In the original Naruto canon, Sasori of the Red Sand is a character given unusually deep focus. That depth of portrayal makes him more layered than some main characters.
This has little to do with screen time. Sasori himself is a tragic figure—one that naturally leaves a strong impression. His story has a clear beginning and end, his motivations are easy to understand, and although he is a villain, he's not the kind people instinctively hate.
If one had to blame someone… well, that debt probably still lay with Konoha's White Fang.
Because of this, even a non-specialist like Hagoromo was familiar with Sasori's existence in the Naruto world.
From the perspective of combat theory, puppeteers were never suited for close combat. When an opponent closed in too much, Sasori's focus would inevitably spike, making it harder to find an opening for a surprise attack.
After all, no matter what technique was used, ambushing a fully alert Kage-level ninja was never easy.
That was precisely why Hagoromo's earlier actions hadn't been an attempt to flee. If he truly wanted to run, he would have activated Lightning Release long ago.
His goal had simply been to deliberately widen the distance between himself and Sasori—to lull the latter into lowering his guard.
With the Third Kazekage puppet acting as an intermediary, the distance between Hagoromo and Sasori had already exceeded fifty meters. That was well beyond the effective range of most ninjutsu. Naturally, Sasori's vigilance toward Hagoromo dropped.
And then—
During the pursuit, Hagoromo suddenly turned and launched a surprise attack.
Sasori was caught in concentrated fire.
This distance might have been outside most ninjutsu ranges, but in terms of positioning, it was more than enough. One glance was all Hagoromo needed to precisely lock onto Sasori.
And Hagoromo didn't rely solely on ninjutsu.
If he tried to fight Sasori using only standard ninja techniques, his odds of winning would be almost zero.
Visible to the naked eye, his white hair stood on end.
Shiraishi Hagoromo instantly bristled.
Lightning Spear—activated!
Overwhelming electric current condensed into a dazzling blue-white lance of light. Its speed far exceeded the limits of vision, nerve response, and physical reaction.
Even veteran shinobi couldn't react.
Even battle-hardened Kage-level shinobi couldn't react.
This was speed that existed on a level that simply couldn't be dodged or defended against.
Even advanced space–time techniques like Flying Thunder God or Kamui required activation time. In theory, as long as Hagoromo struck first, no one could evade Lightning Spear.
To disguise it in the future, should he ever use it publicly, Hagoromo decided he'd call it:
Chidori Spear — Third Form.
A path of destruction instantly connected Hagoromo and Sasori, piercing everything along that straight line.
Trees.
Boulders.
And the target at the far end—
Sasori of the Red Sand.
"Tch."
After completing the attack, Hagoromo didn't retreat. Instead, he stood atop a thick tree branch and clicked his tongue.
There was dissatisfaction in that sound.
His ambush had been aimed at Sasori's neck. By his calculations, that strike should have taken off Sasori's head.
This wasn't bloodlust—it was practicality. Against puppeteers, especially someone like Sasori, even decapitation didn't guarantee death.
Who knew what kind of inhuman modifications Sasori had already made to himself?
Yet Sasori's head hadn't flown off.
Those assumptions had been ideal conditions. Lightning Spear was unavoidable once fired—but its activation still required a brief moment.
Hagoromo himself wasn't fast enough.
The instant he spun around and a point of light began forming at the center of his forehead, Sasori sensed danger.
A Kage-level ninja's intuition, reaction speed, and evasive instinct were on full display.
Before Sasori consciously processed the threat, his body had already shifted sharply to the left.
Lightning Spear struck.
The damage would have been catastrophic for any ordinary person—
Sasori's right arm was severed cleanly at the shoulder.
But Hagoromo saw it clearly.
Not a single drop of blood spilled.
That arm had already been completely puppetized.
That was why Hagoromo felt regret.
He had used his ultimate trump card—and yet, for Sasori, the damage was negligible.
One major reason this fight was even possible was Hagoromo's intelligence advantage. He knew Sasori well. Sasori knew nothing about him.
In shinobi combat, the importance of intelligence needed no explanation.
The classic example was Jiraiya vs. Pain. Because of the information gap, the Toad Sage was suppressed by his own student and ultimately died.
But intelligence advantages eroded with every exchange.
Losing an arm was nothing to a puppeteer of Sasori's caliber. Hagoromo had stopped advancing, but after evading Lightning Spear, Sasori didn't slow down at all—he continued charging forward.
Disrupt puppet control?
Impossible.
From the wound at his shoulder, several chakra threads extended instantly, reconnecting to the Third Kazekage puppet.
No hesitation. No grimace.
Sasori continued advancing while controlling the puppet. At the same time, he realized one thing clearly—
This Konoha ninja had more hidden cards.
And now, Sasori would have to get serious.
In just a few steps, Hagoromo entered the puppet's attack range.
The Third Kazekage puppet opened its mouth.
Black matter poured out like fog—dispersing, then converging.
Iron Sand.
What came next was obvious.
Magnet Release: Iron Sand Drizzle.
Similar to Hiruko's Needle Barrage—but denser, faster, and utterly overwhelming.
And then—
Hagoromo "froze."
Yes, froze.
Not from fear.
In truth, this attack posed zero threat to him.
Iron Sand?
He was an expert too.
Facing the storm of Iron Sand, Hagoromo casually raised a hand before his chest.
Lightning flickered.
Like a whale drawing in water, the Iron Sand converged midair, streaming toward his palm and flowing obediently into his control.
Sasori immediately sensed something wrong.
He had lost control of the puppet's Iron Sand.
In moments, Hagoromo seized full dominance. With a single thought, the massive mass of Iron Sand compressed under intense magnetic force—
Forming a solid iron gourd.
Boom.
The gourd—nearly as tall as Hagoromo—landed heavily on the tree trunk beneath his feet.
What just happened?
For once, Sasori's mind genuinely stalled.
Hagoromo, however, was perfectly clear-headed. He bent his knees, hoisted the heavy iron gourd onto his shoulder, and straightened.
Purely on impulse.
Let it be clearly stated—this had no tactical meaning whatsoever.
It was pure impulse.
Hagoromo steadied the gourd, aimed its mouth directly at Sasori, then dramatically recited a creatively modified mashup of two extremely well-known "life mentors," using theatrical cadence:
"Gold gourd~ Silver gourd~
None of them compare to my iron gourd~"
Then he shouted:
"Sasori of the Red Sand—if I call your name, do you dare answer?!"
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