Naruto: Burning Will

Faced with Hyuga Ke's direct charge, Deidara, already flustered from being pressed so relentlessly, didn't have time to react. A flurry of Gentle Fist strikes landed squarely. His body, already scorched and battered, now staggered under a fresh wave of chakra-disrupting blows. His face was swollen, his mandible dislocated, and his signature blond hair—usually tied in a bold braid—hung in wild, sweaty disarray.

The final flurry suffocated his chakra flow.

"Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms!" Hyuga Ke shouted, chakra flaring with each strike.

It was more effort than he'd put into most missions, especially after working with Mizuki to escape the net of Deidara's clay bombs. Each palm strike drained him, but he forced his body to keep moving. With the last hit to Deidara's chest, the Akatsuki member crumpled to the ground in a heap, groaning incoherently.

Mizuki blinked in disbelief.

"Was it really that easy? No way…"

He had assumed Deidara would be the tougher opponent. Mizuki had fought tooth and nail to even the playing field, only to find that the Deidara of this time—just sixteen years old—was still far from the menace he'd later become.

"Three years makes that much difference? From this to a guy who almost nuked an entire village?"

Sasuke had grown from a vengeful rookie to someone who could devour Orochimaru. Naruto had gone from class clown to shinobi powerhouse. Gaara had become Kazekage. But Deidara—still raw, still impulsive—was clearly not there yet.

"His talent's there," Mizuki mused. "But the maturity? Not so much. He panicked the moment things got messy."

If Deidara had maintained composure, this outcome might've been avoided. But even so, Mizuki couldn't afford to pity him now.

Meanwhile, Gaara's support allowed Hiashi Hyuga to finally manage the relentless barrage of hidden weapons. The sand shield's ability to neutralize large-scale attacks with minimal chakra expenditure made it ideal for supporting someone like Hiashi, who relied on rotation and precise strikes.

The Red Sand Scorpion—Sasori—watched in growing irritation.

Deidara's earlier scream had already annoyed him. And now, the clay explosions had gone silent.

"What the hell is Deidara doing?" Sasori muttered.

In Sasori's view, Deidara's opponents—Yuhi Kurenai, Gaara, Mizuki, and a few Hyuga—weren't worth worrying about. Kurenai was an illusionist. Mizuki was unfamiliar. Gaara wasn't even fully in control of Shukaku. A serious Deidara could've easily flown above them all and rained death from above.

The reality unfolding now made no sense.

Sasori, for all his cynicism, had always valued artistic perfection in death. He had long since abandoned the human body, keeping only a chakra core in his puppet shell. To him, the Akatsuki wasn't a cause—just a tool. Like most members, he didn't believe in Nagato's "peace."

Still, he did find Deidara interesting. Despite their disagreements over what constituted art, they both pursued beauty in destruction.

"Maybe I should check on him. He might be dead already."

Sasori pushed forward, ignoring the attacks from Gaara and Hiashi. Hiruko—his puppet armor—deflected most of the incoming sand and chakra-infused strikes. With a sweep of its steel tail, he cleared a path to the collapsed Deidara.

"Getting beaten this badly… embarrassing," Sasori muttered as his tail spun to create a protective barrier.

Deidara groaned, trying to realign his jaw. "Brother Sasori… thanks. I really got caught off guard this time."

Sasori scowled. "You didn't even use your best moves. You just flailed around."

"I wasn't expecting them to be this coordinated. The illusionist almost got me killed…"

Sasori didn't answer. He'd already assessed the damage: bruises, chakra blockages from Gentle Fist, surface burns, jaw dislocation. Painful, but not lethal. Deidara would live.

"The real issue is your chakra flow. Soft Fist damage will take time to recover from," Sasori noted.

"I'll be better next time. Just… caught off guard, is all."

Mizuki, watching from a distance, sighed in frustration. "Kurenai should've just finished him. Now Sasori's protecting him, and we missed our window."

He couldn't blame her entirely—capturing Deidara alive might've seemed useful. But the price was steep. Give Deidara time to recover, and he'd become a threat again.

Still, Mizuki knew better than to voice this to the others. He was just a Chūnin, and despite his tactical value, he wasn't in charge. Besides, Kurenai was a Jōnin.

With Deidara out of commission for now, the focus shifted to Sasori.

"I can't fight yet… my body's still too battered," Mizuki thought. "And unlike Deidara, Sasori won't give me another shot."

He reached for a vial—his universal recovery potion. Injecting half, he waited for it to take effect.

Hiashi noticed. "You used the potion? That serious?"

"I'll recover. But I need full strength. That puppet's shell is almost unbreakable. Leave breaching it to me."

"You have a plan?"

"Not guaranteed. But the odds are better than zero."

"Good enough."

Hiashi nodded grimly. "Let's do it. You, me, and Gaara attack. The others hold the perimeter and keep an eye on Deidara."

Earlier, Hiashi had nearly died fending off Sasori's poison barrage. He didn't want a repeat. Now that Gaara was in the fray, their odds had improved.

"Gaara, are you good to fight?" Mizuki asked.

Gaara gave a curt nod. "I'm fine. Chakra reserves are full."

Mizuki exhaled.

"As expected from a Jinchūriki. You guys really don't run out of chakra."

He would still need to be conservative with his own chakra supply, but Gaara could sustain prolonged combat.

"Alright. Let's move."

The Red Sand Scorpion wouldn't go down easy, but if they could disable Hiruko, the odds would shift. They didn't need to kill Sasori—just force him to retreat.

And that, Mizuki thought, was a battle they might actually win.

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