Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Their gazes clashed fiercely under the moonlight, as if invisible sparks were flying in the air. Tobirama had never seen his brother so excited before, and for a moment he was speechless.

Hashirama took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Tobirama, I know you're doing this for the good of the clan. But please trust me this once. This negotiation is our only chance to end this cycle of hatred."

"You've been blinded by Madara Uchiha," Tobirama said coldly. "What ideas did he instill in you that made you willingly abandon the pride of the Senju clan?"

"Madara didn't instill any ideas in me!" Hashirama's voice rose again. "I witnessed the cruelty of war with my own eyes, I buried our loved ones with my own hands! Didn't you waver even a little bit? Didn't you ever question the meaning of this endless slaughter?"

Tobirama fell silent, countless battle scenes flashing through his mind: the Uchiha ninjas lying in pools of blood, the weeping faces of the Senju clan members who had lost their loved ones.

But he quickly dismissed those thoughts: "War is the destiny of ninjas. We are born to fight and to protect our clans."

"What if there was a way to protect the clan without fighting?" Hashirama countered, his eyes gleaming with hope.

"Tobirama, imagine this: if the Senju and Uchiha joined forces, we would become the most powerful force in the entire ninja world. No one would dare challenge us, and our clan could thrive in peace..."

"Join forces?" Tobirama scoffed. "Brother, you're getting more and more delusional. The Uchiha clan has the blood of our own people on their hands. How could they possibly cooperate with us sincerely? This is just a delaying tactic!"

The light in Hashirama's eyes gradually dimmed. He shook his head wearily, turned around, and prepared to leave. "I'm tired. I don't want to argue anymore. When the day of negotiation comes, whether you support me or not, I will stick to my decision."

"Brother!" Tobirama cried out urgently, "You can't go your own way! Father will never agree to what you're doing!"

Hashirama's back froze. After a moment, without turning his head, he said, "Perhaps Father's choice is not always correct. I am the young clan leader, and I have the responsibility to make choices for the future of the Senju clan."

After saying that, he walked heavily up the stairs and disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.

"Damn Uchiha!" Tobirama cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth. He slammed his fist into a wooden pillar beside him, causing the entire staircase to tremble slightly. He looked up at the bright moon, his heart filled with anger and unease.

The moonlight remained cold and indifferent, as if it were unconcerned about all the conflicts in the human world.

Tobirama stood there, lost in thought. He knew that once his brother made up his mind, it was hard to change it, but this decision, in his eyes, was tantamount to pushing the Senju clan into the abyss.

"Madara... what exactly did you do to my brother..." Tobirama muttered to himself, a hint of murderous intent flashing in his red eyes.

He vowed to make the entire Uchiha clan pay the price if that Uchiha dared to harm his brother.

A moment later, Tobirama also turned and went up the stairs.

It was late at night, and he needed to conserve his energy for an important negotiation soon.

As he passed by Hashirama's room, he heard suppressed sobs coming from inside. The sound was so faint that it would have been almost undetectable if not for a ninja's keen hearing.

Tobirama's hand froze in mid-air, hesitating to knock. He had never seen his brother cry in secret. Even when Kawarama and Itama were in trouble, Hashirama always suppressed his grief and comforted the others.

Upon hearing that voice, Tobirama felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart tightly.

In the end, he put his hand down and silently returned to his room.

Tomoya tossed and turned in bed, his brother's sobs and words about peace lingering in his mind.

"Maybe... just maybe..." Tobirama stared at the ceiling, his preconceived notions about the Uchiha clan beginning to waver for the first time. "If the war could truly end..."

But soon, he remembered his clansmen who had died at the hands of the Uchiha, and the pained expressions on their faces as they died. Anger surged within him once more.

"No, the Uchiha clan cannot be trusted. I must stop my brother from making a grave mistake."

Having made up his mind, Tobirama finally closed his eyes. Moonlight streamed through the window and fell on his face, softening his pale complexion.

Darkness surged in like a tide, and you felt yourself sinking deeper and deeper, with the whistling wind in your ears and the sharp sound of blades cutting through the air.

"Flying Thunder God Slash—"

You try to move, but find your body out of control, and can only watch helplessly as that silvery-white flash goes straight for your throat—no, it's not your throat, it's Izuna's!

"Izuna!" Madara's hoarse roar ripped through the dream.

You sit up abruptly, your clothes soaked in cold sweat, your eyes burning with pain, and the pattern of the Mangekyou Sharingan flashing in the darkness.

You gasped for breath, your throat dry as if it had been roasted by fire. You let go of your hand and looked at your trembling palm in the faint moonlight from the window. It was stained with the blood that had flowed from your eyes.

That man... silver-white hair, a cold and stern face, a deadly kunai in his hand... I vaguely remember this name from the intelligence network...

"Senju... Tobirama..." you murmured to the void, your voice hoarse as if it came from another time and space.

A secret report intercepted in early winter last year recorded a new technique developed by the second-in-command of the Thousand Hands.

At the clan meeting, Madara scoffed that it was nothing more than a trivial skill, but now, the taste of blood that Izuna swallowed in the dream lingers between your teeth.

"Who am I...?" You curled up in the corner of the bed, burying your face between your knees.

His eyes were still bleeding, and the pain spread from his eyeballs to his temples. The darkness in the room seemed to have materialized, wrapping around his limbs and pressing on his chest.

You let out a painful groan as your nails dug deep into your arm.

"Ouch, this really hurts. Is this the price of a prophet?"

You know your pupil power is declining, and every time you use this ability, your vision will become a little blurrier.

In a few years, I will be completely blind...

I forced myself to calm down, wiped the blood off my face with my sleeve, and realized I had to think things through and sort out these chaotic memories and premonitions.

You are absolutely certain that Tobirama Senju will become the Uchiha's greatest enemy, not only for the Uchiha, but also for Madara.

Your feelings for Ban are so complicated that even you can't understand them. Sometimes when you look at him, you feel a suffocating sense of familiarity, and other times you feel that there is an entire world between you.

"At least for now... I can let my heart flutter freely."

You know you have no future, and the decline of your pupil power is irreversible, but before you completely fall into darkness, there are still things that must be done.

The Mangekyou Sharingan glowed faintly red in the darkness, and the outline of the shrine appeared particularly solemn in the moonlight.

Your fingers trace the mottled family crest on the door frame. Details you hadn't noticed when you came with Ban last time are now clearly visible, with tiny ancient characters engraved on the edges.

The shrine gate creaked slightly, as if resisting late-night visitors. The central stone monument stood silently, like a silent guardian in the dim light.

You take out three specially made candles from your pocket. The wicks are soaked in chakra, and as you light them with hand seals, the candlelight turns an eerie purple, illuminating the patterns on the stone tablet that cannot be seen by ordinary light.

The patterns on the Mangekyou Sharingan spun rapidly, and the text on the stone tablet rippled and rearranged into entirely new content.

Your pupils suddenly contracted—this is the true history of the Uchiha.

"The Sage of Six Paths founded the Ninja Sect... His eldest son, Indra, inherited the Sage's Eyes... His second son, Ashura, obtained the Sage's Body..."

Your fingertips tremble slightly as you read. The text records that Indra was exceptionally gifted but was rejected by his father for his excessive pursuit of power, which ultimately led to a falling out between his brothers. His chakra was reincarnated and reborn over a thousand years.

The stone tablet clearly states that the Uchiha clan is a descendant of Indra, while the Senju clan is the successor of Ashura.

"So Madara and Hashirama..."

The candlelight suddenly flickered violently, and a sharp pain shot through your temple. You endured the discomfort and continued to decipher the inscription, discovering that the stone tablet also recorded the "Infinite Tsukuyomi" plan.

By combining the powers of Indra and Asura, they cast illusions that would envelop the entire world, creating an ideal land free from war.

“But that requires…” your voice choked in your throat, “…the eyes of the reincarnation of Indra…”

Suddenly, dark red liquid seeped from the text at the bottom of the stone tablet. At first, I thought it was a hallucination, until I smelled the rusty, bloody odor.

Those texts record the fates of each reincarnation: brothers killing each other, both sides suffering heavy losses, the cycle repeating itself endlessly...

"No!" You staggered backward, the candlestick slipping from your trembling hands.

The purple flames struggled on the ground for a few moments before going out, and the shrine fell into darkness once more.

The Mangekyou Sharingan spun uncontrollably, and the blood-red characters on the stone tablet in his vision seemed to come alive, twisting and forming an illusion of Madara and Hashirama fighting.

In the illusion, Madara's eyes streamed with bloody tears, while Hashirama had an Uchiha fan piercing his chest. Behind them lay countless corpses of ninjas impaled by tree roots, and a blood-red moon hung in the sky...

"Ah!" You covered your stinging eyes and knelt down.

When the illusion dissipated, I found my cheeks were soaked—I didn't know if it was sweat or blood and tears.

The overturned bronze incense burner tumbled down the steps, startling the crows that were perched among the beams and pillars.

These black birds, tamed by the Uchiha, emitted cries like those of infants, their flapping wings eerily merging with the whistling sounds of shuriken techniques cutting through the air.

As you walk through the corridors of the Kagura-den, the morning mist flows between the vermilion torii gates.

As you turn to leave, your sleeve catches the sacrificial bell in front of the shrine, causing it to fall to the ground. The sound startles the figure outside the door, but just as you are about to bump into them, the figure transforms into a substitute wooden stake.

The Yoshino cherry blossoms that had circled the training ground were shedding their last petals of the year.

As soon as I stepped onto the bluestone path, I saw Ban's Flame Fan stuck in the seventh wooden stake, which was the spot he always struck during his morning practice.

For the first time ever, the young clan leader was wearing casual clothes today, the hem of his dark blue haori still damp with the moisture from the Nanga River.

“You have the scent of incense from the shrine on you.” Madara raised his hand to catch a falling cherry blossom petal, and the chakra flames that ignited at his fingertips burned the petal into a gray-white butterfly.

The first ray of morning sun pierces through the clouds, casting long, dappled shadows that cover you like a silent protection.

"If I said I could see the threads of fate..." Your voice was softer than a falling petal, "would the young clan leader believe me?"

Ban's pupils suddenly contracted, and countless memories of solitary cultivation in the dead of night surged through his mind. The words he wanted to say but couldn't utter now transformed into a sentence with a rusty tinge: "The other end of the thread you see... whose heart is tied to?"

As the morning mist dissipated, you saw a double image reflected in Ban's contracting pupils: the young clan leader in reality and Indra with two horns on his forehead in the illusion. The flame fans in their hands simultaneously ignited with black flames that devoured the heavens and the earth.

The next day, lights lit up one by one outside the window of the Uchiha clan compound, as everyone got up early to prepare for the important negotiation day.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by Madara's deep voice, "Nagi, are you awake?"

You quickly wiped the cold sweat from your forehead and forced your voice to be steady, "I'm awake."

"I'll be waiting for you in the council chamber." The footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

You breathed a sigh of relief and struggled to get up to change your clothes.

The person in the mirror was as pale as a ghost. He put on the black robe of a death warrior and finally put on a cloak and hood that covered half of his face.

The Uchiha clan's most elite assassins have no need to show their vulnerable side.

When I pushed open the door, the east was already turning white.

The tribesmen, fully armed, lined up to depart. Ban stood at the very front, his long black hair blowing in the morning breeze, his profile as sharp as if carved by a knife.

Sensing your gaze, Madara turned his head, his Sharingan eyes appearing a deep red in the morning light.

“Let’s go,” he said briefly.

You silently walked to the spot behind Madara. Izuna stood on Madara's other side, his gaze lingering on you for a moment, his brows slightly furrowed.

"You look terrible," Izuna said in a low voice.

"It's alright," you replied briefly, pulling your cloak down even lower.

The group set off, passing through the misty forest.

Your breathing gradually became steady. The lingering pain from the cold poison was still coursing through your body, but it no longer affected your movements. You noticed that Ban turned around several times, and each time you shook your head slightly to indicate that you were alright.

When the Uchiha clan arrived at the negotiation location—an open area at the border between the two clans' territories—the Senju clan was already waiting there.

You immediately notice Hashirama standing next to Senju Butsuma, the young Senju clan leader who is rumored to be on par with Madara in strength.

He was taller than I had imagined, and his brown eyes lit up noticeably when he saw the spots.

"Uchiha Tajima, you're late," Senju Butsuma said coldly, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Chapter 23 Negotiation

"The negotiations haven't even started yet, so how can you say we're late?"

The two clan leaders faced off, and the fluctuations of chakra in the air caused the leaves of the surrounding trees to sway even without wind.

Just then, you felt dizzy and had to stop to steady yourself.

This subtle movement caught Madara's attention. He turned to look at you, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes.

"Your physical condition..." Ban lowered his voice, "I have already sent people to other major powers to search for an antidote."

You force yourself to stand up straight, ignoring Ban's concerned gaze.

But the sound of his heartbeat was like a drumbeat in his ear, and you knew that Ban could definitely hear it; his senses were terrifyingly sharp.

Madara seemed to sense your panic, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips, before turning back to face the Senju clan.

But you can still feel the lingering warmth of his gaze, like the summer sun burning on your skin.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Uchiha Tajima’s voice broke the tense silence, “let’s begin.”

Madara withdrew his attention from you and reverted to being the fearsome young Uchiha clan leader who struck terror into the hearts of his enemies.

But your thoughts drift uncontrollably back to last night—

Curled up in the room, your teeth chatter uncontrollably, your fingers gripping the blankets tightly until your knuckles turn white, as if this could resist the rampant cold poison within your body.

Struggling to crawl towards the first-aid kit in the corner, I found it empty when I opened it. I should have replenished the medication after returning from the last mission, but the continuous reconnaissance missions left me no time to do so.

A wave of excruciating pain washed over you, and you groaned as a trickle of blood escaped from the corner of your mouth. Your vision began to blur, and the image of Ban's ever-calm black eyes appeared before your eyes.