Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

Page 241

The next second, before you could respond, he lowered his head and kissed her again.

This kiss was completely different from the one during the day; it was full of undisguised aggression and possessiveness, as if the thin veil called "mission" had finally been torn away.

Clothes rustled and whispered as the belt was deftly untied, revealing the smooth, supple skin beneath. The cool air touched the skin, sending a shiver down her spine, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of another burning body.

You are embracing each other honestly right now.

Itachi's hands seemed to possess magic, or perhaps he had rehearsed it countless times in his mind, precisely sweeping over every sensitive area of ​​your body with an undeniable sense of possession, touching wantonly.

"Itachi...?" Your voice was filled with disbelief, shock, and a hint of panic. You tried to push him away, but it was futile against his seemingly slender body that actually contained terrifying power. "Do you know what you're doing?"

You can't believe it, he actually...lost control at this moment?

But Itachi was clearly not out of control; every move he made was driven by a strong sense of purpose and control. He simply... didn't want to endure it any longer.

"It's necessary for the mission." He nibbled on your earlobe, exhaling warm breath, easily silencing your doubts.

This excuse is so weak, yet so irrefutable.

Before you could say anything more, he picked you up and gently placed you on the soft, spacious bed.

The sudden shift in perspective and the feeling of complete exposure fill you with shame, and you instinctively raise your arm to cover his dark eyes that seem to see through everything.

It's as if not being able to see it makes me feel a little better by deceiving myself.

For Itachi Uchiha, this was nothing short of a perverse pleasure; his vision was temporarily deprived, but his other senses became increasingly acute.

The smooth touch of your fingertips against my skin, your suppressed breaths in my ear, the cool fragrance and arousing scent mingling in my nostrils... everything fuels an even deeper longing.

You unconsciously shrank back, trying to escape the overwhelming waves, but Itachi easily grabbed your ankle and pulled you back into his embrace without any resistance.

“Again…” His voice was hoarse beyond recognition, “This is… a mission.”

The final struggle was completely swallowed up by all the faint pleas and sobs.

Reason collapsed, and boundaries blurred.

Mission and personal desire, performance and reality, are completely intertwined and entangled at this moment, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other.

[Forbidden 1V1: Tanuki? Obito] — "Compared to Him"

On the night of February 9th, the lights were still on on the top floor of the Rain Village tower. Outside the window, the incessant patter of rain tapped against the glass, making the interior even more silent.

You sit alone behind a large desk, a pen between your fingers, intently revising a thick document spread out on the table: "Detailed Rules for the Implementation of Welfare Policies for Post-War Orphans and Impoverished Children in the Land of Rain."

The warm yellow light of the desk lamp outlined your focused profile, and your long eyelashes cast a light shadow under your eyes. This tranquility was soon broken by a sudden force.

Without warning, the space beside him began to twist and rotate, forming a strange vortex.

Your hand holding the pen paused for a moment, but you didn't look up, as if you were already used to this kind of unpredictable appearance.

A figure wearing an orange single-eyed mask and a black robe slowly emerged. Uchiha Obito appeared silently beside you, so close that you could almost feel the temperature of each other's bodies.

He didn't speak or make any unnecessary movements, but simply tilted his head slightly, his black eye peeking out through the hole in his mask, staring at you without blinking.

His gaze was indescribably complex, a blend of extreme focus, a certain melancholic obsession, and a hint of... childish grievance.

The monotonous sound of rain still pattered against the window, and the pen nib lingered on the paper for too long, causing a small blot of ink to spread.

You finally raised your eyes, your cool gaze meeting those stubborn eyes. Your tone was flat and even carried a hint of impatience at being disturbed, "Are you bored?"

A sound that was almost a hum came from under the mask, followed by Obito's altered voice, which sounded somewhat dull but unexpectedly revealed the original boyish quality, with an indescribable awkwardness and accusation, "Tomorrow is my birthday."

You raised an eyebrow, seemingly somewhat surprised that he would specifically bring this up.

He put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and said in a businesslike tone, "Oh? Happy birthday. How would you like to celebrate? Should I inform everyone that we're having a party for you tomorrow night?"

Your tone sounds like you're arranging a routine work schedule.

"I don't want to." Obito refused bluntly, his voice clearly showing his displeasure.

That eye remained fixed on you, as if trying to etch every subtle reaction you made into its mind.

You took a deep breath, your face falling completely, and looked at him irritably. "What exactly do you want? Just say it."

I know him too well. This awkward appearance, with its strong sense of demand, must have some ulterior motive.

Obito remained silent for a few seconds, as if gathering his courage or brewing some kind of emotion.

Finally, he almost gritted his teeth and made his request, word by word, with an undeniable stubbornness: "You will stay with me tomorrow."

It's not a request, it's a demand.

Without even thinking, you coldly refused, "Change it."

The refusal was so decisive, as if even a second of consideration was superfluous, and this attitude instantly stung Obito's most sensitive and obsessive nerve.

He suddenly took a step forward, his aura instantly becoming dangerous and oppressive, and his exposed eyes churned with hurt, anger, and an almost insane jealousy.

"Why not?!" His voice was sharp and accusatory. "You can spend a whole day alone with Madara on his birthday! Why can't I?"

These words acted like a fuse, instantly igniting your anger and sense of offense. You stood up abruptly, meeting his approaching gaze without fear, a cold, mocking smile playing on your lips.

"Obito Uchiha, get this straight! Madara is my lover, and who are you? Just one of my many admirers. Why should I spend an entire day of my birthday alone with you? You think..."

Before he could finish speaking—

"Ugh!" Obito suddenly struck, a large hand wearing a black glove forcefully covering your mouth, silencing all the more hurtful words that were about to be uttered!

He was incredibly strong, so strong that you could barely breathe, and your jaw was pinched painfully.

Their bodies were pressed close together, and you could clearly feel his chest heaving violently with anger and agitation, as well as the frighteningly hot body temperature that emanated through the fabric.

"You scumbag!" Obito's voice was forced out through clenched teeth, trembling violently. "How could you say such a thing?"

His eyes were churning with a tidal wave of emotions: hatred for your heartless words, a frantic obsession with unrequited love, and a dark desire, almost destructive, to drag you completely into his world.

"Anyway!" He whispered in your ear, his voice sharp yet strangely seductive, issuing his final ultimatum: "You're coming with me first thing tomorrow morning."

As if to emphasize the irreversibility of the situation, he lowered his voice, making it even more dangerous, "Otherwise... I'll stand with you in front of Madara..."

These words struck you like a thunderbolt. You opened your eyes wide in disbelief, staring at the crazed man before you. The obsession and determination in his eyes told you that this was far more than just a threat.

He's really capable of doing it! That madman! He's not afraid of death at all, and he doesn't care about the consequences!

After saying this last sentence, Obito gave you a deep look, and then the surrounding space began to distort again, the vortex quickly swallowing his figure.

In the blink of an eye, only the suffocating threatening words and the lingering energy fluctuations in the air remained, faintly echoing in the room.

The force covering your lips suddenly disappeared, and you took a step back, only managing to steady yourself by holding onto the edge of the table.

"This... madman!"

Finally unable to hold back any longer, he slammed his hand hard on the heavy desk, making a dull thud. The documents on the desk shook, and the pen holder tipped over and rolled to the floor.

I knew he was obsessed with me, but I never imagined it had reached such a level of fanaticism and madness! Not only is he fearless, but he even dares to threaten me in this way!

Outside the window, the rain seemed to be getting heavier, just like your heartbeat in disarray.

Tomorrow...February 10th.

What should have been an ordinary day suddenly became fraught with danger because of his madness.

This forced birthday celebration is definitely not as simple as it seems.

You barely slept a wink all night, your mind replaying Obito's insane threats, and even harboring a sliver of unrealistic fantasy.

Perhaps, people celebrating their birthdays are always a little different? Maybe they'll take off their masks, change into casual clothes, and become... a little more like human beings?

When space distorted as promised, and that figure stepped out from within, all illusions shattered instantly.

He still wore that signature ghostly attire, as if he had crawled out of hell, with a mask covering all his expressions, leaving only a single, obsessive eye.

The large black robe wrapped him completely from head to toe, exuding a cold and unapproachable aura.

He hasn't changed at all, as if the concept of birthdays is just another excuse for him to pester and demand.

"I'm leaving." His voice came through the mask, deep and undeniable, and he reached out and grabbed your wrist.

The force was immense, squeezing your bones until they ached, as if they were afraid you would disappear in the next second.

You frowned, trying to break free, but to no avail. You cursed inwardly and could only be forcibly dragged into the vortex of divine power.

After a dizzying spin, the scene before me was not the gloomy corner I had imagined, but rather the site of a spring festival.

The sun shines warmly, cherry blossoms flutter down, and the cries of vendors and the laughter of tourists mingle together, creating a vibrant atmosphere full of life.

This contrasted absurdly and jarringly with Obito's lifeless attire.

Before you could even react, Obito forcibly dragged you along and began a series of rituals that you couldn't understand at all.

He first drags you to a ball-throwing stall, roughly shoves a red embroidered ball into your hand, and then gestures for you to throw it with an almost fierce look in his eyes.

You find it utterly absurd, but under the watchful gaze of those eyes that seem to say "you'll regret it if you don't do as I say," you can only throw the ball out perfunctorily.

Although he missed, Obito seemed satisfied, as if he had completed an important step.

Then, he made you sit on a stool at a wonton stall and ordered two bowls of so-called "Three Lives Wonton".

A steaming bowl is placed in front of you, but he doesn't move, he just stares at you. Under his intense gaze, you barely manage to eat two bites without tasting anything, and his aura softens for a moment.

Finally, he somehow produced a small pot of peach blossom wine and forcefully held it to your lips. The sweet wine mixed with the fragrance of flower petals, but you choked and coughed because of his rough feeding method. A few drops of wine slid down your chin and soaked into your clothes.

Until this moment, watching Obito's eyes through the mask intently watching your swallowing motion, you finally belatedly realized that things were far more wrong than you had imagined!

What he replicated... was the day you spent with Madara Uchiha in another town last year on his birthday! Every detail, even the food they ate, was exactly the same!

“You…!” You abruptly shoved away his hand holding the wine jug, glaring at him fiercely, your eyes filled with shock, anger, and a chilling sense of being spied on and imitated.

Faced with your anger, Obito did not back down; instead, it was as if he had finally received the long-awaited response.

He released the wine jug, and his black-gloved hand gently caressed your cheek, which was flushed with anger.

“Finally…” His voice carried a morbid satisfaction and sigh, “Finally you’re willing to show me some emotion? Anger or whatever… I thought you would remain numb to me like a puppet all day.”

His touch was gentle, yet it sent a chill down your spine.

"What exactly happened? Why did this happen..." You wanted to question and curse sharply, but when you met the unfulfilled desire and obsessive longing in those eyes, you swallowed back even harsher words.

You have an absurd intuition that insulting him might play right into his hands, or even excite him more.

“Exactly the same, isn’t it?” Obito chuckled softly, his laughter sounding somewhat distorted through his mask. “The day you were with him… every smile, every glance, everything you did… I was right there, watching you.”

He grabbed your hand and forced it against his chest, which was covered by a black robe.

Even through a layer of fabric, you can feel the heart pounding violently and frantically beneath it, like a wild beast on the verge of losing control.

"Are you crazy?!" You tried to pull your hand away forcefully, the sensation of skin touching you extremely uncomfortable. "You do nothing all day but stare at me!"

This constant, omnipresent feeling of being watched makes you feel suffocated.

Perhaps provoked by his sickly appearance, or perhaps because you had nowhere to vent your nameless anger, you abruptly ripped off his annoying mask!

Beneath the mask, the darkness and obsession in his eyes completely shattered his handsome features, leaving only a chilling madness.

Looking at his face, the pent-up anger and frustration instantly found an outlet. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

"Slap!" The crisp sound of a slap was not out of place against the backdrop of the noisy festival. Obito's face was turned to one side, and a red finger mark quickly appeared on his fair skin.

He showed no anger whatsoever. He even slowly turned his head, pressed the tip of his tongue against the inside of his slapped cheek, and then... he actually chuckled softly.

The laughter grew louder and louder, carrying a kind of frenzied joy and pleasure.

“Continue…” He looked at you, his eyes shining with an unsettling light, full of encouragement and expectation, “Take this opportunity to vent all your frustrations and anger. It’s okay… Anyway, I’ll do everything I need to do for you today… so you won’t be even angrier afterward?”

This unyielding attitude, even enjoying your abuse, completely broke you down, shattering all your composure and self-control at that moment.

"How could there be a guy like you! I must have had the worst luck in the world! I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have met you in that dilapidated cave!"

You were just saying it in anger, out of extreme rage, not trying to deliberately provoke that past. You know it's his scar.

Of course, Obito knew you were just saying that out of anger, but when he heard the word "cave," the manic smile in his eyes cooled down a bit, replaced by a deep shadow of gloom and pain.

Although it disappeared very quickly, the unease and an even darker possessiveness swelled rapidly.

“What a pity…” He slowly approached, his voice becoming low and dangerous, “It’s too late to say these things now.”

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly reached out and ruthlessly pulled you into his arms!

You were caught off guard and stumbled into his hard, cold black robe. His masculine scent, mixed with a faint smell of gunpowder and obsessive desire, instantly enveloped you.

You look up and meet his eyes, which are so close to yours.

There was no laughter left, only bottomless darkness and a despairing desire for control.

As you gazed at him with a mixture of helplessness, anger, and a hint of fear, Obito chuckled contentedly, a dull tremor rumbling through his chest.