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At first Sakura wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking at when she opened the drawer to one of Granny Chiyo’s stainless steel basement freezers. The air in the desert was oppressive, arid and disgusting, so naturally the child sought some form of relief in the form of one of the frozen treats she knew Chiyo kept in stock just for her. She hadn’t been able to find any in the kitchen freezer and instead moved her search to where she knew Chiyo had more freezers located in the woodshop Sasori used for crafting puppets.
The six-year-old blinked once, tilting her head inquisitively as she took in the frost-covered face, the bluish pallor of the sleeping man’s body, his mass of long, jagged dark hair: coarse strands clumped together in frozen chunks. She pondered briefly who the visitor was, noting his angular features and expensive looking garments. She hated the sweltering heat during the days, yet she still couldn’t imagine wanting to take a nap in a freezer. That was just asking for a bad time when the temperatures drastically plummeted at night.
She wanted a popsicle for a snack, but this wasn't exactly what she had in mind.
Sakura sighed, replacing the arm she’d lifted to see if he’d been concealing any boxes of frozen confections. Leaving the drawer open she wandered back to the staircase.
“Chiyo-baasama!” she called, shrill voice bouncing off the walls of the narrow staircase.
“Honestly, what is taking you so long, dear? We’re ready to begin the next lesson!” Chiyo yelled back from somewhere upstairs.
“Didn’t you buy me any ice cream?”
“Such a demanding child! It’s in the kitchen, as usual. Why are you even downstairs?”
“Why is there a man sleeping in your freezer?”
Sakura listened during the lengthy pause that followed. Then there was the screech from a wooden chair against linoleum finish and the sound of heavy footsteps descending the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder at the unknown man as she waited. There was a fine sheen of condensation building on his face and knuckles. ‘Maybe he overslept?’ she gasped as another possibility came to mind. ‘Or he snuck in because he heard the Akasuna family has this convenient built-in row of freezers, perfect size to escape the heat!’ Her pudgy cheeks puffed out in second-hand indignation.
Chiyo hobbled into the room and first took in the adorable look of fury on Sakura’s face then the open freezer. “Well, I had planned this demonstration for a later date, but I suppose there’s no time like the present,” she mused.
“Demonstration?” Huge sea green eyes blinked, intrigued. “So, this stranger didn’t break a very important rule by invading your home so he could take an afternoon nap?”
Chiyo laughed. “Heavens, no! He’s already dead, child.” She was often impressed by Sakura and Sasori’s extensive vocabulary given their age. ‘Although back in my day this was a fitting punishment for breaking and entering, so she’s not wrong,’ she amended.
Sakura placed a finger against her mouth, mulling it over, too distracted to notice Sasori’s near soundless steps padding down the stairs. Phthalo green robes swished around both their ankles as the other six-year-old drifted by her. Sakura often thought he’d make for a neat concept in an R.L. Stine novel.
Sasori gave the pink-haired girl a passing glance before pulling open the drawer next over.
“Oh,” Chiyo sighed, placing an aged hand to her chest. “Ebizō, my dearly departed little brother. He never could hold his liquor, not once considering that may very well wind up being his downfall.”
Sasori ignored the old woman's prattling and pulled out a brightly colored box filled with soda and fruit-flavored ice pops. He held it out to Sakura. “You were close,” he commented, eyes squinting at her excited squealing.
“Now how did that happen? Sasori,” Chiyo tutted and turned to the boy. “Did you forget to bring those upstairs?” Contrary to the overarching assumption of a Suna resident, she did enjoy cooling off with the occasional tropical fruit bar. Especially an abundance of push up pops while she tinkered with her own puppets. ‘Ah, the good ol’ days,’ she thought with a dreamy sigh.
“I don’t forget anything,” Sasori sniped back. The young redhead shrugged. “I wanted to test something; she passed,” was all he said.
Perhaps it was Chiyo’s overall demeanor and Sasori’s typical bland attitude that influenced Sakura’s own nonchalance towards the uncovering of what was obviously a well-kept family secret. Actually, she felt giddy with excitement over being included in on such an important secret; Ino once told her the best ones were shared between close friends. It was a rare occurrence in Sakura’s young life. “Who was he?”
Chiyo looked on with tempered levity as the girl pinched a stiff finger, lifting it for a closer examination. Such is the brilliance of a still developing brain she felt, so malleable at this age. “Oh, he was the Kazekage; third in line, a bit before both your times I’m afraid.” He’d been most useful for her own research; some of which she’d never followed up on but decided to keep him in her basement anyway should any new idea strike. Turned out he made a perfectly suitable subject decades later for her grandson. She commended her own foresight. “He’s also Sasori’s favorite cadaver to practice on.”
“What happened to him?” Sakura asked.
“Nothing anyone can prove,” Sasori answered cryptically.
Chiyo gave him a sharp nudge. “He died of natural causes, boy. Such a heavy loss too, but the old thing lived a nice, long life.” How her precocious little grandson could blink those wide, cute eyes of his while saying the most morbid things she didn’t know. “Anyways, turns out he donated his own body for the use of medical students.” The Sandaime may have been very tired and woozy near the end, but Chiyo liked to believe he knew what he was signing.
Sakura screwed up her face. “Why would anyone want to keep them?” She was genuinely perplexed. “Don’t they stink?” Her family’s cat had started to smell after awhile. It was how Sakura learned the benefits of cremation.
“Not this one, he was rapidly cooled at the time of death and kept oxygenated using oxygen masks. Learning anatomy through cadaveric dissection is invaluable,” Chiyo explained. She leaned over the drawer housing her brother and patted his icy face with a gloved hand. “For one, it allows future scientists to investigate the human body on a deeper level without risk, resulting in proper identification of specific body parts and organs.”
Twin heads of red and pink brushed together as they peered over the edge of the drawer, studying the late Kazekage.
“For some reason this one’s always been resilient compared to the others,” Sasori murmured loud enough for Sakura to hear. “No matter how many times grandma thaws him out and refreezes him the body has still barely breached the autolysis stage of decomp.”
“Meaning he can’t decay?” she whispered back. “He really does look like he’s just sleeping.” Chiyo had begun outlining the five main stages of decomposition over breakfast that morning.
“Nothing can truly escape decay,” he replied. “It’s biologically impossible, no matter what the optimists say.”
Sakura tugged eagerly at his sleeve. “But think about it, Sasori-san! Look at him! It’s already possible to delay the process. A technique like that could further be useful in medicine. You could freeze harmful antibodies in the event a cure can be made.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Sakura,” he said. “How’s a person supposed to function with random parts of their body frozen?”
Sakura’s cheeks puffed out in irritation. Why couldn’t he ever parse through her gibberish on his own? “I’m still working out the kinks!”
Sasori folded his arms atop the edge with a sigh. Nonetheless he considered her idea in ways that were not the product of an excessive amount of sugar intake in one’s diet.
Despite reoccurring comments from her smart-mouth grandson, Chiyo’s hearing was still perfectly intact. “Ho ho! Such clever children. In fact, he arranged to have his body cryogenically frozen,” she explained. “Hogwash about resurrection and immortality are found in countless religions and myths around the world, and in recent years, many of these stories have hinged on the idea of cryonic preservation. That is, the idea that one could freeze a body and then reanimate it in the future. Perhaps the old coot thought one day modern science would advance enough to make that dream a reality.” She rested her hip against the side of the freezer opposite the kids. “I’d call it sci-fi mumbo jumbo at this point, but it is a tad strange he’s lasted this long.” In her opinion he’d been the only useful Kazekage during her era and he continued to prove his usefulness in death. Certainly there were circumstances in which posthumous degradation was unacceptable, but Chiyo felt the means were justified if it was for the betterment of both science and medicine. Then if Sasori found further use for him down the line... well, then that was simply her grandson's ingenuity at its finest.
Sakura hummed. “So, if we drop him right now, he won’t shatter into millions of pieces?” she asked innocently.
Sasori snorted. “No,” He peered at her through the fringe of his crimson hair. “I’ve only cut into him once before, wanna try?”
She wrinkled her nose. As interesting as all this was, the suggestion seemed needlessly messy.
“I’ve also used him as reference for creating more authentic-looking puppets,” Sasori reminded her absently. “Unless you want to potentially fall behind in our lessons?”
Sakura narrowed her eyes, knowing a good old-fashioned challenge when she heard one.
Besides, it wasn’t really a bad thing since Chiyo acquired him the right way; her mom reminded her often how important it was to first ask for permission. ‘Hands-on experience with a friend would also help build teamwork since we’d be learning together.’
Chiyo shook her head, amused, placing a hand each on their heads. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Now, one of you close the other freezer. We’ll let this one defrost while I make us some dinner.”
Afterwards Chiyo did put together a live demonstration. She was a firm believer that field experience was key. It allowed the student to observe, practice, and demonstrate course material under the supervision of an educational program faculty or under the mentorship of a certified teacher. Chiyo didn’t hold much interest in Suna’s medical program, but Sakura was the only candidate she saw potential in outside her own flesh and blood. Sasori was such a gifted boy, she never thought she’d spot a similar drive in anyone else.
Chiyo also let Sakura hold the scalpel. Briefly. The girl struggled a bit with the foreign tool understandably, so Sasori opted to brace her forearm for support, perhaps in more ways than one.
Sasori was wearing the usual curious, fascinated expression he typically did while in the vicinity of something that interested him. Sakura’s was similar in a sense but more intense; she more resembled a miniature predator stalking her first prey since leaving the nest. Her eyes were focused, a part of her tongue poking against her lip in concentration.
Sakura attempted one more unsteady incision. This time, however, he wasn’t watching her movements any longer; large golden eyes landed first where his hand was latched onto her arm. Then his gaze trailed up the limb until it stayed unwavering on her face. He blinked his absurdly long eyelashes as he regarded her with similar interest, and his eyes seemed to glow.
Chiyo found she didn’t have the heart to ruin the moment, even though she really should have put a stop to the demonstration sooner. It was so rare to see her grandson so open in his admiration for another person. Well, at least one that wasn’t already dead, like the many artists whose work he admired. Chiyo wondered belatedly if she should have warned the girl about her grandson’s growing attachment; she knew the ambitious boy never did things by halves.
Once the impromptu introduction to anatomy class was over and the workstation cleaned and sanitized, the three retired upstairs to enjoy some piping hot tea as the chill of the night crept into the corners of the house. Much of that was spent listening to Sakura chatter nonstop about her experience and her newfound aspiration.
Sakura pumped a tiny fist triumphantly into the air.
“I’m gonna be the best surgeon in the world! Even better than the great Tsunade Senju!” she declared loudly with a bright smile.
“Oho!” Chiyo grinned and patted her once atop the large, neatly looped red ribbon. “That’s my girl.”
Sasori felt his mouth twitch into a rare, soft smile, certain this was the first time he agreed with his grandmother on something.