Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Madara instantly became alert, his Mangekyou Sharingan flashing again. "Who is it?"

No one answered.

The footsteps stopped outside the door, followed by silence.

Madara narrowed his eyes and slowly walked towards the door. His chakra perception was fully activated, and he could clearly feel a familiar chakra fluctuation outside the door, so familiar that it made his heart stop.

Ban found you at the training ground behind the clan's territory. You were standing alone on the edge of a cliff, the night wind blowing your long hair, making it impossible to see your expression.

"You shouldn't have come." Ban walked up behind you, his voice much gentler than usual.

You didn't turn around. "I can sense you're angry." You paused. "A very strong emotional fluctuation."

Ban was silent for a moment, then said, "The antidote has been stolen."

Your shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly, but you quickly regained your composure. "Hmm."

Just this one word, so light it could almost be blown away by the wind.

Ban, however, understood everything contained within it: disappointment, resignation, and... liberation?

“I’ll find another way.” Ban stepped forward and placed his hands on your shoulders. “This isn’t the only option.”

You finally turned around. In the moonlight, your eyes were still beautiful, but they had lost their former sparkle.

Ban could clearly see that those eyes, which were once as bright as stars, now seemed to be covered with a layer of gray mist.

"Madara," you whispered his name, a faint smile playing on your lips, "Don't waste any more resources on me."

"This is no waste!" Madara's voice suddenly rose, then he forcefully suppressed it again. "Nagi, your eyes..."

"My eyes are beyond saving," you say calmly. "From the moment I turned on the kaleidoscope, I knew this day would come."

Madara's hand tightened, almost crushing your shoulder bone. "No, there's still a way. It's recorded in the forbidden scroll of the Uchiha clan—"

"I won't accept it," you interrupted him, your voice soft yet firm.

The air between them seemed to freeze. Madara's Sharingan appeared uncontrollably, his Mangekyou Sharingan spinning wildly. "How dare you... how dare you decide to give up on your own!"

You raise your hand to touch Ban's cheek, your fingertips gently tracing his taut contours. "This isn't giving up, Ban. This is a choice."

You tilt your head slightly, though you can no longer see his expression, "I don't want to become a second Showa."

The name Showa was like a bucket of ice water poured on Madara's head. The Uchiha who fell into darkness did not hesitate to slaughter his own clan for power.

“You’re not like Showa.” Madara grabbed your wrist, his voice hoarse.

"If I take away the eyes of my people, what difference is there between me and her?" You smiled bitterly. "The power of the seal is eroding my sanity, Madara. Every time I use the Kaleidoscope, I can feel it whispering... just like it said to me in Showa's dream."

Madara suddenly pulled you into his arms, so tightly you could barely breathe. "I won't let you disappear, Nagi, I swear."

You buried your face in Ban's chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat, and wanted to say that you were not afraid of the darkness, not afraid of death, but only afraid of becoming a burden to him.

But in the end, you just close your eyes.

What's the point of peace if we can't even protect the people who are most important to us?

In the night breeze, Ban made a decision, a decision he knew you would object to, but he had no choice but to make.

The lights in Tobirama Senju's laboratory have been on for thirty-six hours straight.

Scattered draft papers covered the entire floor, densely covered with complex formulas, spell structures, and chakra circuit diagrams.

Several calligraphy brushes were carelessly discarded in a corner, their ink long since dried. On the blackboard hanging on the wall, an anatomical diagram of a Sharingan was drawn in chalk, with various symbols that only Tobirama could understand.

"No...it's wrong again..."

Frustrated, the white-haired boy crumpled the latest draft into a ball and slammed it against the wall.

The crumpled paper hit the blackboard and bounced into a pile of similar failures.

Tobirama rubbed his reddened eyes, his white hair sticking up in a mess, clearly having been scratched countless times by his master.

The crystal ball in the corner of the laboratory showed the time as three in the morning, but Tobirama showed no sign of resting.

He picked up a new brush, dipped it in ink, and began to draw a new formation diagram on the blank scroll.

The scratching sound of the pen tip on the paper was particularly clear in the quiet laboratory.

Tobirama stared intently at every symbol he drew, making sure they were accurate to the millimeter.

This is a complex chakra guidance system that, in theory, can help reconnect damaged optic nerves.

"If we incorporate the sealing techniques of the Uzumaki clan as a buffer..." Tobirama muttered to himself, adding a few special symbols to the edge of the drawing.

Suddenly, the brush paused, and a drop of ink spread, ruining the perfect lines. Tobirama frowned, not because of the mistake, but because of the image that suddenly appeared in his mind: those Sharingan eyes that were gradually losing their light.

Nagi Uchiha's eyes.

Three days ago, during their chance encounter at the festival, he clearly saw the dim light in her eyes.

As a long-time rival who studied the Uchiha bloodline limit, Tobirama understood better than anyone what it meant.

The degeneration of the Sharingan, the loss of sight, ultimately leads to eternal darkness.

"Tch." Tobirama put down his brush, leaned back in his chair, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

"What am I doing?" Tobirama suddenly asked himself, his brows furrowed.

He turned back to the lab table, looking at the research materials on Sharingan recovery spread across the table, and a sense of absurdity welled up within him.

Why help an Uchiha? Especially a notorious assassin from the Uchiha clan? They should be life-or-death opponents on the battlefield.

Tobirama picked up a test tube; the liquid inside shimmered faintly with blue light under the moonlight. He tried to analyze his behavior rationally.

First of all, Uchiha Nagi's Sharingan is indeed an excellent research sample.

As a genius of the Uchiha clan, her eye power is extremely pure. Studying the process of her vision decline and the methods of recovery would greatly benefit our understanding of the essence of the Sharingan.

Secondly, witnessing the fall of a genius ninja is, from an academic perspective, a waste.

Just like watching a precious work of art being destroyed, any aspiring researcher would feel regret.

"Last what?" Tobirama's fingers unconsciously stroked the surface of the test tube, a hint of confusion flashing in his red eyes.

Finally, he didn't want to see those beautiful eyes turn gray.

The thought suddenly popped into his head, causing Tobirama's fingers to tremble slightly, and he almost dropped the test tube.

“Absurd.” He coldly commented on his idea and put the test tube back on the shelf.

"It's just because her Sharingan is special..." Tobirama muttered to himself, trying to find a reasonable explanation for his actions, "She's valuable as a research subject."

Indeed, Nagi Uchiha's Sharingan is rare even among the Uchiha clan.

She has an exceptional talent for illusion magic; it is said that she can trap her enemies in an inescapable illusion the moment they make eye contact.

If such eyes were to disappear, it would be a tremendous loss to the research of ninjutsu.

Tobirama stood up, walked to the bookshelf at the other end of the laboratory, and pulled out a thick book, "The Bloodline Limits of the Eye and Nerve Regeneration," a work he had begun compiling five years ago and was still not finished.

He quickly flipped to a marked page, which recorded several rare methods of treating pupil-related ailments.

"Theoretically, the Ice Grass of the Snow Country can alleviate the inflammatory response of the optic nerve..." He traced a line of small print with his finger, then shook his head, "But she was poisoned by cold toxins, and ordinary antidotes are completely ineffective."

Thinking of this, Tobirama suddenly remembered the intelligence he had received that morning: all three Uchiha squads sent to the Land of Wind had gone missing, and it was suspected that the medicine they were transporting had been hijacked.

He sneered at the time, thinking that the elite of the Uchiha clan were nothing special.

"So what? What does this have to do with me?" Tobirama muttered to himself, unable to control the churning of his thoughts.

Those eyes are dying.

"Damn it!" Tobirama suddenly swept everything off the table, smashing the ink bottle to pieces. The black liquid spread across the floor, just like his tangled thoughts.

There was a gentle knock on the laboratory door.

"Lord Tobirama? Are you alright?" It was the voice of the lab assistant.

"Get out!" Tobirama shouted sharply, startling the assistant outside the door into immediately falling silent and leaving.

After taking a few deep breaths, Tobirama knelt down and began to gather the scattered papers.

His movements suddenly stopped on a draft soaked in ink, which was the treatment plan he had designed last night, combining the Thousand Hands clan's cell activation and the Uzumaki clan's sealing techniques.

In theory, this solution can prevent the further erosion of the cold poison and may even reverse the damage that has already been caused.

"It's just theoretical verification..." Tobirama muttered to himself, "As a scholar, I have a responsibility to explore all possibilities."

He carefully placed the soaked paper aside to dry, then walked to the safe in the innermost room of the laboratory.

After the complex sealing procedure was performed, the cabinet door slid open silently, revealing several test tubes inside. The bright red liquid inside the glass tubes glowed faintly—cell samples from Hashirama Senju.

“My brother’s cells have an extremely strong regenerative ability…” Tobirama took out a test tube and examined it under the light. “If the dosage can be controlled properly…”

An unprecedented sense of urgency gripped Tobirama. He strode back to his workbench and began frantically writing new plans, his pen almost tearing through the paper.

"I won't let you just disappear like this..." He didn't even realize he'd said it aloud, "Your eyes... are so precious..."

"I'm really crazy." Tobirama laughed self-deprecatingly.

“Don’t misunderstand, Uchiha,” Tobirama explained as if to someone who wasn’t there, “It’s just a researcher’s curiosity.”

But as he silently blended into the night, the inexplicable restlessness in his chest just wouldn't subside.

The dark room of the former Uchiha clan is perpetually dark, and the stone walls are covered with damp moss.

You sit at a dusty low table, your fingertips unconsciously tracing the deep knife marks on it, traces left from a heated argument years ago.

In the blurry vision, even the moonlight appears hazy and indistinct. Ever since your eyesight began to deteriorate, you have often hidden here, away from the pitying gazes of your people and the worried eyes of Ban.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

The sudden footsteps were exceptionally clear in the silence. Your fingers paused, you didn't look up, but all the muscles in your body were already tense.

Not many people can find this place, and those who will come at this time...

I guessed you were hiding here.

The wooden door creaked open, and Uchiha Rei's tall figure appeared in the doorway. He was still wearing his dark blue combat uniform, his black hair tied up high, revealing a fair and calm face.

Unlike your increasingly failing eyesight, his eyes remain as sharp as a hawk's.

Leng Xi walked in, closing the door behind him. Without any ceremony, he sat down on the cushion next to you, his movements so fluid that it was as if you were still the same perfectly matched partners from back then.

Your voice carried a clear self-deprecating tone, "To see me make a fool of myself?"

Leng Xi's jawline tightened noticeably, and her hands, hanging at her sides, unconsciously clenched into fists. "I don't have that kind of perverse sense of humor."

He paused for a moment, then lowered his voice, "We were colleagues after all."

"Ha." You scoffed, clearly not believing it.

He fumbled for the kettle on the table and poured a cup of tea for Leng Xi as well. The tea was already cold, but Leng Xi still took it.

The two fell into a brief silence. You knew that Leng Xi wouldn't come looking for you for no reason, especially after she had "lost power".

Since your eyesight began to deteriorate, the elders of the clan have gradually marginalized you, and your former colleagues who once surrounded you have also distanced themselves from you, except for Ban.

"The Crimson Flame Spirit Grass is about to be used by the Wind Kingdom as a betrothal gift to the Water Kingdom in a marriage alliance," Leng Xi suddenly said. "I remember the orphan you adopted..."

Your body tensed instantly, and even with your vision blurred, you could feel the meaningful gaze Leng Xi was casting.

"You investigated me?" Your voice turned cold.

“No investigation is needed.” Leng Xi shook her head slightly. “This matter is recorded in the archives. I just happen to have… high enough authority.”

"You're more conflicted than I thought, Leng Xi." You rested your chin on your hand, pondering the feasibility of what Leng Xi had said.

If the Crimson Flame Spirit Grass is indeed to be sent to the Water Kingdom, then the route it will take...

“Likewise.” A smile finally appeared on Leng Xi’s calm face. Although it was faint, you could feel that he had relaxed a bit. “The escort team from the Land of Wind will depart in three days by sea. The support ship sent by the Land of Water will meet them in the waters near the Land of Tea.”

Chapter 34 - Breaking a Promise

You whistled softly, "You even know the route. Your intelligence network in the Land of Wind is deeper than I imagined."

“It’s not my intelligence network,” Leng Xi corrected. “It’s ‘ours.’ Don’t forget, during your vacation, I took over some of your informants.”

Ah, I see. You squinted your eyes.

The so-called "vacation" was just a euphemism used by the clan to describe their withdrawal from frontline missions due to declining eyesight.

Lengxi not only took over your job, but also did quite well.

"So," you ask bluntly, "why are you telling me this?"