Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

I started to become like her.

He carried out his missions without expression, killed without expression, and watched his former kin wail in the flames without expression.

The hawks say I'm cold-blooded, and my old subordinates call me ruthless.

But they don't know that I'm just imitating her.

Imitate her indifference, imitate her decisiveness, imitate her...the back view that no longer stops for anyone.

If even pain could be replicated, wouldn't that bring us closer to her?

I locked all my emotions into the kaleidoscope's illusion, where Su is still alive, Nagi still smiles, and I... can still love her without any reservations.

But the reality is that all that's left between us is a zero-degree silence.

Sometimes, I would sneak into her room late at night.

I just stood at the door, looking at her sleeping profile, the moonlight outlining her features, like caressing a cold statue.

I wanted to touch her, to tell her, "Don't bear this alone, I'm here for you."

But as soon as he lifted his finger, it fell limply back down.

What qualifications do I have?

A useless person who couldn't even be saved by Su, a weakling who couldn't even awaken the Kaleidoscope... what right does he have to say he loves her?

Death came more peacefully than I had imagined.

I lay in her arms, blood spilling from the corner of my mouth, staining her pale fingertips red. Her tears fell on my face, burning hot and almost scalding my skin.

“Lengxi…”, she called my name.

How ridiculous! It wasn't until this moment that I finally dared to look her in the eye.

"This is fine...it's good."

I tried to force a smile, but I didn't even have the strength.

Love, regret, guilt... all fade away little by little with life.

The only thing I can't take with me is the memory of that girl who reached out her hand to me under the moonlight in the mass grave.

Now, I am finally free.

No more guilt, no more silence, no more...suppressing that love.

In the next life... please don't let me meet you again, otherwise... I'll fall in love with you again, and then... I won't be able to save you.

I have no regrets in this life.

Hashirama Senju – The Dream of Planting the Sun

My father scolded me for being naive again today.

When his fist slammed onto the conference table, it shook the newly opened cherry blossoms outside the window, and the pink and white petals drifted into the teacup like a drowned goldfish.

I stared blankly at that petal, thinking that if I could use Wood Release to create a cherry blossom forest that would never wither, could the children of my clan play in the rain of blossoms forever?

"Hashirama!" His father's voice boomed like lightning in his ears, "What are you daydreaming about again?"

I scratched my head and laughed out loud: "I'm thinking about how to make the flowers in our tribe bloom more brightly."

The sound of the elders sighing in unison was quite amusing, like a group of frogs being stomped flat.

I squatted by the river watching the tadpoles. They were black and glistening, their tails swishing back and forth as they swam clumsily but diligently.

My father said they wouldn't survive the summer, but I didn't believe him. So I dug a small pond and secretly scattered breadcrumbs in it every day.

"Big brother! You're doing something pointless again!" Tobirama exclaimed angrily.

But that morning, when I saw the first tadpole grow its hind legs, the whole forest was glowing. It turned out that the way life struggles to break free of its cocoon was more magnificent than any ninjutsu.

"If only we didn't have to fight!" I said to Watama, who was poking a beetle with a kunai. "We could build sandcastles with the Uchiha kids, and their fire-style techniques could roast sweet potatoes!"

Wajian rolled his eyes. "Big brother's dreaming again!"

When I was twelve, I saved an Uchiha child on the battlefield.

His eyes were red as he tried to kill me, but his kunai trembled like leaves in the wind. I broke off a cherry blossom branch and handed it to him. He froze, looking just like a startled little animal.

"Next time we meet, we'll be enemies." He tripped and fell as he ran away.

My father whipped my back with a rattan cane until it was lacerated and bleeding. "Kindness will kill the whole clan!"

But at night, as I touched my swollen wound, I dreamt of that Uchiha child smiling at me under a mountain full of cherry blossoms.

"Peace? The hatred between the Senju and Uchiha clans can fill the Naka River!" My father slapped me so hard I fell to the floor of the council chamber.

I touched my swollen face and looked at the moon in the jar, and suddenly realized that it really resembled the Sharingan of the Uchiha clan. They were both round, both bright and shiny, both...

"Lord Hashirama!" A clansman's panicked voice interrupted his thoughts, "Young Master Kawarama, he..."

When I rushed to the door, all I saw was a charred little hand. The child had recently said he wanted to learn my Wood Release technique, but now he can no longer build sandcastles.

It turns out that hatred is not a river, but a wildfire that burns everything.

But I still want to be that fool who cups water in his bare hands.

When I lie on the rooftop at night looking at the stars, the vines that grow from the Wood Release will gently wrap around my wrists.

They told me how many bones were buried in the soil, and I told them how many flowering trees would grow there in the future.

Sometimes the spots would suddenly appear, and we would all lie side by side counting the shooting stars. Those fleeting points of light were just like lives extinguished on a battlefield.

"Hashirama," he suddenly spoke one day, "What if, after the village is established, someone still starts a war?"

I pointed to the saplings that I had just nurtured with Wood Release, "Then let's plant more trees. If one isn't enough, let's plant a whole area. If one generation isn't enough, let's plant ten generations."

He chuckled, but before leaving, he used fire magic to dry the water accumulated at the base of the sapling.

Madara always says that my brain is full of mushrooms, but every time I use Wood Release to create small mushrooms and give them to the orphans on the battlefield, he has secretly slipped rice balls into the children's hands as well.

Once I saw it with my own eyes: that guy who always had a stern face used fire-style techniques to roast mushrooms for a starving child. He ended up roasting the mushrooms into charcoal, but the child actually cried and said it was delicious.

"What are you laughing at?" Ban stared at me suspiciously.

"Remember your grilled mushrooms?" I wiped away tears of laughter. "How about I teach you how to control the heat sometime?"

He was so angry that he chased me with a powerful fireball and burned three streets. How wonderful, such a vibrant life.

If everyone could chase after the sun with smiles, instead of lying in a pool of blood with empty, hollow eyes...

It rained heavily the day Ban died.

I knelt in the ruins of the Valley of the End, digging with my bare hands at the headband buried in mud. My fingernails were split open, but I didn't feel any pain. I dug out half of the bloodstained Uchiha clan crest, the one I had pinned to his collar years ago.

“Look, Ban…” I held up my tattered tribal emblem to the pouring rain, “Our village… now has swings…”

The thunder swallowed the sob.

Tobirama always said I was ridiculously naive.

But look—

At the market in the early morning, a little girl from the Uchiha clan was handing tomatoes to a child from the Senju clan.

At the ninja academy, the Hyuga and Sarutobi kids are vying to see who can swing the highest on the swing set.

My office window was smashed again, this time by a ninja duel between Shimura and the Aburame boys...

Like a dream from which I will never wake up.

Many years later, when my cells blossomed into a new sea of ​​trees in the bodies of my descendants, I finally understood that the most innocent dreams often require the most passionate people to dedicate their lives to sowing them.

Look, the sunflower I planted has sprouted!

Tobirama Senju – Forbidden Technique: Impure World Reincarnation

In the reflection of the experimental equipment, I could always see the rain from that night.

When Senju Jiro's blood splattered on my face, it was still warm. His fingers were gripping my shoulders tightly, pushing me like a shield towards the gleaming blade.

I betrayed the teacher I had respected for thirteen years without hesitation when faced with death.

It was the sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh.

But the pain didn't come. I opened my eyes and saw the cold light of the katana piercing Jiro's chest, as well as the Sharingan eyes of the wielder.

Rainwater rolled down her eyelashes, like tears of blood dripping onto my stiff face.

The name Uchiha Nagi later became a poison that I would repeatedly chew on in my midnight dreams.

Her swordsmanship was so precise that every strike was calculated down to the millimeter, and every dodge seemed to foresee the future.

As the circle of the Thousand Hands shrank to its smallest size, she suddenly looked at me. In that instant, I was certain she saw through all my shock, shame, and...some kind of inappropriate excitement.

I finally pieced together everything about her.

The old group's leader of assassins, the hawkish elder, and the "Tanuki-sama" mentioned by the nobles... intelligence scrolls were spread out on the table, like dissecting a beautiful corpse.

The ink was still wet, and there was her usual bitter poison, extracted from wisteria flowers, which was deadly and elegantly terrifying.

As I stroked the scroll recording her killing of Senju Jiro, I suddenly chuckled softly.

It turns out that our first meeting was nothing more than a trivial footnote in her life.

I burned all the investigation reports about her.

The moment the flames engulfed the pages, the ink twisted into the shape of her wielding a sword. The ash stuck to her fingertips was hotter than the Flying Thunder God kunai. It turned out that there really were people like this in the world, whose very names could burn one's throat.

—Uchiha Nagi.

I calculated seventy-three routes that would allow me to 'accidentally' meet her.

She would come to test her sword every Wednesday after the third protruding rock upstream of the Naga River. She would pass through the western corridor of the Daimyo's mansion in the Land of Fire on the seventh day of every month.

The perfect place is the border canyon of the Frost Kingdom, where the rugged cliffs would force her to slow down her teleportation speed, giving me enough time to see the arc of her hair fluttering.

"Haunting spirit." She gave me an extra half-second of attention today, and as she pierced my ear with a kunai, she snapped off a few strands of white hair.

"The white hair of a thousand hands..." She squinted, her eyes resembling the demon the nobles feared most. "How many marks have you left on me?"

I didn't answer. Should I tell her that I secretly retrieve the kunai she left behind after each mission? Those metals were arranged in a strange matrix in the laboratory's freezer, emitting a resonant hum in the dead of night.

Her disgust came without any reason.

Perhaps it was because I deliberately used Lightning Release to destroy the hot spring inn she had booked, or perhaps it was because I always preemptively eliminated the targets she had her eye on on the battlefield.

But when she used her fire-style technique to burn half of my hair, I actually laughed out loud amidst the exploding flames. Look, she's finally willing to look at me properly.

"Is Senju-kun free lately?"

At the Wind Kingdom meeting, she crushed my disguise in front of everyone, and my true form emerged from the shadows, my fingers still holding the tea snacks I had just taken from her table, red bean paste, sweet to the point of being bitter.

"I can't compare to Lord Li Nu's busy schedule." I deliberately used the honorifics of nobles to provoke her, and sure enough, I saw half a blade flash from her sleeve.

We can coordinate perfectly during missions, using combined ninjutsu to flatten half of the Land of Lightning, but when we're alone, even the simplest conversation feels like we're throwing explosive tags at each other.

My older brother said it was the destiny of the Senju and Uchiha clans, but only I knew that it was nothing more than a coward's clumsy trick of using hatred to mask his love.

It's okay if you hate me.

In this chaotic world, to be able to serve as a whetstone for each other is already the greatest mercy the gods have shown me.

My older brother always advised me not to provoke the Uchiha.

He didn't understand that it was precisely the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood that stood between the two races that made the chase safe.

I can openly study her sword techniques, legitimately collect her combat intelligence, and even gaze at her Sharingan through the smoke of battle.

Under the guise of hatred, even a burning gaze can be disguised as murderous intent.

Under the cold light of the laboratory, her veins appeared an unnatural bluish-purple.

"The cold poison has seeped into your marrow, eroding your seal and depleting your pupils." My knuckles turned white as I gripped the test report, but my voice remained as calm as if I were discussing the weather. "How much longer do you have to live?"

Uchiha Nagi sat on the lab table, swinging her legs as if I had just read someone else's death sentence.

Her loose strands of hair swept across the instrument's surface, casting spiderweb-like shadows on the data screen. "That's enough to wear you out, Senju-kun."

She always does this, speaking the sharpest words in the most nonchalant tone, like a dull knife repeatedly cutting through my reason.

I should have retorted, but I fell silent when I caught a glimpse of the dark red bloodstains on her cuff. It was from her coughing earlier, which she had quickly concealed with illusion magic, but it couldn't escape my perception.