Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Soft footsteps came from outside the paper door, like fallen leaves brushing the ground. Uchiha Kawarashi knelt outside the door, holding a first-aid kit, his long black hair covering half of his face.

"Elder Nagi," Chuan Lan said, a barely perceptible sob in her voice as she bowed, "I will help you transplant these eyes."

You gaze at the clan's most outstanding medical ninja. Kawanashi is known for his composure, but at this moment his eyes are lowered, and the shadows cast by his thick eyelashes cannot hide the dark circles under his eyes.

What's even more concerning is that there were bloodstains that hadn't been washed off under her right fingernails.

"what happened?"

Chuan Lan's lips trembled slightly, but in the end she simply opened the medical kit in silence. The scalpels were neatly arranged, gleaming coldly in the candlelight. She took out an injection, her movements so practiced they were almost numb.

"Please lie down."

You know it's pointless to ask any more questions, so you lie flat on the tatami mat, gazing at the flickering lamplight on the ceiling.

The moment the needle pierced the skin, darkness surged in like a tide.

The sensation of the scalpel cutting open the corner of your eye is exceptionally clear; you can feel the warm blood flowing down your temples, wetting the hair at your temples.

Chuan Lan's breathing grew heavier and heavier, occasionally interspersed with a few suppressed gasps.

"How did Liangying die?" you suddenly asked in the hazy, anesthetized state.

The tweezers fell to the ground with a crisp metallic sound, and Chuanlan's silence was deafening.

After an unknown amount of time, you feel a foreign object being gently placed into your eye socket. In the instant your nerves reconnect, a sharp pain cleaves through the darkness like lightning. You grit your teeth and taste the blood between your lips and teeth.

"ah--!"

You arched your back uncontrollably, your newly transplanted eyes burning in their sockets. Chuan Lan held your shoulders tightly, and tears finally broke through your defenses, dripping onto your cheeks.

"Just bear with it...it'll be over soon..."

The moment Su's eyes took root in their sockets, a surge of pupil power swept through her entire body like a tsunami. Her left eye, blind for many years, greedily devoured the light, while the kaleidoscope pattern in her right eye proliferated wildly, eventually transforming into an intricate kaleidoscope design.

"Is this... the eternal light?"

"Eternal Kaleidoscope..." you murmured to yourself, as power surged through your limbs and bones like a tide, even stronger than at your peak.

Blood-red steam rose from the hot spring in the back courtyard. Ban was soaking in the hot water, staring at his blood-stained hands.

A few cherry blossom petals floated on the water, stained dark red with blood. He closed his eyes, but he couldn't shake off Liang Ying's final, relieved smile.

Your Sharingan gleamed with an eerie light in the darkness. Chuan Lan tidied up the blood-stained gauze, tears falling onto the floor, blooming into tiny blood flowers.

The night wind swept through the corridor, extinguishing the last lamp.

A pungent, rotten smell wafted from the end of the corridor, like spilled honey mixed with rust. Standing in the darkness, you could faintly see the front courtyard of the council chamber in the distance.

Uchiha Kawaran knelt on the mat, holding a half-rotten corpse in his arms.

The corpse was unrecognizable; green plague patterns clung to its body like vines, and most of its facial muscles had fallen away, revealing its stark white cheekbones.

Only the outer robe embroidered with the Uchiha clan crest could still be identified as a relic of the Fire Core.

"Fire Core! Fire Core—!"

Chuanlan's cries shattered the silence of the clan's territory. Just half an hour ago, this medical ninja was calmly transplanting the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan into you, but now he was shaking that crippled body like a madman.

Her fingernails dug deep into the rotting flesh of the corpse, and her black hair was stained with bodily fluids and her own tears.

Uchiha Setsuna stood three steps away, the spinning tomoe in his Sharingan reflecting this mad scene. "Kawara, calm down!" he said, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"Calm down?" Chuan Lan looked up abruptly, her face streaked with a mixture of blood and tears. "How can you expect me to calm down! This is my fiancé!"

The three tomoe in her eyes twisted and deformed at this moment, connecting into a windmill-shaped kaleidoscope pattern. You squint your eyes, and there is yet another Uchiha awakening in extreme pain.

She opened her mouth in a flash, but before she could utter a sound, Uchiha Izuna suddenly appeared and covered her mouth. Izuna's black hair fell over her shoulders, and her voice was as soft as a sigh, "...I'm sorry."

Chuan Lan felt as if all her strength had been suddenly drained away. She slumped down, her forehead pressed against the rotting chest of the Fire Core, her voice broken and fragmented, "I don't want any Uchiha glory... I just want the Fire Core to live..."

Inside the council chamber, several elders stood silent as statues, their shadows stretched long against the wall by the candlelight, resembling menacing ghosts.

The air was filled with a strange stench of corpses, herbs, and incense.

You feel someone standing silently beside you. The man, whose hair is still dripping with water, exudes a faint smell of blood after his bath, and his dark hair spreads a dark color across his deep blue robe.

He silently watched the out-of-control Chuanlan, his Mangekyou Sharingan revealing no emotion.

Chuanlan's sobs gradually subsided. She picked up the kunai that had fallen to the ground, its blade reflecting the blood-red setting sun.

"The Second Young Master was willing to die for Thousand Hands Peach Blossom..." she murmured to herself, pointing the sharp end of the bitter knife at her heart, "Then can I..."

A pebble hurtled through the air, precisely striking the kunai. You withdrew your finger, and the newly awakened Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan slowly began to spin. Madara glanced at you, a barely perceptible smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Only then did everyone notice the presence of the two adults, and they all made way for them.

Ban and you walked up to Chuan Lan, a shadow looming over this woman who had lost her beloved.

"Not all love has to be expressed through suicide." Your voice was eerily calm. In your right eye's Eternal Kaleidoscope, the image of your younger brother Su before his death appeared, while in your left eye, Chuan Lan's tear-streaked face was reflected.

Blood tears streamed down Chuan Lan's Mangekyou Sharingan. "Then how should I express it? Like you... by coldly observing?"

Madara's chakra suddenly surged for a moment, then quickly subsided.

You know this is Madara's warning to Kawanashi, but your eyes have seen more: Kawanashi's chakra is flowing in reverse, a sign of self-destruction.

You crouch down, your fingers lightly touching the face rotting from the fire core, and memories flood back like a tide.

Under the cherry blossom tree, Firecore kneels down to propose to Chuanlan; on the training field, the two stand back to back against ten enemies; late at night in the medical room, Chuanlan bandages Firecore's wounds from a mission...

"What did he say at the end?" you suddenly asked.

Chuan Lan froze, and the surroundings fell into a deathly silence; even the candlelight stopped flickering.

“...He said…” Chuan Lan managed to squeeze out a few words, “...tell Chuan Lan…don’t cry…”

Madara finally spoke, "The Sharingan of the Uchiha is a curse born of love. Do you want the death of the Fire Core to be meaningless?"

Kawarashi trembled all over, and blood and tears slid from his kaleidoscope. Izuna released him the moment they stepped back behind Madara.

The entire courtyard was so quiet that you could hear the leaves rotting.

Looking towards the distant Nanga River, you suddenly understand why Madara personally brought back Suku's eyes—it wasn't just a clan rule, but also a cruel kind of tenderness.

Isn't allowing the eyes of our loved ones to continue witnessing this world another form of immortality?

As night fog rose, it enveloped the decaying corpse of Huo He, also blurring the tear and bloodstains intertwined on Chuan Lan's face.

Ban turned and left, the hem of his robe sweeping across the paper money scattered on the ground, making a rustling sound, like countless ghosts whispering among themselves.

"Clan Chief." Chuan Lan's voice was soft, yet it was like a blade scraping through bone marrow, carrying a kind of morbid obsession.

Madara Uchiha stopped in his tracks.

He stood with his back to Chuan Lan, his black hair falling onto his dark blue clan robe. Moonlight seeped in from outside the corridor, outlining his cold and hard features. He didn't turn around, but just slightly turned his head, his scarlet Sharingan gleaming eerily in the shadows.

"Can my wedding with Firecore... still go ahead as planned?"

Her fingers gripped Huo He's already cold palm, her knuckles turning white, as if she were trying to pull him back from the abyss of death.

Huo He's corpse lay there quietly, its decaying skin covered in green plague patterns, but Chuan Lan's eyes were terrifyingly gentle, as if he were just asleep and might wake up at any moment to smile at her.

Uchiha Setsuna's pupils suddenly contracted, and he turned his head sharply, staring intently at Kawaran, as if he had heard the most absurd joke.

"Are you really insane?" His voice was sharp and sarcastic, yet trembled slightly. "The Fire Core's corpse is right here, and you're going to have a wedding? Do you want to marry a dead person?"

He froze as soon as he said it.

Because he suddenly realized—yes, that's exactly what Uchiha Kawahara thought.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment. The other tribesmen had different expressions: some were astonished, some were silent, and some even showed a kind of almost morbid bewilderment.

Yes, this is the Uchiha clan, this is what those cursed bloodlines would do.

This word, like a block of ice, crashed heavily into the hearts of everyone present. The Uchiha clan's collection of supernatural tales recorded such a forbidden ritual: a wedding between the living and the dead, an obsession that transcends the boundaries of life and death.

The air freezes.

Izuna stood to the side, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the edge of the kunai.

He remembered that a long time ago, Huohe had jokingly made a promise to him, "On the day Chuanlan and I get married, you have to drink a lot of drinks."

Now, Fire Core is dead, and Chuanlan is going to marry a corpse.

Madmen, all the Uchiha are madmen.

"Just proceed as normal."

Ban's voice was deep and cold, yet it carried a kind of cruel indulgence. After speaking, he grabbed you, who was standing next to him, and left without looking back.

You stumbled slightly as he pulled you along. The patterns of the Eternal Kaleidoscope shimmered faintly in the darkness. You glanced at Madara's profile and noticed that his lips were taut, as if he were suppressing some emotion.

—Anger? Pain? Or...understanding?

After all, Bambi knew all too well what it felt like to be obsessed to the point of madness.

She lowered her head and gently stroked Firecore's decaying cheek, her voice so gentle it sent chills down your spine, "Firecore, did you hear that? The clan leader has agreed..."

"Our wedding will proceed as scheduled."

He caught his breath for a moment, staring at Chuan Lan, at her Sharingan eyes that had been twisted into a kaleidoscope, at the morbid smile on her lips, and suddenly felt a sense of dread.

The blood of the Uchiha clan has never flowed with glory, but with madness—utter, incurable madness.

Today, the wedding banquet still takes place, but the person who drank it is now just a rotting corpse.

"They've all gone mad..." Izuna murmured, but it was unclear whether he was referring to Kawarashi, Ryoei who died for love, Madara who tacitly approved of it all, or... the entire Uchiha clan.

The Uchiha clan, seemingly arrogant and powerful, is nothing more than a gathering of madmen at heart.

Chapter 72 Ghost Marriage

Izuna closed his eyes, then turned and left.

Moonlight spilled across the corridor, leaving only Chuanlan cradling Huohe's corpse, softly humming the wedding song.

The song was poignant and tender, like a blessing coming from the depths of hell.

The gasps in the darkness were like a blunt knife, slowly cutting through the silent air.

There were no lights on in the mansion, only a sliver of cold moonlight seeping in through the window, outlining two overlapping figures.

He almost roughly dragged you into the inner room, and the moment he slammed the door shut, your back was pressed against the cold wall.

"You're tired, you should rest." Your voice was calm as you pressed your palm against his chest, but his burning body temperature made your fingertips curl slightly.

Ban chuckled softly, a hint of danger in his voice.

"I'm not tired." His lips were almost touching your earlobe, his voice hoarse. "I miss you so much, I'm going crazy with longing."

Your eyelashes trembled, and you could feel Ban's fingers slipping inside your clothes, with an irresistible aggressiveness.

His Sharingan in the darkness resembled a wild beast eyeing its prey, both affectionate and sinister.

"...You're hopeless." In the end, you gave in.

"Enough is enough."

Ban ignored you, burying his head in your neck and licking wantonly, his canines gently rubbing against the throbbing veins, as if he would bite through your throat at any moment.

His kisses, imbued with a morbid possessiveness, spread from his collarbone to his shoulder blade, leaving their mark on every inch of his skin.

You were bitten so hard that you raised your hand and slapped him.

"Smack!" It wasn't loud, but it was a strong warning.

Ban paused for a moment, then grasped your wrist, put your fingertips in his mouth, gently bit them, and licked your fingertips with his tongue in an ambiguous way.

"Want to continue?" he asked in a hoarse voice, a morbid pleasure surging in his eyes.

You turned your face away in anger at his shameless behavior, but Ban seemed to have received some kind of tacit approval. He chuckled and pulled you into his arms, running his fingers through your long hair, holding the back of your head, and kissing you again.

Ban forcefully turned your chin, forcing you to look directly at him. In the moonlight, half of his face was hidden in shadow, and the other half was outlined by the cold light, making him almost eerily handsome.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

His hand gripped your waist with such force that it felt like he was crushing your bones. You knew all too well this obsessive possessiveness; he would always do this, using the most primal way to confirm that you were still alive, to confirm that you were still within his reach.

"……madman."

"You clearly like my craziness."

Ban loosened your belt, and as the fabric slipped down, the cold air assaulted your skin, only to be quickly covered by his burning body temperature.

His kisses traveled down your collarbone, finally settling on your heaving belly.