The pair stood motionless for a long moment in the early day sun, angled to one side. Light struck the ground, casting the pair's shadows along the ground. A high noonday sun descended over the sky, the clouds passing over the heavens.
Sasori leapt backward suddenly. His black cloak trailed behind his body. Grasping a scroll from the voluminous contents of his robes, he unrolled it.
The white-clad figure ran forward. His hand grasped the sword at his back. He slashed toward the scroll.
"Summoning Technique!" Sasori shouted. A drop of blood fell from the outstretched metallic arm. The unrolled scroll's lines glimmered with bright crimson light. Smoke gathered around the base of the circle.
The white-clad figure leapt backward. For now, I need to get some distance. At least until I know what kind of puppet he's bringing out. He raised his sword defensively. His eyes narrowed. After that Thousand Puppet Army or whatever, I'm sure this thing must be a monstrosity. It's gotta be a lot stronger than that, right?
Sasori's eyes narrowed. He's getting distance. As I said before, that technique is more suited to open warfare than common battle. His hand rose from the scroll slowly. He remained crouched. Sure, it's powerful, and the number of puppets I can field at one time increases. But that's also its problem. There's a limitation to how powerful such techniques can be. He scowled briefly. Which is why you need stronger forces to break lines. His hand lowered. If Hoshigaki Kisame had been in the war he would have been such a line-breaker. But this too is a question of great need. As with most battles, the key is possessing the correct tool against such a villain. Sasori's lips curled upward briefly. And I am prepared so. The value of the eternal art I have created is well worth every hour of labor for such a battle.
A black-haired figure cloaked in a black road rested against the surface of the scroll. The long fingers on the ends of the hands twitched. The ruffed collar of the uniform glimmered with light, reflected from the ends of the silvery fur.
"Hoh." The white-clad figure's eyes narrowed. "That's a nasty little puppet you got yourself there." He scowled. Third Kazekage, is it? He must really be sure it's me. This kind of puppet shouldn't be taken out on anybody. Human puppets are pretty expensive, I hear, and this kind is priceless. Well, even bearing that in mind, I can still get him. I just have to close in. He raised his arm. The metal sword plunged upward in the air. Plus, I can take him out. Seems he wouldn't be amenable to that new world.
Sasori studied the white-clad figure dispassionately. You're attacking me. I'd expect nothing less, Kisame. But to reach me. It'll be a thornier road than you expect.
The white-clad figure glanced upward. His eyes narrowed. So what's this, huh?
He adjusted his posture, assuming a looser stance. His foot slid backward. For now I should try to move so that my back is against the wall.
"Iron Sand Style: Winds of the Scouring Storm." Sasori's fingers flicked outward, delicate, precise as a finely-honed instrument.
The Third Kazekage exhaled, his jaw unhinging for a brief moment to release the embers. Sand rushed upward along the mountainside, rushing toward the white-clad figure. The black sand curved, forming a wall between Kisame and the mountain, pushing steadily away.
The white-clad figure smirked. If I were gonna take a guess, he's poisoned that iron sand of his. Seems like the kinda sneaky thing he'd do. In that case, all I gotta do is just knock it all out of the way, right? He swung the sword downward rapidly. The sand in the air blew away, impacted by the wind of the blade. Then if I come at him head on, I'll smash that bastard's head into meat chunks.
In order to make it through this barrage of attacks, he'd need far more than a will to do so. He needs a verve, a skill surpassing all of this. He needs determination, will, and most importantly a heart that possesses great strength. Sasori's eyes narrowed. He needs all that.
The white-clad figure advanced. His sword swung rapidly through the air, driving into the metal sand rapidly. The pieces of the sand drove into the blade.
And even that will not save you. Sasori sighed heavily. You were a bad match-up. When you die, Kisame, I will hold respect for your foolhardiness. He remained still, focusing his energy into the stillness of the moment.
"Ah?" The white-clad figure's eyes narrowed. Samehada's moving slower. What's up? You eating too much chakra? Normally you don't get this sluggish all that easy. He stared briefly down at the blade. Suddenly his eyes widened. Black motes of sand crawled up the blade.
It may not be by much. Your strength is certainly sufficient to overcome the issue of being unable to move the blade at all. You can continue to wield it. That fact I may not deny either through my strength or imagination. Your strength has been tempered in ways I cannot myself imagine. Sasori's eyes narrowed. But will it be fast enough? Can you so quickly adapt to the changing condition of the match? He twitched his fingers once again.
The iron sand drove forward, rushing toward the figure's exposed muscular arms, covered in blue skin. The swinging sword cut away the iron sand, forcing it downward.
Shit. I get it now. He's making Samehada heavier. The white-clad figure's eyes narrowed. It ain't by much, but even the best swordsman would get screwed over by putting some kind of extra weight on it. Even that guy Unmei or, ah, what was his name again? Killer B? Those two'd get screwed up by that kind of weight. For a guy like me, even if my kenjutsu is top notch, I'm gonna have trouble with it. He swung his sword rapidly in a circle, the edge of the sword driving into the sand. More sand crept up the blade. And it's just gonna keep getting worse. Exploding Water Colliding Wave could do something, probably, but even that's a risky option. If it goes wrong, I'm trying to swing my sword underwater with even more pressure against me. The white-clad figure's eyes narrowed. I really don't want to fight with a time limit against this guy. He's definitely not done yet.
Now then. What will you do, Kisame? I'm not going to play around for longer than a second. Sasori's hand rose in the air. This technique isn't the limit of my abilities. To begin with it's only to weaken you. I won't kill you yet. If I'm not sure that I can do it, I shouldn't attempt it.
"Water Style: Water Clone!" The white-clad figure's hands clapped together. He leaped backward as the clone raised its blade. A faint grin crossed the figure's face. Goddamn. I'm startin' to enjoy myself. He's not the type that gets the blood boiling, but there's a strong chance of me dying if I take him lightly.
Ah, interesting. A delay. This is certainly not unexpected. But it won't last you even an instant. Kisame. For reasons of my own I can respect you, but as a traitor to the organization you must die. That's all there is to it. Sasori's fingers tightened together, forming a prism as he focused his energies through the puppet. "Iron Sand Style: World of Black Sand!"
Black sand coiled upward through the wide-open mouth of the Third Kazekage, forming branches from a central sphere of sand.
The white-clad figure scowled. Tch. This ain't gonna be easy on me at all, huh? I better try out something. Else I'm gonna be a dead man. He raised the sword in the air, ignoring the clinging pieces of black sand. "Rain Water Shark Technique!" he shouted, his sword pointing upward like an arrow.
Rain droplets shot downward, aiming toward the center of the iron ball. The droplets shot closer.
Sasori's fingers twisted rapidly. A black sheet of iron covered the heavens. You won't escape that easily.
The sharks crashed uselessly against the ceiling of iron. Droplets of salt rain descended through the gaps in the sand.
The white-clad figure began slowly to laugh. He raised his hands in the air, his expression annoyed. "You still managed to kill me pretty good there." He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Sasori.
Sasori said nothing. His expression within the dark form of the puppet remained silent.
"Ain't you gonna say something?" The white-clad figure tilted his head to one side.
"Unlikely. After all, you'll be dead soon, Hoshigaki Kisame." Sasori paused. There's no point speaking to a man who has already died.
The white-clad figure's eyes narrowed. I don't have much choice here, do I? Damned if I do, damned if I don't. If I die here, I lose the value of my existence. If I don't die, I'll have to reveal to this guy at least a little of the truth. He tightened his grip on the sword. I just gotta take off his head. If I can do that, I think I can end his life.
Sasori's hand lowered. His fingers delicately pressed together, the pads touching neatly.
The black sand rushed toward the white-clad figure's clone.
The white-clad figure's eyes widened. He spun the sword rapidly in a circle around his body, deflecting sand with one hand raised high in the sky.
The sand drove into the clone's body. A brief moment passed before the body collapsed into water.
The white-clad figure's hands blurred rapidly in a circle. He jumped backward. I get it. He's trying to push me over the edge of the mountain. It's cheap, but I get it. "You really think I'd take the fall for you?" he demanded sharply.
Sasori did not speak. His fingers creaked as the gears within his body moved rapidly. Farewell, Hoshigaki Kisame.
"Che." The white-clad figure's hands clapped together rapidly. "Water Style: Water Clone Technique!"
Sasori's eyes narrowed. What does he intend now? His fingers tightened into a fist. The black sand enveloped the clone and rushed rapidly toward the white-clad figure.
"Water Style: Great Water Shark Bullet Technique!" The white-clad figure's fingers laced together in a series of rapid patterns. A massive water form shaped like a shark engulfed the black sand.
Black sand, soaked in water, collapsed to the ground.
The bullet drove with exceeding force into Sasori's body. An explosion radiated from the ceramics.
"Heh heh." The white-clad figure grinned. He rubbed the side of his hand. "Looks like the fight's over. I guess we can bury you alongside one of your pots."
A silence remained across the battlefield. The pieces of the Third Kazekage remained fully assembled, only one part of the head resting motionless on the mountain path
The white-clad figure turned away.
"How the hell am I going to explain this to Deikōgi-san?" Sasori muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples. He rose out from the iron cage, his eyebrows furrowed. His black-cloaked body shone brightly in the light.
The white-clad figure blinked. He turned his head, his hand still grasping the hilt of the sword.
"I had nearly a thousand and one puppets destroyed today." Sasori hopped out of the broken pieces of the scorpion puppet. His hands brushed off his body, cleaning off the shattered pieces of the ceiling. "Gimme a break. Even if I am up against a freak like you, Kisame-san, that's truly unnatural. My art even with its current state does not have that far to go."
Kisame's eyes narrowed. "That's why I'd hoped not to have to use that technique." He adjusted the sword on his back. If things went according to plan, I'd just keep hitting the sand until Samehada had his fill. But that'd take quite a while, and I didn't have that time.
"My eternal art lies in shambles around me. I can't change the fact that they were destroyed." Sasori looked upward levelly. His hand rose in the air. "I will just have to wipe out that humiliation by reporting I destroyed the Monster of the Hidden Mist, when I return to Akatsuki."
The Third Kazekage began to move again. The remaining iron sand gathered into a massive hammer, shimmering in the light of the energy.
Kisame's eyes narrowed. "Heh. Seems like you're finally whetting your puppeteer's hands, huh?" He grinned. "It's the same way for me, though. No way I can let your blabber mouth run back to Akatsuki with this news. The timing isn't right for that." He slashed the sword downward rapidly.
The chakra strings spread out from Sasori's sides, moving through exposed sections of the cloak. The air glimmered brightly.