[A/N: And side stories! Hope you like :-)]

Beginning:

Sasori cut through Fire Country on his way north, passing quite close to Konoha. Konoha's alliance with Suna was vague at best, so he didn't need to worry about them having heard yet about his defection.

He wasn't really bothered by having to leave his home; no one cared about him there, and he would return the favor. However, he had been forced to leave almost all of his puppets behind, which was a sore point. Still, it would be a simple enough matter to build up a new collection, especially if any Konoha nin happened to wander a little far on their patrols.

In hopes of this happening, he paused near a river a short distance away from the village and settled down to wait for a while. Not needing to sleep was still quite an odd feeling, but he could certainly get used to it. It would give him plenty more time to work on his art, after all.

Hearing movement a ways down the riverbank, Sasori quietly crept from tree to tree until he could see a bit better. By that time, however, the shinobi had already set his burden down in the reeds and headed back towards the village. Obviously he was expected back—Sasori couldn't afford to attack him only to be discovered almost right away.

He was about to set off north again when he heard the cries. Intrigued, he dropped from the tree and walked over to the riverbank to investigate.

While he didn't know all that much about babies, he did know that they needed other people to take care of them and if one was just left somewhere it certainly wouldn't last very long. Of course, Sasori didn't have much use for one—what could he possibly do with a baby puppet?—but he knelt to take a closer look anyway.

The baby had quieted down by now, and Sasori poked at it curiously. The baby's eyes opened, and Sasori jumped back in surprise at the sight of the brilliant red swirls.

Wondering how on earth a baby had ended up with the Mangekyou Sharingan, Sasori picked the baby up gingerly, trying not to get too much water and dirt from the blanket it was wrapped in on his clothes. Due to the process of converting himself into a puppet, he had enough resistance to the genjutsu's pull to examine the baby without fear. It quieted after a few more seconds of crying, apparently realizing that someone was holding it.

Every great artist needed a servant, Sasori mused. Of course, it would be quite a while before this little thing could be very useful, but he could wait.

It wasn't as if Sasori was going to be aging, after all.