Naraku returned his consciousness from the spiritual world to his physical body.
He gently moved his eyelids and slowly opened his eyes.
It was pitch black all around, save for a single candle lit by the bedside.
"It is possible to light a candle underground... is the oxygen supply that abundant?"
On the other side of the room, Madara observed Naraku's perplexed expression.
Based on Madara's preconceived notions, this was the confusion of someone who had suffered a series of major blows.
He seemed unsure of where he was or where he was headed in the future.
That face was so similar to Izuna's.
Seeing such an expression on it made him swallow the harsh words often poised on his lips.
By the time the words actually came out, they had transformed into a greeting.
"How do you feel?"
"?"
Pretending to have just noticed someone else's presence, Naraku slowly turned his head to look.
At the other end of the room sat a white-haired old man on the verge of death.
The candlelight illuminated his profile, allowing Naraku to see his Three-Tomoe Sharingan.
"Who are you?"
"I..." The old man paused. "I am just an ordinary Uchiha."
"Ah, is that so?"
You're quite good at acting, Uchiha Madara.
Naraku, barefoot, got out of bed and walked toward him, step by step.
He gradually adjusted his posture and the way he gazed at his target.
From Madara's perspective, the approaching youth looked more and more like Izuna.
It made even Madara himself feel a little confused and dazed.
His rationality repeatedly told him that this kid merely bore a striking resemblance.
Yet, his emotions stirred his few remaining feelings, churning like a stormy sea that was difficult to calm.
It wasn't until the youth came close that he saw those dark, lifeless eyes.
They were numb, indifferent, and pained, like broken porcelain clumsily reassembled.
The shape remained, but the cracks were unerasable.
The youth no longer resembled Izuna, who had always been lively and cheerful in front of him.
Fortunately, he finally doesn't look like Izuna anymore.
Madara thought with relief, his turbulent emotions beginning to subside.
Then, he heard the youth ask a question in a clear voice.
It was flat and stiff, and something he had never expected to hear from him.
"Grandpa, you look... not very happy?"
Madara's breathing stopped for a moment.
"Brother... you look... cough, cough... not very happy...?"
Back then, when Izuna was gravely wounded and dying, he had decided to give his eyes to Madara.
He had looked at his solemn brother and made the same joking remark.
Madara froze in place.
All his prepared words got stuck in his throat, solidifying into an unexpected dry cough.
The youth walked up to him and crouched down.
Even without light in his eyes, his handsome features still conveyed concern for the old man in front of him.
But when the youth tried to control his expression, wanting to show the comforting smile he had mastered, he failed.
He only managed to pull at the corners of his mouth, creating a slightly strange arc.
He no longer knew how to smile.
Even the feigned smile eventually vanished from his face.
The youth realized his abnormality and, after several attempts, silently gave up.
Uchiha Madara, the Ghost of the Ninja World, who had been proud his entire life, suddenly wanted to flee in dismay for the second time.
The first time was when Izuna died.
He had felt an incredibly strong desire to escape this false world full of lies.
And the second time was now.
In the youth's hazy, dim eyes, Madara could clearly see his own reflection.
That reflection gazed at him, revealing a fact that had just been deliberately ignored.
You personally destroyed this "Izuna"... You made Uchiha Naraku no longer like Izuna.
Upon being exposed, sudden anger surged in Madara's heart, and he retorted sharply.
"But this was never Izuna!"
...Right.
The reflection nodded, then shook its head.
But he could have been more similar...
Whether as a descendant or a reincarnation, no matter what identity he stayed by your side, he could have been exactly like Izuna.
"Shut up!"
Madara, exasperated, wanted to avert his gaze.
He no longer wanted to see that reflection.
However, his body was controlled by a strange emotion.
He was frozen rigidly in place, staring at the reflection, unable to even move his eyes.
He could only bluster and scold with false bravado.
"These are all necessary sacrifices for the Eye of the Moon Plan... Uchiha Naraku is the best pawn!"
"If he's not similar, then he's not similar; what use are these things for the plan?!"
The reflection, however, seemed to speak.
There's no such thing as best or not best; how can you guarantee that a better pawn won't appear later?
...Admit it, Uchiha Madara.
It smiled silently, saying word by word.
You regret it.
The fog in his mind dispersed along with the illusion.
When Madara came to his senses, he found himself gasping for breath, clutching fragments of the stone armrest tightly in his hand.
The sharp edges of the fragments cut his palm, the stone soaking in the bright red blood gushing from the wound.
The youth was squatting silently beside him, trying to pry open his hand.
He unconsciously loosened his grip a little.
The other took the opportunity to gently pry open his withered fingers one by one.
He picked out the stone fragments from the bloody mess and discarded them on the ground.
A faint green glow flickered in the dark underground space.
It became the only trace of life in this desolate world.
Madara's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.
It took him a long time to ask the first question.
"Aren't you afraid?"
The youth continued to treat his withered hand, not looking up.
His voice was almost devoid of emotion.
"If Grandpa wanted to harm me, he wouldn't have saved me."
The dull, indifferent tone caused a few traces of irritation to crawl into Madara's heart.
He looked down at every detail of Naraku's body, trying to extract the truth from his reaction.
"Perhaps I want to do something to you while you're still alive?"
"Like making you stay here and serve me until I die of old age."
He paused, pointing to several dark figures hanging at the very edge of the room.
"Or perhaps, I'll use you as fertilizer."
No matter how he threatened, the boy still showed no fear.
He only replied softly, "Repaying a life-saving kindness is only right."
At this point, the wound had been treated.
The youth looked up, his face serene.
"But I'm sorry, I still have many things to do and cannot stay here."
"If all my tasks are completed and I am still alive, then I will certainly return."
"What did you say?"
Madara's already restless mood instantly became even more displeased, and he retorted.
"What could be more important than me?"
The youth looked at him, responding with his empty gaze.
"Those things are more meaningful than my life."
Madara sneered.
"So my 'life-saving kindness' isn't a high enough priority, is that right?"
Only silence answered him.
And silence was a tacit acknowledgment.
Madara withdrew his hand and leaned back against the cold stone chair.
His voice was colder than ever before.
"Hmph, do you really think you can leave here?"
"This is the seam between the underworld and reality, and you are already a living dead person, wandering between the human world and hell."
Crimson light ignited in his eyes.
"Don't even think about leaving."