Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Your fingertips brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear that hadn't yet fallen. "What I saw was the purest soul."

Xiao Nan felt a wave of dizziness. She opened her mouth to say something, but your thumb gently pressed her lips down.

"Shh...don't speak." Your forehead touches hers, and your breaths mingle together.

As you spoke, the white paper surrounding you suddenly froze for a moment, then surged toward Xiao Nan as if summoned.

The pieces of paper stuck to her skin one after another, yet they felt weightless, as if they had become part of her body.

Konan could feel her chakra resonating with these pieces of paper, and a strange sense of fullness rose from her limbs and bones.

"This is..." Xiao Nan looked at her arm in surprise as the white paper disappeared from her skin like snowflakes falling on hot iron.

“My chakra resonates with your paper jutsu,” you explained, your fingers slowly sliding down Konan’s arm until they intertwined. “In genjutsu, we can do things that are impossible in reality.”

"Why...why are you showing me this?" Xiao Nan finally found her voice, but it trembled slightly due to the emotional turmoil.

“Because in reality, we all have too many constraints.” You finally spoke, your voice low and gentle, “Everyone’s ideals, Xiao’s goals, their own hatreds and responsibilities, but here, it’s just you and me.”

"And..." A faint smile appeared on your lips, "I want to see what you would look like wearing a white kimono."

Before Konan could even comprehend the meaning of those words, she suddenly felt a strong surge of chakra.

The remaining white paper surged towards her body in an instant, forming a dazzling white light.

In that light, she saw that the Sharingan pattern in your eyes had changed, and the three tomoe had connected into a more complex shape.

As the light faded, Xiao Nan looked down at herself and involuntarily held her breath.

Her morning robe was gone, replaced by a pure white "Shiromuku" (white kimono).

—A traditional wedding dress.

The white robe, smooth as silk, was layered upon layered, with delicate, subtle patterns embroidered on the cuffs and hem, shimmering faintly in the light.

"This..." Xiao Nan's voice was almost inaudible.

You take a step back, admiring your masterpiece, your eyes gleaming with a complex light, a mixture of satisfaction and a barely perceptible sadness.

"Just as I thought," you said softly, "pure and flawless, beautiful to the point of being heartbreaking."

“Li Nu…” Xiao Nan took a step forward, her white kimono skirt swaying gently with her movements, like a white lotus blooming in the water.

(If it's an illusion...)

(Let me be immersed in this forever.)

She tilts her head back and kisses your lips.

Paper butterflies fluttered in the air; in the pure white world, only your intertwined breaths remained.

The storm of paper began to crumble, and white fragments scattered like withered petals. Xiao Nan felt her consciousness gradually fading, but your last words clearly reached her ears.

"Remember, no matter how cruel reality may be, this moment will always belong to us."

Darkness, absolute darkness.

You stand in the void, your three-tomoe Sharingan swirling warily. This is the first time you've entered someone else's mental world and yet feel so out of control. Usually, you are the master of illusions, able to change the world with a snap of your fingers.

But Rin Nohara's inner world is like a bottomless pool of stagnant water, rejecting any interference from outsiders.

“Interesting…” you murmured to yourself, your voice immediately swallowed by the darkness.

She tried to form hand seals, but her fingertips felt sluggish, as if they were sinking into viscous asphalt. This was not an ordinary illusion defense, but a mental fortress built by Lin's subconscious, locking her most vulnerable memories deep within a place that even the Sharingan could hardly reach.

A tiny glimmer of light suddenly appeared in the distance, like fishing lights on a night sea.

You squint, your nails digging unconsciously into your palms, your instincts warning you that this might be a trap, but some deeper impulse drives her toward the light source.

You want to see what kind of scenery is hidden in the heart of this girl who always smiles gently at you in the medical room.

The light spot gradually expands as you approach, eventually forming a rusty iron gate.

The moment your fingers touched the door knocker, a bone-chilling cold shot up your spine from your fingertips.

This is not merely a simulation of the mental world, but a reproduction of real memories—

The dark red stains on the door exuded an aura of rust and decay, and a nauseating sense of familiarity made your Sharingan spin wildly.

Inside the door was a cold, dark dungeon.

Thirteen-year-old Rin Nohara huddled in a corner, her thin body wrapped in a dirty medical vest.

Chains bearing the seal of a sealing technique were fastened around her ankles, and her bare arms were covered in needle marks. Your breath caught in your throat. This is the dungeon of Kirigakure, the place where Rin was supposed to die, the scene where Kakashi's Lightning Blade pierced her chest.

"Who...?" A childish voice trembled as Xiaolin raised her dirty face, her large brown eyes filled with fear. "Who are you?"

—The secret dungeon of Kirigakure, where Rin was imprisoned as the Three-Tails' Jinchūriki, but why is this scene frozen in the deepest part of Rin's spiritual world?

“A friend,” you heard yourself answer, your voice much softer than you had imagined.

You kneel on one knee and reach out your hand to Xiaolin, the wide sleeves of your robe hanging down onto the bloodstains on the ground.

Xiaolin didn't move. She just stared at you with the eyes of a wounded little animal, her lips trembling slightly. "Liar... Wuyin has no friends."

Just as your fingertips are about to touch Xiaolin's hair, the girl suddenly sprang up! That hand, which should have been weak and powerless, gripped your wrist with astonishing strength, and the light of the chakra scalpel drew a dangerous green line in the darkness.

"Gotcha, Tanuki-sama."

The child's voice suddenly transformed into the tone of adult Lin, sweet yet carrying a chilling pleasure.

The entire dungeon scene crumbled like a shattered mirror, and darkness once again enveloped everything.

You felt a sudden dizziness, and when your vision cleared again, you were pinned to the ground by Lin, the back of your head against the cold ground.

"Lin, you!"

"Shh..." Lin's index finger touched your lips, the light of the chakra scalpel illuminating half of her face.

That face, which always carried a gentle smile, now possessed a morbid beauty, its pupils dilated to almost fill the entire iris. "You know what? I've imagined this scene countless times."

Your Sharingan is rapidly scanning the current situation.

Rin's chakra was terribly disordered, like a ball of yarn with multiple emotions forcibly mixed together.

What will shock you most is that you are unable to dispel this illusion using conventional methods, unless you force a breakthrough, but that would damage Lin's spirit.

"Why pretend to be your past self?" you ask calmly.

Lin suddenly laughed. She leaned down, her nose almost touching yours, her warm breath carrying a faint smell of blood. "Because I wanted to know... if it were the Lin who had nothing, would you feel even more sorry for her?"

Her fingers slid down your carotid artery and circled your collarbone. "But there are too many people around you, like Konan-senpai and Mei Terumi-sama... I feel like I can never be your first."

A chakra scalpel is gently pressed against your throat, and a sharp energy blade slices through a thin line of blood, as thin as a hair.

"Release my chakra pathways." You try to use a commanding tone. "You know I can forcefully break through this illusion."

Lin suddenly laughed, loosened her grip, and then cupped your cheeks with her hands.

Countless fluorescent fragments of memory emerge from the darkness, all of them showing your figure: you improving ninjutsu in the training ground, you lazily resting your chin on your hand in a meeting, you creating chaos with genjutsu on the battlefield... In each fragment, Rin stands at the very edge, her gaze always following that black figure.

“Of course you can…” Lin’s thumb traced your eyelids, the touch like a venomous snake, “but that would hurt me… and Lord Tanuki hates hurting people who are important to you, doesn’t she?”

"Lin..." You suddenly changed tactics and took the initiative to wrap your arms around her waist.

You could feel Lin's muscles stiffen instantly. "You don't need to be the 'first'..."

The chakra scalpel was suddenly plunged into your shoulder. You bit your lip and swallowed your cry of pain. Blood spread along the red cloud pattern on your Akatsuki robe, turning an eerie purplish-black in the darkness.

"Then what am I to become?" Lin's voice trembled with tears, but her grip tightened even more cruelly. "The last one? The only one? Or perhaps..."

Her lips pressed against your bleeding wound, her tongue scooping away a drop of blood, "...just one of your many collections?"

Amidst the excruciating pain, your Sharingan finally detected a breakthrough.

Lin's mental world is not entirely flawless; the cracks between those fragments of memory are the most vulnerable points of connection.

You suddenly tilt your head back, your forehead colliding heavily with Lin's brow, "Become my 'special' one."

The darkness began to dissolve, turning into countless specks of light. Rin's chakra scalpel clattered to the ground. Her eyes widened, and tears finally burst forth.

"You...were awake that day?"

You didn't answer, but simply held the trembling Lin in your arms in that position.

You are swept away by a flood of memories, countless overlooked details flashing by like a revolving lantern: the special rations Lin secretly placed on your desk, the habit of always looking at you first during missions, even those "accidental" physical contacts...

"You're quite ill, Dr. Lin." You sighed softly, running your fingers through her brown hair.

Lin responded by burying her face deeper into the crook of your neck, her canines gently rubbing against the wound she had just inflicted, "Only you can heal..."

"Lord Tanuki..." Lin's voice trembled with tears, "Am I... terrible?"

You didn't answer immediately, but gently kissed Lin's scar, a gesture that suddenly illuminated the entire illusionary world with a soft blue light.

The darkness receded like the tide, replaced by the clear sky above the rooftop of Amegakure—the place where you first spoke alone.

“The problem is this world, not you.” You finally spoke, your fingers running through Lin’s short brown hair. “But next time you drag me into this darkness, I’ll consider charging you a price.”

Lin's face suddenly flushed red, her previous sickly demeanor vanishing completely. "Th-that is...!"

You pinched Lin's cheek with a mischievous grin, "What is it?"

The illusionary world is beginning to collapse, signifying that Lynn's consciousness is returning to reality.

At the last moment, you whispered something in Lin's ear, and Lin's ear tips instantly turned bright red, and she curled up like a boiled shrimp.

When you completely exit the illusion, in reality, Lin is fast asleep, lying on your lap with a suspicious smile on her lips.

You sighed softly, wiping away the tears from Rin's eyes with your fingertips, a complex emotion flashing in your Sharingan eyes.

Chapter 179 Stars

You lie on your back on the bed, your arms behind your head, staring blankly at the cracks in the ceiling.

(What a lively night...)

Gently press your hand against your chest; a faint, throbbing pain, not yours, comes from there.

"Stop pretending to be silent, say something to me?"

Only the ceaseless sound of rain from the Rain Village outside the window answers you. You turn over, your fingertips unconsciously drawing circles on the sheets.

—This was a custom during the Showa era.

"Then at least tell me..."

What is 'eternal sixteen'?

"For someone with facial paralysis, it's a strength," Showa finally spoke, his tone incredibly calm, "but for me, it's a curse."

"A curse? What does that mean?" You propped yourself up, your black hair slipping down your shoulders, showing a rare display of intense curiosity, your pupils dilating slightly in the darkness.

Another silence fell, followed by the distant cry of an owl, which made the night seem even deeper.

Just when you thought the conversation was about to end again, Showa's voice rang out once more, trembling unusually, "...Would you be interested in hearing my story?"

You lie back down, place your hands flat on your chest, and feel the heartbeat of that other heart that isn't yours. "It's an honor."

The moonlight was gradually obscured by the clouds, and the room fell into deeper darkness. Showa's voice seemed to come from a very far place, carrying the bitterness that comes with the passage of time.

(—Showa era first-person perspective)

On the day I was born, it rained blood.

The cherry blossoms in the Uchiha clan's territory withered overnight, and the Hannya mask in the clan temple cracked in two.

The high priest pointed to me, who was neither crying nor laughing in my swaddling clothes, and said, "This is the birth of the Right Chancellor, the beginning of calamity."

The father immediately pulled out the kunai.

The mother clung tightly to his arm, crying and shouting, "At least wait until she's weaned before throwing her into the forbidden area!"

This is the closest thing to "love" that I have received.

The moonlight in the forbidden area is blue.

Like rotting chakra, like frozen tears, I, at the age of five, huddled in the ruins of the shrine, gnawing on the moldy offerings.

The tribespeople would avoid me when they saw me, and the children would throw stones at me.

The stinky sweet smell reminded me of the tricolor dumplings that I had seen by chance eating by other children in the tribe before I was thrown in.

(Why can they?)

(Why can't I do it?)