Iteration
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Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male › Naruto/Sasuke
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
119
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2,650
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Category:
Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male › Naruto/Sasuke
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
119
Views:
2,650
Reviews:
1203
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This story has some of Masashi Kishimoto's characters from Naruto in a universe of my own devising. I do not own Naruto. I do not make any money from these writings.
Kaze
‘Iteration’ is part of the space saga that began with ‘In the cold of space you find the heat of suns’ and continues in ‘Tales in Tarrasade’. There is also a one-shot ‘Silver Leaf Tales: Tying the knot’.
Thanks to Small Fox for being my beta. For this story he has also been my muse, suggesting a number of the ideas that have evolved to create this arc.
Reviews or other contact is particularly welcome. Thank you to those readers who have chosen to write a review.
Apologies if the characters have grown differently in their new environment.
This is posted in the Naruto/Sasuke section because it is part of a Naru/Sasu/Naru space saga. However, it does feature many other pairings (and a few threesomes). Apologies to those who are expecting Naruto/Sasuke or Sasuke/Naruto every chapter.
Gaara is the adopted son of the ruling family of the Kaze system. He led the resistance movement against the men who had removed his family from power and enslaved his people for generations. With Uchiha’s help, the slavers were defeated and left. Gaara then abdicated in favour of his sister Temari. He is also a tanuki-human hybrid berserker who has lived most of his life forgoing emotions to reduce the risk of turning berserk at inappropriate moments. Now, like Naruto, he has a controller that knocks him unconscious if he turns berserk. He had formed an unlikely friendship with Lee, who acts as his bodyguard and carer.
Kaze V is a newly discovered planet within the Kaze system.
Want to know more? Read ‘In the cold of space you find the heat of suns’ and ‘Tales in Tarrasade’.
Chapter twelve: Kaze
Sasori did not know if this Akatsuki agent knew this particular disguise, so he was careful to sit in precisely the correct position with the two drinks and the small bowl of snacks in exactly the right pattern. He hoped that the man, it was always a man, would be prompt; he hated to be kept waiting.
The bar was busy, full of the spacers who were a feature of the new prosperity. Suna was a very different city to the one it had been four standards before, when the slavers still had Kaze pinned and at their mercy. Once the slavers had gone, with the new gates and a newly-discovered planet, Kaze thrived under Temari’s leadership.
It was all irrelevant to Sasori; the Sunagakure had slaughtered his family and he had sworn to destroy them from within.
For one heart-stopping moment he thought it was Pein himself but, no, it was one of the look-alikes. Sasori smiled and the living shell he wore smiled with him. The irony of the situation did not escape him; Pein used the same face on many bodies while Sasori had many faces on the same body.
“Hiruko-san,” the Pein look-alike greeted him, confirming that he was, as always, frighteningly thoroughly briefed.
Sasori waited, not knowing the name that this look-alike went by.
“I am Deva,” the look-alike stated.
“Deva-san,” Sasori acknowledged.
“I speak with his voice,” Deva stated.
“You speak with his voice,” Sasori agreed. It was not a good sign. It meant that Pein was sending him instructions that he was not going to want to obey.
“Orochimaru has been awakened,” Deva told him.
The bad sign had become a poor start. Pein was reasonable; Orochimaru was not.
“It was necessary,” Deva continued. “He has relevant expertise and Kabuto was always going to guard the choicest pieces of information to be gifts for his master.”
Sasori was fascinated; it really was like listening to Pein himself.
“We are interested in two lines of enquiry,” Deva informed him. “We wish to interrogate people who are close to Uchiha. Gaara the hybrid and his companion Lee were guests of Uchiha for over three standards. One of Kabuto’s operatives has tried to abduct Gaara and failed. Both Gaara and Lee are formidable fighters; a more subtle approach will be necessary. We wish you to investigate possibilities. They are on Kaze V.
“As you know, Uchiha now has a formal link to the HDL. While on Kaze V, we wish you to consider ways of infiltrating the organisation.
“These are your new priorities alongside continuing to investigate the identity of the Wizard,” Deva concluded.
Sasori stared at him through the Hiruko shell’s eyes. Didn’t they realise that most hybrids could smell a shell? As for the identity of the Wizard, the only way of confirming that was to interrogate one of the leaders of the Sunagakure, all of whom were conditioned to die rather than talk.
“There is the suggestion that there is a link between the Wizard and Shikamaru, Sasuke Uchiha’s advisor; the one called ‘The Voice in His Ear’,” Deva added.
That was useful; he would have to review the information that Mukade and Yura had provided before Gaara killed them.
“And maybe it would be possible for a representative of the Sunagakure to visit the hybrid sanctuary on Kaze V with Temari-sama’s knowledge,” Deva suggested. “Such a representative would wear a shell to protect his or her identity.”
So Pein had thought about the problem. His suggestion was worthy of consideration. What Pein did not know was that Gaara would know him. Gaara knew Sasori’s smell, shell or no shell. Would it matter if Gaara knew it was him?
“The usual resources are available,” Deva assured him. “Is there anything you wish to discuss?”
Sasori considered. “Where are Orochimaru and Kabuto?”
Deva smiled. It was Pein’s smile. “Visiting their bases. Probably The Warren,” he answered.
It could be worse; they had no plans to visit Kaze.
“I shall take my leave now, Hiruko-san,” Deva told him.
The Hiruko shell nodded. He stood and bowed as Deva took his leave.
Deva made his way back directly to his ship.
Once there he downloaded the holovid of the meeting with Sasori. He then recorded a detailed account, trying to include every thought and small detail. It was critical that it was done immediately, before the memory faded or was augmented by further thinking.
Recording and holovideo were coded, compressed, encrypted and then sent as a light speed message to the relay point.
He would sleep until his slot, lift, jump and then go into stasis until awoken by an incoming message.
This was the life of a Path. Experiences must be kept to a minimum. It was essential that Deva still thought like Pein, Otherwise his observations and, worse, his decisions would deviate from those that the original would have made.
One day the deviation between Deva and Pein would be judged too great. Then Deva would get to go home. He would cease to exist separately but that would not matter. His memories would become Pein’s. He would be where he belonged, with Konan.
Then a new Deva would be sent out as his replacement.
A word here, a planted piece of intelligence there and Sasori had his fellow members of the Sunagakure worried about the hybrid sanctuary on Kaze V. It was easy; generations of being a resistance movement had left them paranoid.
It was enjoyable. It reminded him that it did not matter that the slavers had not managed to destroy the Sunagakure. With hard work and ingenuity he should be able to trick them into self-destruction.
“Someone needs to go to Temari-sama and persuade her that such an investigation is necessary,” said a shell dressed in blue.
That confirmed what Sasori had believed, that Temari was no longer among the blue-clad leaders who attended this conference. He was pleased. The greater the gulf between the Kage and the Sunagakure, the better his chances of destroying them.
It had taken over a decade for Sasori to attain the status of a red, a senior member of the Sunagakure. He did not bank on becoming a blue, although he worked towards it.
He waited. He could not suggest himself. He had to hope that the hints he had dropped were enough.
“I have someone in mind,” another of the blue-clad shells stated. “Will you trust me to assign this task?”
“We trust you to assign this task,” the other leaders intoned.
It had worked. He was on his way to an audience with the Kage. He selected the shell most suitable for meeting a beautiful queen; handsome and muscular. When it had been alive it had been a professional athlete.
She dismissed her advisors and took him through to a private meeting room.
“Dump the shell,” she ordered. She pointed at a door.
He sighed. He had really hoped she would not insist.
Inside the room was a shower and clothes of various sizes. At least they were not only his size; she would only know it was him when he emerged.
He released the seals and peeled off the shell. He hung it on the shell-stand she had so thoughtfully provided. He went into the shower and washed away the gel, noting that there was a large bottle of the stuff next to the shell-stand; he would be able to get back into the shell before he left.
He used the blowers and dressed in the smallest of the clothes provided.
“Oh it is you, Sasori-san,” she acknowledged as he emerged. “Good.”
“It is an honour to be in your presence, Temari-sama,” he replied.
She studied him. “You never change. You still look fourteen. You’ve looked fourteen since I was five and probably long before that. How do you do it? A mixture of hormone arrest and age retard?”
He smiled. It was a genuine smile. He liked Temari. Even becoming Kage had not changed her. “Something like that. My mature body would be too large, Temari-sama, it would limit the range of shells I could use.”
“And that is still important to you?” she queried. “The slavers have gone, Sasori-san, something that many members of the Sunagakure seem incapable of understanding. You could give up the shells, let your body mature and work for me.”
There was definitely a crack between the Sunagakure and the Kage. He would endeavor to widen it.
“We are what we are, Temari-sama.” He smiled again, hoping this smile was convincing as it was less genuine. “I shall give your offer consideration,” he added.
“Good,” she acknowledged. “Your fellow Sunagakure have decided that the hybrid sanctuary has the potential to be a hotbed of dissidents and revolutionaries. Why they think so is beyond me. I would like you to investigate, but I am more interested in general observations rather than wasting too much time looking for non-existent troublemakers.”
“I am certain I can satisfy both you and the leaders of the Sunagakure, Temari-sama,” Sasori assured her.
She scowled at him. “Don’t go mealy-mouthed on me, Sasori,” she complained and then smiled.
It was not a kind smile. It reminded Sasori of how dangerous she was.
“One further thing,” she added. “Please do not underestimate what my brother and his companion Lee-san mean to me. There was an attempt to capture Gaara-sama recently, probably instigated by a hybrid engineer by the name of Kabuto but possibly by others. Any information about threats to Gaara-sama or Lee-san would be welcome.”
He understood the warning; do not do anything to harm Gaara. It raised the possibility that she believed that elements in the Sunagakure would prefer it if Gaara did not exist, which was, in fact, true.
It was the beginning of a lovely thought; if Temari thought the Sunagakure had killed Gaara she would destroy them for him.
Temari was still speaking. “Gaara will know it is you,” she reminded him.
“I realise that,” Sasori replied. “But he, like you, Temari-sama, can be trusted to keep such secrets.” He had no reason to believe that Gaara did not consider him completely loyal, if it were otherwise he would have been killed with Mukade and Yura.
Trusting Gaara with his identity would put Sasori at an advantage.
Gaara did not know how he felt about being on Kaze V.
He had loved the idea of it. He would build a hybrid sanctuary on the land Temari had gifted them. Downtrodden and abused hybrids would flee there. They would work together to build utopia. Naruto would be both impressed and delighted.
Lee had been even worse. He had talked about missions and quests and destiny. He had compared Gaara’s violent and destructive past to a benevolent and philanthropic future. There had been a lot of superlatives.
Perhaps they had encouraged each other.
The reality was very different. Hybrids were much like other people and Gaara was not good with people. Lee was not much better; he almost invariably made a poor first impression.
What they both did best was fight and the last thing they needed in the sanctuary was fighting. In fact, stopping people fighting was one of the priorities; petty quarrels between hybrids often led to lethal injuries.
Gaara had led a whole resistance movement. He told himself that he must have learnt something useful.
He knew you required the right people in the correct roles so he asked Temari to send someone who could make sure that happened. She sent a team of five experts. He told them to recruit first from among the hybrids, then the HDL staff and finally other purebreds. He said that, if at all possible, he wanted hybrids in senior roles.
He sat in on the first interviews and discovered that he had nothing to contribute. He had tried to excuse himself from subsequent interviews but one of the experts stopped him. She told him that the candidates’ reaction to his presence was useful.
So he sat through every interview. At least it meant he knew something about the people who were, nominally, working for him.
The director of the sanctuary would be an elderly turtle-human hybrid called Yagura. He had lived one hundred and seventy standards and seemed to have huge reservoirs of experience on which to draw. People, hybrid and purebred alike, reacted well to him. He would listen to them, his violet eyes studying them from his scarred and wrinkled face, and then respond in a way that showed he understood their concerns; he was kind.
The chief administrators were two toad-human hybrids who went by the names of Fukasaku and Shima. They looked older than Yagura but were not; although the species of toad their non-human genes were from was remarkably long-lived its lifespan was a fraction of that of a giant turtle. They had spent much of their lives running a huge plantation on a farm planet.
They were a couple, which was nice because long-standing relationships between hybrids were rare. However, they bickered continually, which was irritating.
Lee told Gaara it was their way of showing their love for each other.
Gaara wished they would fuck instead, like other couples.
The experts explained carefully to Gaara why Gaara himself was necessary. He was a member of the leading family of Kaze. Everyone across Kaze knew him. He was officially a hero. He had stepped down so that Temari could be Kaze, which had proved to be a popular decision.
In addition, every Kazian was terrified of him. This was very helpful when it came to settling disputes with other organisations that were operating on Kaze V.
So Gaara had stayed and become what he saw as a figurehead. He allowed the media to video him. He had six short speeches that could be adapted to almost any situation. They rolled him out when there was a meeting with local officials or representatives of other organizations.
On these occasions he concentrated on staying calm so that his controller did not knock him out. On bad days, or when there would be many people present, he took a sedative.
Sometimes he watched the media coverage. He would look at the dopey, smiling clown reciting his lines and wonder what he had become.
Lee worried about Gaara.
No matter what Lee said, no matter how often he pointed out the progress they had made, Gaara would not listen. He attributed the progress to others and refused to acknowledge that without him there would not be a hybrid sanctuary on Kaze V.
Gaara walked the site each morning with Lee at his side. He met Yagura-san daily and Fukasaku-san or Shima-san every second day. He prepared painstakingly for every media commitment or meeting.
He hated every minute of it; Lee could tell.
Then, one morning, two of the hybrids working at a local mine did not return with the others. Gaara stared at them.
“What do you mean, they are gone?” he demanded.
The bull-human hybrid looked at him helplessly. “They were in a different squad to us. A tunnel collapsed. The shift supervisor told us to go home because nothing could be done.”
“They are dead?” Gaara checked.
A female wolf-human hybrid pushed to the front. “The other miners said that they might be alive, but that the mine owners have a policy of not wasting time and resources on rescue missions.”
Lee saw the flash in Gaara’s eyes and readied himself should Gaara’s controller cut in.
“Get everyone here who has worked down a mine,” Gaara ordered, “and anyone else who is strong, healthy and able bodied and who wants to help. Sort out enough trucks and drivers.”
Lee and Gaara took the passenger seats in the cab of the first truck, which was being driven by Tsume, the wolf-human hybrid who had spoken up earlier.
“What’s happening there?” Gaara asked, pointing at the small crowd of mostly women and children at the gates of the mine.
“They are the families of the purebred miners who are trapped,” Tsume told him. “They stay there until there is no more hope.”
Lee heard Gaara growl, which was an extremely rare sound; usually a growling Gaara was either berserk or unconscious.
“They won’t let us in,” Tsume warned.
Gaara ordered the guards to open the gates. Lee hoped that they were Kazian. Either they were or they recognised the danger they were in because they did not hesitate for a moment.
Tsume glanced at Gaara and grinned before fixing her eyes on the road and accelerating through the open gate.
She had extremely impressive teeth.
The shift supervisor did consider refusing Gaara’s ‘request’ until someone whispered in his ear, his eyes widened and he garbled something that Gaara chose to interpret as consent.
It was hard and dangerous but they reduced the risks by only allowing the experienced miners in the tunnel with the collapsed section.
One hybrid and five purebred miners were dead; the other hybrid and nine purebred miners were alive.
Gaara was filthy from working in the tunnels ferrying rubble away and new tunnel supports inwards. Lee watched as he stood in front of the mine manager, who had turned up at the latest change of shift.
“Next time you call us straight away, whether there is a hybrid trapped or not,” he told him. “Nothing else is acceptable. Do you understand?”
The man looked from Gaara to the reporters with their cameras and then from the rejoicing or grieving families back to Gaara.
“I understand, Gaara-sama,” he replied.
“This is what you do every day, Gaara-san,” Lee told him as they travelled home, driven by Tsume.
Gaara turned puzzled eyes to him.
“The rescue happened because you made it happen,” Lee reminded him. “We get the permits we need because you make it happen. We get jobs for our people because you make it happen. They stopped polluting our water supply because you made it happen. We have the sanctuary because you made it happen. Today was more dramatic and urgent, but you save lives every day, Gaara-san.”
Gaara considered.
“The purebred is right,” Tsume added, never taking her eyes off the road. “You make it happen, Gaara-san.”
Lee saw the first hint of pride in Gaara’s eyes.
Sasori had to travel from the spaceport to the sanctuary in the cab of a truck carrying supplies. He had not been in a vehicle with such poor suspension on a rougher road for decades, if ever.
Even a good shell wasn’t comfortable under such circumstances and Sasori only had the best. He made them himself, from living bodies that died sometime early in the process; Sasori was careful to make sure that their deaths were painless.
Making shells from living people was, of course, illegal. In the new Kaze, with its respect for life, Sasori had to go to a great deal of effort to ensure that his targets appeared to die before he acquired their bodies.
Once they were officially dead it was legal, not that shells make from dead bodies were ever anything more than second rate. Shells needed to be made from a living body, either a person or a clone grown for the purpose.
He stopped thinking about shells; it only reminded him how uncomfortable he was within the ones he was wearing. Instead he concentrated on the task at hand.
He had been careful to select a truck that was not owned by the sanctuary. The driver was garrulous, which had been annoying but could be useful.
“What do you think of the hybrid sanctuary?” Sasori asked.
The driver started on one of his rambling replies. “Well, you know, at first we weren’t too happy. I mean, they’re from off planet, even out of system, and some of them look, you know, strange. But then, well, you meet some of them and they’re just people, a bit, you know, weird looking, but just people. Everyone knows they work hard and, well, they’re careful to keep to themselves. Not that they’re not community minded. I mean, look at the mine collapse. The mine owners would have let those men die. Not Gaara-sama. He brought his miners and they, you know, risked getting caught in another collapse digging them out. Saved nine men’s lives.”
The driver looked at him, which was disconcerting given that the poor quality of the road made paying attention essential.
“Gaara-sama himself worked in one of the tunnels,” the driver told him.
“How amazing,” Sasori replied, hoping that the man would return his gaze to the road.
He did. “Think of it, Gaara-sama himself,” he repeated.
The hybrids were, indeed, strange. There were not that many hybrids in the Kaze system; there had not been much demand for them in a system run by slavers. Sasori had always thought of Gaara when he thought of hybrids; exotic but perfect.
Gaara was obviously the exception.
He was met by an aging but not yet aged woman whose non-human genes appeared to come from a dog or a wolf.
“I’m Tsume,” she told him. She sniffed the air. “Gaara-sama said you’d smell weird.” She sneezed. “By the Lady you smell bad. No offense, but do you have to wear that thing?”
Sasori could not help but be offended. His shells did not smell. “Yes, it is essential that my identity should be concealed.”
She laughed. There was a barking quality to it. “Well it works. Can’t tell what you smell like with that stink covering it.”
Tsume conducted him to an office, waved him inside and stomped away. Like the rest of what he had seen, the room and its furniture were cheap and functional. It was also extremely neat.
Gaara was the same yet different. His posture and body language had changed; Sasori’s main reaction to him was no longer fear.
Sasori’s gaze went to the narrow choker collar around his neck; the controller that had engendered so much discussion among the Sunagakure.
With him was an odd looking man with very round eyes and huge eyebrows that appeared to have a life of their own. He assumed the man was Lee.
“Hitokugutsu-san,” Gaara acknowledged, obviously amused at the name he had taken.
It was a shock to realise that he could read emotions in Gaara’s expression and behaviour.
He bowed. “Gaara-sama, Lee-san,” he replied.
“It is good to meet with you again,” Gaara told him, which told Sasori that, as he had expected, Gaara knew who was inside the shell. “Welcome to The Sanctuary.”
Thanks to Small Fox for being my beta. For this story he has also been my muse, suggesting a number of the ideas that have evolved to create this arc.
Reviews or other contact is particularly welcome. Thank you to those readers who have chosen to write a review.
Apologies if the characters have grown differently in their new environment.
This is posted in the Naruto/Sasuke section because it is part of a Naru/Sasu/Naru space saga. However, it does feature many other pairings (and a few threesomes). Apologies to those who are expecting Naruto/Sasuke or Sasuke/Naruto every chapter.
Gaara is the adopted son of the ruling family of the Kaze system. He led the resistance movement against the men who had removed his family from power and enslaved his people for generations. With Uchiha’s help, the slavers were defeated and left. Gaara then abdicated in favour of his sister Temari. He is also a tanuki-human hybrid berserker who has lived most of his life forgoing emotions to reduce the risk of turning berserk at inappropriate moments. Now, like Naruto, he has a controller that knocks him unconscious if he turns berserk. He had formed an unlikely friendship with Lee, who acts as his bodyguard and carer.
Kaze V is a newly discovered planet within the Kaze system.
Want to know more? Read ‘In the cold of space you find the heat of suns’ and ‘Tales in Tarrasade’.
Chapter twelve: Kaze
Sasori did not know if this Akatsuki agent knew this particular disguise, so he was careful to sit in precisely the correct position with the two drinks and the small bowl of snacks in exactly the right pattern. He hoped that the man, it was always a man, would be prompt; he hated to be kept waiting.
The bar was busy, full of the spacers who were a feature of the new prosperity. Suna was a very different city to the one it had been four standards before, when the slavers still had Kaze pinned and at their mercy. Once the slavers had gone, with the new gates and a newly-discovered planet, Kaze thrived under Temari’s leadership.
It was all irrelevant to Sasori; the Sunagakure had slaughtered his family and he had sworn to destroy them from within.
For one heart-stopping moment he thought it was Pein himself but, no, it was one of the look-alikes. Sasori smiled and the living shell he wore smiled with him. The irony of the situation did not escape him; Pein used the same face on many bodies while Sasori had many faces on the same body.
“Hiruko-san,” the Pein look-alike greeted him, confirming that he was, as always, frighteningly thoroughly briefed.
Sasori waited, not knowing the name that this look-alike went by.
“I am Deva,” the look-alike stated.
“Deva-san,” Sasori acknowledged.
“I speak with his voice,” Deva stated.
“You speak with his voice,” Sasori agreed. It was not a good sign. It meant that Pein was sending him instructions that he was not going to want to obey.
“Orochimaru has been awakened,” Deva told him.
The bad sign had become a poor start. Pein was reasonable; Orochimaru was not.
“It was necessary,” Deva continued. “He has relevant expertise and Kabuto was always going to guard the choicest pieces of information to be gifts for his master.”
Sasori was fascinated; it really was like listening to Pein himself.
“We are interested in two lines of enquiry,” Deva informed him. “We wish to interrogate people who are close to Uchiha. Gaara the hybrid and his companion Lee were guests of Uchiha for over three standards. One of Kabuto’s operatives has tried to abduct Gaara and failed. Both Gaara and Lee are formidable fighters; a more subtle approach will be necessary. We wish you to investigate possibilities. They are on Kaze V.
“As you know, Uchiha now has a formal link to the HDL. While on Kaze V, we wish you to consider ways of infiltrating the organisation.
“These are your new priorities alongside continuing to investigate the identity of the Wizard,” Deva concluded.
Sasori stared at him through the Hiruko shell’s eyes. Didn’t they realise that most hybrids could smell a shell? As for the identity of the Wizard, the only way of confirming that was to interrogate one of the leaders of the Sunagakure, all of whom were conditioned to die rather than talk.
“There is the suggestion that there is a link between the Wizard and Shikamaru, Sasuke Uchiha’s advisor; the one called ‘The Voice in His Ear’,” Deva added.
That was useful; he would have to review the information that Mukade and Yura had provided before Gaara killed them.
“And maybe it would be possible for a representative of the Sunagakure to visit the hybrid sanctuary on Kaze V with Temari-sama’s knowledge,” Deva suggested. “Such a representative would wear a shell to protect his or her identity.”
So Pein had thought about the problem. His suggestion was worthy of consideration. What Pein did not know was that Gaara would know him. Gaara knew Sasori’s smell, shell or no shell. Would it matter if Gaara knew it was him?
“The usual resources are available,” Deva assured him. “Is there anything you wish to discuss?”
Sasori considered. “Where are Orochimaru and Kabuto?”
Deva smiled. It was Pein’s smile. “Visiting their bases. Probably The Warren,” he answered.
It could be worse; they had no plans to visit Kaze.
“I shall take my leave now, Hiruko-san,” Deva told him.
The Hiruko shell nodded. He stood and bowed as Deva took his leave.
Deva made his way back directly to his ship.
Once there he downloaded the holovid of the meeting with Sasori. He then recorded a detailed account, trying to include every thought and small detail. It was critical that it was done immediately, before the memory faded or was augmented by further thinking.
Recording and holovideo were coded, compressed, encrypted and then sent as a light speed message to the relay point.
He would sleep until his slot, lift, jump and then go into stasis until awoken by an incoming message.
This was the life of a Path. Experiences must be kept to a minimum. It was essential that Deva still thought like Pein, Otherwise his observations and, worse, his decisions would deviate from those that the original would have made.
One day the deviation between Deva and Pein would be judged too great. Then Deva would get to go home. He would cease to exist separately but that would not matter. His memories would become Pein’s. He would be where he belonged, with Konan.
Then a new Deva would be sent out as his replacement.
A word here, a planted piece of intelligence there and Sasori had his fellow members of the Sunagakure worried about the hybrid sanctuary on Kaze V. It was easy; generations of being a resistance movement had left them paranoid.
It was enjoyable. It reminded him that it did not matter that the slavers had not managed to destroy the Sunagakure. With hard work and ingenuity he should be able to trick them into self-destruction.
“Someone needs to go to Temari-sama and persuade her that such an investigation is necessary,” said a shell dressed in blue.
That confirmed what Sasori had believed, that Temari was no longer among the blue-clad leaders who attended this conference. He was pleased. The greater the gulf between the Kage and the Sunagakure, the better his chances of destroying them.
It had taken over a decade for Sasori to attain the status of a red, a senior member of the Sunagakure. He did not bank on becoming a blue, although he worked towards it.
He waited. He could not suggest himself. He had to hope that the hints he had dropped were enough.
“I have someone in mind,” another of the blue-clad shells stated. “Will you trust me to assign this task?”
“We trust you to assign this task,” the other leaders intoned.
It had worked. He was on his way to an audience with the Kage. He selected the shell most suitable for meeting a beautiful queen; handsome and muscular. When it had been alive it had been a professional athlete.
She dismissed her advisors and took him through to a private meeting room.
“Dump the shell,” she ordered. She pointed at a door.
He sighed. He had really hoped she would not insist.
Inside the room was a shower and clothes of various sizes. At least they were not only his size; she would only know it was him when he emerged.
He released the seals and peeled off the shell. He hung it on the shell-stand she had so thoughtfully provided. He went into the shower and washed away the gel, noting that there was a large bottle of the stuff next to the shell-stand; he would be able to get back into the shell before he left.
He used the blowers and dressed in the smallest of the clothes provided.
“Oh it is you, Sasori-san,” she acknowledged as he emerged. “Good.”
“It is an honour to be in your presence, Temari-sama,” he replied.
She studied him. “You never change. You still look fourteen. You’ve looked fourteen since I was five and probably long before that. How do you do it? A mixture of hormone arrest and age retard?”
He smiled. It was a genuine smile. He liked Temari. Even becoming Kage had not changed her. “Something like that. My mature body would be too large, Temari-sama, it would limit the range of shells I could use.”
“And that is still important to you?” she queried. “The slavers have gone, Sasori-san, something that many members of the Sunagakure seem incapable of understanding. You could give up the shells, let your body mature and work for me.”
There was definitely a crack between the Sunagakure and the Kage. He would endeavor to widen it.
“We are what we are, Temari-sama.” He smiled again, hoping this smile was convincing as it was less genuine. “I shall give your offer consideration,” he added.
“Good,” she acknowledged. “Your fellow Sunagakure have decided that the hybrid sanctuary has the potential to be a hotbed of dissidents and revolutionaries. Why they think so is beyond me. I would like you to investigate, but I am more interested in general observations rather than wasting too much time looking for non-existent troublemakers.”
“I am certain I can satisfy both you and the leaders of the Sunagakure, Temari-sama,” Sasori assured her.
She scowled at him. “Don’t go mealy-mouthed on me, Sasori,” she complained and then smiled.
It was not a kind smile. It reminded Sasori of how dangerous she was.
“One further thing,” she added. “Please do not underestimate what my brother and his companion Lee-san mean to me. There was an attempt to capture Gaara-sama recently, probably instigated by a hybrid engineer by the name of Kabuto but possibly by others. Any information about threats to Gaara-sama or Lee-san would be welcome.”
He understood the warning; do not do anything to harm Gaara. It raised the possibility that she believed that elements in the Sunagakure would prefer it if Gaara did not exist, which was, in fact, true.
It was the beginning of a lovely thought; if Temari thought the Sunagakure had killed Gaara she would destroy them for him.
Temari was still speaking. “Gaara will know it is you,” she reminded him.
“I realise that,” Sasori replied. “But he, like you, Temari-sama, can be trusted to keep such secrets.” He had no reason to believe that Gaara did not consider him completely loyal, if it were otherwise he would have been killed with Mukade and Yura.
Trusting Gaara with his identity would put Sasori at an advantage.
Gaara did not know how he felt about being on Kaze V.
He had loved the idea of it. He would build a hybrid sanctuary on the land Temari had gifted them. Downtrodden and abused hybrids would flee there. They would work together to build utopia. Naruto would be both impressed and delighted.
Lee had been even worse. He had talked about missions and quests and destiny. He had compared Gaara’s violent and destructive past to a benevolent and philanthropic future. There had been a lot of superlatives.
Perhaps they had encouraged each other.
The reality was very different. Hybrids were much like other people and Gaara was not good with people. Lee was not much better; he almost invariably made a poor first impression.
What they both did best was fight and the last thing they needed in the sanctuary was fighting. In fact, stopping people fighting was one of the priorities; petty quarrels between hybrids often led to lethal injuries.
Gaara had led a whole resistance movement. He told himself that he must have learnt something useful.
He knew you required the right people in the correct roles so he asked Temari to send someone who could make sure that happened. She sent a team of five experts. He told them to recruit first from among the hybrids, then the HDL staff and finally other purebreds. He said that, if at all possible, he wanted hybrids in senior roles.
He sat in on the first interviews and discovered that he had nothing to contribute. He had tried to excuse himself from subsequent interviews but one of the experts stopped him. She told him that the candidates’ reaction to his presence was useful.
So he sat through every interview. At least it meant he knew something about the people who were, nominally, working for him.
The director of the sanctuary would be an elderly turtle-human hybrid called Yagura. He had lived one hundred and seventy standards and seemed to have huge reservoirs of experience on which to draw. People, hybrid and purebred alike, reacted well to him. He would listen to them, his violet eyes studying them from his scarred and wrinkled face, and then respond in a way that showed he understood their concerns; he was kind.
The chief administrators were two toad-human hybrids who went by the names of Fukasaku and Shima. They looked older than Yagura but were not; although the species of toad their non-human genes were from was remarkably long-lived its lifespan was a fraction of that of a giant turtle. They had spent much of their lives running a huge plantation on a farm planet.
They were a couple, which was nice because long-standing relationships between hybrids were rare. However, they bickered continually, which was irritating.
Lee told Gaara it was their way of showing their love for each other.
Gaara wished they would fuck instead, like other couples.
The experts explained carefully to Gaara why Gaara himself was necessary. He was a member of the leading family of Kaze. Everyone across Kaze knew him. He was officially a hero. He had stepped down so that Temari could be Kaze, which had proved to be a popular decision.
In addition, every Kazian was terrified of him. This was very helpful when it came to settling disputes with other organisations that were operating on Kaze V.
So Gaara had stayed and become what he saw as a figurehead. He allowed the media to video him. He had six short speeches that could be adapted to almost any situation. They rolled him out when there was a meeting with local officials or representatives of other organizations.
On these occasions he concentrated on staying calm so that his controller did not knock him out. On bad days, or when there would be many people present, he took a sedative.
Sometimes he watched the media coverage. He would look at the dopey, smiling clown reciting his lines and wonder what he had become.
Lee worried about Gaara.
No matter what Lee said, no matter how often he pointed out the progress they had made, Gaara would not listen. He attributed the progress to others and refused to acknowledge that without him there would not be a hybrid sanctuary on Kaze V.
Gaara walked the site each morning with Lee at his side. He met Yagura-san daily and Fukasaku-san or Shima-san every second day. He prepared painstakingly for every media commitment or meeting.
He hated every minute of it; Lee could tell.
Then, one morning, two of the hybrids working at a local mine did not return with the others. Gaara stared at them.
“What do you mean, they are gone?” he demanded.
The bull-human hybrid looked at him helplessly. “They were in a different squad to us. A tunnel collapsed. The shift supervisor told us to go home because nothing could be done.”
“They are dead?” Gaara checked.
A female wolf-human hybrid pushed to the front. “The other miners said that they might be alive, but that the mine owners have a policy of not wasting time and resources on rescue missions.”
Lee saw the flash in Gaara’s eyes and readied himself should Gaara’s controller cut in.
“Get everyone here who has worked down a mine,” Gaara ordered, “and anyone else who is strong, healthy and able bodied and who wants to help. Sort out enough trucks and drivers.”
Lee and Gaara took the passenger seats in the cab of the first truck, which was being driven by Tsume, the wolf-human hybrid who had spoken up earlier.
“What’s happening there?” Gaara asked, pointing at the small crowd of mostly women and children at the gates of the mine.
“They are the families of the purebred miners who are trapped,” Tsume told him. “They stay there until there is no more hope.”
Lee heard Gaara growl, which was an extremely rare sound; usually a growling Gaara was either berserk or unconscious.
“They won’t let us in,” Tsume warned.
Gaara ordered the guards to open the gates. Lee hoped that they were Kazian. Either they were or they recognised the danger they were in because they did not hesitate for a moment.
Tsume glanced at Gaara and grinned before fixing her eyes on the road and accelerating through the open gate.
She had extremely impressive teeth.
The shift supervisor did consider refusing Gaara’s ‘request’ until someone whispered in his ear, his eyes widened and he garbled something that Gaara chose to interpret as consent.
It was hard and dangerous but they reduced the risks by only allowing the experienced miners in the tunnel with the collapsed section.
One hybrid and five purebred miners were dead; the other hybrid and nine purebred miners were alive.
Gaara was filthy from working in the tunnels ferrying rubble away and new tunnel supports inwards. Lee watched as he stood in front of the mine manager, who had turned up at the latest change of shift.
“Next time you call us straight away, whether there is a hybrid trapped or not,” he told him. “Nothing else is acceptable. Do you understand?”
The man looked from Gaara to the reporters with their cameras and then from the rejoicing or grieving families back to Gaara.
“I understand, Gaara-sama,” he replied.
“This is what you do every day, Gaara-san,” Lee told him as they travelled home, driven by Tsume.
Gaara turned puzzled eyes to him.
“The rescue happened because you made it happen,” Lee reminded him. “We get the permits we need because you make it happen. We get jobs for our people because you make it happen. They stopped polluting our water supply because you made it happen. We have the sanctuary because you made it happen. Today was more dramatic and urgent, but you save lives every day, Gaara-san.”
Gaara considered.
“The purebred is right,” Tsume added, never taking her eyes off the road. “You make it happen, Gaara-san.”
Lee saw the first hint of pride in Gaara’s eyes.
Sasori had to travel from the spaceport to the sanctuary in the cab of a truck carrying supplies. He had not been in a vehicle with such poor suspension on a rougher road for decades, if ever.
Even a good shell wasn’t comfortable under such circumstances and Sasori only had the best. He made them himself, from living bodies that died sometime early in the process; Sasori was careful to make sure that their deaths were painless.
Making shells from living people was, of course, illegal. In the new Kaze, with its respect for life, Sasori had to go to a great deal of effort to ensure that his targets appeared to die before he acquired their bodies.
Once they were officially dead it was legal, not that shells make from dead bodies were ever anything more than second rate. Shells needed to be made from a living body, either a person or a clone grown for the purpose.
He stopped thinking about shells; it only reminded him how uncomfortable he was within the ones he was wearing. Instead he concentrated on the task at hand.
He had been careful to select a truck that was not owned by the sanctuary. The driver was garrulous, which had been annoying but could be useful.
“What do you think of the hybrid sanctuary?” Sasori asked.
The driver started on one of his rambling replies. “Well, you know, at first we weren’t too happy. I mean, they’re from off planet, even out of system, and some of them look, you know, strange. But then, well, you meet some of them and they’re just people, a bit, you know, weird looking, but just people. Everyone knows they work hard and, well, they’re careful to keep to themselves. Not that they’re not community minded. I mean, look at the mine collapse. The mine owners would have let those men die. Not Gaara-sama. He brought his miners and they, you know, risked getting caught in another collapse digging them out. Saved nine men’s lives.”
The driver looked at him, which was disconcerting given that the poor quality of the road made paying attention essential.
“Gaara-sama himself worked in one of the tunnels,” the driver told him.
“How amazing,” Sasori replied, hoping that the man would return his gaze to the road.
He did. “Think of it, Gaara-sama himself,” he repeated.
The hybrids were, indeed, strange. There were not that many hybrids in the Kaze system; there had not been much demand for them in a system run by slavers. Sasori had always thought of Gaara when he thought of hybrids; exotic but perfect.
Gaara was obviously the exception.
He was met by an aging but not yet aged woman whose non-human genes appeared to come from a dog or a wolf.
“I’m Tsume,” she told him. She sniffed the air. “Gaara-sama said you’d smell weird.” She sneezed. “By the Lady you smell bad. No offense, but do you have to wear that thing?”
Sasori could not help but be offended. His shells did not smell. “Yes, it is essential that my identity should be concealed.”
She laughed. There was a barking quality to it. “Well it works. Can’t tell what you smell like with that stink covering it.”
Tsume conducted him to an office, waved him inside and stomped away. Like the rest of what he had seen, the room and its furniture were cheap and functional. It was also extremely neat.
Gaara was the same yet different. His posture and body language had changed; Sasori’s main reaction to him was no longer fear.
Sasori’s gaze went to the narrow choker collar around his neck; the controller that had engendered so much discussion among the Sunagakure.
With him was an odd looking man with very round eyes and huge eyebrows that appeared to have a life of their own. He assumed the man was Lee.
“Hitokugutsu-san,” Gaara acknowledged, obviously amused at the name he had taken.
It was a shock to realise that he could read emotions in Gaara’s expression and behaviour.
He bowed. “Gaara-sama, Lee-san,” he replied.
“It is good to meet with you again,” Gaara told him, which told Sasori that, as he had expected, Gaara knew who was inside the shell. “Welcome to The Sanctuary.”