Published at 18th of September 2024 12:38 pm

Chapter 124 Shadows of the Sand: 2 The Price of Perfection

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The Land of Rivers stretched out before them, a landscape vastly different from the arid deserts of the Hidden Sand. Lush green fields and winding rivers painted a tranquil scene, but Sasori’s eyes were fixed on something far more interesting—the distant figures of shinobi moving stealthily through the trees.

“Jinchūriki’s here, un,” Deidara muttered, perched on top of his clay bird as it floated above the forest canopy. “Intel says it’s the Six-Tails. Might be a bit of a challenge, don’t you think?”

Sasori, still concealed within his Hiruko puppet, remained silent. He didn’t care for Deidara’s banter. The mission was straightforward: capture the jinchūriki and deliver it to the Akatsuki. Everything else was irrelevant.

“Always so serious,” Deidara continued, grinning. “You should learn to appreciate the thrill of a real fight, un! Art is an explosion, after all.”

Sasori’s cold, mechanical voice finally broke the silence. “Art is eternal. Explosions are fleeting.”

Deidara sighed in exaggerated frustration, waving a hand dismissively. “You and your obsession with ‘eternity.’ One day, you’ll understand what real beauty is.”

Sasori didn’t respond, his mind already focused on the task at hand. The target, Utakata, the jinchūriki of the Six-Tails, was said to be a skilled shinobi who kept to himself, avoiding conflict. Capturing him would require precision—something Sasori excelled at.

The village where Utakata had been sighted was a small, peaceful place nestled between two rivers. As they approached, Sasori’s eyes scanned the area, noting the layout, the position of the buildings, the possible escape routes. His mind worked like a machine, calculating every possible variable.

“Shall we begin?” Deidara asked, his clay bird descending toward the village.

Sasori didn’t bother replying. His Hiruko puppet moved forward silently, its segmented tail poised to strike at any moment. He would handle this his way.

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The village was quiet when they arrived, the inhabitants unaware of the danger lurking just beyond the treeline. Sasori and Deidara moved with practiced stealth, their presence hidden by the cover of darkness.

They found Utakata in a secluded area near the riverbank, sitting alone, his back turned to them. He was staring out at the water, his expression calm but distant, as if lost in thought.

Deidara smirked. “Looks like he’s not even paying attention, un. This’ll be easier than I thought.”

Sasori knew better. Jinchūriki were never easy targets, no matter how calm they appeared. Still, he made no move to stop Deidara as the bomber silently molded a small clay bird in his palm and sent it fluttering toward Utakata.

“Katsu,” Deidara whispered, triggering the explosion.

The bird detonated with a sharp crack, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air. But when the smoke cleared, Utakata was gone.

“He’s fast,” Deidara muttered, his eyes scanning the area for their target.

Sasori’s eyes narrowed. He had seen it too—the moment before the explosion, Utakata had moved with incredible speed, vanishing from sight. This would not be as simple as Deidara thought.

Suddenly, the water at the riverbank rippled, and a figure rose from the depths. Utakata emerged, a protective barrier of chakra swirling around him, his eyes locked onto the two Akatsuki members.

“So, it’s the Akatsuki,” Utakata said, his voice calm but edged with tension. “I wondered how long it would take for you to come after me.”

Deidara grinned, already preparing another explosive creation. “You should be flattered, un. Not everyone gets this kind of attention!”

But Sasori had no patience for games. “Enough talking.”

With a flick of his wrist, Hiruko’s tail shot forward, its sharp tip aimed directly at Utakata. The jinchūriki reacted instantly, leaping backward to avoid the strike, but Sasori’s iron sand followed him, twisting through the air like a living snake.

Utakata countered with a surge of chakra, summoning a torrent of water that crashed into the iron sand, neutralizing its attack. He was skilled, no doubt, but Sasori could see the cracks in his defense. The jinchūriki was holding back, trying to avoid using the full power of the Six-Tails.

Good. That would make him easier to capture.

Deidara launched his next attack, sending a swarm of clay insects toward Utakata. They buzzed through the air, swarming around the jinchūriki, ready to explode at any moment.

But Utakata was already moving, weaving through the attacks with fluid grace. His control over water was impressive, and he used the river to his advantage, summoning waves and tendrils of liquid to deflect the clay bombs.

Sasori watched, calculating his next move. Deidara’s explosives were a distraction, nothing more. The real attack would come from his puppets.

Without a word, Sasori released Hiruko’s shell, stepping out from the puppet’s confines to reveal his true form. His crimson cloak billowed around him as his eyes locked onto Utakata, cold and unfeeling.

Utakata’s gaze shifted to Sasori, his expression hardening. “So, you’re the one they call Sasori of the Red Sand.”

Sasori said nothing, but his hands moved quickly, summoning a dozen puppets from the scrolls hidden within his cloak. The puppets appeared in a flash, their joints creaking as they surrounded Utakata, forming a deadly ring around him.

“This is your end,” Sasori said, his voice as emotionless as ever.

Utakata’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, but he didn’t hesitate. With a sharp breath, he unleashed a wave of chakra, transforming the water around him into a shield. But it wouldn’t be enough. Sasori’s puppets moved in perfect synchronization, attacking from all sides with blinding speed.

For a moment, Utakata held his ground, deflecting the attacks with his water techniques. But Sasori’s puppets were relentless, each strike pushing him closer to the edge.

Deidara watched from above, his grin widening as the battle unfolded. “He’s putting up a fight, un, but it won’t last.”

Sasori’s eyes never left his target. The moment had come. With a swift command, the puppets converged, their weapons poised to strike.

But in that instant, something changed.

A surge of chakra erupted from Utakata, far stronger than before. His body began to shift, the markings of the Six-Tails spreading across his skin as his form grew larger, more monstrous.

Sasori’s eyes narrowed. The jinchūriki was transforming.

“Finally, some real art!” Deidara laughed, readying his next attack.

But Sasori wasn’t interested in theatrics. His puppets moved again, this time with deadly precision. He wouldn’t let Utakata fully transform. The battle would end here, before the Six-Tails could be unleashed.

With a final command, the puppets struck, their blades slicing through the water shield, piercing Utakata’s body.

The jinchūriki gasped, his chakra flaring wildly as the Six-Tails fought to break free. But it was too late. Sasori’s poison-coated weapons had done their job.

Utakata collapsed, his transformation halting as his body went limp. The chakra of the Six-Tails faded, retreating back into its host.

Deidara landed beside Sasori, looking down at the defeated jinchūriki. “Looks like we got him, un. Nice work.”

Sasori said nothing, already sealing Utakata’s unconscious form into a scroll. The mission was complete, and the Six-Tails would soon be in the Akatsuki’s hands.

But as they prepared to leave, Sasori couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness. Another mission, another victory—but it all felt hollow. Even the perfect capture of a jinchūriki failed to stir any emotion within him.

Because for Sasori, true perfection was still out of reach.

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