Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

"You're done."

The illusion suddenly distorted in the next second!

Yahiko stood there, the lingering sensation of the illusion still on his fingertips. "Next time..."

"How about trying one without illusions?"

You grabbed the teacup next to you and threw it.

When Nagato opened his eyes, he saw the top of the tower. You were sitting on the edge of the broken stone railing, your slender legs dangling gently in the air a hundred meters above the ground.

Your blood-red Sharingan reflected Nagato's face, twisted with rage.

"Tell me, what exactly is going on with these Rinnegan?" Nagato's voice seemed to come from a great distance, trembling with suppressed emotion.

You tilt your head slightly, and the cold, damp raindrops slide down your porcelain-white cheeks, indistinguishable from rainwater or tears.

As you gaze at Nagato's Rinnegan, which glows with an eerie purple light, a barely perceptible pain flashes in your eyes.

“I was thinking,” you said, your voice barely audible in the rain, “that what if someone suddenly gets angry?”

Nagato's figure flashed to your side in an instant, the damp hem of his robe brushing against your bare calves.

He reached out and gripped your slender wrist with such force that he almost crushed your bones. "No," he promised through gritted teeth, the swirling patterns in his purple Rinnegan spinning wildly.

You winced in pain, but a faint, bitter smile appeared on your face. You raised your other hand and casually draped your wet arm over Nagato's shoulder. This perfectly natural movement made him freeze for a moment.

"Then I'll reluctantly tell you." You leaned close to Nagato's ear, your warm breath brushing against his cool earlobe. "Your Rinnegan comes from Madara; you're just part of his plan."

Nagato's pupils suddenly contracted, and the whole world seemed to freeze at that moment.

Raindrops hung suspended in mid-air, the wind stopped abruptly, and only your calm, almost cruel words echoed in my ears.

"Madara?" he murmured, repeating the name, suddenly remembering the taboo name you mentioned when you first appeared before him, Yahiko, and Konan many years ago.

“No! I’m from Madara! Wherever he is, I will be there!” You said that at the time, your eyes flashing with a complex light that they couldn’t understand.

Memories pierce your heart like a sharp blade, and Nagato suddenly throws you down onto the cold stone surface.

Your head slammed heavily against the ground, and a thin stream of crimson blood seeped from your black hair, spreading into a bewitching flower in the rain.

"So!" Nagato's voice was hoarse with rage, "The strange look in my eyes, my usual natural dependence, and that kiss last time—were all because of him?!"

He gripped your slender neck, watching your face flush red from lack of oxygen, yet he couldn't find a trace of fear in those still calm Sharingan eyes.

“Don’t forget,” you managed to squeeze out, a defiant smile playing on your lips, “you just said you wouldn’t get angry.”

Nagato let out a maniacal laugh that echoed across the empty tower top, more heartbreaking than the never-ending rain of Amegakure.

"I thought you had feelings for me, but I never expected you to see me as a vessel for Madara Uchiha's eyes!" He leaned down. "When you look at me, are you thinking, 'Why am I not Madara Uchiha?'?"

A flicker of emotion finally crossed your eyes as you struggled to push Nagato away, but the pressure of the Rinnegan held you firmly in place like a massive boulder.

“No,” you gasped, “you are you, he is him, and you are both the most important people to me!”

"Are you lying to me again?" Nagato's voice suddenly lowered, carrying a chilling tenderness. "Aren't you happy to see me so crazy for you, Tanuki?"

He suddenly ripped open your collar, revealing your fair shoulder, and then bit down hard.

"Ouch!" you cried out in pain as warm blood flowed down your collarbone, mixing with the rain to turn pink.

Nagato's teeth are deeply embedded in your flesh, as if he wants to take back all the love and hate.

"Tell the truth, why don't you believe me!" You pushed against Nagato's chest with all your might, your fingernails leaving bloody marks on his pale skin, but the Rinnegan user didn't budge, only holding you tighter in his arms.

The rain intensified, soaking your clothes and long hair, blurring your entangled figures into one. Nagato finally relented, and when he raised his head, your blood was still on his lips.

He gazed at the woman's pained yet defiant face beneath him, and suddenly remembered that moonlit night when she took the initiative to kiss his lips, her eyes filled with what he mistook for love.

"That night," Nagato's voice was hoarse, "who were you thinking of when you kissed me?"

Your eyelashes trembled slightly, and raindrops dripped down them like silent tears. "I'm thinking of you, only you."

Nagato sneered, his fingers tracing the bleeding bite mark on you. "Prove it to me."

A flicker of hesitation crossed your eyes, but it was quickly replaced by resolve. You raised your hand and gently traced the Rinnegan pattern beneath Nagato's eyes with your fingertips.

“I know these eyes don’t belong to you,” you whispered, “but I’ve always been looking at Nagato, only Nagato.”

Your fingertips slide down, tracing the taut jawline of Nagato, finally stopping at the throbbing carotid artery.

"I could kill you anytime, anywhere, and return these eyes to Ban," you whispered. "But I didn't. Do you know why?"

Nagato's breathing became rapid, and the patterns in his Rinnegan spun even faster. "Why?" he asked almost pleadingly.

"because--"

The illusion faded like a thin veil, and Nagato suddenly opened his eyes. The purple vortex in his Rinnegan was still slowly rotating. His pale fingertips dug deeply into his palms, and the blood that seeped out left crescent-shaped marks on his skin.

"Li Nu..." he called out hoarsely, his voice filled with lingering anger and a deeper longing that even he himself was unwilling to admit.

"What, you don't want to wake up?" You winked playfully, your eyelashes casting butterfly-wing-like shadows on your pale cheeks.

Nagato's Adam's apple bobbed. He wanted to grab this woman who always walked on the edge of danger, to tear away her nonchalant facade, and to hear her finish the sentence that had been interrupted.

He watched your departing figure, the wide robe unable to conceal the swaying of your slender waist.

Suddenly, I remembered your arm draped over his shoulder in the illusion, the touch of your warm breath brushing against my ear, and the bloodstains on your collarbone where he bit you.

"Damn it..." Nagato slammed his fist against the wall, sending pebbles tumbling down.

Hidan, in the illusion, carried the Bloodstained Three-Moon Scythe and walked at the front of the group, his silver hair flowing like moonlight in the firelight.

He would turn back every ten steps, his purplish-red eyes flashing with unease and fanaticism.

"Lord Jashin! Are you still there?" Hidan turned around for the third time to confirm, his voice filled with childlike anxiety.

You leaned lazily against the black carriage, the wide sleeves of your dark red kimono hanging down on either side of the carriage shaft. A strand of black hair was twirled around your fingertips, and your blood-red Sharingan was half-closed. You seemed both helpless and indulgent towards Hidan's excessive tension.

"Where can I go?" you sighed softly, your voice as light as a feather. "Focus on leading the way, Hidan."

Hidan pursed his lips, his scythe slicing irritably across the ground. Why is it that everyone else in the organization always acts so ambiguous around you?

But when it comes to him, the style becomes so... serious.

"Lord Jashin!" Hidan suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Where are we going?"

You raised your eyes, a faint smile playing on your lips, "Go to the place where the evil god is summoned."

Hidan's heart sank. It was that same businesslike attitude again! He gave a muffled "Oh," turned around, and continued leading the way, his steps heavy as if filled with lead.

Behind him in the carriage, your gaze seemed to tangibly linger on his back, making him both anxious and excited.

When the group arrived at the eerie black stone temple, Hidan's eyes suddenly lit up.

He leaped up the steps in two quick steps, grabbed a writing brush covered in cinnabar from beside the altar, and presented it to you like a precious treasure.

"Lord Jashin! The ritual requires drawing incantations!" Hidan's voice trembled slightly with excitement. "Please draw them all over my body!"

You took the brush, raised one eyebrow, and asked, "The whole body?"

Hidan's face flushed red, but he quickly straightened his back and explained confidently, "Of course! The most perfect ritual requires the most complete runes! That's what it says in Chapter 5 of Volume 3 of the Jashin Cult's classic texts!"

—Yeah, right, he just made that up.

Before you could respond, Hidan grabbed your wrist and dragged you toward the spiral staircase deep inside the stone hall.

"The basement has the best place for sacrificial rites!" His voice echoed in the narrow passageway. "I prepared it especially for you!"

You were pulled along, staggering, the hem of your kimono brushing against the damp stone steps. When you were dragged into the basement, you were stunned. The room was filled with huge mirrors on all four walls, and a black stone table was placed in the center, surrounded by blood-red candles.

This arrangement is less like a sacrificial site and more like...

"Come on! Lord Jashin!" Hidan had already nimbly taken off his shirt and lay flat on the stone platform, his silver hair spreading out like a blanket woven from moonlight. "Don't hold back!"

Your lips twitched involuntarily. You slowly approached the stone platform, the brush twirling deftly between your fingers. "Are you sure this is a proper ritual?"

“Absolutely true!” Hidan nodded confidently, but a sly glint flashed in his crimson eyes. “The more intricate the runes, the better the ritual’s effect! It’s best to start drawing them from the chest!”

You sighed, knelt down by the stone platform, and as you leaned forward, your black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, the ends of which gently brushed against Hidan's bare chest.

With the tip of the brush dipped in vermilion, the first stroke landed on Hidan's chest.

"Hmm..." Hidan let out an exaggerated groan, his body trembling slightly, "The Jashin-sama's brushstrokes... are too divine..."

Your hand paused, and you glanced at him helplessly. "Quiet, or I'll just draw the arms."

Hidan immediately pursed his lips, but his eyes were still incredibly bright as he greedily stared at Hidan's focused profile through the mirrors around him.

With her drooping eyelashes, slightly pursed lips, and collarbone faintly visible through the neckline of her kimono, Hidan's breathing became increasingly rapid as the brush slowly moved downwards.

"I...I...stop...doing it!" he roared, each word distinct, his red eyes burning with rebellious fire.

"Are you tampering with God's will?"

"It was clearly the evil god who applied double standards first—uh!" His protest was silenced by your lips.

The kiss tasted of rust; Hidan had just bitten his tongue, and your fingertips were piercing his silver hair. The Jashin curse mark burned beneath your pressed skin.

When they parted, silver threads were tethered to beads of blood, and Hidan's expression was one of utter grievance.

"Are you satisfied now?" You poked the bulging curse mark on his collarbone, watching as this usually eccentric believer turned his face away, his ears turning bright red.

"...Next time I'll use even more outrageous illusions!"

"For example, you chain me up while you conduct a ceremony! Hmm!"

The moment his fingertips touched the hem of your kimono, the whole world shattered like a mirror.

In the real world, Hidan suddenly awoke from the illusion, slamming his forehead heavily against the stone table in front of him. In Akatsuki's conference room, everyone's eyes were on him.

Chapter 178 - White Kimono

The paper scraps fell like snowflakes, only to be swept up by an invisible current just before they hit the ground, and then flowed back into the huge white vortex.

Xiao Nan stood in the eye of the storm, her bluish-purple hair tossed by the air currents, gently brushing against her slightly pale cheeks.

She stretched out her hand, and a piece of white paper landed in her palm, cool and soft, with a faint scent of ink.

"What the hell is this..."

"A sky full of white paper, doesn't it look like a romantic funeral?"

(This is clearly...)

The voice came from outside the storm, clear and cool yet carrying a hint of barely perceptible gentleness.

Xiao Nan looked up and saw you standing on the other side of the paper tornado, your black hair flowing like a waterfall, and your scarlet Sharingan standing out conspicuously in the white storm.

You are wearing the same morning robe as her, the hem fluttering, yet you are not affected by the gale at all, as if you are in another time and space.

Xiao Nan's heart skipped a beat. She knew she was under an illusion, but at that moment, she didn't want to break free.

How many times? During missions, at gatherings, in those quiet, dark nights, she watched your back, burying that inappropriate feeling deep beneath the mask of the paper angel.

"Li Nu..." Xiao Nan called softly, her voice almost drowned out by the rustling sound of paper scraping together.

But you heard it, and you smiled slightly, a smile like a crack suddenly appearing on the surface of a frozen lake, allowing Xiao Nan to see the undercurrents surging beneath. You reached out your hand to her, your five fingers long and slender.

"Come here." You only said one word.

Xiao Nan felt a surge of heat flowing from her chest to her limbs. Reason told her it was an illusion, a falsehood, but her emotions, like a burst dam, overwhelmed the defenses she had built up over the years.

She started walking, then running, and finally almost threw herself into your arms.

The pieces of paper danced wildly around her, yet miraculously, not a single one blocked her path. They seemed to have come to life, making way for her run.

Xiao Nan could feel her heart pounding like a drum, her breathing becoming rapid, and her cheeks burning. These physiological reactions were so real that she almost forgot it was just an illusion.

As her body crashes into your arms, a faint scent of mint fills your nostrils.

Your arms were as strong as she had imagined, holding her tightly. The rough fabric of your robes rubbed against each other's skin, yet Xiao Nan felt a sense of security she had never felt before.

"I have been waiting for you."

Xiao Nan wanted to say something, but found her throat too dry to make a sound.

She could only hold you tighter, burying her face in the crook of your neck, greedily inhaling your scent. Your skin was slightly cool, but gradually warmed up under Xiao Nan's touch.

The storm of paper reached its peak at this moment, with countless sheets of white paper rotating around you, forming a perfect spherical space.

Konan looked up and found you staring at her, the three tomoe in your Sharingan eyes slowly turning, as if trying to draw her soul into them.

"Look..." you whispered in her ear, your warm breath brushing against her earlobe.

"You showed me..." Xiao Nan's voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, "...the most unbearable part of my past..."