Return of the Uchiha Prodigy

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Itachi's gaze was steady, unyielding, as it locked onto Huitu's. The murderous intent in the Iwa ninja's eyes was clear, but Itachi saw no reason for concern. Huitu wouldn't dare act, not against him.

Even if Huitu's hostility boiled over into action, it would amount to nothing. Neither he, Kurotsuchi, nor Deidara could pose a threat capable of harming Itachi. And should things escalate, Onoki, the Third Tsuchikage, would have no choice but to swallow his pride and accept the losses—no matter how bitter.

Konoha had already shown restraint during these negotiations, but they would not bow to every demand. History had taught them better.

During the Third Shinobi World War, we fought because we refused to be oppressed by the four great nations, Itachi reflected. Now, Iwa stands alone. Do they truly believe they can challenge Konoha?

Itachi stepped toward Izumi and Shikaku, his composure unbroken, and turned to face the Iwa nin. He saw the conflict unfolding behind their masks of calm.

Huitu placed a firm hand on Deidara's shoulder, his chakra flowing with precision. The illusion trapping Deidara fractured under his interference.

Deidara gasped, his body trembling as clarity returned to his sharp blue eyes. That clarity was quickly replaced with fury. His gaze snapped to Itachi, burning with indignation.

"You… damn bastard!" Deidara spat, reaching toward his tool pouch.

"Enough." Huitu's voice was cold as steel, his hand stopping Deidara mid-motion. "The mission has failed. We withdraw."

Deidara gritted his teeth, his frustration palpable. He understood Huitu's reasoning. They had been outmaneuvered; the situation was hopeless. Yet the truth only deepened his rage.

He turned back to Itachi, anger simmering beneath the surface. "You didn't beat me fairly! That wasn't a proper fight!"

Itachi said nothing, his expression unreadable. Deidara's frustration was expected. For someone as prideful and stubborn as Deidara, accepting defeat was impossible without confrontation.

"I want a real fight!" Deidara snarled, shaking off Huitu's grip. "No tricks, no interruptions. Just us. If I lose again, my life is yours."

Kurotsuchi frowned, stepping forward. "Brother Deidara, enough!" Her voice was sharp but carried a hint of concern. "You lost. Whatever the reason, it doesn't change the result."

Deidara didn't respond. His tunnel vision focused solely on Itachi.

Itachi remained silent for a moment, observing him. Finally, he exhaled softly. "Very well," he said. "I'll fight you again."

"Itachi!" Izumi's voice broke through the tension, her worry evident. She stepped closer to him, her brows furrowed. "You don't have to do this."

"It's fine." Itachi glanced at her, his voice calm and steady. "It won't take long."

Shikaku crossed his arms, his analytical gaze fixed on Itachi. "Don't underestimate him, Itachi. Deidara's not just a hothead—he's dangerous."

Itachi nodded slightly, then stepped forward. "Shall we?"

Huitu and Kurotsuchi exchanged uneasy glances but retreated, knowing there was no stopping Deidara now. Izumi and Shikaku followed suit, creating enough space for the fight.

The tension was electric as Itachi and Deidara faced each other.

Deidara's hands moved swiftly, weaving seals with practiced precision. Yet, to the onlookers, Itachi's hands were a blur of shadows, the speed of his movements almost impossible to track.

Before anyone could fully register it, Itachi finished his hand signs.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

The words were spoken with calm authority as Itachi exhaled. A searing inferno erupted from his mouth, expanding rapidly into a massive fireball. The heat distorted the air, and the fire roared as it barreled toward Deidara.

Deidara's eyes widened, his concentration faltering for a split second. He hadn't expected Itachi's ninjutsu to be unleashed so quickly. His own seals were only just completed as the fireball closed the distance.

"Earth Style: Subterranean Voyage!"

The ground beneath Deidara softened into sand, and he dove into it just in time to avoid the flames. The fireball roared past him, the heat scorching his sleeve and reddening his cheeks. Sweat poured down his face as he re-emerged a few meters away, his breathing uneven but determined.

Without hesitation, Deidara reached for his ninja tool bag, pulling it open with urgency. His right hand, adorned with its grotesque mouth, bit into a chunk of white clay. The palm-mouth chewed hungrily, molding the explosive material.

But even as Deidara prepared his counterattack, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A shadow loomed behind him, fast and silent.

Itachi.

Deidara's instincts screamed danger, and he threw himself flat to the ground, narrowly avoiding the kunai aimed for his back. The weapon sliced through the air, missing him by mere inches.

How is he this fast?!

Deidara's palm-mouth stopped chewing just as he completed a seal with his free hand. Swinging his arm upward, he released several fist-sized clay birds. They shot out in formation, fluttering erratically toward Itachi.

"Explosive Style: C1!" Deidara shouted.

The clay birds detonated in a flash of light and heat, the explosion tearing through the clearing. Flames and smoke engulfed the area, sending shockwaves rippling outward.

The force of the blast threw Deidara backward, his body hitting the ground hard. He rolled to a stop, coughing and wincing as pain flared across his scorched arms and face. His clothes were in tatters, and blood trickled down from a cut on his temple.

But Deidara wasn't concerned about his injuries. His wide, frantic eyes were fixed on the smoldering cloud where Itachi had been.

"Konoha bastard…" he muttered through gritted teeth. "Don't tell me you died that easily…"

Deidara had promised earlier not to take Itachi's life, even if he won. But the intensity of the fight had pushed him to use his full power. The proximity of the explosion left little room for survival—even for a shinobi.

The smoke began to clear, revealing… nothing.

Deidara's breath hitched, his nerves fraying. His thoughts raced, half in disbelief and half in panic. Is he really gone? Did I… actually win?

"It's over."

The voice was calm and steady, cutting through Deidara's spiraling thoughts like a blade. His heart sank as he slowly turned around.

Itachi stood behind him, unharmed, his Sharingan glowing faintly in the dim light. His expression was as composed as ever, his dark eyes fixed on Deidara with an unsettling stillness.

Deidara staggered back, his mind reeling. "How…?" he muttered, barely able to speak. "That explosion—there's no way…"

"You were caught in a genjutsu before the fight even began," Itachi said, his voice as cold as the winter wind. "Your movements, your strategy, even the explosion—they were all illusions."

Deidara's body trembled with frustration and disbelief. "Damn it… You… You planned this from the start…"

Itachi's gaze never wavered. "A battle isn't about pride or brute force. It's about control and understanding your opponent. That's why you lost."

Deidara clenched his fists, his pride shattered but his fiery resolve still intact. "Damn you… Itachi Uchiha… I'll remember this."

Without another word, Deidara staggered away, his teammates watching the confrontation in silence.

Itachi, ever calm, turned back to rejoin Shikaku and Izumi, his focus already shifting to the next step in his mission.

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