Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

He slowly opened his eyes, then his breath hitched.

—In the shadows behind Yahiko, Itachi Uchiha stood quietly.

He wore the Akatsuki black robe as always, his face calm, as if he were just passing by. But in his scarlet Sharingan eyes, there was an undisguised gloom and love, his gaze fixed on your lips that were red from being kissed.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Yahiko noticed your stiffness, stepped back slightly, and turned around following your gaze—

"Yo, Itachi." He greeted lazily, his arm still wrapped around your waist. "What do you need?"

Itachi did not answer.

His gaze slowly moved from Yahiko's arm around you to your face, and the air seemed to freeze at that moment, heavy with oppression.

“Leader,” he suddenly addressed you respectfully, “your chakra is somewhat disordered. Would you like a medical ninja to take a look?”

This statement, while seemingly concerned, actually implies that he witnessed the entire event, including your confrontation with Madara and your subsequent intimacy with Yahiko.

Your cheeks flushed at the subtle provocation, but you quickly composed yourself.

"No need, thank you for your concern." Your voice was even calmer than I had expected.

Itachi nodded, turned and left. The hem of his black robe with red clouds drew an elegant arc in the air. His back was as straight as a pine tree, showing no sign of wavering, but you knew—those Sharingan eyes were still watching you from the shadows.

Only after Itachi's figure completely disappeared did Yahiko release his grip and instead cup your face in his hands. "He's been watching you for a long time."

This isn't a question; you can see Yahiko's displeasure from his taut jawline.

You sighed softly, your fingertips smoothing the wrinkles between his brows: "Itachi is just..."

"I admire you." Yahiko interrupted you abruptly, a rare hint of ferocity flashing in his eyes. "In the entire Akatsuki, no, in the entire ninja world, who isn't captivated by you?"

"Including you?" you ask half-jokingly, trying to ease the tension.

Yahiko didn't laugh. He leaned forward. "Yes, especially me..."

Before he could finish speaking, Konan's voice suddenly came from the end of the corridor, "Yahiko? Are you there? Nagato is waiting for you."

Yahiko closed his eyes briefly, seemingly trying to suppress his agitation. When he opened them again, he had returned to his usual sunny and cheerful self, though the heat in his eyes had not yet subsided.

“We’ll continue this topic later,” he whispered in your ear, the last word almost a whisper, “in my room.”

The night rain pattered softly. You stood in front of Yahiko's door, your fingertips hovering above the door, hesitant to fall.

They shouldn't have come.

But the way Ban looked so confident before he left was really infuriating, as if you had become a fox in his cage, and could only obediently wait for him to come back.

Tap your knuckles three times lightly.

The moment the door opened, Yahiko's eyes shone brightly in the candlelight. He stepped aside to make way, his orange hair falling over his shoulders, his yukata collar slightly open, and water droplets still clinging to his collarbone.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” He chuckled softly, his voice hoarser than usual.

As you step into the room, the aroma of tea mixed with the dampness of the rain hits you. Two cups of sake are placed on the tatami mat, and the flickering candlelight reflects the undercurrents in his eyes.

“With Ban gone,” you said casually, “I need to find something to do.”

Yahiko's fingertips brushed against your wrist as he took your discarded robe. "Like visiting a man's room late at night?"

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could retort, he leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear. "Just kidding."

—But as he stepped back, his lips brushed against your cheek almost imperceptibly.

......

When you push open your bedroom door, the lingering warmth of sake still remains on your fingertips.

The next second, your wrist is gripped tightly!

Madara's figure emerged from the darkness, his crimson Sharingan eyes bloodshot as if he hadn't slept in a long time. His clothes were disheveled, his red armor hung askew on his shoulder, and his black hair was still damp with unmelted night dew.

Before you could even speak, he pulled you into his arms.

His arm was so tight it hurt your ribs, his chin was pressed against the top of your head, and his breathing was heavy and deep. You could feel his heart pounding violently in his chest, like a person on the verge of collapse grabbing onto the last piece of driftwood.

(He found out.)

You suddenly realize.

The truth about Black Zetsu, the deception of the Eye of the Moon, decades of obsession all for naught... At this moment, Madara is not the invincible Asura, but just a man betrayed by his faith.

You sighed, gently ran your fingertips through his black hair, and ruffled it.

This action made Ban freeze, then he hugged you even tighter, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, and said in a muffled voice, "...Don't move."

You let him hold you, your palms slowly sliding down his spine, like soothing a wild beast.

His armor was cold, but the part that touched your palm gradually warmed up.

"Did you see Black Zetsu?" you asked softly.

Ban's breath hitched, then he sneered, "That thing..."

He didn't finish speaking, but tightened his grip on your arm even more, as if afraid you would disappear too. You felt pain, but for some reason, your heart softened for a moment.

"Is Yahiko's tea good?" he suddenly asked.

You were taken aback, then chuckled, "You were following me?"

“No need to follow.” Madara finally looked up, his Sharingan gleaming in the shadows. “You smell like him all over you.”

His fingertips touched the corner of your lips, the pressure a little too strong. "Here, he touched you again."

You slap his hand away, saying, "It's just drinking."

"Do you need to stand that close to drink?" Madara's voice trailed off, carrying a dangerous undertone. "His yukata sash is practically coming undone—"

“Uchiha Madara,” you interrupt him, “are you jealous, or are you picking a fight?”

Ban was silent for a moment, then suddenly pressed you against the door, his forehead against yours. "I'm thinking..."

"How can I make sure you never leave this room again?"

Chapter 188 - A Perilous Love (7)

Ban's arms wrapped around your waist like iron hoops, and with a little effort, he lifted you up and placed you on his lap.

The movement was so fluid, it was as if it had been practiced hundreds of times.

Your spine straightened instantly, and your fingers instinctively pressed against Ban's chest, but trembled slightly when they touched that cold, hard, impure body.

"What exactly do you want?" Your voice was lower and hoarse than expected. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your usual ease.

Ban didn't answer immediately. His gaze was like two clusters of eerie flames, burning your face inch by inch, from your furrowed brows to your trembling eyelashes, and finally settling on your tightly pursed lips.

This kind of gaze is so blatant that it gives you the illusion that all your pretenses have been stripped away.

"How do you think a man would treat the woman he loves?" His voice was deep and carried an undeniable sense of pressure.

"I don't want to know." You turned your face away, but were forced to turn back in Ban's suddenly tightening arms.

"...What did you do to me?" You tried to keep your voice calm. "Did you tamper with the curse seal?"

A dangerous smile curved Ban's lips as he gently pinched your chin with his fingers. "Do you think I need to use such methods to make you fall for me?"

His voice carried a hint of mockery, yet also contained a subtle, almost imperceptible, pleasure.

Ban pinched the back of your neck with just the right amount of force, making it impossible for you to break free without actually hurting you.

This action evokes the image of a wild beast grabbing its mate by the scruff of the neck, sending chills down your spine.

You tried to push Ban away by placing your hands on his shoulders, but he held your waist firmly with his other hand.

The freckled lips traced the line of your neck, each kiss so light it was almost ethereal, yet more unsettling than any forceful possession.

It was a symbol imbued with a sense of ritual, as if silently declaring ownership.

“It’s alright,” Ban’s voice was muffled by the friction of their lips against each other, “we should do something lovers do.”

"Hey! Isn't this a bit too fast?!" You finally found your voice, but your tone was inexplicably lacking in confidence.

Ban paused, stepped back slightly, and the patterns in his Rinnegan slowly rotated. After a moment, he suddenly laughed, a laugh that sent chills down your spine.

"So you like things to go slower." Madara's voice rose slightly at the end, carrying a hint of ambiguous meaning.

Your mind went blank for a second before you realized the double entendre in his words.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you bet your face is now as red as a ripe tomato.

This reaction was too girlish and completely inconsistent with his usual composed image, and the smugness that flashed in Madara's eyes only added fuel to the fire.

"That's not what I meant!" you angrily retorted, but your words were abruptly cut short by Ban's sudden action.

Suddenly, Madara pushed you down onto the tatami mat, your back sinking into the soft cushions. Madara's arms were propped up beside his ears as he looked down at you, his black hair falling down and getting tangled with yours.

Ban's fingers gently stroked your cheek, then slid down your neck, finally stopping on your collarbone. His fingertips applied slight pressure, as if measuring every inch of your skin.

Your breathing quickens. You never imagined that one day you would be stared at like that, like a beast eyeing its prey, or like a believer gazing at a deity.

"Madara..." you call his name subconsciously, your voice so soft it's almost inaudible.

Ban's eyes darkened further. He leaned down, his lips almost touching your earlobe, his deep voice seductive, "Call my name, louder."

Your fingertips dug deep into the mattress beneath you, and your heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

The loud crash of the door shattering tore apart the ambiguous atmosphere inside.

Wood shavings flew like snowflakes, a few brushing against your cheeks and leaving a slight sting.

Madara's movements suddenly stopped. He slowly raised his head, his scarlet Rinnegan eyes surging with savage killing intent.

"You wicked woman! Have you forgotten your promise to be with me—"

Deidara's voice abruptly stopped, the air froze instantly, as if even time itself had stopped flowing.

Looking up from above Madara's shoulder, you see Deidara standing frozen in the doorway, his golden ponytail still swaying slightly from the violent movement.

He was holding a familiar chibi-style clay figurine in his right hand—the miniature dinosaur you casually complimented last week. You never expected Deidara to actually make it.

The doll was now unconsciously squeezed out of shape, its head tilted comically.

His expression shifted from shock to anger, finally settling on a twisted jealousy, his blue pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

"...What are you doing? Huh?!"

You were momentarily at a loss for words to explain the situation. Madara was half-pressed on top of you, his robes wide open, and your kimono sash was half-loosened, lying messily on the bed.

Madara sneered, his fingers still casually tracing circles on your collarbone, but his eyes were dangerously sharp, as if he were about to crush Deidara at any moment. "Get out."

"You're the one who should get lost! Huh!" Deidara practically roared, his golden bangs whipping around with his excited movements, revealing the bulging veins on his forehead.

Madara's eyes turned completely cold. He slowly straightened up, the ripples in his Rinnegan swirling, and the chakra around him surged so violently it almost distorted the air. "Kid, you're asking for death?"

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and grabbed Ban's sleeve, your voice laced with warning, "Madara!"

Ban looked down at her, his eyes gloomy. "What, are you going to protect him?"

You take a deep breath, about to speak, when Deidara completely explodes, "Who needs her protection! Huh!"

He blew a sharp breath, and the clay bird instantly expanded to its limit, on the verge of exploding—

Space suddenly distorted, and Obito's figure appeared out of thin air. He grabbed Deidara by the back of his collar and dragged him into the Kamui dimension.

"Damn it! Let me go! Ugh!" Deidara's voice faded into the blurring space, leaving only Obito's rebuke, "Stop messing around, do you want to blow up the whole base?"

The room fell silent again. You breathed a sigh of relief and were about to get out of bed when Ban suddenly leaned over and pinned you down again. "Now, no one will bother you."

Ban stared at you for a few seconds, then suddenly lowered his head and bit your neck hard, so hard that it almost left a bruise.

You let out a soft groan of pain, your fingers instinctively grabbing his black hair.

"You are mine." Ban's voice was hoarse beyond recognition. "Whoever touches you, I will kill them."

You closed your eyes, gently stroking his cheek with your fingertips, your voice as soft as a sigh, "You know perfectly well... I've never belonged to anyone."

"Then let's give it a try." He chuckled softly, running his fingers through your hair. "Let's see if you can escape."

Just as you were about to retort, footsteps sounded outside the door again. "Lord Tanuki! I made red bean soup, would you like some—" Nohara Rin's voice abruptly stopped.

you:"......"

spot:"......"

Lin stood at the door, the red bean soup in her hand fell to the ground with a "plop," her pupils reflected an eerie light, and a twisted smile slowly curled up at the corner of her mouth.