Upon entering the best local arts shop, basically the only one worth visiting, actually, Sasori was greeted by the man who was always there, smiling dubiously (and fakedly) and ready to assist whoever was in need of assistance in hopes of keeping his job and thus, keeping his life intact.

"Hello, Sasori-san. In need of something, as usually?"

Sasori was well aware that the black-haired male did not like him. At all. Actually, if the man wasn't working there and if Sasori wasn't a customer and a fairly famous artist who could turn most of his other customers away and by doing this, utterly get him in trouble, there would be absolutely no way he would even tolerate the red head.

There was even a simple reason for this grudge; the other was also a fellow Club. But since he was 'only' an Eleven, he was always, without failure, overshadowed by Sasori's talents.

It had been this way ever since the other man had moved here. He was an outlander, and hence had an odd accent and many foreign honorifics he used in his speech.

"Sai," Sasori acknowledged with a nod, "Actually, yes. Some more paint would be simply delightful, seeing how  I seem to be currently running out of sea green, rose red, sky blue and.. a certain sort of purple." 

"Paint, you say?" Sai repeated, "Oil- or water-based?"

Sasori rolled his eyes in an ‘oh you have got to be joking’-manner. "Oil, if you will. Also, if you could possibly sharpen my knife? It seems to have got a little dull."

"With pleasure."

Their conversations were always like this; full of idle chit-chatter required by their customer-salesman relationship and pleasantries thrown around to mask their mutual dislike for each other.

Sai took him further into the store (not that the red head didn't know the way or anything), giving Sasori some paint bottles and having him approve them.

Just to be mean, Sasori suddenly changed his mind on the sea blue, going with cerulean blue instead. When the black-haired man handed him the purple he had wanted, however, his displeasure was genuine.

"This isn't what I'm looking for."

He looked up from the wooden shelves, taking the paint from Sasori. "This is what you always use."

Sasori didn't even want to know how the other would remember such trivial information. Maybe he was stalking him to know how his work was so good, but frankly, the red head couldn't care less.

"What I've used before doesn't matter when it's not what I want this time. Can I take a look at what you have?"

The painted-on smile staying on his face, Sai stepped aside so that Sasori could look at the paints himself.

He kneeled down to look at the colors not far from the ground level and slowly gazed them up and down for a while. He ended up silently cursing the fact that the variety wasn't actually as good as he had recalled, then sighing when he knew he'd have to settle with a shade that was a tad lighter than what he would've wanted.

"This will have to do..." he murmured, more to himself than to the other, picking up the paint that seemed to be the closest to the ideal and standing up again.

Sai seemed displeased with this remark, but he quickly hid it, nodding. "Good to hear you've found something to satisfy your tastes. I could sharpen that knife of yours now, if you would be willing to wait a few moments?"

Not bothering to honor the other with yet another uselessly long and sappy reply, Sasori simply nodded, tugging the knife from his pocket and handing it to him.

Sai disappeared into some sort of a back room, because common sense said that there was absolutely no way any sorts of blades could be sharpened in the middle of the shop, not with Jokers and thieves and murderers around.

Sasori, being left alone, shrugged his shoulders slightly, looking around the store if there would possibly be something else that would be of use for him.

It took Sai some ten minutes to have the knife sharpened. The black-haired artist then summed it all up quickly, probably wanting Sasori out of his sight as soon as possible.

"Twelve bronze for the knife, ten for each paint... That'll be thirty bronze coins, if I'm not mistaken."

Sasori took four silver coins, twelve copper coins and nine bronze coins, giving them to the other man.

Sai took them, nodding and smiling. "Have a good day, Sasori-san."

"Sure," Sasori called upon leaving the store.


Soon enough, he realized that if he wanted to avoid the crowded market as much as possible, he would have to go to the foods stalls near his house - also on the opposite side of the town.

Sadly, it could not be helped, really. Most of the food stalls were located on the southern side of city, while the art equipment store he had just exited from was on the north-western side.

Even though he disliked the market, Sasori decided to go through the same road he had followed before, the same one with the blonde artist.

Not that he wanted to see the blonde - no, the idea of that was simply absurd. He was only curious as to if the traveler had given up yet.

So he followed the road grudgingly, tugging his bag to his left shoulder and looking around himself only once in a while, preferring to keep his gaze to the ground.

Upon making his way to the part where the road widened slightly, close to the market, Sasori saw that the racket from before was still there. Surely it couldn't be because of the peculiar blonde anymore, right...?

Wrong. When he got remotely close to the spot, he could see the odd golden-colored hair and glimpses of the colorful clothes the artist wore.

Well, at least no one could say he wasn't persistent enough to survive. Sasori made a mental bet with himself - the blonde would not be there the next time he walked by. If he was, Sasori would drop a coin in that worn and seemingly self-made coin hat of his.

Though he knew very well that wouldn't happen. That's why he liked making bets with himself - he never lost them.


Before going looking for food, Sasori dropped the art equipment in his house. Simply because it was along the way, and he couldn’t be bothered to carry them with him for too long.

He visited the stall of Tenten's. This because even though he didn't like the girl selling food there, mostly because of her slightly annoying personality, she did usually have some rather fresh milk and potatoes. And fresh food was something worth tolerating the girl for.

Now that he thought about it, Sasori found himself disliking quite a number of people. But then again, his artistic, lonely lifestyle had never given him much of a chance to naturally bond with people.

And when these 'people' were mostly common workers or farmers or old people, why should he have even bothered?

Hidan was one person he did get along with. He was working under the orders of Konoha's Kage - leader -, more commonly known as Hokage, but he was still kind of interesting, mostly because he stood out from other people quite well.

He was a Jack of Hearts, something he never stopped complaining about. His rants often included many swear words and were loud and disrespectful. He just thought the suit of 'Hearts' was simply too feminine and awkward for him.

That's why he was so interesting, too. How had such a loud-mouthed, obnoxious man managed to get such an important job in the first place?

Some people said he had bribed certain people to make it, but Sasori knew better; Hidan was about as rich as one of the rats living in the red head's house.

Sasori himself believed that it was all the doing of the deity; in other words, it was the doing of Hidan's Card Mark.

Card Mark was the name of the mark that showed one's suit and number, and also one of the various reasons why it was so hard for a Joker to survive.

When someone wanted a job, people usually needed to show their Card Mark. And since Jokers only had the text 'JOKER' instead of a Card Mark, they couldn't often get themselves a real job, hence being forced to handle illegal jobs, work on the street and do certain things that would make even the toughest man feel disgusted with himself.

Also, if a Heart wanted to be a doctor, or a Spade liked the thought of farming and so on, it could provide help with their career that it matched their Card Mark; because it was what they were made for.

Probably also worked if Hidan wanted to be the right-hand man to the money-keeper of the Hokage.

"Good afternoon, Sasori," Tenten said, effectively snapping him out of his musings. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Just dropping by to see if you'd happen to have fresh milk."

"I always have fresh milk, Sasori. That's why I'm so close with Neji, after all."

Neji was the owner of the Hyuuga farm on the eastern outskirts of the town. He wasn't too high-ranked, but still a Spade, and so he had got the farm when his parents both passed away.

Neji also had a twin sister, Hinata. Rumors had it that the shy, soft-spoken girl was originally supposed to inherit the farm, but he had somehow cheated and got it for himself.

"Careful, Tenten. People might actually think you're nice if you act like that," Sasori sneered before he could stop himself. Somehow, getting along with Tenten was even more challenging than getting along with than Sai. Maybe this was because Sasori could see her Card Mark all the time; it was on her shoulder, after all. And her choice of clothing – a pink, sleeveless blouse – did absolutely no effort to hide it. Tenten was a Five of Diamonds.

“I am nice,” Tenten half-growled back. But since her personality really wasn’t that horrible, she then sighed. “So, you wanted potatoes and milk. Anything else?”

“A bread and some cheese… And you wouldn’t happen to have a spare bucket you’d be willing to part with? Mine broke down the day before yesterday.”

Tenten chuckled, “In other words, you also need water? You should know that the liquid of life doesn’t come without a price, either.”

“Do you have a bucket or not?” Sasori asked impatiently. He hated pointless chit-chatter, yes, but he hated waiting even more.

“You’re in luck,” Tenten murmured, turning around and looking for said object, “Jugo gave me one yesterday. He couldn’t afford to pay with coins, you see.” She then handed the copper-colored metal bucket to him.

He took the bucket from her, "How much would it be?"
 
"Fifteen bronze for the bread, ten for the milk and twenty for the potatoes. You can have the bucket for twenty since that's what Jugo was short and... Five for the water?  You can even have a bag since you bought so much. Deal?"
 
"So it’s a fifty." Sasori grimaced, but knew there was no way he could haggle it down from that. Besides, it wouldn't have been even near that expensive if he hadn't gone and broken that deity-damned bucket.
 
He handed her four silver coins, four copper coins and eight bronze coins. "What do you want me to tell Kankuro so he doesn't push me into the well upon first spotting me there?" he asked her annoyedly.


Kankuro was yet another fellow artist, but since he was a puppeteer, he and Sasori got along sort-of fine.
 
He was one of the people who lived in a circle around the well closest to Sasori's house. Since he had opted to be a loner, Sasori didn't live close to a well himself.

Of course, the situation of living held other downsides, as well. Like the fact that houses weren’t built like that for no reason; they were like they were to prevent wolves from entering the yard. And since there was a wide forest that spread on the eastern side of the town, the whisperings about the cruel canines were not for nothing.


"Just tell him that... Just praise Karasu some and he'll let it be.” Tenten shrugged. “Chances are you won't even run into him; he's often been talking about how he wants to go visit his brother lately."
 
Karasu was Kankuro's most treasured puppet, much like how Sasori had his prized puppet; one with the name ‘Hiruko’.
 
"The Kazekage? Sure that's a good idea, leaving to Suna at this time, of all places?" Sasori found himself asking. It wasn't like chit-chattering was one of his strong points or anything, but he couldn't imagine going to his homeland right now. Suna had been rumored to be in deep trouble, a civil war brewing in the burning hot lands.

"Personally, I think it's a horrible idea. But you try telling him that."

Sasori took this as a 'go ahead, the discussion's ended'-kind of sign and nodded.


He sneaked to the well in the small opening between two of the houses, hoping not to run into anyone as he pulled the bucket up from the well, tilting it to pour the water into his own bucket. He made sure to get as much as he could, since he hated spending his money on buying water, of all things.
 
But then again, he would have to make sure he didn't break this bucket like the last one, so he couldn't go totally overboard with it, either. He could never be sure how sturdy this thing actually was, not even when Jugo was as dedicated to his work as a blacksmith as he was.
 
"Thieving water again, Sasori?"
 
Recognizing the voice, Sasori sighed on the inside. "Don't get all defensive, Kankuro. You know, I heard about the adjustments you did to Karasu, and I must say I'm rather impressed."
 
Kankuro blinked. "Oh, so you talked to Tenten. I see, I see..."
 
"I'm not that obvious, am I?" Sasori asked, turning to look at the other male over his shoulder.
 
The brunette shrugged, "You're not. But even if Karasu was formerly your puppet, you would not praise a fellow puppeteer's efforts to make it better if you didn't have an ulterior motive to doing it."
 
"Hey, I made him ages ago. I wouldn't wonder if he was already breaking apart," Sasori defended himself. He really did not like it when other people, puppeteers or not, judged his puppets. So what if he hadn’t been the world’s best puppeteer when he had been nine? Surely he had improved from those days.
 
"I know, I know," Kankuro returned, sighing in some sort of defeat or admittance, "You made Karasu ages ago, and yet, even now, I still can't be nearly as good as you..."
 
"Practice makes perfect," Sasori murmured, shrugging and taking his bucket, milk and the bag with the bread and potatoes inside.


"Hey, Sasori… Can I make a puppet of your body when you die?" Kankuro asked him suddenly, his eyes glowing sinisterly.
 
Sasori glared at him, not wanting to find out if the other male was serious or not. "Ask me again when I'm dead."

With that, he left, but not without hearing Kankuro’s laughter echoing behind him.