Kakashi's heart pounded in his chest as he took in the horrifying sight. Sasori, calm and collected, was holding Naruto's severed head with one hand, her sapphire eyes dim and lifeless. Her headless body lay motionless on the ice, her once pristine white skin now marred by the dark stains of ink and battle. Sasori's other hand was busy at her abdomen, his deft fingers carefully working on a seal.
The sight made Kakashi feel sick. He knew exactly what Sasori was doing—ensuring the Kyuubi didn't escape, trapping it in a prison of his own making. The cruel efficiency of it was almost too much to bear.
He gritted his teeth, his vision narrowing as guilt clawed at his chest. 'I failed again. Just like with Dad. Obito. Rin. Sensei. And now Naruto... Sensei's daughter.'
Kakashi's grip on his kunai tightened as he turned his attention back to the ice-wielding shinobi in front of him. The man was skilled, but Kakashi was done playing games. In a blur of movement, he closed the distance, delivering a swift and precise taijutsu strike that sent the ice shinobi crashing to the ground.
Nearby, Sasuke was frozen in place, his Sharingan eyes locked on the grisly scene. Naruto's… head. Her body, discarded like a broken doll. He clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions: shock, rage, disbelief.
'She's gone… Just like that? That annoying idiot… gone?'
A sharp, searing pain ripped through his eyes as his rage and sorrow reached their peak. His vision shifted, the Sharingan evolving as a kaleidoscopic pattern burned itself into his retinas.
"Flame Control..." he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The fat shinobi he had been fighting didn't even have time to react before he was consumed by red flames. The flames spread like wildfire, reducing the man to ashes in moments. Sasuke didn't care; his focus was on one thing now—Sasori.
Meanwhile, Lee was struggling against the ice kunoichi. His movements, usually so precise and controlled, had faltered. He was distracted, his thoughts consumed by the loss of his teammate. That brief lapse was all the kunoichi needed. She wove a series of hand signs, and Lee's body went rigid as she trapped him in an illusion.
"Lee!" Sakura's voice rang out as she appeared behind the kunoichi, her expression hardened with determination. Without hesitation, she delivered a powerful punch that sent the woman flying, her body skidding across the ice before coming to a stop.
Sakura's victory was short-lived. Her eyes drifted to the center of the battlefield, to where Sasori stood, hunched over Naruto's body.
'Her body…'
Sakura's breath hitched. She forced herself to look away, tears welling in her eyes. The image of her teammate—her friend—being reduced to nothing more than a lifeless husk was too much.
Kakashi, Sasuke, and Sakura all felt the weight of their failure pressing down on them. But none of them were ready to give up. Not yet.
Sasori glanced up from his work, his expression unreadable as he noticed the renewed fury in his opponents' eyes. "You're too late," he said calmly, his voice carrying over the icy battlefield. "She's already gone."
But none of them believed him. Naruto wouldn't give up. Not like this.
Soon, Kakashi, Sasuke, and Sakura were gasping for breath, their bodies battered and bruised as Sasori's endless army of puppets kept them pinned. Each puppet was uniquely deadly, wielding chakra natures that forced the trio to stay on constant defence. Kakashi was barely holding off a lightning-infused puppet with his kunai, his Sharingan spinning frantically as he anticipated each strike. Sasuke's newly awakened Mangekyō Sharingan burned brightly as he unleashed fire jutsu on another puppet, though the effort was visibly draining him. Sakura's fists shook as she smashed through one puppet, only to find another taking its place.
Yukie Fujikaze stood at a distance, her face pale as she clutched her chest. Her trembling hands were clasped together as if in prayer, trying not to let the tears spilling from her eyes distract the others. The director, somehow unfazed by the carnage, was still filming, his camera trained on the horrifying sight of Sasori.
The puppet master stood in the middle of the battlefield, calm as ever, the chaos around him seeming almost beneath his notice. In his hand, he jiggled Naruto's severed head, letting it sway grotesquely back and forth. "Look at this," he called out, his voice dripping with mockery. "Your so-called hero, the invincible Naruto Uzumaki! A broken doll, reduced to nothing but spare parts!"
He turned slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched the exhaustion and despair etched onto the Leaf Shinobi's faces. "What's the matter? Too tired to come save your comrade? Or maybe you're just too weak?"
Sakura gritted her teeth, her fists clenched so hard her nails dug into her palms. "Put her down!" she screamed, her voice cracking.
Sasori chuckled, ignoring her as he cradled Naruto's headless body in one arm and her head in the other. The juxtaposition was horrifying—her limp body and lifeless face seemed almost serene in contrast to the bloodstained battlefield.
"You're all so pathetic," Sasori continued, his voice laced with derision. "She trusted you to have her back, and this is the result? Bravo. Truly commendable teamwork."
Sasuke growled, stumbling to his feet, his Mangekyō blazing with renewed fury. "You won't leave here alive," he spat, his voice hoarse. But his legs wobbled, his chakra reserves nearly depleted.
Sasori didn't even glance back. "Save your threats for someone who cares," he said dismissively. "I've got what I came for."
And with that, he began to walk away, his puppets closing ranks to cover his retreat. The snow crunched beneath his feet as he carried Naruto's body and head, his crimson cloak fluttering in the icy wind.