"Well, isn't that dark," Mitsuki comments with his usual smile, seemingly unfazed by the grimness of the conversation.
Dad replies with a noncommittal "Hn," his eyes narrowing at Mitsuki's remark. "So, like I said before, Y/n, deactivate your Mangekyo now."
I turn my gaze back to Sarada, who has been frozen in the Genjutsu for about five minutes. I know that Dad and the others are watching, waiting for me to comply, but I have no intention of doing so.
"Y/n, deactivate yo—"
"I heard you. But I have to decline, Sasuke," I say, keeping my voice as indifferent as possible, hiding the hint of malice that threatens to break through.
"Do you want to lose your ey—"
"I know what I'm doing," I interrupt, unable to suppress the sadistic smile that curls my lips. "You're not my father, I don't need to listen to you."
Even without looking, I can sense Sasuke's disappointment at my words. His silence speaks volumes, and I can almost feel the tension tightening around us. The others are stunned by my defiance, but I don't care. I've gone too far to turn back now.
I see Sarada start to move, her muscles twitching as she breaks free from the Genjutsu. The onlookers are visibly shocked, their eyes wide as they realize what this means.
"You are not as bad as I thought," I say honestly as Sarada fully regains her composure. She's stronger than most give her credit for, but I can't let that distract me. I have a plan, and I can't let anyone interfere with it—not even Sasuke.
"I'll take that as a compliment, since it's coming from you," Sarada replies, her eyes half-lidded. She looks mentally exhausted from the Genjutsu, but there's still a fire in her gaze.
"Anytime," I say with a mocking smile, savoring her weariness.
"But now, let's get serious."
"I've been waiting for you to say that," I reply with a hint of malice, my Mangekyo Sharingan gleaming. "Even though I thought that was what we were doing this entire time."
Sarada's Sharingan blazes to life as she runs toward me, her Chidori crackling with electric intensity. I respond by activating my own Chidori, the air filling with the sound of lightning as we charge toward each other. The crowd gasps at the sight of two formidable techniques colliding head-on.
But as Sarada closes the distance, I teleport using the Rajin seal I placed on her earlier, appearing above her. Without hesitation, I smash my Chidori into the center of her back, the force of the attack driving her into the ground.
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Sarada avoids my attack by shifting ninety degrees to the right, barely dodging my Chidori. The impact of my missed strike shatters the ground, sending debris flying. We engage in a flurry of punches and kicks, each move countered with blocks and defensive maneuvers. But despite the intense exchange, I feel a growing sense of boredom—how could Sarada, with her inferior skill, command so much attention?
