Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Chapter 198 Take Care

Nohara Rin practically fell into your arms, the medical ninja's fingers gripping the Akatsuki robe tightly, her nails leaving crescent-shaped red marks on your back through the fabric.

You can smell the faint scent of disinfectant in Lin's hair, mixed with the salty taste of her tears. This girl, who always smiles as she changes the dressings of the wounded, is now crying and trembling all over.

"Let's be together when you come back..." Lin's voice broke in the wind, tears soaking your clothes, "That way... there will be no more separation."

Your hand hovered in mid-air, finally landing gently on Lin's trembling back. Through the thin ninja outfit, you could feel her rapid heartbeat, like a bird trapped in a cage.

"Your vitality is my greatest reward." You rested your chin on the top of Lin's head, your voice as soft as a dream, "Just stay here and provide support, don't... make me worry."

Lin froze. She knew you too well; those words meant you would never agree to let her go with you to that dangerous place.

Tears welled up again as Rin trembled as she removed her Konoha headband, the metal plate gleaming coldly in the dim light.

She tiptoed and carefully tied the headband to your left arm, her fingers tracing every scratch—a badge of honor for her years as a medical ninja.

"Take care, Lord Tanuki!" Lin forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

You recall that rainy evening many years ago when young Lin found you carrying an injured stray cat, and the two of them squatted under the eaves to bandage the kitten.

Back then, raindrops dripped down Lin's temples, yet her eyes shone brighter than the sunlight. Now, those eyes are filled with an overwhelming sadness.

You wanted to say something, but your throat felt like it was blocked by something, so you could only nod slightly, pressing the arm with Lin's headband to your chest, your beating heart carrying too many unspeakable promises.

Your gaze passed over Rin's shoulder and fell on Yahiko standing not far away.

The founder of this Akatsuki organization, once a spirited idealist, now resembles a stone statue eroded by wind and rain, his orange hair losing its former vibrancy in the mist.

I walked towards Yahiko step by step, my footsteps barely making a sound on the damp grass. With each step, memories surged forth: Yahiko's outstretched hand in the rain, the ideals he spoke of by the campfire, his upright figure even in defeat...

"If I die, the leader will be returned to you." You stopped, your voice so calm it didn't sound like you were discussing your own life or death.

Yahiko's pupils contracted sharply. He suddenly strode forward and pulled you into a tight embrace, so tight that it almost made your ribs ache.

“I don’t want the leader’s position,” Yahiko’s voice was terribly hoarse, “I just want you to be safe.”

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into this embrace.

Yahiko smelled of rain and rust, marks left by years of war. I remembered the first time I saw him many years ago, the boy standing on the high platform, passionately speaking about his ideals of peace. The sunlight gilded him, making him seem like a messenger sent by the gods.

"I really hope to see your dream come true," you said softly.

Yahiko tightened his grip. He had dreamed of using the Akatsuki organization to change this war-torn ninja world, and had vowed to create a peaceful world where everyone understood each other.

But now, at this moment, all his ideals have collapsed into a simple wish: that you, in his arms, can come back alive.

When Yahiko finally let go, Nagato's figure had already appeared at the boundary between the shadows.

The ripples of the Rinnegan glowed eerily in the dim light, like two bottomless wells. He was always the calmest one, but now he grabbed your wrist as if he had lost control.

Half a piece of moldy bread represents your first encounter, a memory that Nagato never mentioned.

"Come back alive." Nagato's voice was lower than usual, but his fingers lingered on his hand.

Only when Xiao Nan's paper butterfly landed on their clasped hands did he seem to wake from a dream and step back.

Xiao Nan didn't say anything; she simply placed a palm-sized blue paper crane in your palm.

When your chakra accidentally flows in, the paper crane unfolds into a torrent of countless miniature explosive tags, forming a protective shield in the air before returning to its original state. This is the essence of six hundred billion explosive tags, the culmination of Konan's life's work.

“I’ve improved them,” Xiao Nan finally spoke, “Now…they will only protect those they want to protect.”

Just as he was about to say something, he met those Sharingan eyes.

The afterglow of the setting sun slanted across the courtyard of the Uchiha clan's estate, turning the wooden corridors a warm orange-red.

You stand at the corner of the corridor, a gentle breeze brushing your hair, carrying a faint scent of cherry blossoms. You look down at your hands; your fingertips are clean, without blood or wounds, as if you were meant to be here.

A sound of a kunai breaking through the air came from not far away. Looking in the direction of the sound, two familiar figures were seen.

Uchiha Shisui stood in the center of the training field, holding a shuriken in his hand, while the young Uchiha Itachi stood opposite him, his dark eyes focused intently on the bullseye.

Their movements were clean and efficient, and every throw was incredibly precise, as if they had practiced it hundreds of times.

You unconsciously walk forward, your wooden clogs making a soft "rustling" sound as they step on the fallen leaves.

The two looked up at the same time. "...Who are you?" Shisui frowned slightly, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes.

After a moment of surprise, you realized that in this illusionary world, you were an "outsider."

You smiled gently, your eyes crinkling like a cunning cat. "I am Li Nu, please take care of me."

“Li Nu?” Zhi Shui’s pupils contracted slightly, and his brows furrowed even more. This name was like a key, gently prying open a dusty door deep in his memory.

He stared at your face, trying to find some familiar trace in your eyes and brows, but his thoughts were shrouded in fog, and he couldn't remember anything.

Itachi keenly sensed Shisui's unusual behavior, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two before finally settling on you.

"You...know Brother Zhishui?"

You tilted your head, your smile deepening. "Now that we know each other, don't we?"

Shisui paused for a moment, then suddenly spoke up: "Since you're here, why don't we train together?"

You readily agreed, "Okay!"

—And so, in the Uchiha courtyard at dusk, the figures of the three intertwined.

Your movements are fluid and natural, as if you are already familiar with the Uchiha clan's fighting style.

Moreover, their coordination with Shisui was almost perfect; the trajectories of the kunai intertwined in the air, and the sounds of the shuriken colliding were crisp and pleasant.

Itachi stood to the side, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. He had never seen Shisui so in sync with anyone before.

“Your movements…” Shisui murmured softly, “are very familiar.”

You turn your head to look at him, a slight smile playing on your lips. "Really?"

Shisui stared at you, trying to find the answer in your smile, but your eyes were too clear, as if they held an entire starry sky, making them unfathomable to him.

As the sun gradually sank below the horizon, the sky turned a deep purple. Suddenly, Itachi seemed to remember something and looked up at the sky.

"Sasuke should be out of school by now," he said softly, then nodded slightly to the two of them. "I'll head back now."

Before leaving, he looked at you deeply, as if trying to etch your image into his memory.

—Only you and Zhishui remain in the courtyard.

The two shadows were stretched long and intertwined on the ground, like some kind of unspeakable bond.

"...You and I seem to have met before." Shisui finally spoke, his voice low and gentle.

You didn't answer, but just threw your head back and laughed, the laughter unrestrained and joyful, as if you had finally unloaded some heavy shackles.

Your hair fluttered in the wind, making your smile even brighter.

Shisui stared blankly for a moment.

The next second, you suddenly stepped forward, grabbed his collar, stood on tiptoe, and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“I don’t believe you’ve forgotten me, little crow.”

"Little Crow".

These three words were like a sharp knife, instantly cleaving through the barrier of illusion.

Shizuku's pupils suddenly contracted, and his fingertips began to tremble uncontrollably.

The surrounding illusionary world began to collapse; the courtyard, the sunset, the cherry blossoms… everything faded, turning into a hazy gray mist.

“…From the very first time we met, Little Crow was your exclusive nickname.” Shisui’s voice was hoarse, carrying a certain suppressed emotion.

You were still smiling, but your figure was gradually becoming blurry.

Shisui's fingers twitched, and the Mangekyou Sharingan appeared in his eyes. He almost couldn't resist using Kotoamatsukami.

—If this illusion could last forever…

—If you could stay here forever…

In the end, he just reached out and tried to touch your face.

"Raccoon slave..."

However, his fingertips passed through the air.

—The illusion shattered completely.

—In the real world, Shisui suddenly opened her eyes, tears silently streaming down her face.

—And you stand before him, gently wiping away his tears, and whisper:

"Don't cry, little crow."

But this time, your voice was also choked with sobs.

The usually noisy immortal body was unusually quiet at this moment, and its red-purple eyes were churning with emotions you had never seen before.

As you approach Hidan, the clanging of metal chains suddenly stops, and he throws down the Bloodstained Three-Month Scythe from ten paces away.

The dull thud of a knee hitting the ground startled the crows on the eaves.

Hidan's kneeling posture resembled that of a devout worshipper at a shrine, but his upturned face carried an expression that a believer should never have.

He gripped the hem of your robe tightly, and black curse marks spread from your collar to your neck, rising and falling like a living thing with your rapid breathing.

"...Evil God...Master!"

Your fingertips landed on his brow, and the boy who always treated killing as a sacrifice trembled, the sweat seeping from his silver hair wetting your fingertips.

Slowly tracing his outline, from the corners of his eyes reddened with excitement, to his taut jawline, and finally stopping at the pulsating curse mark on his Adam's apple.

“Actually, I’ve been deceiving you all along,” you said softly. “I’m not some evil god at all.”

Hidan suddenly buried his face in your waist, his Akatsuki robe crumpled into hideous creases, and his muffled laughter came through the fabric.

“I know…” When he raised his face, the curse mark had already covered half of his cheek. “From the first time we met, Lord Evil God, you have been my only one.”

Chapter 199 Farewell

Your fingers froze for a moment. You weren't surprised that Hidan would say that, but you never expected that this seemingly madman would be the most stubborn believer.

Hidan's crimson eyes burned with a flame you couldn't understand. He roughly tore off a corner of your Akatsuki robe, the black fabric making a piercing sound as it ripped in his hands.

"I will be your eternal believer." Hidan wrapped the strip of cloth around his neck, his fingers trembling slightly as he tied the knot. The knot was crooked but unusually strong, just like his twisted yet unwavering loyalty.

You gently ruffled his messy silver hair one last time; the strands still carried the scent of blood and rust.

He didn't say goodbye, because the obsession in Hidan's eyes told you that this was not a farewell. In his distorted worldview, death was just another form of following.

Uchiha Itachi stood at the corner of the corridor, his black Akatsuki robe with red clouds almost blending into the shadows in the twilight.

He leaned against the damp wall, his Sharingan gleaming faintly in the darkness.

You stop in front of him, the two of you at just the right distance—close enough to see each other's reflections in their eyes, yet far enough not to touch.

The weasel's eyes suddenly transformed into a kaleidoscope pattern.

You feel a familiar dizziness, and the next second, you are standing by the lake in the world of Tsukuyomi.

Time flows much slower here than in reality; the lake is always as calm as a mirror, reflecting a non-existent full moon.

"You didn't have to use this technique." Your voice echoed slightly in the Tsukuyomi world.

Itachi didn't answer, he just reached out his hand to you.

You place your hand in his palm.

"Will you come back?" Itachi suddenly asked, his voice soft but unusually clear in this still world.

Your gaze passed over Itachi's shoulder and landed on the distant, illusory moon. "I don't know."

That's the truth. You don't know if you can bring Nagi back from that place, or even if you can get there alive.

Itachi's hand tightened slightly around your waist, then quickly loosened. As the Tsukuyomi world began to collapse, fragments fell like withered cherry blossoms.

In reality, Itachi has already turned and left, leaving only a receding figure.

There is a kunai in your palm, its blade sharpened to an exceptionally sharp edge, and a long black hair wrapped around its handle.

No farewell, no blessings—this was Itachi Uchiha's goodbye.

Kisame Hoshigaki leaned against the door frame of the tower, his Samehada sword casually stuck in the floor beside him.