Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

The flickering torches on the stone wall cast his shadow long and short, mirroring his restless state of mind.

The air was filled with the scents of old wood, ink, and a faint, almost imperceptible stench of blood—the marks left by years of hawkish meetings.

But today, there was an even more subtle atmosphere mixed in, one that made his heart pound wildly.

It's her chakra.

Faint and restrained, yet like the most precise kunai, it pierced through all his defenses in an instant.

He practically kicked open the heavy sandalwood door of the secret chamber, the sound startling all the elders inside, who were dressed in dark clan robes and wore hawkish insignia.

Sharp, dissatisfied, or surprised gazes were cast upon him, the young clan leader.

But his gaze, like iron filings drawn to a magnet, was fixed on the person at the second seat of the conference table.

She wore the dark blue ninja uniform typical of core members of the hawk faction, with the collar neatly tied, outlining her slender yet upright neck.

Her long black hair was neatly tied back, revealing her smooth forehead and a pair of indifferent, almost icy black eyes.

She looked up at the sound and saw him burst in. Her eyes were expressionless; she simply nodded slightly and bowed in a formulaic, even rigid, voice, "Young Clan Chief."

The three words, like three icicles, pierced Ban's heart.

It wasn't the "Madara" he was familiar with, or even the "Uchiha Madara" when he was angry; it was just the cold, distant "young clan leader" who represented a superior-subordinate relationship.

His fingertips trembled uncontrollably, and his blood surged and roared in his eardrums, almost overwhelming all reason.

It was her, alive and breathing, right there within reach!

What Tsukuyomi, what Infinite Tsukuyomi, what Kaguya—all were instantly overwhelmed by this immense ecstasy!

He suddenly stepped forward and, under the astonished gazes of all the elders, grabbed Uchiha Nagi's wrist.

Her wrists were slender and her skin was cool. When his hot fingers grasped them, she stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment.

"Young clan leader?" She tried to pull her hand back, her tone carrying a hint of genuine doubt and wariness.

Ban ignored her completely. He used tremendous force, almost violently, to pull her up from her seat and drag her out of the secret room, disregarding the shouts and cries that erupted behind him.

Just as they rushed out of the secret room and into the shadows of the deserted corridor, Ban suddenly turned around and slammed her hard against the cold stone wall.

Before she could react, a burning, desperate kiss rained down on her.

It wasn't a gentle, tender embrace, but rather a tearing and invading act, like a suffocating person grasping at the air, a bloody madness.

"Anagi...Anagi..." he murmured hoarsely over and over again, his arms binding her struggling body like iron hoops. "I miss you so much...I miss you so much..."

The body in his arms stiffened and resisted. Nagi forcefully turned her head to avoid his storm of kisses. Her breathing became rapid, and her eyes were no longer completely indifferent, but were tinged with shock, anger, and a trace of... humiliation.

"Let go! Young clan leader, you—"

"Slap!" A crisp slap interrupted his rambling and brought his frantic movements to an abrupt halt.

Taking advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration, Nagi forcefully pushed him away, pressed her back against the wall, and stared at him warily, her chest rising and falling slightly, her meticulously styled hair falling messily down her cheeks.

Her cheeks were flushed with anger and from the struggle, but her eyes were as cold as ice.

"Young Clan Chief, please have some self-respect." She spoke each word clearly, her voice filled with suppressed anger, "I am the Clan Chief's subordinate, not someone you can treat with such disrespect!"

"No!" Ban's low growl echoed in the corridor, carrying a near-collapse-like obsession, "You are mine! You can only be mine!"

He stepped forward again, ignoring her punches and kicks and her attempts to form hand seals, and with an almost savage force, lifted her up by the waist and carried her on his shoulder.

The world spun before his eyes, a web of ecstasy and terror intertwined.

"Let me go! Uchiha Madara! Are you crazy!" Nagi struggled on his shoulder, her nails scratching the skin on the back of his neck, causing a stinging pain, but making him even more certain that this was not a dream.

He kicked open the door to an unused Japanese-style room next door, threw her onto a tatami mat covered with a thin mattress, and then pressed his heavy body down on her, imprisoning all her resistance within a small space.

"You are my wife..." he gasped, his burning lips landing on her neck, greedily inhaling her familiar yet strange scent, his voice hoarse and broken with desire, "the mother of my child..."

He closed his eyes, refusing to think about anything illogical, wanting only to confirm her existence in the most primal way, to fill the deep longing and emptiness.

"Young clan leader! Something's not right! You've mistaken me for someone else!" Nagi's voice trembled with fear; his words and actions filled her with inexplicable dread and absurdity.

Her denial was sealed by his kiss, a kiss that was still urgent, yet carried a hint of pleading.

"Anagi...call my name..." He pressed his lips against hers, stubbornly demanding, a deep, almost overwhelming storm of emotion surging within his Rinnegan. "Call me Madara..."

Nagi looked at the man on top of her. His handsome face was contorted with intense emotion. Those eyes, said to bring calamity, were now filled not with destruction, but with an intense, suffocating, almost maddening pain...

She couldn't understand it, but the immense sorrow and despair surged over her like a tide, inexplicably slowing her struggling movements.

Perhaps we should try to calm him down first?

“...Madara.” She tentatively and awkwardly uttered the name.

The simple three syllables, like the most magical incantation, instantly soothed all of Ban's mania.

His body stiffened, then an overwhelming, almost tearful sense of relief overwhelmed him. He rubbed his cheek affectionately against hers, like a wild beast that had been soothed.

"Anagi... my Anagi..." he murmured, his fingers trembling as he unbuttoned her tightly fastened clothes, eager to touch more warmth and confirm the reality of this lost and regained love.

Chapter 205 Redemption in Tsukuyomi (3)

The cool air touched her skin, and Nagi woke up with a start, fear gripping her once more.

"No! No! Let go!" She struggled violently, and tears finally streamed down her face uncontrollably, not because of the physical restraint, but because of the humiliation and fear of being completely used as someone else's substitute.

Ban paused, looking at the tears in the corners of her eyes, bewildered and helpless.

He reached out and gently wiped away the cold dampness, his voice filled with genuine bewilderment, "Why are you crying? Nagi...we're husband and wife, this is all only natural..."

These words completely devastated Nagi.

She stopped struggling and looked at him with an almost astonished, mad-looking gaze. Her voice was soft yet clear, like the gavel of a final judgment, "I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

You mistook me for someone else...

It's not his Nagi...

Not his wife...

She is not the mother of his child...

But... they mistook someone for someone else...

"boom--!"

All the joy, elation, and self-deception vanished in the face of this one sentence, like glass struck by a fireball, instantly shattering into dust.

This world is fake.

The Uchiha Nagi who would give him the cold shoulder, slap him, and cry in fear at his touch... is fake.

His Nagi would look at him with that helpless yet indulgent gaze, would shield him from fatal attacks on the battlefield, would gently call "Madara" to his face in his moments of madness and obsession, and would still smile at him even in his most painful moments...

His Nagi... is dead.

To save that broken world, to protect those ridiculous people, she turned into specks of light and vanished in his arms.

How could he... how could he be so foolish as to be deceived by such a clumsy illusion? How could he be so pathetic as to try to find solace in this false reflection?

Intense pain swept over him like a tsunami, instantly shattering his mental defenses. Ban was jolted off her, staggering back several steps until his back slammed heavily against the cold wall before he stopped.

He looked at her, and the phantom hurriedly pulled her clothes together, curled up, and looked at him with a wary yet slightly confused gaze, as if looking at an incomprehensible madwoman.

Yeah, a madman.

A madman who loves to the extreme, suffers to the extreme, and can even deceive himself.

There is no redemption from him here, no warmth from him, no Nagi from him.

Only Tsukuyomi, with his deepest obsession and pain, wove the cruelest punishment.

His Nagi... the real Nagi... is still sleeping somewhere, waiting for him.

He wanted to take her home.

Within the enormous eye of reincarnation, crimson light surged, and icy rage and lucid despair burned like tangible flames.

"Be broken."

He whispered, not to the illusion, but to his own pathetic indulgence.

The next second, the entire Japanese-style room, along with the panicked "Uchiha Nagi," shattered like a broken mirror before his eyes, cracking inch by inch and scattering into countless illusory points of light.

The illusion created by Tsukuyomi has collapsed.

What remains is a reality colder and darker than illusion, and a heart that has been utterly crushed, yet has been rebuilt with unwavering resolve by this extreme pain.

【Yahiko's Tsukuyomi World——】

When Yahiko opened his eyes again, he saw the perpetually gray sky of the Land of Rain, and the sound of raindrops hitting the dilapidated eaves was so familiar it sent shivers down his spine.

The air was filled with the smell of damp earth and a faint stench of blood—the smell of home.

"Well done!" Jiraiya's deep voice came from behind, and he patted the three children on the shoulders at the same time with his broad hands. "That's all for today's training. I'll treat you to dumplings."

This is the third year they have been taken in by Jiraiya.

War continues to rage along the border, but in this small training ground, the three orphans enjoy an incredible peace.

They practiced ninjutsu clumsily, their tattered clothes soaked by the rain, their lips turning purple from the cold, but the same flame burned in their three pairs of eyes: a thirst for power, a tenacity for survival, and... a faint hope for the future.

"Concentrate your chakra! Yahiko, you're distracted again!" Jiraiya's voice was filled with a helpless rebuke, but he casually wrapped his coat around the trembling Konan.

Standing in the rain, watching this scene, Yahiko felt as if his heart was being soaked in warm water, both sour and swollen.

Yes, this is where his original dream began.

Despite the tragic deaths of his parents in the war, and despite struggling daily with hunger and cold, he had companions, teachers, and the dream of "changing the land of rain." Life was hard, but there was always light.

Yahiko took a bite of the sweet dumpling, watched the wounded soldiers staggering past on the street, and suddenly spoke, "If...if the ninja world could be at peace, what would that be like?"

Xiao Nan folded a paper bird and let it hover under the leaky eaves, "so that the children won't have to go to the battlefield."

Nagato nodded silently, his Rinnegan reflecting the perpetually gray sky of Amegakure.

This dream took root and sprouted like a seed. On the day Jiraiya left the Land of Rain, Yahiko stood in the rain and loudly swore, "We will establish an organization to bring peace to the ninja world!"

Konan's paper flowers bloomed in the rain, and for the first time, Nagato opened his arms and embraced his two family members.

The Akatsuki organization initially consisted of only three people. They helped farmers repair destroyed houses, delivered food to orphanages, and rescued dying soldiers in war zones.

The red cloud and black background of the morning robe designed by Nagato was particularly eye-catching in the rain. He said that red is the glow before dawn and black is the darkness that must be experienced for change.

They traveled between major powers, delivering food and medicine to displaced refugees during lulls in the fighting, and advocating for the rights of commoners at banquets hosted by daimyo and nobles.

The Akatsuki organization's reputation grew, and they were called "the hope of the Land of Rain" and "the dawn of the ninja world."

As Yahiko stood on the high platform and gave his speech, looking into the eyes of those below who had rekindled their hope for life, his chest was filled with a sense of accomplishment.

Everything was as beautiful as a dream, and the Land of Rain seemed to be gradually shedding its cloak of despair thanks to their efforts.

Then one rainy night, Xiao Nan suddenly disappeared.

Yahiko and Nagato searched the entire Amegakure like madmen, finally finding her in a brightly lit host club.

She sat on the sofa, expressionless, watching a blond man pour her wine, paper roses blooming and withering between her fingers.

"Minami!" Yahiko rushed over and grabbed her wrist. "What are you doing here?"

Xiao Nan slowly raised her head, her pupils unfocused. "I'm waiting for someone."

Nagato's Rinnegan suddenly contracted. "Waiting for whom?"

"Waiting for...someone very important." Her voice seemed to come from a great distance. "She said she would come to pick me up."

Yahiko's heart suddenly ached. He forcefully pulled Konan up, and together with Nagato, they protected her on either side as they walked out.

When the glass door of the host club was pushed open, the wind chimes made a crisp sound.

—It's all too familiar.

Yahiko's steps suddenly stopped.

This scene... he must have experienced it before. Fragments of images suddenly flashed through his mind: you were drunk and hanging on the neck of the male host, and he and Nagato carried you out with dark faces.

You were still grinning foolishly then, your wet hair brushing against his neck.

"Little sun~" Your voice was as languid as a cat's, "Next time I'll take you to an even better shop~"

More memories flood back: sometimes you're soberly devising battle plans, sometimes you're talking madly to the rain.

You always knock over test tubes in the lab, yet you can solve a sealing formula in three minutes that even Nagato Hana couldn't figure out in three days.