Chapter 176: Sacrificing the Plum to Save the Peach
The slanting rays of the evening sun pierced through the gaps in the towering treetops, casting mottled shadows on the ground. Mizuki's mood mirrored those patterns—joy at surviving mixed with shadows of lingering dread.
Once he found the right method, solving his internal crisis had been smooth, if not without some turbulence. Thanks to the combined effort of elite jōnin Aoba Yamashiro and Maki from Sunagakure, Mizuki had successfully expelled the rampaging foreign energies—natural energy and the tailed beast chakra. The ordinary chakra injected into him quickly dissipated once it left their bodies.
Having narrowly escaped disaster, Mizuki felt genuinely relieved. Yet looking at the exhausted Aoba and the weary Maki, he once again appreciated the sheer chakra reserves of true jōnin. Barring rare exceptions like Kakashi, most were like Maki and Aoba—strong and enduring.
Still, prodigies made the world feel unfair. Mizuki's [Breath-Holding Technique] gave him a chakra pool that dwarfed most jōnin. But even that paled in comparison to natural monsters like Naruto, Gaara, or Kisame.
Glancing at his depleted chakra system and injured chakra pathways, Mizuki knew he wouldn't be able to fight at full strength for a while. Until he recovered, calling on chakra recklessly was out of the question.
Still, he was satisfied. No life-threatening injuries, no cellular damage. After back-to-back battles, that was already an incredible outcome.
As for hidden consequences… those could wait.
Mizuki looked up at the sky, where a messenger hawk circled and cried out rhythmically. He gave a bitter smile.
"So, it's over on that side too? Even in this world, key characters always arrive late."
The hawk confirmed that the assassination mission had concluded. Mizuki had no part in Konoha's darker dealings, and his part in this mission was wrapping up. All that remained was escorting the two genin and heading back with Aoba.
Later, as everyone rested and recovered, there were mixed emotions. Relief that the Akatsuki hadn't returned with reinforcements—but also regret at their losses.
Objectively speaking, the battle results were impressive. The destruction of Sasori—who alone could wipe out a country—was a massive victory. They'd also driven off Hidan and Kakuzu, monsters with pseudo-immortality. But the cost had been steep.
Iwagakure's elite jōnin Akatsuchi and Kurotsuchi had survived, but many others perished—especially when blindsided by internal betrayal and mirror clone techniques. Sunagakure had fared better, with fewer people but more elite forces. Even so, losing two jōnin was a blow.
Ironically, Konoha's small group was the most intact.
As night fell, the three villages decided to rest and march the final leg together in the morning.
…
After a simple meal, Mizuki sat by a gentle stream, letting his thoughts settle.
This clarity—this quiet perception—was the state he preferred. For him, sensory perception was like a third eye, helping him understand the world. But ever since entering Sage Mode, that sense had felt muffled, like his world had been veiled in fog. The dullness had driven him nearly mad.
Now, that haze was gone. The world felt vivid again. Birds in the sky, insects in the grass, fish beneath the water—he sensed them all.
After a while, Mizuki picked up the Blood-Soaked Triple-Bladed Scythe lying beside him. He flicked the blade with a finger, the steel chiming crisply. Satisfied, he nodded.
This weapon had been retrieved by Aoba while Mizuki had been occupied. Along with a sealed portion of Hidan's shattered body, Mizuki planned to study them later. Hidan's absurd vitality intrigued him.
As for the scythe—it had survived Mizuki's attacks with barely a scratch. Whether he kept it or reforged it into a better weapon, he'd ask a smith back in the village.
Just then, Mizuki sensed a small figure approaching. Frowning, he turned.
"Something's up…"
A moment later, Hyuga Neji stepped out from the shadows.
"What is it, Neji?"
"I noticed something suspicious," Neji said gravely. "I believe we have a problem."
"…Who?"
"The Iwagakure prisoner—Deidara."
"…What?" Mizuki blinked, taken aback. "Deidara? That doesn't make sense."
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely," Neji said firmly. "Before the mission began, I inspected him. Despite being heavily sealed, his chakra traits were very distinct. But now… he's completely unbound. And I believe he's pretending to be a prisoner."
"Pretending? But why not escape earlier?" Mizuki started to ask, then froze mid-thought.
"…I see. Too late, huh."
The realization struck. He'd already escaped. The Deidara in camp was likely a clone or replacement.
"White Zetsu… always one step ahead."
Someone capable of mimicking chakra so perfectly and bypassing Mizuki's senses—only a White Zetsu clone could do that.
Mizuki's mood soured immediately.
"When did you notice this? Who else knows?"
"Just after we regrouped with Iwagakure. I haven't told anyone else yet."
"Good." Mizuki nodded. "Forget this ever happened. Deidara's now Iwa's responsibility. Whatever happens—it's not Konoha's problem."
"…Is that safe?"
"Leave it to me." Mizuki said confidently. If it were someone like Tobi, he'd worry—but a White Zetsu spy? Let him look all he wants. Iwa would eventually find out and eliminate him.
"What about traveling together with them?"
"Go rest, Neji. You'll see in the morning."
Understanding the implication, Neji didn't press further and left. Mizuki turned to his owl perched silently in the shadows.
"Now… how much should I include in the mission report?"
…
In a hidden base, Kakuzu was sewing Hidan back together. All the while, Hidan cursed nonstop.
"Shut up, Hidan, or I'll kill you myself."
"Try it, bastard! If you'd waited, we could've killed that white-haired freak—he was running on fumes!"
Kakuzu's thread paused midair. "Big talk from someone who got flattened."
"Come on, I'm missing half my body! You didn't even bring my scythe back! That was my favorite weapon!"
Kakuzu ignored him. Instead, his gaze turned to the door.
"…Who's there?"
The air chilled.
The door creaked open. Two figures entered. In front, a golden-haired teen with an arrogant smirk and wild blue eyes—Deidara. Behind him, a pale stranger—clearly a Zetsu clone.
"Well, well," Kakuzu muttered. "You actually escaped. Impressive. And that one behind you… a Zetsu? No wonder."
Out in the field, Zetsu had the perfect environment to rescue people. Disrupt the battlefield, sneak in, swap the real Deidara with a clone. Classic infiltration.
"Thanks for the assist," Deidara said. "A pity Sasori-sempai died though. Such a loss… though art is eternal, yeah?"
Despite his words, Deidara's smile remained as eerie as ever.
…
Konoha—late at night.
The lights in the Hokage's office still burned. Tsunade massaged her temples, frowning at a stack of reports. She reached for her teacup—empty.
"Sigh… a bunch of troublesome idiots."
"Keep frowning like that and you'll age faster."
Jiraiya's flippant voice echoed as he appeared on the windowsill behind her.
"Are you really the one to say that?" Tsunade shot back, barely containing her irritation.
"Details." Jiraiya grinned. "You called me over—what's up?"
"Look at this." Tsunade pulled out two intel files and handed them over.
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