18: Instruments of Manipulation by Mizudoriko(Naruto)

Fic Type:Si

Si as Sasori with artistic tendencies.

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Instruments of Manipulation

By: Mizudoriko

Sometimes, life gives him existential crises. Other times, it drowns him in paint and toxic fumes only for him to wake up in a hospital of a fictional world. Then he realizes he'd somehow hijacked the body of a canon character who got killed by Sakura and shit just got real. All he wanted to do was finish the final project of his art major. Sasori did not sign up for this insanity.

Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Sasori, Chiyo - Chapters: 17 - Words: 47,908 - Reviews: 164 - Favs: 386 - Follows: 486 - Updated: Sep 1, 2019 - Published: Jun 9, 2019 - id: 13307196

Link:https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13307196/1/Instruments-of-Manipulation

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Chapter 1

I own my idea, not Naruto.

He supposes that there were better ways to go, because honestly, how many people would die via drowning in paint?

Apparently, he does.

In his defense, he was extremely sleep deprived and procrastinating heavily on an art project that he needed to turn in the very next day. This project also coincidentally had his entire art major hinging off of it.

It was also three in the morning.

There was never a time that he cursed his fatal procrastination issues. Especially since his procrastination issues turned out to be literally fatal.

Funny how that worked out, huh?

The combination of toxic fumes from the various open paint cans and him being literally dead on his feet caused him to pass out into one of those various cans of paint he had lying next to the canvas. That was apparently enough to kill him. Well, he's assuming that he's dead since the last thing he remembers is the paint filling his screaming lungs. He feels that his chances of survival from that incident are pretty low. It's not as if anyone will check on him for the next few hours.

Now, all he can see is….blaring orange? What?

His knee jerk reaction is to move and open his eyes, to his overwhelming surprise, he's capable of doing both.

'I thought I was dead? Well, hey, I'm not going to complain. Now all I need to do is just convince the hospital staff to let me leave so I can finish my—'

"He's awake!"

He jerks his head towards the sudden sound, concern blossoming immediately because the person who spoke looks like they walked straight out of some sort of live action version of Naruto.

The Suna hitai ate kinda gave it away. He's got to give them credit though, the costume is really well done and the scars even look real—Oh dear God, they are real. Well, they must be extremely dedicated? He just wants to know why they're in the same room as him and where the nurses are so he can check out.

Or he's delusional.

Yeah, that sounds about right, he's still high off of the fumes.

"Sasori?"

The new voice caused him to turn away from the eccentric "actor" only for him to be faced with someone he could only call the living clone of Chiyo.

'Wow, I want to see this movie when it comes out, they have really good actors. Kudos to the director. That and it's high time I got back to binge-watching Naruto...just...after I finish my project.'

Seeing that the situation is getting interesting he decides to wait, he has a viable excuse for turning in his project late...the professor likes him, that should count for something, right? Right?! He really hopes that he doesn't have to retake the entire course, that would suck. Big time.

Four years down the drain.

Besides, she said Sasori and he wants to see what the actor for them looks like.

"Sasori, are you alright?"

Suddenly, the situation doesn't seem so amusing anymore, because the Chiyo look-alike is looking directly at him when she said that.

For the first time since he woke up, he realizes that something is horribly, horribly wrong. The fuzziness in his head clears as panic and adrenaline sets in because something isn't right and it's him. Looking down, he sees small childish fingers clutching the hospital issued blankets tight enough for the knuckles to turn white. These are not his fingers, these are not the fingers of an art major college student. His hands are supposed to be calloused, slightly cracked, his nails are supposed to be chipped from the pottery wheel—where are the paint stains? His hands for the past two years had been permanently stained with paint.

His beloved paint, what about his paintings?

Calm down. Stop. Hyperventilating.

Breathe in.

Out.

In.

Hold.

Count to ten.

Exhale.

Wait, that's not right...no, don't think about that.

He focuses on his breathing, vaguely aware that the Chiyo actress rushes toward him in alarm while the other actor in the room hurries out of the room calling for a nurse.

Finally unable to take it anymore, he pushes his way out of the unwanted embrace, stumbling onto the cold sterile floors.

Oh, the pattern is nice, it's a variation of windmill combined with a basket weave.

He barely registers that he doesn't have any shoes on, just that he is much, much shorter than he is supposed to be.

Somehow, he manages to choke his next words out, voice soft and small and—and so very alien,

"Ba-bathroom?"

Chiyo's—he realizes that this is no longer a show, but if he is right then-then he's...he doesn't want to finish that thought—concern lessens somewhat as she gets off of the hospital bed, gesturing for him to follow.

He follows her, ignoring her concerned glances back at him

They reach the bathroom without much fanfare, he goes in, opening the door mind still in an uproar. Seeing the mirror hanging above a sink, he makes a beeline for it.

Gazing back at him are hazel eyes, messy red hair, and a face that is most certainly not his. He used to be one of those people whose face no one ever remembers, average and plain.

But this one, this one certainly won the genetic lottery because there is no way eyes are supposed to be able to be that large, nevermind that they're half closed.

Huh, how large can they get if he opens them all the way?

Ooooh, bad idea, he looks unhinged.

Slapping his cheeks in an attempt to snap himself out of his tangent, he breathes out a sigh.

'I am so, so dead.'

Because if he's right—he's pretty sure he's right—then he somehow became an anime character of all things and one that gets killed off to boot. Even if he does get killed off somewhere in his midlife crisis, there is no way the 'Must-become-a-puppet-because-dear-lord-my-face-just-spawned-a-wrinkle' phase is not a mid-life crisis.

'Am I dissing myself? Wait, technically we are different people right? Canon? Oh no, CANON!'

He's coping surprisingly well, the new chibi face might have something to do with it.

'But I don't wanna die again, besides, stabbed to death by puppets is super melodramatic…'

As he is pondering—gushing, he's gushing—his new face and identity, Chiyo knocks on the door,

"Sasori, are you alright?"

Well...he forgot that his new grandmother existed, a prime example of what not to do when you wake up in someone else's body. Especially if you wake up an Uchiha, because you never know, the massacre might be just around the corner. Which is why he is eternally glad that his character only has one family member left and no parents, it'll be significantly easier to adapt. Parents will know immediately that something is wrong, but from what he remembers of the anime, Chiyo never really knew much about her grandson, or maybe she was just being distant?

Wait, are his parents still alive at this point?

When did Sasori's parents become his? He has perfectly functioning ones. Oh wait, maybe when he woke up in someone else's body.

He shoos those thoughts into a filing cabinet in his mind, he'll ponder them later, because he suspects if he takes too long to answer his grandma will literally break down the bathroom door. After walking towards the door and turning the knob, he hesitantly opens it, peering up at the elderly woman.

What comes out of his mouth next is entirely unintentional,

"I forbid you to murder me, Grandma."

Inwardly he's freaking out because that was not what he meant to say, he keeps his face carefully blank as Chiyo's features flash through a multitude of emotions—confusion, horror, sorrow, and funnily enough, exasperation.

He wonders if such statements coming from the previous Sasori were normal occurrences.

"Sasori, where did you get that idea?"

He pauses, tilting his head in thought, it's not as if he can just say, "Yeah, I'm not actually your grandson but I do know that you kill him in the future with puppets of his mother and father because karma is like that," because that will go over so well.

He settles for,

"Because I might make you mad with what I'm going to say next?"

Chiyo, smiles at him, joints creaking while crouching down so that he's eye level,

"I promise not to be mad."

He lets go of the door, and looks down at his chubby fingers, bringing them together in what he hopes looks like hesitancy and guilt.

Actually no, to hell with it, he's done with life right now,

"I seem to have developed a fascinating case of amnesia. Though I would be more enthused if only it weren't so inconvenient."

He turns his head back up just in time to watch horror and even more sorrow war their way across her face.

"You don't...remember?"

He shakes his head.

They stand there in silence while his statement sinks in.

"You don't remember anything? Anything at all?"

He shuffles his feet a little, fidgeting under her hopeful gaze because now is the moment guilt sets in,

"...no."

She looks like her world just shattered and he winces internally.

'It's better this way, at least I probably won't be betraying and leaving the village. There is no way anyone is going to make me touch Akatsuki with a forty-two million feet pole.'

"Ah...I see," Chiyo doesn't look like she's seeing much of anything, staring blankly off into space, "Come, I'll get check you out of the hospital and we'll go home."

She stands up, still trancelike, and walks down the hall, this time not bothering to see if he's following. Chiyo doesn't appear to be computing anything, hopefully, she wouldn't be so negligent normally? He scrambles after her, hastily shutting the bathroom door behind him and slipping his small hand into her loose ones. Chiyo snaps out of her shock, turning her head down towards him in askance,

"If you fill me in, perhaps I'll remember?"

Her eyes widen a little before softening, she gives him a shaky smile,

"Of course."

Ugh, now he feels worse than dirt for leading her on like that because there's no way he'll remember something that didn't even happen to him. And everything he's done up to this point has only been centered around him, with barely any consideration for his grandmother.

He remembers reading something about Sasori somewhere online, 'Why become a criminal and disappoint your grandma when you could have been an awful babysitter?'

'I just hope I don't actually get stuck with the Sand sibs, that would be a whole 'nother level of chaos.'

So I had a plan...a perfectly good one, one that includes focusing on the few fics I have.

And then this happened.

Do I regret it? No.

Will I ask myself why later? Definitely.

Do I know where this is going? Ask me a few years later and I might have an answer.

Anyway! Thanks for reading!