Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

"...The truth." Your gaze met Scorpion's without flinching.

Sasori's lips curled up slightly, a barely perceptible curve that momentarily stunned everyone present. Sasori of the Red Sand had actually smiled.

“You guessed right.” He stood up and slowly walked over to you, looking down at you. “So, what’s my reward?”

You look up at him, a sly smile playing on your lips, but your eyes hold an undeniable air of authority.

"Your reward is..." You gently tapped his chest with your fingertip, clearly feeling his muscles tense up suddenly, "Next time, you're not allowed to touch me with the puppet."

Scorpion's pupils contracted slightly.

"I want the real you."

Scorpion's Adam's apple bobbed, and he slowly leaned down, his long fingers pinching your chin, forcing you to look directly at him. His breathing was heavier than usual, as if he was suppressing something.

“...You’d better not regret it,” he whispered, his voice hoarse beyond belief.

You chuckle softly, your fingertips sliding down his collar to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse beating much faster than usual.

"I never regret it."

Scorpion's eyes darkened completely.

“...As you wish,” he finally said, his voice low and deep, as if coming from the depths of his chest. This promise was like a key that unlocked the door to his heart, which had been tightly closed for so long.

You know that from this moment on, your relationship will never be able to return to the safe distance it once was.

Leaning lazily against the cushions, your fingertips trace the rim of your wine glass as your gaze sweeps over the people sitting in a circle.

“It’s my turn, huh?” Deidara sat cross-legged on the mat, pursing his lips. “My least favorite food is natto, hmm.”

Kisame's gruff laughter broke the brief silence. "This is so boring, kid!"

“Rules are rules,” you chuckled, raising your glass. “Telling the truth means you don’t have to drink, lying means you have to. Since Deidara is telling the truth…”

You deliberately dragged out your tone, noticing a hint of unease flash across Deidara's face.

"Fine, I'll drink it!" Deidara grabbed the glass, tilted his head back, and gulped it down. The liquid slid down his chin, leaving a glistening mark on his collarbone.

As soon as the wine went down his throat, Deidara's face turned red at a visible speed.

He shook his head, then suddenly stood up and started gesturing wildly, "I collected every single hair the wicked woman shed during her battles! Yeah! It's in the glass bottle under my pillow!"

Hidan was the first to burst into laughter, slapping his thigh and leaning closer, "Hey, what are you doing with all that hair?"

“Of course, the smell at night is irresistible—uh-huh!” Before Deidara could finish speaking, several almost invisible chakra threads wrapped around his mouth, roughly sewing his lips together.

Scorpion withdrew his fingers and took a sip of wine expressionlessly, but you keenly noticed that the tips of his ears were slightly red.

"Deidara's alcohol tolerance is worse than I thought." You chuckled, covering your mouth as you watched Deidara frantically try to pull the string off his mouth, only to find it getting tighter and tighter.

You snapped your fingers lightly, and a small cluster of flames precisely severed the chakra threads, freeing Deidara.

“Next round,” Sasori coldly interrupted the impending argument, pushing the card toward Nagato. “It’s your turn.”

When Nagato drew the card that read "lie," it was as if most of the air in the room had been sucked away.

“My lie is—” Nagato’s voice was so deep it seemed to come from underground, “This game was just for fun.”

His oppressive aura was on full display at this moment. His red hair fell over his shoulders, and the flickering candlelight was reflected in his eyes, as well as your slightly pale face.

Your fingertips unconsciously trace the rim of the wine glass. You recall Nagato's meaningful gaze at the start of the game, the seating arrangement he deliberately made, and even the few extra seconds your fingertips lingered in your hair as he personally tied the blindfold ribbon around your eyes.

“...A lie.” You finally spoke, your voice more resolute than I had imagined.

Nagato smiled, a smile radiating an air of complete control. "You guessed right. So, what is my punishment?"

“Your punishment is to tell me,” you reach out, your fingertips gently tracing Nagato’s pale cheek, feeling his muscles tense instantly, “your true purpose in tonight’s game.”

Nagato's eyes were unfathomable, yet you could feel the temperature rising where she touched you.

He slowly stood up, his tall figure completely looming over you. "I want you... to place me in a special position."

These words were so soft that only you could hear them, yet they exploded in your mind like a thunderclap.

Your fingertips trembled slightly, but your face remained impassive. You stepped back slightly, tilting your head back to look directly into those Rinnegan eyes. "What position?"

“You know that.” Nagato raised his hand, as if to touch your hair, but stopped in mid-air.

"Hey, are we still playing?" Hidan interrupted impatiently, but was stopped by a look from Konan.

You lazily rest your chin on your hand, your fingertips lightly tapping the rim of the crystal glass, the crisp sound like some kind of countdown.

As his gaze slowly swept across every face present, everyone felt a jolt of electricity run down their spines. His eyes were like those of a hunter admiring his prey that had fallen into his trap.

“Actually…” she said softly, “I know that all of your number cards are 10.”

Deidara's clay bird fell to the ground with a "thud," and Hidan's blood-stained crescent scythe emitted an ominous buzz.

Sasori's puppet strings suddenly snapped, drawing a bright silver arc in the air. Itachi's Sharingan spun wildly, the three tomoe almost forming a single piece.

Nagato's Rinnegan glowed with a dangerous purple light, and Konan's piece of paper instantly transformed into a sharp blade.

But your smile grew even brighter, your fingertips lightly tapping the card you had been replaced, "I know even better..." Your drawn-out tone brushed against everyone's eardrums like a feather.

"Someone secretly switched my cards." Your gaze swept meaningfully over Itachi's slightly tightened fingers and Sasori's suddenly stiff shoulder line.

"So the touch game we just played... was me playing along with you guys."

In the deathly silence, Deidara's golden hair bristled like a hedgehog, his ear tips were so red they were almost dripping blood, Sasori's long scarlet hair moved without wind, and the puppet's joints creaked under the strain.

“Now—” you raise your glass and down it in one gulp, letting out a satisfied sigh, “game over.”

You slammed the empty wine glass face down on the table with a final, ultimatum-like sound: "Go back and rest, everyone."

No one moved; the only sounds in the room were rapid breathing and the crackling of the candlelight. You turned and walked toward the door, the hem of your robe brushing against Zhishui's taut knees, carrying a faint, lingering fragrance.

In this game, there are never any real winners, only players who willingly succumb.

You've just returned to your room, but you suddenly stop in your tracks when you catch a glimpse of the date on the calendar out of the corner of your eye—

Oh no, that promise!

The largest teahouse in the Land of Rain, "Listening to the Rain Pavilion," appears exceptionally quiet in the morning mist.

You stand in the empty second-floor private room, your fingertips gently tracing the cup of tea on the table that has long since gone cold.

A thin film condensed on the surface of the tea, reflecting your slightly tired face.

"You're leaving..." You gave a self-deprecating smile, and as you turned around, the ends of your hair brushed against the screen, startling the swifts perched on the windowsill.

Suddenly, a gust of wind brushed past my ear.

You grab the incoming wrist with your backhand, and halfway through a swift over-the-shoulder throw, the silver-haired Jonin's unique chakra fluctuations force you to stop your momentum.

Kakashi's headband shimmered in the morning light, casting a silver arc, and the eye peeking out from above his mask curved into a crescent moon. "I thought you weren't coming."

It contains too many complex emotions.

"Sorry, I forgot." You shrug, too lazy to make up an excuse.

Kakashi suddenly took a step closer, his nose twitching slightly. "Because of drinking?"

"So observant, you've been watching me closely." You deliberately dragged out the last syllable, your gaze widening slightly as you looked at Kakashi's only exposed eye.

A subtle tension hung in the air. You suddenly yawned and casually raised your arm to drape over Kakashi's shoulder. "Now that we've met, shall we find somewhere to continue our conversation?"

You can feel your subordinate's body tense up instantly. Kakashi is half a head taller than you, but he is stiff as if he has been frozen in place by a spell.

The mask covered most of his face, but you could clearly see the tips of his ears turning red at a visible speed.

"Whatever you want." Kakashi's voice was a little strained.

You chuckled softly, then put your arm around him and walked out of the teahouse. The drizzle had stopped, and early-rising vendors were starting to set up stalls on the street.

He led Kakashi through several alleys with practiced ease, finally stopping in front of a low-key black-tiled building.

"This is...?" Kakashi looked up at the inconspicuous sign above the door.

You've already pushed open the carved wooden door. "What are you daydreaming about? Come in!"

The warm fragrance that wafted towards him made Kakashi freeze in place. In the spacious hall, several well-dressed men were either sitting or standing. When they saw him enter, they all gave him familiar smiles.

What shocked him even more was that all of these men were exceptionally handsome, and their clothing... was quite daring.

"Welcome back, Tanuki-sama." A purple-haired man stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Kakashi for a moment. "You've brought a new guest today."

"Give us a quiet room." You casually tossed a bag of coins, which the purple-haired man caught precisely, his smile deepening.

Kakashi finally found his voice, "Wait, where am I—"

"A host club, huh? Can't you tell?" You turned to look at him, your eyes full of mockery. "Even an elite Jonin from Konoha wouldn't have been to a place like this before, would they?"

Kakashi felt a surge of heat rush to his face. He knew exactly where he was, but what he saw still left his mind blank for a moment.

What shocked him even more was your familiarity with the place; you could even name a few male escorts.

The purple-haired man led you to a Japanese-style room on the second floor. The room was small but extremely luxurious. On the low tea table were exquisite tea snacks and sake sets, and soft cushions were scattered around.

Once the paper door was closed, all outside noise was immediately cut off, leaving only the wisps of smoke rising from the incense burner.

Kakashi knelt on the mat, his posture as upright as a student participating in a tea ceremony for the first time.

His gaze fell on you as you poured the wine for the nth time. "Why are you...?"

"You come to places like this often?" you replied, pushing a glass of wine in front of him. "Relax, we're not on a mission."

Chapter 135 - Embarrassment

The liquor rippled in the glass, reflecting Kakashi's conflicted expression. After a moment's hesitation, he removed half of his mask, revealing his beautifully shaped jawline.

Your gaze lingered on his lips for a second, then casually looked away.

"You still like watching those intimate scenes—"

Kakashi moved with lightning speed, almost lunging at you to cover your mouth.

The distance between the two suddenly shortened, and you could clearly see your own reflection in his pupils, as well as the panic that he couldn't hide in time.

"Don't...don't say it..." Kakashi's voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

Your lips curved into a smile beneath his palm, and you deliberately exhaled, the warm breath brushing against Kakashi's glove, causing him to recoil as if electrocuted.

"Are you shy?" You propped your cheek up with your hand, your Sharingan eyes gleaming with the light of a triumphant prank. "A dignified Copy Ninja, yet you secretly enjoy reading those kinds of novels. Quite a contrast, isn't it?"

Kakashi put his mask back on, but it couldn't hide his bright red ears. Trying to conceal his embarrassment, he said, "That's different..."

"What's different?" You suddenly leaned closer, so close that Kakashi could smell the faint minty scent on you. "It's all just for fun."

The air in the room seemed to thin out. Kakashi felt his heart pounding loudly, while you acted as if nothing was wrong. You even reached out and removed his headband, letting that strand of silver hair that always sticks up fall down.

"This looks much better." Your fingertips brushed against his forehead unintentionally.

Kakashi held his breath; at that moment, he almost blurted out the words that had been hidden in his heart for so long.

But the next second you distanced yourself and casually poured yourself a glass of wine.

"Speaking of which, what exactly did you want to talk to me about?" Your speed in changing the subject caught me off guard.

"What exactly did you mean by what you said in the Snow Country a year ago?"

Kakashi's voice was exceptionally clear in the quiet Japanese-style room. His fingers gripped your collar, the fabric wrinkling finely between his fingers.

"It's nothing, just a simple consolation!" You tried to brush it off with your usual flippant tone, a nonchalant smile playing on your lips.

The silver-haired Jonin narrowed his eyes, his crimson Sharingan shining brightly in the dim light. "Don't forget what you promised?" His voice was deep and dangerous.

Both of their memories simultaneously returned to the day when Konoha issued the order to exterminate the Uchiha clan.

Rain pattered against the windowpane as Kakashi stood outside the Hokage's office, the scroll in his hand feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds.

The fate of the Uchiha clan was thus decided, reminding him of the look in Obito's eyes when he gave him the Sharingan on that battlefield many years ago.

"Kakashi-senpai?" Tenzo's call pulled him back to reality.

"Ah, sorry, I was lost in thought." He casually put away the scroll, but made a decision the moment he turned around.

Under the cover of the rain, he sent a message through the Root's secret channels to the woman who had disappeared without a trace after the battle in the Snow Country.

He doesn't understand why he's so certain you'll respond.

Perhaps it was because your invincible figure, standing within the golden Susanoo that day, was so awe-inspiring, like a celestial maiden from mythology; or perhaps it was because of the enigmatic words you left behind before you departed.

When Kakashi got home, his nerves were still on edge. He had just taken off his rain-soaked coat when he felt a slight disturbance in the air behind his neck—someone was there!

The kunai appeared in his hand in an instant, and as he turned around, he met a pair of smiling Sharingan eyes.