It turned out that Yakushi Kabuto hadn't lost his memory simply due to a head injury. The truth was far more insidious.
It was Sasori's Brainwave Manipulation Sand Technique that had sealed Kabuto's memories, making them inaccessible even to Akira, who had been attempting to uncover them. The seal had rendered the memories dormant, cloaking Kabuto's past beneath layers of manipulation and deception.
But now, the technique had been undone.
With the seal lifted, Akira finally understood Kabuto's true identity—and the web Sasori had woven across the shinobi world.
Yakushi Kabuto had once been an orphan in Sunagakure, a vulnerable child like many others. But to Sasori, orphans were more than just strays—they were fertile ground. He used his Brainwave Manipulation Sand to condition and control these children, cultivating them into sleeper agents who could climb the ranks of the village, collecting secrets from within.
Before Sasori abandoned Sunagakure, he had chosen several children for his final wave of conditioning. Among them was Kabuto.
One day, Kabuto fell from a high ledge, a tragic accident that damaged his brain and scattered his memories. With his orphan status and fragmented mind, Kabuto became a perfect candidate—a child without identity, direction, or past, ready to be molded.
By a twist of fate, he wandered into Konoha.
Akira couldn't help but admire Sasori's brilliance. He smirked inwardly—this plan was nothing short of genius. Even in the original timeline, Sasori's sleeper agent Yura had infiltrated Sunagakure and risen to the rank of Jonin, proving the efficacy of his methods.
However, Akira still didn't know Sasori's reason for coming to Konoha in person. That made him cautious. He decided to play along, at least for now. Rising slowly to his feet, he gazed at Sasori with what appeared to be genuine reverence.
Seeing Akira steady himself, Sasori finally spoke again.
"You should remember everything now, Zero."
Zero—that had been Kabuto's name before he was given the name Yakushi. Akira nodded slowly.
"Yes, Lord Sasori. I remember everything. I had been following your orders, infiltrating Sunagakure's medical department as an assistant."
"Later, when the war intensified, I was sent to the battlefield. My abilities were too weak, and I was captured by Konoha. I'm sorry for compromising your plans."
Sasori's lips curled slightly, his tone calm and dismissive. "It doesn't matter. I've planted spies in all major villages. One more or less is insignificant. Your capture and relocation to Konoha is actually a blessing—it gives us another window into their operations."
"Continue with the original plan, but now apply it here. Climb the ranks in Konoha. Get close to confidential information. Join an organization with access to secrets. Wait, watch, and collect."
Akira responded with solemn obedience. "Understood, Lord Sasori. I will do my best."
He then paused, tilting his head slightly in mock curiosity. "But your visit to Konoha can't be only for this, can it?"
Sasori chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "You're still sharp, Zero. Yes, there is another reason I sought you out."
His tone darkened slightly.
"There's a rogue ninja from Konoha named Uchiha Kawa. Keep an eye on him. He's powerful and elusive. The information about him is highly classified, so don't rush. First, establish yourself. I have matters to attend to in the Land of Water. I'll return to check on your progress."
Sasori stepped closer, raising a hand. "Now, I will reapply the seal on your memory. It's safer that way."
Akira kept still, but his eyes gleamed with cunning.
"So... you're targeting Uchiha Kawa. How unfortunate," he thought, lips curling in an invisible smile. "Because he's standing right in front of you."
As Sasori reached out, Akira's eyes flashed red. Sasori froze—caught in a genjutsu.
Through the visual link in Hiruko, Sasori's puppet, his main body felt the invasion of abnormal chakra. But as a seasoned Kage-level ninja, Sasori quickly realized the trap and shattered the illusion by forcefully disrupting his chakra flow.
Akira had anticipated this.
He'd been studying the genjutsu of Uchiha Kagami and had made strides, but his chakra reserves were limited. He didn't expect to win through genjutsu.
Instead, he used the moment Sasori faltered.
In a blink, Akira's true body, masked as Uchiha Kawa, appeared beside the clone using the Flying Thunder God Technique. The clone retreated while Akira surged forward, muscles tensed.
His Super Strength Fist, channeled through a body reshaped by his Mangekyo Sharingan's true transformation technique, struck with earth-shattering force.
The blow landed on Hiruko with a thunderous crash. The puppet shattered under the sheer power. It hadn't yet been upgraded to its armored form with a scorpion tail.
As splinters of Hiruko scattered, Akira remained vigilant.
From the ruins, a shadow leapt away—young, red-haired, and furious. It was Sasori's true form, barely a teenager in appearance but brimming with deadly intent.
Even Kabuto had never seen Sasori's real face.
Sasori stared at Akira, both awed and alarmed. He'd seen the Sharingan—he knew now.
"A Uchiha...! But how?! I've covered my tracks...!"
Sasori didn't consider betrayal. He trusted his Brainwave Manipulation Sand completely. To him, the only explanation was that someone had intercepted Zero and planted a delayed-activation genjutsu in him. It was the only way this mysterious Uchiha had found him.
Cautious now, Sasori summoned a puppet from a scroll, readying himself for battle.
"Who are you?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "With that level of power, you can't be a nobody."
Akira smirked, the Mangekyo gleaming. "Why ask? Weren't you just searching for me? Forgotten already, Akasuna no Sasori?"
Sasori's eyes widened. "Uchiha Kawa?! But... you defected. Why are you in Konoha?!"
Akira shrugged. "Konoha is my home. It's not strange that I'd be here. What's strange is you showing up here. I heard everything you told that boy. You dare scheme against someone with godlike power?"
He sneered. "Tell me—was it Liang Jingru who gave you the courage?"
Sasori didn't understand the strange phrase, but the ridicule was clear. His expression hardened.
"If you truly possessed divine power, you wouldn't be skulking in the shadows."
"You flaunt your Mangekyo Sharingan, but you've never shown yourself in full. There must be a flaw. And your lingering presence in Konoha tells me you're after something. Something you can't let fall into anyone else's hands."
Akira raised a brow. Sasori had deduced more than expected. Impressive.
For all his cruelty, Sasori's mind was sharp. From fragments, he'd guessed that the power of Akira's Mangekyo had limits. He was even nearing the truth of Akira's carefully hidden Eternal Mangekyo.
Akira said nothing, his silence deepening the tension.
And thus, the true battle between predator and predator began.
A battle of minds, of power, of shadowed truths—and hidden gods.
Akira had been deliberately building up the legend of Uchiha Kawa's Mangekyo Sharingan—whispering of its overwhelming power, painting it as an enigma too dangerous to confront head-on. But not once had he allowed Kawa to reveal his face in battle.
It was no accident. This calculated move aimed to sow uncertainty and doubt in his enemies, to imply that even this vaunted Sharingan might carry some fatal flaw. If the Mangekyo seemed imperfect, then perhaps no one would bother looking too closely into Kawa's true identity.
Akira's gamble paid off. Sasori of the Red Sand had clearly taken the bait. As cunning as the puppet master was, even he had begun entertaining the idea that there was a hidden imperfection in Kawa's power. And if Sasori had come to that conclusion, others wouldn't be far behind.
Akira couldn't help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. Sasori's deduction was proof that his plan had worked, proof that all the subtle groundwork he'd laid hadn't been for nothing. For a moment, he felt oddly grateful.
But there was always the risk. The finest actors are those who fool even themselves, and Akira knew better than to assume his plan was airtight. What if, despite all his confidence, Sasori somehow slipped through his fingers today?
That thought lit a fire beneath him. Akira narrowed his eyes and twisted his expression into one of mock outrage, his voice rising in wounded pride as he snapped:
"What would an outsider like you understand? The Uchiha clan's Mangekyo has no flaws! It is the true power of a god!"
He infused the declaration with defiant fervor, though he allowed just a trace of doubt to tinge his voice—as if he were trying too hard to believe it himself.
Sasori smirked, seeing through the act—or at least, he thought he did.
"Still just a boy," Sasori mused, eyes narrowing. "So easy to provoke."
In truth, he'd felt a cold thrill of fear upon seeing the Mangekyo Sharingan for the first time. It was the eye wielded by none other than Uchiha Madara, a figure of legend. But that fear had begun to give way to analysis. There had to be a weakness.
No ninja was invincible.
Everyone had a flaw, a crack beneath the surface. Find it, exploit it—and even the greatest power could be broken.
Confidence blooming, Sasori unfurled a scroll and activated his summoning technique.
"Red Secret Technique: Performance of a Hundred Puppets."
Ten chakra threads danced from his fingers, snapping into place with ten puppets. It wasn't the full hundred, but it was enough to test the waters.
Across from him, Uchiha Kawa—Akira in disguise—suddenly widened his eyes, face twisting in fury.
"You dare deceive me, Sasori of the Red Sand?! I'll grind you to dust! Susanoo!"
A jet-black skeletal form erupted around him, tall and looming with only one arm and no head—the initial manifestation of Susanoo.
Akira guided it forward with a sweeping motion. The skeletal hand lashed out toward Sasori like a thunderclap.
In truth, Akira had no strategic reason for the attack. He just wanted to see what it felt like to slap someone with Susanoo.
Sasori dodged with ease, shaking his head in silent judgment.
"All that power and no patience. A child with a sledgehammer."
But Akira's mind was racing beneath the act. Ten puppets only? Could it be that Sasori hadn't yet turned himself into a human puppet?
That would change everything.
Without a Rebirth Core—Sasori's life source—he wouldn't be able to perform the full Puppet Performance. And if the Rebirth Core was still intact, it would mean Sasori's main body remained vulnerable. If Akira failed to locate that core, especially if it could mask its chakra signature from his Sharingan, Sasori might yet escape.
After dodging the Susanoo's slap, Sasori countered with a barrage of poisoned needles, launching them in arcs that would kill a lesser shinobi instantly. But they bounced harmlessly off the swirling black chakra that made up Susanoo's ribcage.
Sasori frowned.
So this was the Susanoo. The very technique said to repel even a Tailed Beast Bomb. As he looked down at the crater left behind by the attack he'd dodged, his unease deepened.
"Even an incomplete body holds such destructive force... I'll need to tread carefully."
And yet—he noted blood trickling from the corner of Kawa's eyes. Mangekyo Sharingan came with a cost.
Sasori smiled darkly.
"That Susanoo is draining you, isn't it? You won't last long. That eye of yours has more flaws than I imagined."
Akira wanted to laugh. Of course it hurts—squeezing out these eyes is worse than pulling teeth. But he forced a cruel smile.
"Flawed or not, I'll destroy you long before I run dry. You've seen nothing yet."
With a flare of his Mangekyo, the Susanoo expanded. Ribs rose into a full torso, dark chakra swirling until a fully formed upper body loomed overhead.
At the same time, Akira quietly created two shadow clones. They flickered into existence at his flanks, cloaked in chakra and silence, moving in from either side.
Sasori didn't notice. His attention was wholly fixed on the growing titan before him.
The clones struck. One lashed out with a heavy punch, the other with a devastating kick. Though Sasori's instincts warned him just in time to raise his guard, he couldn't react fast enough.
A fist slammed into his chest. A heel caught his ribs. Blood spattered the ground.
Sasori reeled, eyes wide.
What just hit me?
He hadn't sensed them. No chakra signature. No warning. Could it be some hidden Mangekyo technique?
Snarling, he responded the only way he knew how.
"Ninpou: Poison Concealment Technique!"
Dozens of his puppets unfurled, vents clicking open. A thick, violet mist spilled across the battlefield, blanketing everything.
Akira recoiled instinctively. He didn't fear Sasori's poison—he believed he could neutralize it—but he had no interest in testing that theory firsthand.
The poison was a smokescreen, much like the Hidden Mist Jutsu. It wasn't just a blinding cloud—it was laced with a paralyzing neurotoxin. More importantly, Sasori could feel through it, detecting everything within its reach.
Within the haze, two near-humanoid figures stood out to him. Strange constructs—likely some sort of clone technique.
"What are these things? They don't even flinch in the gas. But if I can sense them, I can destroy them."
He sent two puppets forward to engage them.
Blows rang out—chakra-laced limbs versus steel-jointed arms. Akira's clones, crafted with Mangekyo chakra but lacking elemental ninjutsu, fought with basic martial force.
If only Akira had learned the Rasengan or mastered Yin-Yang Release. But those techniques were secrets, hoarded by families and clans.
So his clones punched and kicked, unable to leverage their full potential.
Still, they bought him time.
Sasori breathed easier. With the clones stalled, he turned back to the towering Susanoo. Its armor glistened darkly, invulnerable.
He'd heard the tales—it could stop a Tailed Beast Ball—but there had to be a way around it.
Earlier, his poisoned needles had failed to slip through the defense. But Susanoo didn't cover everything.
"So... the weakness is under the feet," Sasori whispered, eyes narrowing as he gazed at the incomplete Susanoo.
He had a plan. And this time, he intended to break through.
One way or another, Uchiha Kawa would fall.