melody of the widow's heart {sasori x reader}

acceptance

 A gentle morning had come. In the midst of one of the greatest wars in our lifetime, the still mornings brought the tenderness that managed to keep us going. To some, it was the only reason to keep fighting. The desperation to see the next sunrise gave a purpose to fight a seemingly endless war.

It had been around 6 years since we had discovered the power of Bentaizen within me. Friends and comrades had come and gone. One stood out in particular, a fellow named Komushi. I was not around to see his friendship with Sasori grow much, but I do recall the day that Sasori had finally made his long researched human-puppet jutsu a reality. I remember the internal panic that had set in when he had found out about the accident. As border patrol, Sasori had no choice but to have at least some human interaction. As a person who mostly kept to himself, growing close with him over the years had made me see that he longed for touch more than the average person. Komushi, like I, had become another resource for the warmth he was denied before we met. Seeing him grow distant to others and accepting the death of his parents had done a great deal of damage to him, mentally. Losing Komushi was the breaking point. I did not resent him for turning Kumoshi into a puppet because, like no one else, I understood Sasori's mind to every extent. Ridding himself of typical emotions such as grief allowed him to test out his transfer technique. After all, Kumoshi's mother had practically begged him to save him even after telling her that he couldn't. Who was he to deny her of her son? He did as she asked and remade Kumoshi. He would've wanted it, anyways. Kumoshi was a curious fellow, always butting in on his research and herbs. Being a ground-breaking experiment would have meant everything to him. There was no room for grief in lives like ours. Both busy and dedicated to our own lives and passions, sadness would only get in the way. I had become the same way.

I was 13 years old, Sasori one year my senior. We had been dispatched to the most enemy-heavy territory on the front lines. We were Suna's last hope. Training with Sasori had done us both well. We had developed hundreds of combinations together using my power of music and his puppets. What can you expect from two geniuses? Direct contact with enemies was certainly not my strength, so Sasori would attack while I entranced them with sound. By the time of our dispatch, I had already developed all of Benzaiten's jutsu. Summoning the pure power Benzaiten herself would demand a great deal of chakra, so I refrained from doing so as much. Hearing her intricate sound would stop enemies in their tracks, immediately erasing them from the world as if their existence never occurred. My method of battle was clean and precise, Sasori's not so much.

The blood spilled from our combinations of attacks would earn him fame. "Sasori of the Red Sand" they would call him. I gained fame from my hundreds of compositions after the war. My works were used by Suna's musicians all around. I even got to form my own music faction within the academy as I trained groups of musically talented nin. Sasori continued his career as a medical ninja. We remained close by spending time with each other at the end of every day. Coming home, we would talk about our days respectively as I watched him tinker in his workshop. Even after the trauma of war and stress, I still saw the warmth in his eyes every time he looked at me. I was the only one to ever see him like that.

Over time I accepted my growing feelings for him, even as I struggled to push them away. I never acted on them. I was never afraid of death or even what the average person would fear. My biggest fear was losing Sasori. The risk of him not returning my feelings proved to be too great.

Perhaps that's what hurt the most. Perhaps that is my biggest regret.