Fate Wheel | Naruto

𝟖| Negotiation

"Remember that the happiest people are not those getting more, but those giving more."
– H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

───※ ·❆· ※───

SASORI

"You know before you fucking died, right?"

"Right."

"Your body was a puppet so your dick was also wooden as well. Does that mean you were hard all the time?"

"Hidan."

"Yes, puppet dick?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Okay, puppet dick."

It had been days since they arrived at the Hidden Hot Water village, and after Hidan's constant insistence in soaking in the foaming hot springs the village had to offer, Sasori had decided that it was their last day since beforehand he had managed to capture an image of a silver-headed Sannin spying in on the female, congregated side of the hot springs. It was too much of a risk for former-criminals such as themselves to be recognised by someone as powerful as him and he knew that it wasn't worth it staying any longer or even pondering on the Sannin's perverted activities. If he pretended he didn't see it, then it never existed. Playing dumb was a speciality of his.

There was a reason why the two were binge-drinking Sake and allowing the alcohol to soak in the feeling of dread that swarmed Sasori's heart and mind. Even after death and being engulfed by a blissful silence of an extended period of time wasn't long enough for him to forget. And he didn't want to. He embraced the fact that he had killed innocent people for selfish inducements. And so, he'd remember the name of a victim he pried from a family and repent.

Her name was Orihime. She was the ten-year old daughter of a very powerful and wealthy noble family that resided somewhere in the Land of Fire where most of his endless sprees occurred. She was only just a child and she happened to be mute, so even if she screamed for help against a monster like him, no one could hear her pleads or her cries- but Sasori did. He heard it in her eyes, the fear, the anxiety, the anguish, the pain she felt when he plunged his hand through her heart and delivered her head on a silver platter- scarring the victim's family- for the sole purpose of money.

"I'm sorry, Orihime." Sasori muttered, closing his eyes as the substance burned his throat. The tingle was painful, yet satisfying. But there was not enough pain in the world for him to feel human again. Besides, monsters didn't deserve forgiveness.

"An old girlfriend you broke the heart of?"

The red-head instinctively peeled his eyes open, his grip tightening around the white, shot glass. He snorted. "Far from it actually."

The bartender raised her dark eyebrows, a flirtatious smirk on her lips. "Well, how about I make you forget all about this girl?"

There's nothing in this world that'll ever make me forget. He peered at the girl with disinterest. "How so?"

She chuckled, her hand gripping a jug as she poured another shot and slid it towards Sasori. "Well first, here's another shot. It's on the house, as well as all the other shots you devoured." She lopsidedly smiled. "Second, a name to match that cute face of yours for a start."

Sasori studied the bartender critically. Her overall appearance told him that she was not a Shinobi, she bore no headband and her exposing clothes told him that she had no weapons on her body either. Her eyes were a dull brown as well as her tied up hair, and yet when Sasori glanced down at the drink- the smell of a herb drifting into his senses- it was enough to sober him out of his grieving state and straighten his back. His survival instinct flipped on like a switch. For once he should've abided to the words of the crazed, drunken fool next to him and left before people started becoming suspicious. Not that he was going to admit that Hidan was right, his head was already big enough as it is.