Hello, it's been awhile for old readers. For new, welcome. I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so I thought I'd play with it, see where it goes.

This story is basically Canon!AU. Everything in canon happens, just on a different timeline so Sasori and Deidara are both the same age. Deidara basically becomes Sasori's knight in shining armor for one moment, and it greatly impacts how Sasori sees the world from childhood to adulthood.

I also need a beta. Please let me know if you're interested. I will also update Seven Little Killers when I can for those of you waiting on an update for that.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Misashi Kishimoto, I just play with characters.

Prologue

Sasori stopped speaking as soon as he turned six.

If Chiyo was honest with herself, it was a relief.

Three months, five days, and eighteen hours ago, Chiyo learned that her only son was dead along with her daughter-in-law. Sasori now stood among the countless ranks of war orphans. The only difference between him and them was that Sasori was unaware of his status. Chiyo hadn't had the heart or strength to tell him.

The war was still raging on after all, and she was head of the puppet brigade of Sunagakure. It was an enormous responsibility to burden, and as much as she wanted to be there for Sasori, he had to be second. This was yet another thing she failed to tell him due to lack of heart. For weeks Chiyo subtly dodged every attempt her grandson made to be close to her. She loved him, she bought him candy when he asked, and she often went on walks with him when the sun was setting and the desert heat was no longer lethal.

All of that was merely a dance between her and her increasingly lonely grandson. Sasori would take a few steps towards her and she would recoil so fast it was like his very existence burned her. One in the many botched efforts on Sasori's part to reach out to her stood out in Chiyo's old mind as the beginning of Sasori's descent into becoming mute.

Chiyo had been poring over battle reports from the other council members detailing how that damned slug girl Tsunade countered every single one of her poisons. It was frustrating and terrifying on a tactical level, for Konoha's casualties were decreasing, while Suna's continued to increase. Yet, no matter how many mixtures she came up with, Tsunade always had an antidote. Every time.

"Grandma Chiyo?" Sasori's voice sounded from behind her, and her head jerked up. The circular window that allowed the desert sun to shine through now showed the great hidden village of the sand in all of its glory. Last she looked up, it had still been dark, and now she could see the civilians of Suna making their rounds on the grounds below. The hot winds blew sand against the glass of the window and the sound made her already shot nerves fray further.

"Yes, Sasori?" She turned around, forcing her lips into a smile. She loved him, she truly did. Concern was evident on his round face. He was too young to understand what was happening in the world, but he was still perceptive enough to know when something wasn't right.

"Can we go to the post today?" He rubbed one of his eyes, clearly having just woken up. At least it was still morning.

"Not today. I have too much work to do," she said gently. "We'll go tomorrow." Sasori's eyes widened and he took a step into the room, something he rarely did unless summoned.

"But what if my parents wrote?" he asked. Chiyo's hand tightened on the reports she held. Sasori's eyes shifted to the subtle movement and she cursed in her mind when his brows slanted upwards, changing his expression from concern to anxiety. He was a smart boy. Too smart. Those gentle brown eyes he inherited from his mother met hers, and it felt like looking at a judge and jury. She was a damned liar. "We haven't heard from them in forever. What if we miss something?"

"Then it'll be there tomorrow, but I have to finish reading these reports and then schedule an appointment with the Kazekage." At least that was the truth. Not all of it, but it was better than nothing. She rubbed her tired eyes. "Just go outside and wait for Komushi." Komushi, bless his heart, was the only child persistent enough to be Sasori's friend, and a great distraction. Although from what she'd seen Komushi did most of the talking.

"But I really want to go today. You promised we could go yesterday."

"Then go yourself," Chiyo said.

"I tried, but they said I needed you there because all the mail is marked to your address, which is only under your name," he said. "In their records I still live with my mom and dad." His tone wasn't know-it-all, but it was pushy. Although there wasn't a thing in the world she wouldn't do for him, Chiyo found herself becoming annoyed. "Besides, I want you to come with me. We haven't played or gone for a walk in days."

"Sasori," she groaned tiredly.

"Come out today so we can spend some time together. Please? Aren't you worried too? I really want to go today just to make sure."

"I already told you not today, and that's final."

"But maybe if you wrote me a note—"

Chiyo slammed her hand against her desk. She was bone tired, sore from hunching her old back all night, and at the moment her mind was still on Tsunade. Sasori's request to go to the post was obsolete compared to the war effort that rested entirely on her shoulders. "Remember your place, Sasori." Her voice was low and there was no trace of patience left. "I said no."

She expected him to back out of the room to go sulk, and perhaps shed some tears for extra guilt until he got over it. He was only five years old, and had just started his time at the Academy. It wouldn't have been a surprise. Children like him were resilient and got over things easily. However, that was not what happened.

What she saw was a complete and total shut down. Any trace of vulnerability in his expression vanished. His brows smoothed into a neutral arch above his now hooded eyes. It would be the first time Chiyo would no longer be able to read her grandson. With all the silent calmness of a jounin, Sasori turned and left the room.

Even after this point, Chiyo could not bring herself to be truthful in the months that followed.

It was a cruel thing to do to a child. Yet, the ugly, unwanted voice that had developed after years of enduring war refuted this and insisted that Sasori was the one being cruel to her. It did not matter if it was unintentional. He was like his father: too mild-mannered and soft spoken for her liking. Chiyo herself had always been loud, eccentric, and she made her presence known every time she entered a room. As a woman and head of the puppet brigade, she had to be to get respect.

Sasori's father had been the opposite. He had been too sensitive for a world so cruel, and she suspected that was what got him killed. Raising Sasori was like enduring it all over again. Every time Sasori spoke, ate, slept, or watched other families with a longing no little boy should have, it was a reminder that her only son was dead, and she had the audacity to lie to his child about it.

"Did you hear from my parents today?" Sasori's soft voice brought her attention to him. They were in his room and those once sweet brown eyes were now watching her in a way that made her feel unsettled. Although he had stopped speaking, this question came up at night like some cruel ritual. She ushered him to bed, and avoided eye contact. Sasori's eyes used to be so expressive, but now it was like looking into the glass eyes of one of her puppets.

"Not today, but I told you this extended mission would last awhile." The lie came out so easily it was almost like telling the truth. She would tell him the actual story when she was ready. Now she couldn't. Her own heart ached with grief, and she hated herself for the selfishness she never thought herself capable of. Outwardly she offered him a smile he didn't return. "They'll be back before you know it, and your dad will probably have a present for you." She reached out and patted the top of her grandson's head. The strands of vivid red hair were a stark contrast to her pale, withered fingers. She swallowed a lump rising in her throat at all the times she had criticized her son for what she had viewed as spoiling. "He always does. Then you can show him the progress you've made as a puppeteer. He'll be so proud."

Sasori didn't say anything and laid down. His blank brown eyes fixated on the picture he always kept on his nightstand or in his tiny hands. It was a family photograph taken about a year prior. Her son and his wife smiled at the camera. Sasori stood between them as their pride and joy. Chiyo felt something in her chest twist so violently, she feared that she would have a heart attack right there, but realized with a shaky sigh that it was just her own self-loathing and grief.

"Try and get some sleep." She stood from where she sat on the edge of the bed and headed towards the door. Distance always made her feel marginally better. "You have school tomorrow, and Komushi will be here early. Goodnight." Her subtle attempts to keep Sasori at a distance had finally done the trick because he wasn't even looking at her. The photograph was all he clung to now with a resigned and muted desperation. Not even the puppets she had introduced him to stopped it. Chiyo realized in that moment that he was probably the loneliest little boy in the world.

Everything in her screamed at her to close the distance between them. She wanted to bring him into an embrace, tell him the truth, and admit she had been selfish in keeping him waiting for a family that was never coming home. The agony she was putting him through was sickening, and this sweet child she claimed to love deserved better.

Instead Chiyo left Sasori and returned to her own room. After all, she was still an active kunoichi despite her age. Her village and Kazekage needed her, and the sooner Sasori mastered the art of puppetry, the better. The boy was already showing promising signs of being a genius. Chiyo looked out the window to where the full moon hung low over the Kazekage's tower.

Sasori was an orphan, but he was too young to understand why.

Chiyo was always interesting for me. I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are appreciated, and again, a beta would be most helpful.