Ever since his encounter with Orochimaru, Sasori had undergone a complete transformation. With the ninja academy on summer break, there were no classes to attend, and the once mischievous and lively boy now seemed like a walking corpse. He ate and slept absentmindedly, his gaze often vacant.
At times, his brows furrowed deeply; at others, he would sit silently in a daze. Occasionally, he muttered to himself like a madman, and sometimes, as if struck by inspiration, he would grab a sheet of paper and start sketching designs. Chiyo watched all of this with growing concern. Her precious grandson, the apple of her eye, was behaving so erratically that she feared he might lose his mind. If that were to happen, how could she face her late husband, Reito, in the afterlife?
Things took an even more drastic turn when Sasori locked himself in his workshop with a mountain of materials and puppet manuals. He refused to come out, taking care of all his needs—eating, drinking, even relieving himself—inside.
When Chiyo brought him meals, he completely ignored her, consumed by either sketching blueprints or carving wood. He stopped brushing his teeth, bathing, and even sleeping, staying awake through the nights. His once bright eyes were now bloodshot, crusted with sleep, and his body had grown visibly thinner.
Chiyo's heart ached terribly. She tried persuading him, coaxing him, and even scolding him, but Sasori remained stubbornly unresponsive. Eventually, he went so far as to lock the workshop door from the inside, leaving only a small window through which meals could be passed.
This left Chiyo utterly distraught. She was so frustrated that she felt like hanging herself. With no outlet for her anger, she unleashed her fury on Sasori's parents, Kumaki and Shuji Akasuna, berating them mercilessly.
"You heartless pair! As parents, all you do is busy yourselves outside while your child is on the verge of losing his mind! Don't you care at all?!"
The Akasuna couple, however, were just as baffled. Though they were often busy with work, they always made time for their son. How could they have foreseen such bizarre behavior?
"Do you think he might have been traumatized by something?" Shuji muttered.
"Hmm?!" Chiyo's eyebrows shot up. That made sense! Swallowing her pride, she went to seek help from Rasa, the head of Sunagakure's Intelligence Division.
Rasa, overwhelmed with his own workload, was caught between laughter and tears. "I'm so busy I wish I could split myself in two, and now you want me to investigate your grandson's psychological issues?" Still, since the request came from his former superior and wasn't an unreasonable one, he assigned a few idle intelligence agents to look into it.
The matter wasn't complicated. Within a day, one of the agents returned with the story, having heard the details from Master Bunpuku.
When Chiyo learned the truth, she was livid. How dare Orochimaru, a renowned figure in the ninja world, come to Sunagakure and bully her grandson? Did he have no shame? Upon discovering that Orochimaru had been staying at Jinghang's residence, she stormed into the Kazekage's office, demanding justice.
"Orochimaru has already left," Jinghang said with a helpless shrug.
"Then I'll go to Konoha and settle the score with him! You may fear Konoha, but I, an old widow, do not! If I don't take his head, I'll leave these old bones of mine in their village!"
Chiyo turned to leave, but Jinghang quickly stepped forward to stop her.
"Please, don't be hasty. Your bones are far too precious to be left outside the village."
He gently pulled Chiyo back and began persuading her with kind words. This doting grandmother was clearly willing to do anything for her grandson.
"Take a seat, have some tea, and let's talk this through. What exactly happened?"
Chiyo then recounted everything, from Sasori's encounter with Orochimaru to his current state, her voice trembling with emotion. By the end, she was in tears.
Jinghang listened quietly for a long time before slapping his thigh with a grin.
"What a kid! Such ambition! He truly is Reito's grandson!"
Chiyo, confused, looked at him with tear-filled eyes.
"My guess is that the boy lost to Orochimaru in their encounter and is now holed up, determined to train and seek revenge."
"Really?" Chiyo was taken aback.
"Here's what we'll do: I'll visit your house personally and have a talk with him. The boy hasn't been eating well, has he? Prepare a light meal for him. Oh, and take this."
Jinghang pulled a thousand-ryo bill from his pocket and handed it to Chiyo.
"What's this for? I can afford the food..." Chiyo was even more puzzled.
"No, no. This is for the door."
"The door? What door?"
With a powerful kick from Jinghang, the Chiyo family's workshop door—passed down through three generations—collapsed with a thunderous noise.
"Wow, is this kid experimenting with poison gas?" Jinghang coughed as a cloud of dust and a foul stench wafted out.
The workshop was a chaotic mess. Shavings and sawdust littered the floor, blueprints and books were scattered everywhere, and tools like chisels, saws, compasses, and measuring tapes were strewn about haphazardly. In one corner, a makeshift toilet was filled to the brim, threatening to overflow with just one more use.
At the center of the room stood a towering two-meter-tall puppet. It resembled a female figure with three heads and six arms. Each head bore three eyes, displaying expressions of joy, anger, and sorrow. The six arms held various weapons: swords, tridents, and bows. Instead of legs, the puppet had a segmented steel tail ending in a sharp needle. The entire creation exuded a menacing aura while maintaining an elegant, feminine beauty.
Jinghang nodded in approval, while Chiyo, carrying a tray of food, stood frozen in shock.
"Godfather, Grandma, you're here."
Sasori, who had been napping amidst a pile of books, was startled awake by the sound of the door being kicked in. Rubbing his eyes, he looked up at the visitors.
"My dear..." Chiyo started to step forward, but Jinghang stopped her.
"Is this piece finished?" Jinghang asked, pointing at the puppet.
At the mention of his work, Sasori's fatigue vanished, replaced by a spark of excitement.
"Almost. Just needs some paint. What do you think, Godfather? Any feedback?"
Sasori's eager expression made Jinghang chuckle. Truth be told, the puppet was impressive.
Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Jinghang circled the puppet and said, "Not considering its functionality, I'd say this puppet has significant artistic value."
"How significant?" Sasori's eyes lit up.
"About three or four stories high," Jinghang joked with a grin.
"Haha! You've got an eye for talent, Godfather. This puppet represents countless hours of effort and several unique designs. Look at this head—"
Sasori began to explain, but before he could finish, his vision darkened, and he collapsed to the ground. Jinghang rushed to catch him. It was a classic case of low blood sugar.
"Don't rush, kid. Eat first. Later, we'll test it out at the training grounds. Don't tell me about its features yet—I want to see them in action during a real sparring session."
"Grumble." Sasori's stomach growled audibly.
"Come, my dear grandson. Eat while it's hot," Chiyo said, quickly placing a steaming bowl of noodles in front of him.
Without a word, Sasori grabbed the bowl and began devouring the noodles as if he hadn't eaten in days. Chiyo lovingly stroked his head, her heart brimming with maternal affection.
In no time, the bowl was empty. Sasori let out a satisfied burp.
"What's the name of this puppet?" Jinghang asked.
"Shura Maiden! Godfather, next time I face Orochimaru, I'll definitely beat him!" Sasori declared, clenching his small fists.
"That remains to be seen," Jinghang replied.
"Let's head to the training grounds now! Grandma, prepare kerosene, hydrochloric acid, and venom from the Mountain Scorpion!" Sasori said excitedly.
Jinghang flicked Sasori's forehead.
"Kerosene and acid, fine. But venom? Do you want to kill your godfather? And another thing..." Jinghang pinched his nose.
"Go take a bath and change your clothes first. Your smell alone is enough to knock me out."
Sasori sniffed himself and recoiled at the stench. The sour odor nearly made him vomit up the noodles he had just eaten.