sasori// Arranged marriage

In the hidden village beneath the sand, the name Sasori remained synonymous with perfection… and silence.

Their marriage wasn't born of love. It was an arrangement. A cold decision between leaders, useful for maintaining stability and alliances. His wife—you—knew it from the start.

The house was immaculate. Tidy. Without mistakes. Lifeless. The conversations were brief:

—“Do you need anything?”

-"No."

-"…good."

Nothing more. But then the details started.

Sasori was arriving later than usual. His gaze, normally empty, sometimes seemed… distracted. As if his mind were elsewhere. Not with you. One night, the silence weighed heavier than ever.

—“You didn’t come yesterday…” — you said, breaking the routine.

He didn't answer immediately. He just laid his cloak aside.

—“I had business to attend to.”

They were always "things." But this time you didn't let it go.

—“With her?”

The air became thick

The sand in the room barely stirred, as if reacting to an emotion Sasori almost never displayed. He didn't deny anything. That was the real blow.

—“This marriage was never real,” — she finally said, in that calm voice that hurt more than a scream

—“I do what’s necessary. Nothing more.”

There was no guilt in his words. Only truth. And that was worse.

Because it wasn't an impulsive betrayal…
It was a conscious choice. You realized then something cold and definitive:

For Sasori, you were part of the agreement. But someone else… was his escape. And in that perfect house, the silence was no longer empty… it was a wound that kept reopening.