a modest wooden cabin, its exterior weathered by time.
The cabin's walls were darkened and rough, its roof slightly sagging but intact. A single, small window let out a flicker of warm light, creating a soft glow that spilled onto the clearing. It stood solitary and still, as though it had been forgotten by the world, hidden among the towering trees.
Inside the cabin, the air was thick with a strange, earthy smell. The dim light from the window barely illuminated the scene, casting shadows on the walls. In the center of the room, crouched low to the ground, was a grotesque creature — a demon mole-woman. Her skin was dark and rough, like the earth itself, and her sharp claws dug into the wooden floor as she sat hunched over. Her face was a twisted blend of human and rodent-like features, with beady, pale eyes and a long, twitching nose. Thick matted hair covered her head, and a set of jagged, uneven teeth glistened as she chomped down on a piece of raw food.
A few feet away, the fridge that had been stolen was now upturned, its contents scattered across the floor. The once-pristine metal door was bent and broken, its contents spilled out into the room — bits of food, crushed jars, and discarded wrappers littered the ground.
In the corner of the small cabin, partially obscured by the shadows, was a hole in the floor. It looked as though it had been recently dug, the earth around it still loose and unsettled, a few scattered pebbles and chunks of dirt surrounding its edges.
In her hand, the demon held a stick of butter, the creamy substance smeared across her clawed fingers. She leaned over to a small bundle on the floor, a human child, no older than a few months. The child was lying on its back, its tiny limbs swaddled in blankets. The baby's eyes were wide open, staring up at the creature with a calm expression, unfazed by the demon's grotesque appearance.
The mole-woman gently pressed the stick of butter against the child's mouth, her voice soft and coaxing, "Eat... eat, little one. It will make you strong."
The baby didn't cry, didn't recoil. Its tiny hand reached out, weakly grasping at the demon's fingers, as if it didn't understand the danger it was in. There was no fear in the child's eyes, only curiosity, its gaze fixed on the butter as the creature continued to insist, pressing it closer.
"Eat... Eat... Eat..." the demon mumbled in a frantic, rhythmic tone, her hands trembling slightly as she pressed the stick of butter against the child's mouth. She was desperate, her words coming in rapid succession as though trying to force some kind of understanding or compliance from the tiny, innocent being in front of her.
The child, no older than a few months, didn't understand the tension or the urgency in the demon's voice. Instead, the child giggled, a small, innocent sound that rang out in the dim cabin, oblivious to the strange behavior of the creature before it. The child's hands waved in the air, kicking its legs happily, as the thick, creamy butter was smothered on its face, smeared on its lips with no real care.
The demon's eyes widened slightly at the child's response, her face twisted in confusion for a brief moment. She paused, watching the small giggles, her brow furrowing. The sound of innocent joy from the child seemed to unsettle her. It wasn't the reaction she had anticipated, but the child's laughter only drove her to press the butter harder, more forcefully, as though trying to make it understand that it needed to eat, that it needed to consume something to survive. Her frantic actions contradicted the calmness of the child's innocent demeanor.
As the butter smeared across the child's face, the demon muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with frustration. "Why aren't you hungry...?"
The child's giggles abruptly stopped, its eyes widening as it looked up, sensing something looming behind her.
"Well, well, well~ So that's why you stole normal food?" Sasori's voice was icy, his tone impossibly calm as his cold gaze fell upon the child.
The mole demon snapped her head around, her expression twisting into a snarl. "WHO THE HELL—" She barely finished her sentence before Sasori's foot connected with her chest, sending her crashing through the wall like a ragdoll, splintering wood and throwing her into the trees with a sickening thud.
The child's cries pierced the air, a shrill sound of terror that echoed through the cabin. Tiny limbs quivered as it scrambled to crawl away from Sasori, its movements unsteady and frantic.
Sasori didn't even flinch. With a practiced motion, he unsheathed his sword, the cold steel catching the dim light in a sinister gleam. Before another breath could pass, a larger, more menacing demon barreled through the door with an enraged snarl.
But Sasori was already there. His blade hovered a hair's breadth from the frozen child's delicate neck, steady and unyielding. The demon froze mid-strike, its claws suspended mere inches from Sasori's head.
Sasori's head tilted unnaturally, his sharp, narrowed eyes locking onto the intruder with unsettling calm. "Well, isn't this interesting?" he murmured, his voice dripping with predatory intensity. His gaze swept over the demon, taking in the scales that covered its body, gleaming like polished obsidian. The scales rippled across its form in thick, armor-like plates, each one shimmering with a near-mystical luster, reminiscent of a dragon's hide. The tough, reptilian exterior stretched across every inch of the demon, creating a near-impenetrable layer of protection. But where the scales failed to cover were the demon's eyes—striking and alien, marked with the ominous, X crossed over its former rank. Above them, the top of its head was bare, revealing two cruel, twisted horns that curled menacingly toward the sky.
Sasori's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. "A former Upper Moon Four," he whispered, his voice low, smooth, and devoid of compassion. "How pitiful. Fallen so low... and yet, still clinging to scraps." The air grew heavier, charged with the promise of death as his words hung in the atmosphere like a fine mist, suffocating and oppressive.
Sasori's grip on the situation tightened. The demon's hesitation spoke volumes. He needed to see—was the child important to this creature? The way it froze, its rage muted by sudden fear, answered his question. A glimmer of amusement flickered in Sasori's eyes.
Even if the demon hadn't stopped, it wouldn't have posed much of a challenge for him. But now that it had hesitated, Sasori knew the truth: the child mattered.
And that truth was worth exploiting.
"Perfect," Sasori mused darkly, his blade holding steady. "Now... Tell me why you care."