c153 – Figure it Out
Gen Uchiha didn't flinch when Sasori unleashed the barrage. Instead, he clasped his hands, and the silver-white blade Mu Sheng contracted midair, twisting into a seamless circular shield before him.
Clang, clang, clang!
The storm of Iron Sand needles bounced harmlessly away.
Sasori's brow twitched. That sword again… It lengthened, shrank, and moved as if alive, without chakra threads. Even his human puppets required control but this? It was unnervingly autonomous.
Overhead, Konan reformed from scattered sheets of paper, her golden eyes narrowing. From her hands, dozens of folded paper lances formed, each with a detonating tag concealed within. They streaked downward in waves.
"Fire Style: Explosive Flame Bullet!"
Gen spat out a stream of ember-sized fireballs, which swelled midair into blazing spheres the size of heads.
Boom, boom, boom!
Fireballs detonated one after another, colliding with Konan's paper spears. The hidden tags ignited prematurely, torn apart in a series of concussive blasts. Paper scraps ignited midair, and Konan had to dart aside, dispersing her body into fluttering sheets to avoid being burned.
Sasori clicked his tongue. "You play with toys too?" His fingers flicked. From beneath Gen's feet, chakra threads whipped out like serpents, snapping toward his joints.
This was Chakra Thread Manipulation, originally a battlefield trick for moving corpses when puppets were destroyed. Sasori, ever inventive, had refined it to bind living shinobi.
Yet just as the threads neared, Gen tilted his body. A flicker of wind chakra danced over his palm as he slashed. The threads snapped like brittle twine.
"You think such tricks are hidden from my Sharingan?" Gen smirked, catching Mu Sheng as it fell into his grasp. His scarlet eyes gleamed with quiet arrogance.
Sasori stiffened. Boy? He's younger than me!
Irritation flickered across his usually impassive face. With a wave, he sent the Third Kazekage puppet soaring forward. Its arms opened, hidden blades flashing, poison glistening on their edges. Iron Sand swirled around it, writhing like a storm.
At the same time, Konan rained down giant shuriken of hardened paper, their paths spiraling to cover every escape route. A net of death, designed to leave no blind spot.
But Gen was hardly ordinary prey.
"Earth Style: Earth Dome!"
His palms slammed the soil. Stone erupted, curving into a hardened barrier encasing him. Paper shuriken struck with dull thuds, bouncing off. Even the Kazekage puppet's poisoned blade glanced harmlessly across its surface.
"Then try this."
Sasori's fingers twitched again. Iron Sand surged skyward, forming a massive triangular pyramid. With a screech, it spun downward like a drill, gravity and magnetism behind its weight.
Crash! The pyramid slammed into the dome, bursting it apart. Smoke and rubble flew.
Through the haze, Gen's silhouette leapt free, his expression unreadable. "That's enough. Playtime's over. I won't be polite if you press me further."
Truth was, he hadn't fought seriously. Against Konan and Sasori at this stage victory was his. But he held back for two reasons.
First, he held a soft spot for Konan. Second, and more importantly, both had value alive. Their futures within Akatsuki promised more benefit than their deaths and stolen lifespans ever could.
Sasori scowled. "Damn Uchiha brat… you dare look down on me?"
He drove the Kazekage puppet forward for a finishing strike but the ground split. A second Gen erupted upward in front of him.
"Tch!" Sasori lashed out, a steel-toed kick launching toward the clone's chest. Dozens of poisoned needles shot from hidden compartments in his sandal.
The strike pierced only for Gen's body to crumble into dirt. A shadow clone.
"Behind me!"
Too late. Killing intent pressed against the back of his neck. Sasori froze as a cold blade traced his throat.
"If you want to kill, then kill," he said flatly, his tone unyielding. Beneath the calm, though, lay frustration. He was still flesh, still mortal, years away from turning himself into the puppet body he envisioned.
Gen chuckled. Tilting his head skyward, he called: "What do you think, beautiful lady? Should I kill him?"
Konan descended silently, papers fluttering like wings. Her expression betrayed nothing. "What does it matter to me if he dies? Before you arrived, he was my opponent."
"Oh?" Gen's smile widened. "Then why hold back? Enemies don't fight halfheartedly. And if you truly didn't care, you would've flown away instead of watching."
Konan's eyes narrowed. Silence stretched before she said softly: "What do you want?"
She thought of Nagato's words. This was her first mission to recruit a new member into Akatsuki, and Sasori was too valuable to lose.
"I came out of curiosity," Gen said lightly, "but you both attacked me without warning. If I weren't strong enough, I'd be dead. You owe me compensation."
Sasori blinked, his mind snagging. Compensation? Did this Uchiha truly not recognize the Third Kazekage puppet before him? Impossible… yet perhaps not. The Kazekage's disappearance was whispered of, but years had passed, and few alive could identify the truth.
He felt a grudging relief. Negotiation meant survival. His art was unfinished he couldn't die yet.
Konan, too, exhaled quietly. Few shinobi matched the qualities Nagato sought. To replace Sasori if he fell would be troublesome indeed.
"What compensation?" she asked at last. "But be warned. Ask for too much, and I'll refuse outright."
Gen tapped his chin, letting his eyes linger on Konan as though weighing the request carefully.
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