Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

The ordinary wooden lunchbox that I used to change every day is gone.

Her heart skipped a beat! An indescribable joy and excitement surged up instantly! She took it! She finally accepted!

I suppressed my excitement and walked over calmly, only to find the lunchbox, which had been washed clean and was even a little shiny, in the corner of the windowsill.

Next to the box, there was a small, rough piece of cloth that looked like it had been torn from a piece of clothing.

I picked up the cloth with trembling hands.

On the cloth, a single word, "Thank you," was written crookedly in some kind of dark red, dried liquid.

The handwriting was so childish, like a child's scribbles, with strokes that were even somewhat grotesque, yet it conveyed a seriousness that came from giving it his all.

Is it blood? My heart felt like it had been pricked by a needle, a slight, sharp pain. Was she... unable to find a pen? Or did she feel that only blood could express...?

My eyes welled up with tears, and I held the cloth carefully, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.

I know that the story between me and that girl has finally truly begun.

She still rarely spoke, like a silent shadow.

But the lunchboxes I left on the windowsill every day were never left over.

Sometimes, a flattened wildflower or a smooth little stone would appear in the box.

I know her name, Showa, a name that carries too much heavy past.

I started to run into her by chance, in secluded corners, when some literacy textbooks and papers would accidentally fall down.

Later, I mustered up my courage and went directly to her. Under her wary gaze, I opened my book, pointed to the simplest characters, and taught her to recognize them one by one. Holding her hand, I taught her to write them stroke by stroke.

Her hands were cold, her fingertips had rough calluses, and she wrote with a tense grip, as if she were in the middle of a battle.

Perhaps out of selfishness, the first complete and meaningful word I taught her was "love".

I slowly and carefully wrote the word on the paper and told her, "This is 'love,' a very warm and beautiful thing."

She looked up, her dark eyes staring at me, something flickering within them, something I seemed to understand but not quite.

I don't know why I did that.

All I know is that my feelings for Showa go beyond just heartache and pity; she's like a magnet, irresistibly drawing me closer.

Her loneliness, stubbornness, and even her deeply hidden vulnerability made it impossible for me to look away.

I understood that a long time ago.

I fell in love with this girl who struggled to survive like a wild dog, but never truly bowed her head.

This secret feeling, like a vine growing in a dark room, quietly entwined my heart until my father noticed it.

The family's accusations came like a storm.

"Monster," "ominous," "tainting the Uchiha bloodline"... harsh words, cold confinement, what separates us is not just high walls and guards.

The Showa era has also completely disappeared from my world.

I tried to find out about her, but all I got was silence. I thought that our brief but warm encounter was like a stone thrown into a deep pool, destined to sink and never come to an end.

Much later, the First Elder, Uchiha Xu, suddenly decided to hold a grand coming-of-age ceremony for his adopted daughter, a completely unprecedented event.

I went there with mixed feelings, and then, in the crowd, I spotted her at a glance.

She was dressed in the magnificent Uchiha clan attire, her long black hair tied up, revealing her clear and heroic eyebrows and eyes.

That melancholic aura remained, but it was mixed with an indescribable, sharp, and piercing light. She stood under the light, yet she herself seemed to be a deep shadow.

Her gaze, passing through the noisy crowd, landed on me almost imperceptibly.

I immediately lowered my head, but my heart started pounding uncontrollably.

She saw me.

I forced myself to calm down and pretended that I knew nothing.

But as he passed by her, he spoke in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for her to hear, with a touch of appropriate aloofness and politeness, "Nice to meet you, Showa-senpai."

At that moment, I clearly saw her body suddenly stiffen! The wine glass in her hand swayed almost imperceptibly, and a little wine spilled out.

She suddenly turned to look at me, and a storm raged in her dark eyes! Although she quickly suppressed it, that momentary loss of composure did not escape my notice.

The huge boulder that had been hanging in my heart seemed to suddenly fall to the ground, creating a tremendous echo that made my limbs go numb.

Sure enough... she loves me too.

From then on, I began to deliberately approach her, using family matters and asking questions as pretexts to appear before her time and time again.

She never refused.

Each time I approached, she remained silent, but her eyes would flicker slightly, and her body would subconsciously tilt towards me at a small angle.

We tacitly agreed not to mention the pain of our forced separation in the past, but greedily enjoyed this secret closeness that had been regained.

Feelings escalated rapidly in silence, like molten lava surging from the earth, fiery and dangerous.

I thought that the appearance of Izanagi would be a turning point.

Perhaps we can break the so-called curse on her and give us a different future.

Unexpectedly, it only exacerbated the tragedy of her fate.

That force pushed her into an even deeper abyss. When she told me that she was leaving to find a way to completely lift the Right Chancellor's curse, my intuition screamed a warning!

This might really be the last time we see each other.

A huge panic gripped me.

Just as she turned to leave, I don't know where I got the courage, but I suddenly reached out, grabbed her wrist, pulled her forcefully towards me, and then stood on tiptoe and kissed her cold lips without hesitation.

That kiss, brief and trembling, carried all my love, reluctance, and desperate plea.

As we parted, my forehead pressed against hers, my voice choked with sobs, almost breaking, "Don't kill anymore..."

This is the only, most humble request I can think of.

I don't want her to save the world, I don't want her to break the curse, I just hope... she can be alright, that her hands won't be stained with any more blood, and that she can have... a slim chance, but at least a chance to live.

I couldn't see her expression, but I could feel the rapid throbbing of her pulse in her wrist.

Finally, she pushed me away abruptly and, without looking back, almost hastily disappeared into the night.

It felt as if if you were even a second too slow, you would be completely lost and never be able to leave.

I stood there, gazing in the direction she had disappeared. The warmth of her wrist still lingered on my fingertips, and the cold touch of her skin still clung to my lips. Finally, tears streamed down my face.

I know I might... never see her again.

【BE·Showa? Jisato】—"When Flowers and Leaves Meet Again, Life and Death Separate Us"

After Uchiha Nagi's figure completely disappeared into the closing spacetime rift, Showa, who was barely holding on, finally couldn't hold on any longer.

As if all her bones and blood had been drained away, she abruptly pulled away from the gap that had held her together for a moment, staggering backward.

Behind him, the time gate to the past, forcibly opened by the primal power of the end of time, was becoming extremely unstable due to the drastic consumption of energy. Its light flickered, its edges began to distort and blur, and it was about to completely dissipate.

A final, frenzied glint erupted from Showa's crimson Rinnegan! She didn't even have time to steady herself; she practically tumbled and crawled, using every last ounce of her strength to lunge towards the flickering, dying gate of light!

The instant her fingertips touched the edge of the light gate, a powerful suction force surged forth, causing the world to spin!

The intense tearing sensation felt like it was crushing her soul. The pain accumulated over a century and the backlash from forcibly opening the crack erupted in full force at this moment!

But she gritted her teeth, letting the pain wash over her, her eyes filled with a stubborn crimson.

(Chiri...wait for me...)

Suddenly, my eyes were brightened, and then the familiar air, carrying the scent of sandalwood and smoke, filled my nostrils.

Beneath my feet was solid ground, and in my ears were the deep, solemn chanting.

She staggered a few steps, finally managing to steady herself. The dizziness hadn't completely subsided, and she anxiously looked around—

My heart stopped abruptly at that moment!

The Uchiha clan's sacrificial altar! Surrounding it are clan members dressed in formal clan attire, their expressions solemn! The flickering bonfire casts shifting shadows on everyone's faces.

And just a few steps directly in front of her.

The figure she had longed for for a hundred years, searched for for a hundred years, and even risked falling into hell to find, stood there in Uchiha Chiri's arms.

Chiri was dressed in a clean shrine maiden outfit, her long purple hair flowing smoothly over her shoulders. Her expression was focused and gentle, and she was holding an ancient scroll in her hands.

That scroll... Showa recognized it; it was a scroll containing the forbidden techniques of Izanagi!

It seems that Zhili is about to present it to the elder who is presiding over the ceremony.

Time seemed to have left no trace on her; she remained the most beautiful image in Showa memories, gentle as moonlight and pure as the first snow.

A century of lonely waiting, a century of frantic searching, a century of despair and pain... all of it transformed into a surging, overwhelming ecstasy and excitement that nearly overwhelmed her!

"Zhili—!!"

Showa's voice was hoarse and broken, filled with sobs and an incredulous tremor.

She couldn't care about anything else—the sacrifices, her clan, the rules of time and space! All she could see was that one person!

Like a trapped beast that has finally found its way home, she rushed forward impatiently and stumbled, opening her arms wide and trying her best to hug that figure tightly!

I want to feel her warmth, confirm her existence, and pour out all the longing and grievances of the past century!

She lunged at him.

But... she passed through it.

Without any hindrance.

Like a ridiculous ghost, it passed through a phantom of nothingness.

Because she exerted too much force, she lost her balance and staggered forward several steps before finally regaining her footing.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

The chanting continued, the campfire crackled, and the tribespeople remained solemn. No one noticed the uninvited guest who had suddenly barged in, appearing to be insane.

Showa turned around stiffly and extremely slowly.

Chiri maintained the posture of holding the scroll with both hands, her head slightly tilted, as if she were whispering something to the maid beside her, with that familiar, gentle smile on her lips.

Her gaze swept over the location of Showa, but did not linger there, as if it were just a wisp of air.

Showa stood there, stunned, his mind blank.

Why...can't I hug him?

Why...is there no reflection of her in Chiri's eyes?

Incredulously, she raised her trembling hand and held it up to her eyes. In the light of the sacrificial bonfire, the hand had an eerie, translucent quality!

Showa looked down at his own body, which was also translucent, as if it might vanish in the wind at any moment.

A cold, hard truth that she had deliberately ignored and refused to recall, like a belated judgment, crashed down on her soul with the power to crush everything!

She's a ghost...

A soul that died a hundred years ago, clinging to the world through obsession and the power of wisdom...

And the place before us...

Living in this past fixed by the gate of time, living in the time before she... died.

So...she can see Chiri.

But Chiri... will never see her again.

Between them lies not only a century of time, but also... the chasm of life and death.

An imagined reunion... a meeting longed for for a hundred years...

It turned out to be such an absurd and cruel joke.

An extremely faint, choking sound escaped from Showa's throat.

The belated, soul-wrenching pain, like a tsunami, arrived late and completely overwhelmed her!

A sharp, suffocating pain shot through her heart, as if countless hands were tearing it apart!

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.