Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

I will become a son you can be proud of!

[Extended Reading: Redemption in Tsukuyomi] — Jiraiya and Gaara

[Jiraiya's Tsukuyomi World—]

Naruto fell down again, and got up again, his face covered in mud, his blue eyes burning with an inextinguishable flame, shouting the vow, "I'm going to be the Hokage!"

Jiraiya leaned against a tree trunk, a familiar, seemingly cynical smile playing on his lips.

The Great Toad Sage's prophecy echoed in his mind—a prophecy about the Child of Prophecy, a prophecy about world change.

The child before him, his disciple, Naruto Uzumaki, was undoubtedly that beacon of hope. He watched Naruto grow, watched Naruto approach that pivotal moment of destiny step by step.

He should have felt relieved, but deep down, Jiraiya felt a cold, untouchable confusion.

This confusion stemmed from his return from Amegakure.

He imagined the rogue ninja organization to be a den of iniquity, a lair filled with conspiracy and bloodshed.

What he glimpsed, however, was a different scene altogether: an almost pious "peace," an "order" that erased all emotions and differences, which severely impacted his lifelong belief in mutual understanding.

What unsettled him even more was the woman codenamed "Li Nu".

Upon his return, the world seemed to lose its color, and even his most prized work, "Intimate Paradise," with its sensual inspirations that once fueled his writing, became dry and powerless.

The manuscript paper was piled on the desk, the ink was dry, and his pen tip hovered for a long time. In the end, however, what he drew was always the outline of those cold and stubborn eyes that he did not intend to draw.

Damn it...

Jiraiya shook his head violently, as if that would banish the phantom of those eyes from his mind.

He tried to suppress this inexplicable emotion, attempting to cover it up with the grandeur of heroic tales or the sensuality of intimate paradises, but all to no avail.

It was during this struggle that he suddenly began to understand Tsunade.

The death of Kato Dan nearly destroyed Tsunade, but she was later... seemingly saved by another woman who also possessed strong vitality and unique charm, and began a new life.

He used to find it unbelievable, but now, if the person who can give someone a new life, even at the cost of changing their sexual orientation, is someone like Tanuki...

Jiraiya smiled bitterly. Perhaps, no one could resist that kind of charm.

It's an attraction like a moth drawn to a flame; even knowing it's a destructive abyss, it still makes people want to peek at the starlight beneath.

Even his own heart, which wanders through flower gardens and prides itself on having seen all the beauty of spring, is not...

Here, time seems to be preserved in amber.

The incessant, chilly rain of Amegakure has disappeared, replaced by the eternal afternoon sun of Konoha, warm but not scorching.

Naruto on the training field is always working hard and will never really get hurt. The world is peaceful and serene, without the shadow of Akatsuki, without the impending separation and sacrifice.

Most importantly, he can "create" her.

In the world of Tsukuyomi, he possesses almost godlike authority.

He could separate her from that cold, intrigue-filled, and rainy world.

He had her appear in Konoha's library, quietly flipping through books, her profile gentle, her fingertips tracing the pages, as if she were just an ordinary, beautiful woman with a touch of aloofness.

He had her sit under the veranda of the hot spring hotel, looking at the rockery and flowing water in the courtyard, with a cup of tea beside her.

He even mustered up the courage to go up to them and use his clumsy flirting skills.

"Beautiful lady, I see you have extraordinary talent and an exceptional temperament. Would you be interested in being the female lead in my next masterpiece?" He struck what he thought was a dashing pose.

The tanuki in the Tsukuyomi world raised its head and looked at him. There was no murderous intent, no coldness, only a faint, almost imperceptible doubt.

"Oh? What kind of novel is it?" Her voice was no longer the cold one I remembered, but carried a genuine and soft question.

Jiraiya's heart skipped a beat; he knew it was fake, yet he was still happy to accept it.

They began to talk, and he told her about the strange and wonderful things in the ninja world, as well as the fantastical stories from his novels.

Most of the time she just listened quietly, occasionally asking one or two sharp questions, showing her inner intelligence and keen insight.

He no longer called her Tanuki or Nagi, but gave her a fictional name, a beautiful name that belonged to this sunny world.

He was indulging in this false peace and closeness, where he didn't have to consider the possibility that she might be another child of prophecy.

She doesn't have to endure the anxiety and fear that might have put her in a life-or-death situation in the real world outside.

He knew all too well what the appearance of Itachi Uchiha and Kisame Hoshigaki meant, and he knew that Akatsuki's actions had accelerated.

The outside world is turbulent, and the real her may be in dire straits, or she may already be... He dared not think about it, much less go out and face it.

This month, reading the world became his most cowardly yet sweetest refuge.

He looked at her almost translucent skin in the sunlight, and at the slight curve of her lips when he made a joke. At that moment, the Child of Prophecy and the peace of the ninja world seemed to be unimportant. He just wanted this afternoon to last forever.

He lingered, refusing to "wake up".

Day after day.

He wandered in the world of Tsukuyomi, circling the illusion constructed by his subconscious, like a planet orbiting a star, greedily absorbing the unreal light and heat.

The purpose of Tsukuyomi is to torment and crush the enemy's will, not to provide a warm haven.

Jiraiya's bizarre act of treating an extremely painful mental prison as a paradise is undoubtedly a provocation and mockery of his authority.

Suddenly, the sky, or rather the backdrop of the entire world, distorted very subtly, like a screen with a poor signal.

Jiraiya's voice abruptly stopped.

The world is collapsing; it is taking back its false gifts.

"No... wait..." Jiraiya subconsciously reached out, trying to grab the phantom that was about to dissipate.

Jiraiya felt his consciousness being abruptly pulled from the illusory body he had long been immersed in, and thrown into a bizarre, rapidly flowing tunnel in an extremely brutal manner.

The world spun around me, and my consciousness blurred.

When he regained his senses, the first thing he felt was the cold, damp air, mixed with the smell of rust and dust.

All I could hear was the endless, pattering sound of rain.

His eyes shot open.

The illusion was forcibly dispelled, leaving not relief, but a piercing pain as if hollowed out and an even more overwhelming, inescapable worry and fear.

When the bubble of a beautiful dream bursts, the reality that is revealed is often more chilling and desolate than a nightmare.

Gaara's Illusionary World -

The wind in Sunagakure always carries coarse sand and gravel, lashing against your face with a perpetual, desolate pain.

Just like Gaara's life, it was marked by hurt from the very beginning.

Shukaku's roar never ceased deep within his soul; Yashamaru's desperate and hateful gaze was the opening of every nightmare he had; his father's cold scheming and the villagers' deep-seated fear formed the entire backdrop of his world.

He is a jinchūriki, a weapon, a demon who only loves himself. The meaning of his life seems to be nothing more than a cruel way to prove his existence.

Until that woman appeared.

"Wait until you grow up."

Her voice was flat, barely revealing any emotion. Perhaps to her, it was just a pity or perfunctory excuse during a break in her mission, a future that was easily spoken and for which she had no responsibility.

But Gaara took it seriously.

It became the only salvation to survive, the first and only ray of light to pierce through the darkness of my life.

These words became his only hope, and he longed to reunite with her every moment.

He began to grow rapidly, not physically, but in terms of strength, status, and intellect.

He suppressed all his outward murderous intent and madness, deeply hiding his obsessive, burning emotions beneath his cold exterior.

All of this is so that one day I can stand in front of her again and be worthy of the words, "I'll wait for you to grow up."

In this world, he knew she was coming.

Not as an enemy, but as a... fulfiller of a promise.

He knew she would come.

“You’ve grown up,” Phantom said, her voice as calm as she remembered, yet strangely tinged with a hint of satisfaction.

That one sentence alone was enough to completely melt away all the cold shell that Gaara had carefully constructed.

That heart, which had never been truly warmed in reality, beat violently in the illusion, carrying sharp pain and extreme pleasure.

He might nod very slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing, but no sound would come out.

All his obsessions, all his waiting, all his madness found an outlet at this moment, yet he suppressed them all beneath a calm facade.

Only those eyes stared at her unblinkingly, churning with a deep emotion that could drown a person—dependence, longing, and an almost devout infatuation.

He didn't ask her if she was still leaving, nor did he ask about the reality of the outside world. He dared not ask, for fear that any question would shatter this perfect yet fragile dream.

In the world of Tsukuyomi, they will have "interactions".

He might silently follow half a step behind her.

Like a silent guardian shadow.

She would occasionally stop to look at the scenery of Sunagakure, which was different from Amegakure. He would immediately stop, his gaze fixed intently on her, as if she had to be able to see him there the moment she turned around.

She might speak, saying something trivial, about the sandstorms, about the resilient desert plants. He would listen intently, treasuring every word as if it were divine pronouncement.

His responses were always brief and restrained, yet contained profound meaning.

Like a male ghost lingering in the human world, he finally grasped the only source of light that could give him solace, even if that light was false, a cold illusion of Tsukuyomi, he was willing to sink into it forever.

His obsession, his waiting, and all his twisted and profound emotions found temporary, yet complete, satisfaction in this world.

Did he know it was fake?

Perhaps they knew it subconsciously.

But he didn't want to wake up; he was willing to give anything for this fleeting moment of illusory tenderness.

The meaning of his life was almost solely for this moment. He dared not think about the outside world, nor did he want to face the question of whether she was alive or dead.

He only wanted to stay in this sunset with her there, until eternity.

The whole world began to collapse, the warm sunset faded, and the cold reality surged in from all directions like a tide.

The light he had chased with all his might shattered completely before his eyes once again.

Consciousness was abruptly ripped away, dragged back to that cold, cruel reality.

The Tsukuyomi world has ended.

A reunion in reality may never be possible, but the dream in the world of Tsukuyomi has become the most beautiful and cruel mark on his heart, one that will last until his death.

[Forbidden 1V1: Tanuki Yahiko] — Office Romance

Ever since you took that ring that symbolizes zero and ruled Xiao with absolute power and ruthlessness, the office on the top floor of this tower, overlooking the gloomy scenery of the entire village, has become a kind of silent battlefield.

His only rival is Yahiko.

Under the guise of assisting you, he naturally placed his desk opposite you, claiming it would improve efficiency and facilitate discussions on important matters.

Those eyes that always held a burning heat, those perfectly timed yet meaningful expressions of care, and the countless half-hearted probing and hints made between documents, in the steamy tea, or in the quiet of the two of you breathing, all made you feel a kind of irritation that was more difficult to deal with than a powerful enemy.

What he wants is obvious: a romantic relationship.

Your response was to accept overseas assignments more frequently.

The riots on the border of the Land of Rain, the secret talks in the Land of Grass, the allocation of supplies in the Land of Rivers... you handle everything that requires the leader's personal involvement.

Rather than endure the omnipresent, almost tangible, ambiguous stares in the office, you'd rather face the clash of swords and the intrigue of schemes.

At least those things, you can resolve decisively and cleanly with force.

As a result, the leader's office often falls into an eerie state of emptiness.

The documents piled up like a mountain, awaiting approval, while Yahiko became the one truly "alone in an empty room."

He handles the vast majority of government affairs, managing everything in an orderly manner, as if you had never left, and as if silently proving who is the truly persistent presence here.

This time, the mission to the Land of Grass took longer than expected.

By the time you finally arrived back at Amegakure, it was already late at night, and the continuous sound of rain concealed your return.