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Deidara clamped his mouth shut.
He still had no idea exactly what had happened just now. One moment he was circling high overhead, the next Midorima had somehow appeared right in front of him and delivered a merciless punch straight to his face, sending him crashing down from the sky like a broken kite.
It hurt—a lot—but what stung far worse was the mocking remark that followed: that his high-speed plummet had felt "especially artistic."
Do you even know what ART is?
Rage boiled inside Deidara, yet he forced himself to swallow it. He didn't dare lash out recklessly. The last thing he wanted was for Midorima to slip away again.
Itachi turned his head slightly, studying the situation with cold calculation. From the speed and unpredictability of the technique Midorima had just used, it was clear that if the man truly wanted to escape, their chances of stopping him were slim.
"What now?" Itachi asked over his shoulder.
"Simple," Sasori answered without hesitation. "We may not be able to catch him, but the Eight-Tails shouldn't be quite so slippery, right? If we secure two tailed beasts on this mission and keep casualties to a minimum… I think the leader will accept that outcome."
"That makes sense," Itachi agreed quietly. He glanced toward Kisame and Deidara. Neither raised any objection, which told him they had already accepted the same pragmatic shift in priorities.
If one target proved too elusive, there was no point wasting effort on it. Focus on the one they could actually secure.
Midorima blinked once, then turned to look at Killer B, whose expression had frozen in open bewilderment.
"What do they want?" Killer B asked.
"They want to capture you and the Eight-Tails," Midorima answered matter-of-factly.
"No way that's happening," Killer B said immediately, shaking his head. He reached back and drew the massive sword strapped across his shoulders. "No matter what, we can't let them take us."
Some shinobi preferred a single blade. Others favored twin swords. The truly eccentric went as far as the Seven Swords style.
Killer B, however, took it one step further.
He wielded seven blades simultaneously—hands, mouth, armpits, the crooks of his knees—every joint that could exert clamping force now gripped a ninja sword.
Midorima stared at the sight and mentally gave a nod of genuine respect.
No panel in the manga could ever match the sheer impact of seeing it in person.
"If the four of them surround you, there's no way you'll escape," Midorima said.
"You'll help me deal with them?" Killer B asked hopefully.
"Even for me, taking all four at once would be difficult," Midorima admitted with a small shake of his head.
Sasori and Deidara were comparatively manageable. But Kisame and Itachi were on another level entirely.
Kisame had been the standout prodigy of the younger generation in the Hidden Mist—perhaps even on par with Mei Terumī, though no direct comparison had ever been made. Defeating him would take time and careful planning, especially since he carried Samehada, the living blade that granted him near-limitless possibilities in battle.
And Itachi… Susanoo, Amaterasu—both were nightmarishly difficult to counter.
"So what do we do?" Killer B pressed.
"Option one: we hold out and wait for reinforcements. But you have to be ready for the possibility that any backup gets killed by these four before they reach us. Option two—the one I strongly prefer—is we run. Can you escape?"
"Uh… we can try," Killer B said. He wasn't the type to cling stubbornly to honor if fleeing offered a real advantage.
"Trying to run?" Deidara sneered from above. "I'm not giving you that chance."
With that he shot back into the sky, higher and faster than the last time.
"Midorima," Itachi warned quietly, "don't even think about attacking Deidara the way you did just now. If you do, we'll use the opening to eliminate your partner."
Midorima flicked a glance toward Killer B, quickly weighing the risks on both sides. The conclusion was clear: knocking Deidara down again wasn't worth exposing Killer B to a coordinated assault from the other three.
At the same moment, Sasori unfurled a scroll and summoned the Third Kazekage puppet. Kisame reached behind his back and drew Samehada—still tightly wrapped in white bandages, its true form hidden for now.
"Your opponent is me," Itachi said.
"You might not even be able to keep up with me," Midorima replied with a faint smile.
"We'll see about that."
Itachi's Sharingan spun to life. In the next instant he appeared directly beside Midorima.
Itachi excelled at ninjutsu above all else, but after witnessing Midorima's earlier feat—crossing hundreds of meters in an instant to strike Deidara mid-flight—he refused to let distance open between them. Closing to melee range was the only way to limit the effectiveness of that unknown movement technique. From there he could layer close-combat ninjutsu on top of taijutsu.
Midorima, however, gave him no opening. He vanished again, reappearing a hundred meters away in the blink of an eye.
Itachi's body dissolved into a flock of black crows that scattered into the sky—only for the real Itachi to materialize in front of Midorima once more.
"Itachi," Midorima said as he pivoted to face him, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
"What makes you think I'll answer?"
"Why did you kill Kimimaro?"
"What business is that of yours?"
"Kimimaro was a friend of mine. Since you already know I'm Yoshida Shin, you should also know I was the one who saved Sasuke. Trading that information for the inside details of why you rejoined Akatsuki doesn't seem unreasonable, does it?"
"Not unreasonable," Itachi conceded with a slight shake of his head. "I killed him because I had no choice."
"I figured as much. And I'm guessing it had something to do with Sasuke."
"Correct."
"I never heard anything about Sasuke being in trouble."
"That's because there was no public incident." Itachi lunged forward, kunai flashing toward Midorima's ribs. Midorima sidestepped smoothly; the blade met only air. Itachi pressed the attack, thrusting again—this time straight for the throat.
Midorima caught the wrist in an iron grip.
He immediately felt that Itachi wasn't truly exerting force. The attack had been for show—enough to look convincing to the other Akatsuki members watching from a distance, but not enough to actually harm him.
"Madara captured Sasuke," Itachi continued, pulling back slightly while still maintaining an offensive stance. "He threatened Sasuke's life and forced me to kill Kimimaro as proof of loyalty. That was the only way to make me leave the Hidden Leaf."
"Why target Kimimaro specifically?"
"It didn't matter who died—only that the person who died carried weight. If a Kage from another village had entered Konoha at that moment, they would have suffered the same fate."
Midorima countered with a swift palm strike that Itachi blocked.
"So the entire point was to pressure you?"
"That was part of it. But their deeper goal was to destabilize the Hidden Leaf—to widen the rift between the village leadership and the Uchiha clan."
"You already knew?"
"It wasn't hard to figure out. Especially after they ordered me to kill the Kazekage. That confirmed everything."
Midorima's eyes widened slightly in realization.
"You killed the Kazekage?"
"Not alone. But you can see the pattern, can't you? The more the great ninja villages tear each other apart, the less attention anyone pays to Akatsuki's movements."
Itachi leaped backward, hands flashing through seals.
A towering suit of crimson armor materialized in front of Midorima, skeletal at first, then rapidly filling out with muscle and rib-like plating.
"Susanoo…" Midorima muttered, brow furrowing. "Is this really necessary?"
Given Itachi's current physical condition, maintaining Susanoo placed enormous strain on his already fragile body.
"Any performance has to be convincing," Itachi replied quietly. "We can't let them see through the act."