Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Izuna covered his ears expressionlessly, "No, we're researching how to be a pervert."

The eaves bells of Nanga Shrine shattered into seventeen pieces in the wind.

You lean against the family genealogy scroll, your fingertip poking Madara's nose, "According to Chapter 3, Section 2 of 'Research on the Activity of the Uchiha Bloodline'..."

The bandage that slipped from your sleeve was still stained with the blood from this morning's battle, but now you were using it to quote classical texts, as if testing your husband's self-control.

The five fingers on your waist suddenly tightened, "I'm more mature than you mentally."

His other hand began to grope your thigh, the kaleidoscope swirling in the shadows, "Calculated based on pupil power consumption..."

"Sophistry." Your knee pressed against his lower abdomen, but he used the momentum to push you down against the pillar.

The morning light filters through your loose black hair, casting spiderweb-like shadows on your freckled face.

The whirlwind created by the clash of their chakra stirred up fallen leaves and startled the swifts nesting under the eaves.

For the umpteenth time, Izuna covered Gen's eyes.

"Looking at too much will make you blind." As he pulled his younger brother back, he stepped on and crushed a scroll, which was the "On the Sexual Relationship between Chakra Activity Cycle and Physiological Age" that Madara had forged the previous night while staying up all night.

The title page still had red bean cake crumbs on it, and next to it were a dozen or so angry chibi versions of Nagi.

"Brother!" Izuna finally lost his temper and threw a shuriken, which embedded itself in the pillar near their ears. "If you want to argue, go argue in bed!"

Madara's response was to hoist you onto his shoulder, and before disappearing in a flash, he didn't forget to smash his younger brother's head with the scroll, saying, "Go revise page thirty-seven of the 'Genealogy: Spouse Chapter'—"

Later, when Izuna was tidying up the room, he found that Madara had added a note in red pen to that page of the family tree: Uchiha Nagi, whose age was eternally frozen at the moment Madara fell in love with her. The handwriting was so wild and messy that it looked like the claw marks of some kind of beast declaring its sovereignty.

Xuan, clutching a small pillow, gazed up at the starry sky. "Third Brother, I want to find someone who isn't good at studying..."

Nowadays, the fortune slips at Nanga Shrine have an additional taboo: it is strictly forbidden to give any timekeeping instruments to the clan head and his wife.

The hourglass from last year's birthday gift was crushed into glass powder by Ban and mixed into the glaze I gave you.

That porcelain cup is now displayed in the entrance hall of the clan chief's house. Hidden on the bottom of the cup are small words engraved in a kaleidoscope: "Now you will always be three days younger than me."

This is a romance unique to the Uchiha clan, in a corner that even the Infinite Tsukuyomi cannot illuminate.

(Act Two, Timeline: After Hanekawa's birth.)

When Uchiha Hanekawa awakened his Mangekyou Sharingan at the age of five, Madara was using Susanoo to build blocks for him.

"How did Father and Mother fall in love?" The child's pupils reflected the images of his parents.

Madara's chakra sword cleaved through the toy castle with a "crack," "She always writes nonsense in her mission reports."

You look up from the pile of scrolls, and you see, "He annotates even the most trivial things word by word."

Yuukawa suddenly realized, "So you communicated through written correspondence?"

Izuna covered his face outside the door.

Your toes rubbed against your husband's instep under the table, and the force with which he gripped your ankle made the solid wood floor groan under the strain.

All the elders' Sharingan eyes went out of focus. Ever since this couple took power, the Uchiha clan gathering had become a large-scale dog-slaughtering scene.

Until Hanekawa raised her little hand, "Father secretly read Mother's diary last night..."

Madara's ear tips instantly turned red, like a prelude to activating Susanoo.

Your calm gesture of refilling the tea caused the chains to rattle softly. They were the chakra metal that you had personally forged to lock the tailed beast years ago, and they were now wrapped around your husband's wrist.

"Yes, he does that often."

After retiring, Ban became increasingly unscrupulous. When you missed dinner for the third time because you were engrossed in ancient books, the blue Susanoo sword cleaved through the library's dome.

Amidst the swirling pages of the book like snowflakes, he carried you, struggling, across the tattered pages of the "Complete Book of Sealing Techniques," with the dumbfounded Tobirama Senju and the Forbidden Technique Zone suffering the consequences behind them.

"You're getting more and more willful as you get older."

"Shut up and eat."

Ban gently pressed you to the table, but his movements while serving soup were as tender as if you were handling a fragile item.

Yu Chuan counted the lingering finger marks on her mother's wrist and suddenly realized that she had inherited not only her parents' talents, but also a kind of madness etched into her DNA.

The librarians behind the bookshelves huddled together, trembling: Should we just disappear?

That night, the Konoha infrastructure team received a strange order: "Requesting earthquake-resistant equipment for the library, capable of withstanding Susanoo-level damage."

The study late at night, many years later.

Madara's chakra enveloped the oil lamp, keeping the flame at the optimal brightness for reading.

He chained your ankle to the table leg with chakra to stop you from trying to stay up all night for the 108th time.

In the family photo frame, Yuuka's Sharingan smiles crescent-shaped, while the remnant soul of Indra drifts past the window, staring at Madara's hand tying your hair for a long time before suddenly dissipating into stardust.

Black Zetsu's scream echoed from underground: "Has the curse of your Uchiha clan been fed to the dogs?!"

You calmly turn a page of the book, "Hmm, feed the one Yuukawa keeps."

As the Sage of Six Paths' sighs echoed in the Pure Land, Black Zetsu was being stuffed into Hanekawa's toy box.

This schemer, who had been plotting for a thousand years, could only watch helplessly as the reincarnation of Indra braided his wife's hair, using the flaming fan that had once slain the tailed beast to hold down the hair tie.

The Sage of Six Paths glimpsed this scene through his Rinnegan: Madara was using a flame fan to fan you while you stayed up all night, his sleeves stained with soy sauce from the kitchen.

Yuukawa's notebook was filled with drawings of the whole family's Susanoo going on an outing, while the Indra chakra, which had been prophesied to destroy the world, was now gently wrapped around the hair of his wife and children.

"Mother, Father is stealing a kiss from you."

"Yes, his Alzheimer's has flared up again."

Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the title page of the diary, which had been annotated countless times.

"Madara Uchiha is still annoying today."

Annotation: To be continued tomorrow!

[Super Mini-Theater] - Part 2: Easter Egg

(Act 3, Timeline: The month following the cancellation of the final battle at the Valley of the End.)

The morning light pierced through the washi paper, illuminating the soldier's ration pill disguised as red bean paste on Madara's fingertip.

With the focus of a Chibaku Tensei, he was embedding the pill into the filling of the three-colored dumpling. The patterns of his Rinnegan spun silently in the shadows, as if calculating the probability of survival if his wife found out.

"Today's tea is especially cooling."

Your voice suddenly rang out behind him. Ban's back stiffened for a moment, then he calmly accepted the teacup you offered. The coptis chinensis powder floating on the water was enough to poison a tailed beast.

Hashirama Senju's laughter was stuck in his throat.

"Wait... this is what you usually eat?!" He watched in horror as the couple swallowed the special food without batting an eye, and then slammed the teacup in his hand onto the tatami mat.

"A habit formed during wartime." You smile as you replace the guests with regular snacks, a subtle murderous intent hidden in the soft clinking of the porcelain plate against the wooden table. "He's always worried I'm malnourished."

Madara turned his face away, the old scar behind his ear glowing red in the morning light. "Someone used the Transformation Technique to disguise themselves as a patrolling ninja while pregnant, and stole the Three-Colored Dumplings..."

Before Hashirama's laughter could even escape his chest, he was frozen in place by two kaleidoscope lights that illuminated simultaneously.

After the illusion faded, a trembling matsutake mushroom appeared in the courtyard.

"Father, Mother, are we having mushroom hot pot tonight?"

Hanekawa, returning home from school, skillfully watered the mushrooms. Underneath the "Advanced Ninjutsu Theory" she pulled from her schoolbag was a copy of "The Complete Book of Poisonous Plants," with Madara's handwritten inscription on the title page: "To my dear pharmacologist."

Later, after the genjutsu was broken, Hashirama found a note tucked into his clothes that read, "If you laugh again, I'll put slugs in your tea."

The handwriting is wild and unrestrained, like it's been carved with a knife, but the signature is your sharp, small handwriting—this couple even team up to threaten people.

As the sun set, Madara was carving patterns on the dumpling with Susanoo's fingers.

You suddenly press a bitter pill against his throat, saying, "Next time you dare to put medicine in sweets..."

"You'll feed me double the amount of Coptis chinensis?" Ban grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, biting off the powdered sugar from your lips the instant his wife fell into his arms. "Deal."

Hashirama silently moved the mushrooms he had planted a little further away.

(Act 4, Timeline: Early Pregnancy.)

The moment the dew fell from the tip of the leaf, the golden barrier began to hum.

Ban's body was half wedged in the window frame, and he was holding a wild mint covered in dew in his arms. The fresh teeth marks on the leaves were clearly visible in the moonlight. It was obvious that a certain clan chief could not distinguish between medicinal herbs and poisonous herbs and had to taste each one himself.

"The Uchiha clan leader has changed careers to become a herb gatherer?" Your figure leaning against the window was edged with silver by the moonlight, and a gentle curve appeared beneath your loose nightgown.

With lingering chakra threads still wrapped around your fingertips, you pulled Madara half an inch closer to the window, like manipulating a puppet.

"I'm afraid you'll vomit and soil my tribe's land."

Ban threw the mint into her arms like he was throwing an explosive tag, but as he turned around, the corner of his clothes was gently caught.

You twirled a mint leaf between your pale fingertips and suddenly tucked it behind his ear.

The undried dew between the veins of the leaves slid down my temples like a belated confession.

“It suits you well, Mr. Medicine Doctor.”

On a night when the dew was heavy, the azure Susanoo quietly unfolded.

The bones, formed from chakra, glowed faintly in the darkness, and the curves of the ribs perfectly embraced the bed like a cradle.

Madara, with his back to the bed, flipped through the scrolls, his Sharingan spinning wildly in the dark. He held the book "Complete Guide to Pregnancy Care" upside down for three hours.

“I’ve heard that chakra resonance can soothe a fetus.” His explanation was as abrupt as declaring war. “Don’t get me wrong, I just…”

The fetal movements suddenly subsided, and you pretended not to notice the tense back behind you, while Ban pretended not to hear your suppressed laughter.

As the morning light pierced through the window, a small, glowing handprint appeared on Susanoo's finger bones, flickering with the baby's movements, like a star breathing.

Later, at Hanekawa's first birthday party, Madara drunkenly used Susanoo to lift up the entire cradle.

When you raised an eyebrow at him, this battlefield ninja shook out dried mint leaves from his sleeve. "This time... I didn't bite them."

Black Zetsu scratched at the rock wall in the shadows, "How could the reincarnation of Indra know how to brew medicinal tea?!"

Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Madara was using chakra to roast freshly picked mint.

The leaves unfurl in the morning light, and the dewdrops reflect the bell you secretly tied to the end of his hair. With a gentle sway, it echoes the gentle passage of time.

(Act 5, Timeline: Hanekawa's third day in the world.)

Madara Uchiha stood at the door of the nursery, veins bulging on his forehead, the "Encyclopedia of Childcare" in his hand almost crushed.

Inside the room, his wife, a fearsome leader of assassins who struck terror into the hearts of her enemies on the battlefield and a key figure in hawkish politics, was huddled in the corner furthest from the crib, hugging her knees, looking like a frightened rabbit.

“Nagi,” Madara tried to make his voice sound less clenched, “he’s just a baby, not an explosive tag.”

You lift your face, which is usually as cold as ice, but now it is filled with an unusual panic.

“I know… but Madara, he’s looking at me.” Your voice was eight octaves higher than usual. “His eyes… are exactly like yours…”

Ban sighed, put the book on the cabinet next to him, and strode towards the crib.

Little Yuukawa on the bed did indeed open his big, dark eyes, inherited from his father, neither crying nor making a fuss, but simply curiously observing the world.

Ban skillfully picked up his son with one hand and gently stroked the baby's back with the other.

“See, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Madara turned Hanekawa toward you. “He can’t even crawl, much less suddenly form hand seals to attack you.”

Your lips can be pressed into a thin line, allowing you to slay dozens of enemies with a blank expression, and also to instill fear in your opponents at the negotiating table.

But now, facing this little life, your fingers are trembling slightly.

"I...I'd better go take care of clan affairs." You suddenly stood up, moving as quickly as if fleeing a battlefield. "The renovation plan for the Nanga Shrine hasn't been finalized yet—"

"Stop." Madara's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

You stood frozen in place, your shoulders slightly hunched. Madara approached and gently placed Hanekawa into your arms. "Hold on tight."

You held your son stiffly, as if catching a bomb about to explode.

Yu Chuan squirmed in your arms, making babbling sounds. You gasped, almost dropping the baby.

"Ban! He's going to cry! He's going to cry!" Your voice was almost choked with sobs.

Ban suppressed a laugh and reached out to steady his wife's arm.

“He won’t, you’re holding him too tight, relax.” He adjusted your position. “Yes, one hand to support his head… the other hand… no, not like that, you’ll suffocate him…”

After some effort, you finally managed to hug Yuukawa in a barely acceptable position.

The baby seemed to sense its mother's unease and suddenly grinned, revealing a toothless smile.