"Vicious poison—"
Danzō's teeth ground together. His fingers stabbed pressure points—one, two, three—cutting off blood flow before the venom could spread further.
His face was ash.
The severed arm lay in the sand. Purple. Deep purple—the color of rot, of death. Flesh bubbling. Melting. Bone gleaming white through dissolving muscle.
Ten seconds. That's how long I had.
The chakra pill hadn't kicked in yet. His reserves were empty. One arm gone. Blood soaking into sand.
His legs gave out.
"Gotta hand it to you, old man." Sasori had emerged from Chii's cockpit. Casual. Like they were discussing the weather. "That was cold. Didn't even blink when you cut your own arm off."
He walked over. Kicked the severed limb.
It tumbled across the sand. Purple flesh trailing black streaks.
"Half a second slower?" Sasori's grin was sharp. "Poison Enemy Mountain venom hits your heart? Not even the Sage of Six Paths could save you then."
Danzō glared. Felt the pill working—slowly, too slowly—in his system. Chakra trickling back. Not enough. Not nearly enough.
He needed time.
"How..." His voice was gravel. "How did you... break it?"
"Your technique?" Sasori laughed. "Please. That's Uchiha Kagami's eye. I know exactly how you got it."
Danzō said nothing. Acknowledgment enough.
"My godfather taught me something." Sasori crouched. Eye level now. "See the essence through phenomena. Genjutsu's the same. Doesn't matter how complex—it's still illusion. Find the caster?" He snapped his fingers. "Pop. Bubbles."
"But how?" Danzō's voice cracked. "How did you find me?"
He'd studied that eye for years. Knew its limits—the cooldown, the chakra drain, the compatibility issues. But being discovered like this?
"Read a book sometime, grandpa."
Sasori's smile was wicked.
"Scorpions are blind."
"Six eyes. Zero vision." Sasori held up fingers. "They sense light intensity. That's it. Under bright sun? Maybe ten centimeters of sight. Maybe."
He gestured at Chii.
"Your Sharingan genjutsu? You were winking at a blind man."
Danzō's mind reeled.
"Scorpions perceive the world through body hairs. Touch. Vibration." Sasori tapped his temple. "Sixth sense. Or more accurately—insane reflexes."
Like Guy. Closing his eyes against Itachi. Using sound instead of sight.
Can't see the genjutsu. Can't fall for it.
"My method's better, though." Sasori's voice dropped. Almost conversational. "Sixth sense cuts the transmission medium. Brain never receives the false signals. I didn't just avoid your illusion."
His smile was cold.
"I never saw it at all."
Danzō's jaw clenched. Politics. Strategy. Power. Those were his domains.
Not... biology.
But one thing was crystal clear:
He can kill me whenever he wants.
Three months as Hokage. Three months of plans, of vision, of reshaping the village into something strong—
Buried. In sand. By a CHILD.
Danzō's vision swam. Anger making him dizzy.
What gives you the RIGHT?
I am HOKAGE. The Will of Fire burns in ME.
You're nothing. A puppet-maker. A BOY.
You don't get to extinguish my flame.
"Hey, old man." Sasori's voice cut through the haze. "Let me teach you something else."
Danzō looked up. That smug face. That roguish grin.
I'll kill him. I'll—
"Blood flows at fifteen centimeters per second. You're what, seventy? Those eye bags?" Sasori whistled. "High blood pressure for sure. So your blood's probably moving faster."
He pointed at Danzō's stump.
"Chii grazed your forearm. Seventy-five centimeters from your heart." His grin widened. "Simple math problem: How long did it take you to cut your arm off?"
Danzō's stomach lurched.
"Is it possible—just maybe—that a tiny bit of toxin got through before you severed the limb?"
"Are you feeling... I don't know..." Sasori tilted his head. "Chest tightness? Short of breath? Dizzy? Nauseous?"
Danzō's throat convulsed.
Bile and blood spattering sand.
"You... damn... brat..."
"Don't get excited!" Sasori waved his hands. Mock concern. "Seriously, calm down. You're not dying immediately. These symptoms just mean the dose was tiny."
He held up two fingers. Squinted.
"Congratulations."
Danzō's vision blurred.
"But." Sasori's tone shifted. "It's still fatal. I just don't know how long you've got. Could be minutes. Could be hours."
He pulled out a notebook.
"So I have a favor to ask."
"You know I'm Chiyo's grandson, right? Village poison expert?" Sasori flipped pages. "I've been into toxicology since I was a kid. But Sunagakure's got rules. Can't do human experiments like you Konoha types."
His pen hovered over paper.
"First-hand data on Poison Enemy Mountain venom? Priceless. And you're dying anyway." He looked up. Innocent. "How about contributing to science?"
"I promise—cross my heart—I won't attack you. And when you're gone? Proper funeral. Full honors." Sasori's smile was gentle. "Just... describe what you're feeling. Real-time observations. That's all."
For a moment, Danzō wanted to laugh.
"Scientific spirit." His voice was hoarse. "Impressive."
He beckoned. One-handed.
"Want to know how I feel? Come closer. I'll tell you."
"Nah." Sasori stayed put. "I can hear fine from here."
"Please." Danzō took a step. Stumbled. "Please. I'm... losing strength. Can barely... speak..."
Sasori glanced at his watch. Wrote something.
"Five minutes. Fatigue setting in. Speech difficulties." He looked up. "Interesting."
Danzō's hand moved to his chest.
"Just a bit... closer..."
"You know what?" Sasori's pen scratched. "This is actually—"
Danzō's hand ripped his shirt open.
EIGHT TRIGRAMS SEAL.
Massive. Black. Sprawling across his chest. Ink erupting from the center—
"I AM THE FOURTH HOKAGE!" His voice was thunder. "SHIMURA DANZŌ!"
"I WILL NOT BE HUMILIATED BY A CHILD!"
Black tendrils lashing out. Reaching. Hungry.
"COME TO HELL WITH ME!"
"FOUR SYMBOLS SEAL!"
[Combat Note: Four Symbols Seal = suicide sealing technique, pulls everything nearby into void. Danzō's final gambit = take Sasori with him. Scorpion blindness = biological counter to visual genjutsu. Toxin lecture = Sasori's sadistic curiosity buying time. False weakness = Danzō's trap setup. Both playing games until the end.]
[Body Horror: Purple arm corruption, bone exposure, vomit with blood. Psychological Warfare: Scientific mockery vs pride-fueled rage. Power Reversal: Victim becomes threat in final moment.]
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