. “Ouch! Owe owe owe owl!” The five-year-old orange haired boy exclaims exaggerating the pain holding his bloody hand and dancing around the room. The elderly man with the knife pays him little attention. “Over the sand.” Vhargus says in his gruff voice. After living in this small workshop for almost a year, Ningyō is always overcome with delight on the rare occasions when the old man speaks. Once he realizes he isn’t going say any thing else his smile shifts into more of a frown. The boy walks across the room and holds his hand over a trough of sand by the window. “Over the sand.” The boy repeats trying to imitate his deep voice. “Drip, Drip, Drip” He says in time with the crimson beads as they fall to the sand. It had taken three months to grow a piece big enough for a head, the torso would take even longer. The boy watches the craftsman silently work. The old mans hands whittled the oddly shaped root he pulled out of the sand yesterday. After working all night the piece started to take shape, a smiling face. This puppet looked much different than the others that were hung around the room, none of them ever smiled. The veteran puppet maker held up the head and made a disapproving grunt as if he had just noticed the expression he had been caving. “Why did you make it a girl?” Ningyō asks, getting a better look at the face. The old man just grunted again and went back to work. “Did the Kankuro from the stories rely make up this puppet?” The boy asks for the hundredth time. The man continues his work making no sign that he even hears him. “Mom said you met him when you were little, what was he like?” “He hated little annoying brats.” Vhargus answered irately. “He’d like me he has to cause...” ”That’s enough, go, play.” He said. Ningyō bandaged up his hand and held it out for the old man to inspect, once he nodded the boy rushed out the door. Ningyō headed to his favorite spot a semi-circle of stones near a well. Rolling one of the stones over revealed a cache of scrolls and seven small marionettes he had made from twigs. He would use them to reenact the legendary adventures of Sunagakure‘s heroes often changing the ending so that he himself had shown up and saved the day. Today’s story was the time his great-great-grandfather had been kidnapped and they had to secretly rescue him and repel invaders from all sides. Every day had been the same he would give blood to the sand then go play by himself. This continued for another year. Until one day… Vhargus handed him a bundle larger then the boy. “I will tell you what Kankuro said me, when I first met him and he showed me how to make this type.” “This one will be different, it is not just made of wood, but your own blood and Chakra mixed with the sand. To truly master the Yakiko you can not merely pull it with strings, you must lend your it soul and bring it to life.” “That is what he said to me.” He unwrapped the puppet’s head, it had pink hair but its eyes were shut. “ Now you must name her.” Ningyō was too stunned to think, this was the most he had ever said to him. The old man became irritated at the long pause, and sighed before finally saying. “I recognize this face you have made, it is from one of the painting in the Kazekage’s office, the famed master puppeteer Chio.” The boys face lit up. “Ya! Chio it’s perfect!” he said excitedly. The papermaker nodded as the puppets light blue eyes opened. “It’s settled then now go home.” The boy took two steps towards his play area then stopped. “Not play? Home..?” Vhargus pointed to a man standing by the door. He wore a sand headband. The man took him back to Sunagakure for the first time in two years.