Flashback 1

Rising tensions between Iwagakure and Konohagakure led their intelligence division to predict another major conflict, a third ‘Great Shinobi War’. In preparation, the Third Kazekage requested that he evaluate academy students who expressed interest in joining the Puppet Force. The unspoken command was that he choose one to take on as an apprentice.

“Hmp!? And this seal here? What does it do?”

Sasori had absolutely no intention of wasting his time teaching a child, but it was easier to agree, pretend to evaluate the batch, and say that none of them showed potential. Unfortunately, that meant he was now forced to walk alongside his grandmother’s vice-captain and look at work that was too shoddy to hang on the wall, much less take into battle.

“A-ah! That’s the seal that contains the smaller puppets! The Gagoromo is designed to carry the little Gagos- and they contain poison-needle attachments, so it’s damaging psychologically!”

Vice-Captain Gentai was perhaps the only man Sasori could confidently claim to hate. He felt very little for most people, a chronic and sustained apathy was the best most humans got from him. Most would go on to do very uninteresting things with their very uninteresting lives making little to no impact in the world before dying unceremoniously, what was the point in remembering them?

“I see! I see! Very clever, I’m sure there’s great application in such a design! Be careful of these joints- they stick if you don’t oil them regularly!”

Vice-Captain Gentai was a rare exception, not someone Sasori chose to remember, but rather someone who had forced his way into Sasori’s memory and refused to leave. Passionate, rigorous, steadfast, and perhaps the most loathsomely uninspired puppeteer who has ever been born. That he was allowed to call himself a puppeteer at all was an insult to the art, and the way he excused himself was infuriating.

“O-oh! Yes Vice-Captain! I’ll be sure to do that!”

‘The fundamentals’ was not an adequate justification for his utterly empty work. Puppets that wear the skin of Art.

“Hahah! I’m sure you have a fine career as a puppeteer ahead of you! What do you think, Sasori?” Gentai turned from his empty praises of the glasses-wearing girl and towards him, sharp and twisting hair bouncing and a grin on his clean-shaven face.

Sasori’s expression had not changed from when he arrived, face blank and eyes half-lidded. There was a lot he could say about the puppet that was being presented. The quality was substantially worse than what his had been at her age, the parts ranging from off-the-shelf to barely-worked, the design clunky and inefficient, the very concept not accounting for the realities of personal ability, and so on.

That was a lot of words to waste on someone like this, so he instead simply gave a summary.

“Inept.”

With that he walked to the next stand, and left the girl and Gentai behind him. There was another academy student here, with another puppet that wasn’t worth long term consideration. A vaguely reptilian model based on island great lizards. The limbs were too bulky, but contained nothing of substance, the joints were yet more off-the-shelf components that weren’t rigged for limbs of that scale, the weapons were obviously displayed instead of hidden internally, and it was decorated in plastic and paper.

There was a little poster next to the design that explained the internal features, a flamethrower in the mouth, an internal swim bladder filled with oil to regulate buoyancy, and little else. They weren’t even connected components- even as simple as that would be.

Oversight after oversight, exactly what he had been expecting in the works of such beginners. The finger-painting of puppetry, detailing everything wrong with the craft took both patience and a fine eye.

In the time it took for him to fully evaluate the next puppet, Gentai had caught up and was in the middle of interviewing the child about their design. Sasori didn’t bother committing any of the words to memory, yet more empty platitudes about the work and encouragement about the future of their puppetry.

It was entirely possible that any of the children present would become worthy of consideration at some point in their lives, but Sasori wasn’t about to invest any anticipation into their potential. Either they would become worthy of memory, or they would not.

Eventually, he was called upon to give his thoughts again. Sasori gave another honest abbreviation.

“Clumsy.”

With that he moved onto the next booth, leaving the straight-haired boy and his work behind him. Even as low quality as these works were, they were not as insulting as Gentai’s utterly uninspired creations, he’d be surprised to find anything that-

Sasori’s thoughts stopped as he looked upon the next puppet on display. He stared at it for a few long moments, somewhat bewildered and disoriented as his mind tried to work out what exactly he was looking at.

A central box frame, an internal seal-based firing mechanism, four two-segment legs made from low quality thin metal bars and barely-functional joints. There was no effort taken to disguise any of the joints or segments. Each leg used rusty spring-loaded clips as grips. The central frame had a single carved wooden orb under the firing-box to serve as an eyeball, with the distinct smell of ricin on the interior.

He glanced at the diagram that explained its features. He raised his hand to connect strings, lifting the puppet up to look at its underbelly. Sure enough, a single explosive tag on the underside. It was easily the most expensive component of the design- everything else possessed the distinct charm of something found in a heap of worthless scrap.

He set the thing down again and slowly turned to the apparent creator. A fluffy-haired boy wearing loose white and tan clothes, an expression almost as bored as the one he had just moments ago.

“…What is this?” Sasori wasn’t sure how well his baffled loathing was being conveyed- the boy’s utter lack of a reaction made it difficult to tell.

The boy glanced at the poster where a name was displayed prominently, raising an eyebrow and turning back to him. “A test-type ‘Bolter’ style combat puppet, sir.”

“This is the worst puppet here- possibly the worst puppet in all of Sunagakure.” Sasori declared with an even tone, ignoring the sharp gasps and mutterings around him. “This is only one step away from being nothing. The least amount of effort or care invested into a puppet that I have ever seen or heard of. Lowest common denominator garbage reclaimed from heaps of trash and put together with the minimal amount of effort required.”

“S-sasori!” Gentai attempted to interrupt, having finally walked over. Sasori continued on without any consideration of the man- attention squarely upon the boy.

“This is not a common amateur’s work- I can go to any other booth in fifteen meters and find an example of such. The creation of something this utterly uninspired can only be the work of an exceptional talent. Even the most inept and lazy beginner would be able to see the flaws present in this, this cludge put together without any consideration for long term use or lasting merit.”

He barely stopped to take a breath. “This is trash, nothing would be lost if it was destroyed.”

The boy nodded, unphased in the face of his rant. “That’s good to hear, thank you. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” Vice-Captain Gentai stopped before defending the boy, closing his mouth and slowly turning to look at the child behind the little table, interest raised.

Sasori stopped short, before leaning forwards fractionally and leveling his focused stare at the boy. A silent demand for him to explain.

The boy raised his hands and allowed strings to connect to the frame- the puppet was simple enough to only require a single hand. “The Bolter is exactly what you have said- a minimally-viable, lowest-effort, exceptionally low-cost design.”

“Standard puppet design-philosophy naturally trends towards highly-durable, high-investment puppet designs that take a substantial amount of time to build, repair, master, and equal amounts of attention to operate and coordinate in battlefield scenarios. These are exceptional for many obvious reasons- being that any combat-art sufficiently invested in becomes dangerous and puppets are no exception.”

“But the biggest issue is that principle of time required to achieve mastery. Puppets are inherently more disposable than the puppeteers are, and will regularly be sacrificed in order to preserve the puppeteer’s life. This is intelligent, as a puppeteer can always rebuild a puppet after the fact. It’s an object, after all, it’s replaceable in a way that trained professionals simply aren’t.”

“However, a high-investment puppet requires, correspondingly, high amounts of investment to rebuild. Every puppet presented here will inevitably be destroyed if they go into battle often enough, and will need to be rebuilt afterwards. Gen, for example, spent a good six months building his samurai-style puppet. He will likely get better at rebuilding as time goes on, but it will probably always be a lengthy endeavour and he will need to repeat it many times throughout a long career.”

Stolen story; please report.
The boy made the scrap-puppet do a little jiggle. “The Bolter took ten hours in total, most of which was simply gathering the scrap required to assemble it. It cost me absolutely nothing to produce, but if I had spent any money buying off-the-shelf components to put it together, it probably wouldn’t have taken me more than three hours. I predict that If I start stockpiling components required, I could get it down to one per hour. I don’t think I’ll ever need to make more than one a day though.”

The boy looked up from the ‘Bolter’ and towards him again. “And if it breaks? There’s no need to bother carefully reassembling the various bits. I can simply pull out another Bolter. I have three Bolters already and only spent a weekend making them.”

“It shoots poison darts for me, letting me attack with high-priority attacks from several angles. It explodes if I need it to, letting it serve as a trap for anyone who tries to destroy one in melee. It cost me close to nothing to produce, allowing me to rapidly build and replenish reserves. The disposability allows me to make sacrifice plays without hesitation. The mechanical simplicity allows me to operate one with a single hand, which will become multiple with a single hand as I improve, freeing up the other hand for other tasks. The design is predicated around such simple and flexible principles that I can produce a Bolter even in incredibly poor conditions.”

“A bolter shoots things and then explodes, that’s all I will ever need it to do, so there’s no point in investing anything more than the bare minimum into each model. The design will never become obsolete in its niche and it will probably last me for my entire career- saving me a massive amount of investment to pour into other, longer term designs when I finally gain the skills and funds to actually realize them.”

“In short, it’s the perfect puppet and will almost certainly outlive me. Not any individual, disposable unit, but the model itself.”

The boy went silent, staring blankly up at him. Sasori stared back for several long moments, unsure of his expression.