Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

"Will there be my child here..." His fingertips traced the path lightly.

Inside the room, Ban's demands grew increasingly fierce, as if he wanted to make up for all the time they had been apart. His fingers entwined your black hair, holding you firmly beneath him, not allowing you to escape even a fraction of an inch.

You gripped the edge of the tatami mat tightly with your fingertips, but at a certain moment he forcibly pried them apart, and your fingers intertwined.

You reached out and covered his eyes. "Don't use your eye technique," you gasped. "Just... like this."

"Okay," Ban replied in a hoarse voice, leaning down to pull you even closer into his arms.

The distant hooting of an owl echoed, mournful and plaintive. A spotted man pressed his lips against your sweaty forehead, silently saying something you couldn't hear, but your eyes clearly saw the change in the shape of his lips.

"do not leave me."

The fog was so thick it sounded like the sighs of the dead.

Before dawn, the tribespeople had already silently gathered in front of the shrine, their blue traditional clothing blending into the gray-white mist, like a group of souls standing at the boundary between life and death.

This was a wedding, and it was also a funeral.

Uchiha Gen stood at the edge of the crowd, his fingers unconsciously stroking the handle of his kunai, a strange chill creeping down his spine.

There was no laughter, no celebratory cheers, not even the sound of breathing; everyone stood silently, as if waiting for some unspeakable ceremony to begin.

Until deep within the fog, a white hue slowly emerged.

Uchiha Kawanashi was dressed in a white kimono, her black hair hanging down, her face as pale as paper. In her arms, she was not holding a bouquet of flowers, but a memorial tablet for the Fire Core.

In the photo on the memorial tablet, Huo He's smile is still so vivid, as if he might step out of the frame at any moment and say to everyone with a smile, "Hey, why are you all making that face?"

But he was already dead.

The rotting corpse, the green markings of plague, all that remained was this cold wooden plaque, the groom of this wedding.

The corpse was placed in the center of the altar, covered with a white cloth, with only a section of the wrist that had turned blue showing. The green lines of plague wrapped around the skin like vines, eerie and bewitching.

Ban stood at the very front, his deep blue clan robe almost blending into the mist. He gripped your hand tightly, so tightly that it almost made your bones crack.

You can feel the warmth emanating from his palm, burning hot like chakra, dispelling the chill from his fingertips.

"Let's go," Madara said in a low voice.

You slowly approached and stopped before the memorial tablet. Ban Qu lit incense, and the smoke rose in wisps, twisting into eerie shapes in the mist.

You gaze at the photograph of the Fire Core, your Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan reflecting the name on the memorial tablet, your expression calm to the point of indifference.

"A wedding gift for you."

You take a talisman folded into a triangle from your sleeve and hand it to Chuanlan.

The edges of the talisman glowed with a faint blue light, and fine incantations could be vaguely seen, traces of a sealing technique.

Chuan Lan looked up and met your calm, expressionless eyes. For a moment, their gazes met, and a silent understanding flowed in the air.

Chuan Lan reached out and took it, gently pressing the talisman to her chest before tucking it into her bosom and attaching it to the memorial tablet with the fire core.

She didn't need to ask what it was; the Uchiha's tacit understanding had long transcended words.

Chuan Lan walked slowly toward the altar, her white kimono skirt trailing across the damp ground, picking up fine dust. Her Mangekyou Sharingan swirled in the morning mist, her blood and tears long since dried, leaving only an almost numb calm.

The emcee's voice seemed to come from a very far place, hoarse and hollow. Chuan Lan slowly knelt down and gently placed Huo He's memorial tablet beside her, as if he could still stand shoulder to shoulder with her to pay his respects.

Her forehead rested against the cold wooden sign, her long hair falling down and obscuring her expression.

During the final bow, the mist suddenly surged, as if some unseen force was watching the ceremony from the darkness.

Ban's pupils contracted slightly, and his fingers clenched tightly. You glanced at him and noticed that the corner of his mouth was stretched into a sharp line, as if he was suppressing some kind of emotion that was about to erupt.

“It’s over,” he said in a low voice.

You didn't answer, but just watched as Chuan Lan knelt beside Huo He's corpse, gently holding that already cold hand, their fingers intertwined.

"Firecore, we're married."

No one answered in the fog.

Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it sent a chill down the spines of every Uchiha present.

Only one cherry blossom fell, gently covering Huo He's lips, like a final kiss.

The fog thickened, almost engulfing the entire shrine. The figures of the clansmen appeared and disappeared in the fog, like a group of wandering spirits.

Chuan Lan held the memorial tablet of Huo He and slowly turned around. The hem of her white kimono swept across the ground without making a sound.

This ghost marriage ended in silence.

The fog had not yet dissipated, and the sunlight was still unable to penetrate the clouds.

Fire Core became Chuanlan's husband forever.

And Chuanlan will forever remain the Uchiha's ghost bride.

Ashes drifted through my fingers, like a belated snowfall.

Uchiha Kawarashi knelt in the darkness, staring blankly at the lingering warmth of the burnt talisman in her palm. That heat quickly cooled, just like the gradually dying heart in her chest.

Then, the world began to fade.

She heard his voice.

It was so familiar that it caused her heart to stop.

The sunlight in the training ground was so bright it brought tears to her eyes. Fire Core stood behind her, beads of sweat still clinging to his forehead, his Sharingan glowing slightly with anxiety.

He reached out and grabbed her sleeve, so hard he almost tore the fabric. "I didn't mean to, you know how sharp-tongued I am!"

Chuan Lan turned her head away from him, but her clenched teeth betrayed a hint of wavering. Huo He took the opportunity to get closer, his nose almost brushing against her earlobe, his breath hot.

So that's why you won't talk to me?

She turned her head sharply and bit his shoulder.

Huo He winced in pain, but instead of flinching, he chuckled and pulled her even tighter.

The taste of blood spread between her lips and teeth; she tasted the saltiness of sweat and a temperature unique to the fire core.

The image shatters and then reassembles.

The medical room was filled with the bitter smell of herbs. Huo He sat on the hospital bed, his upper body bare, blood seeping through the bandages wrapped around his chest.

Chuanlan's fingertips hovered above the wound, trembling unlike those of a skilled medical ninja.

"Who hurt him? I'm going to settle the score with him!"

Huo He immediately jumped down to stop her, but the movement was too big and aggravated her wound. She gasped in pain but still stubbornly stood in front of the door.

"No way! It's because I'm not as skilled. It would be too embarrassing for you to stand up for me!"

Chuan Lan's eyes welled up with tears, blurring her vision. Huo He hurriedly reached out to wipe away her tears, his fingertips rough yet incredibly gentle.

"You still care about losing face at a time like this? You deserve to be in pain!" She cried and laughed at the same time, and he took the opportunity to pull her into his arms.

The sound of a heartbeat came through the bandages, vivid and passionate, like an inextinguishable fire.

Cherry blossoms fell like snowflakes.

Huo He lingered under the tree, a few petals clinging to his black hair. Chuan Lan deliberately walked quietly behind him and suddenly patted his shoulder.

"You scared me to death! What are you doing?"

Fire Core sprang up like a startled cat, his Sharingan eyes widening into round pupils. He stammered for a long time, his cheeks flushed red, "I...I, that."

Chuan Lan tilted her head to look at him, then suddenly had a flash of inspiration, "You're not going to confess your feelings to me, are you?"

Huo He froze, then jumped up as if his hair had stood on end, "How is this possible! I..."

"Oh, I see. I'll go find the smell of medicine then!"

She turned to leave, but was pulled back by a strong force. Huo He's arm tightened around her waist like an iron hoop, and his voice was muffled in her hair, full of gritted teeth and aggrieved tone.

"Don't go looking for the smell of medicine!"

"Why?"

“Because…” he tightened his arms around her, his hot breath brushing against her ear, “because you are mine.”

Memories recede like the tide.

Darkness enveloped the room once more. Chuan Lan knelt on the floor, her palms pressed against the cold floor, tears splashing into a small puddle.

Fire Core stood at the boundary between moonlight and shadow, its translucent body gleaming with a faint blue light.

He smiled, the lines at the corners of his eyes as gentle as when he was alive, only his pupils no longer held the crimson of Sharingan.

She reached out to touch him, but her fingertips passed right through his body; the embrace that had always warmed her was now unable to transmit even a trace of warmth.

"I'm sorry, I didn't come back alive."

Huo He's voice was as soft as the wind, carrying the ethereal quality unique to the Pure Land. He tried to stroke her hair, but his hand could only hover in the air.

Chuan Lan shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You did nothing wrong; it was just fate!"

The phantom of the Fire Core gave a wry smile.

"I was summoned back from the Pure Land by a forbidden technique... In any case, I am grateful to the person who used the forbidden technique, at least it makes up for the regret of not being able to see you one last time."

He made his habitual gesture of patting her head, even though he could no longer touch her.

"Please don't leave me, Fire Core, I really miss you!"

Chuan Lan collapsed forward, but passed right through his body and crashed heavily to the ground. The wooden floor made a dull thud, and his knees ached terribly, but it was nothing compared to the pain of his heart being torn apart.

The fire core's form began to dissipate, like fireflies scattered by the wind.

"Still crying so easily... You need to take good care of yourself, you're my favorite Kawahara-sama..."

His voice faded into the distance, and the last few words were almost inaudible.

Take care, my love.

"ah--!!!"

A piercing wail tore through the night sky. Chuan Lan curled up on the ground, her fingernails digging deep into the floor, her knuckles turning white from the effort.

Tears mixed with blood welled up from his eyes, leaving grotesque marks on his pale face.

Outside the window, a blood moon hangs high in the sky.

Somewhere in the Uchiha clan's territory, you stand in the shadows of a corridor, your Mangekyou Sharingan reflecting the red moon, holding another identical talisman in your hand, a gloomy smile curving your lips.

"As expected... only obsession can summon the dead."

Ban appeared silently behind you. "You gave her false hope."

You chuckled softly, crushing the talisman in your palm. The ashes leaked through your fingers and were swept away by the night wind.

"No... I gave her the most genuine despair."

Tobirama Senju's fingers tapped out a dull rhythm on the intelligence scroll.

The candlelight cast his shadow on the wall, and the still-wet ink on the scroll pierced his eyes: the Uchiha clan is holding a ghost marriage today, and Elder Kawarashi and her deceased husband, Fire Core, have completed the ceremony.

“Madmen,” he said coldly, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the name, leaving ink stains on his fingertips. “They’re all madmen.”

Five days ago, Uchiha Ryohei committed suicide for Senju Momoka by setting himself on fire in the quarantine zone; today, Uchiha Kawaran held the rotting corpse and completed his wedding.

Not to mention Madara Uchiha, the way that man looked at Nagi Uchiha was like a dragon staring at the only treasure under its claws.

This family has long been steeped in a curse.

Chapter 73·Dog Training (1)

"They can be fearless for love, and naturally they can be relentless in their hatred."

Tobirama's voice echoed in the empty council hall. The crystal ball in front of him reflected the scene of the Uchiha clan's territory. In the misty morning, the white kimono looked like a mourning garment, and the memorial tablet replaced the groom.

The twisted sense of ritual sent a chill down his spine, yet strangely... he understood.

Just like the stabbing pain that surged in his chest every time he saw Uchiha Nagi.

The image in the crystal ball suddenly flickered, and in the instant the mist dissipated, he saw Uchiha Nagi standing on the steps of the shrine, her Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan glowing with an eerie red in the morning light.

Her black hair was ruffled by the wind, revealing a section of her pale nape, where a faint bite mark was visible—

The crystal ball was suddenly flipped over, and Tobirama's breathing became heavy for a moment, his knuckles turning white from the force.

He loathed this uncontrolled restlessness, and even more loathed that he had, for a moment, envied Uchiha Madara for being able to openly leave his mark on that skin.