Chapter 115: Lacking Strength
With Hiruko shattered, Sasori of the Red Sand finally revealed his true form. Red hair, amber eyes, a face as youthful as a teenager's—his appearance was strikingly beautiful, more reminiscent of a neighborly schoolboy than a terrifying S-rank rogue ninja. He looked even younger than Deidara. But after the brutal battle they'd just endured, the contrast between appearance and power was jarring.
"Is this guy really from your Sand Village?" Hiashi narrowed his eyes at Sasori's youthful face. "Since when does Suna have such a young powerhouse?"
"No," Gaara answered calmly, "among ninja my age in the village, none are stronger than me. I've never seen this one before."
Hiashi's suspicion grew.
"He may be an old defector," Temari added. "He matches the description in our records... if that's really him…"
"Are you talking about the genius puppet master—Chiyo's grandson?" Gaara's tone sharpened. "We saw pictures of him as a child once. If he's still alive, he'd be in his thirties by now. How could he look like this?"
"He's the one," Temari muttered, as if she didn't quite believe it herself.
Gaara's eyes darkened. "Human puppets…"
The implication was horrifying: not only could they be killed by this monster, but their corpses could be desecrated, turned into weapons.
"Whatever his identity," Hiashi said with calm steel in his voice, "no matter if he was a former Kazekage, we won't run from a fight."
Mizuki winced from where he lay, just within earshot. Don't tempt fate. We might really have to fight one soon.
Only Mizuki, Gaara, and Temari suspected the truth of Sasori's identity. To the others, Hiashi's bold words were just patriotic bravado. But he had the strength to back it up—white eyes and Gentle Fist made him a formidable combatant. If it weren't for the sheer mismatch in compatibility, he might have stood a better chance.
"Mizuki, can you still fight?" Hiashi called over to him.
Hyuga Ko rushed over and quickly fed Mizuki a healing pill and patched his shoulder with field bandages.
"I'll live," Mizuki croaked, spitting out blood. "But if we can't finish that puppet master… I won't last."
He forced himself upright. Now was not the time to pass out. Not yet.
"Good," Hiashi nodded. "You've earned a rest, but this fight isn't over."
With Mizuki barely functional, Hiashi surged forward. Gentle Fist erupted in a flurry of strikes, forcing Sasori back. Kurenai, relieved, stepped away from the close-quarters confrontation. She was an illusionist, not a brawler. And in a physical duel, she was rapidly being overwhelmed.
Mizuki had to admit—even with the odds stacked against him—Hiashi still carried the fight.
That's the power of the Hyuga clan.
As Sasori danced back under Hiashi's assault, Ko and the others regrouped, watching from a safe distance. Kurenai had done her best, but illusions were ineffective against someone with no true brain to manipulate.
Poor Kurenai, Mizuki thought. Completely countered.
Hiashi's taijutsu was elegant and deadly, but even his white eyes couldn't reveal everything about Sasori's strange body. He could tell something wasn't right—chakra flowed unnaturally, concentrated in a small, sealed node in Sasori's chest.
That must be his core.
Unfortunately, the very fact that it was a weakness meant it was also protected beyond belief.
Sasori knew his enemies were growing desperate, so he made a decision.
"No more wasting time."
Using a momentary opening, he dodged a strike from Gaara's sand and ignored the kunai thrown by Kurenai. He reached for his scrolls.
"Red Secret Technique—Performance of a Hundred Puppets!"
Chakra threads burst from Sasori's chest, unspooling more than a hundred puppets into the air. Even by moonlight, their mass darkened the sky. The battlefield fell into stunned silence.
This is the one-man army that took down a nation…
Gaara's expression grew grim. "It's him. There's no doubt. He's Sasori, grandson of Elder Chiyo."
Hiashi's face darkened. "A prodigy like that… and he turned traitor?"
Temari looked ashamed. "He vanished years ago… around the same time as the Third Kazekage. They said he just disappeared."
Kurenai clenched her fists. "He must've defected long ago. But this… it's no longer just a diplomatic issue. He's targeting a Jinchuriki. Should we retreat?"
Hiashi weighed the options and gave the only answer he could.
"Withdraw."
As much as it burned his pride, Hiashi knew they couldn't win this fight. Even at their best, they weren't prepared to handle the true might of Sasori. They'd already pushed their luck.
Mizuki staggered upright. His body ached from chakra loss and poison, but he was still alive.
So we're retreating. All this effort… just to see Sasori flex his power.
He'd burned through his last dose of serum, exhausted his medical ninjutsu, and suffered wounds that would take weeks to heal properly.
All for nothing?
No. They'd defeated Deidara. That was something. Even if it had cost them everything.
"Everyone, regroup!" Hiashi ordered. "We return to Konoha. Move!"
They'd done all they could. Anything more would be suicide.
And as they retreated under the moonlight, Mizuki whispered to himself:
Maybe next time… we'll be ready.
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