Naruto : Blazing Legend

Chapter 35: Chapter 35 : Illusion



Chapter 35: Illusion

Time moved like a snail in this suffocating routine of guard duty. Each day bled into the next—a monotonous cycle of standing at attention, watching shadows move across stone floors, and pretending not to notice the way Hiruzen's eyes lingered on him with calculating interest.

Summer arrived with oppressive humidity that made the ANBU masks feel like burial shrouds. The 39th year of Konoha brought news that rippled through the village like a stone thrown into still water: Hatake Kakashi and Uchiha Obito had applied for early graduation.

The day of their examination arrived with the weight of ceremony. Rei stood in the shadows of the training ground, mask concealing his expression as he watched two children—children—demonstrate skills that would shame grown men. Kakashi, barely six years old, moved with the fluid precision of a blade given human form. Obito, older but still heartbreakingly young, fought with a desperation that spoke to deeper wounds than any physical injury could inflict.

Both lasted over five minutes against their chunin instructor—a feat that should have been impossible at their age.

"I'll never lose to you!" Obito's voice cracked with adolescent bravado. The training Rei had provided showed in his improved technique, though victory remained elusive against Kakashi's natural genius.

"You only won because I was careless," Kakashi replied, his tone carefully neutral. But Rei could see the truth beneath the facade—the boy practiced until his hands bled, driven by pride too fierce for such small shoulders to bear.

Sarutobi Hiruzen watched the examination with paternal pride that felt obscene. Two more child soldiers for his collection, their potential measured in how effectively they could kill.

Monsters, Rei thought, creating monsters to fight other monsters.

---

That night, Rei's apartment felt like a tomb. The walls seemed to press closer with each passing hour, suffocating him with their familiarity.

Tonight, he would finally attempt the experiment he'd been planning for weeks.

The Sharingan's evolution required trauma—genuine, soul-deep anguish that would shatter the barriers between reality and nightmare. But how could one traumatize oneself when consciousness remained aware of the illusion's artificial nature?

The answer lay in dreams.

Rei had spent months crafting the perfect genjutsu, one that would activate only when his mind descended into REM sleep. In dreams, the conscious mind surrendered control, allowing the subconscious to experience fabricated trauma as absolute reality. It was elegant in its simplicity—and potentially lethal in its execution.

He lay on his narrow bed, staring at the ceiling's water stains as minutes crawled past. One hour. Two. His body remained stubbornly alert, adrenaline singing through his veins like electric current.

"Damn it," he muttered, sitting up with frustrated violence. His reflection in the darkened window looked haggard, eyes bloodshot from strain.

Alcohol. The solution struck him with crystalline clarity. In a world without pharmaceutical sleep aids, humanity's oldest depressant would have to suffice.

A shadow clone materialized, transforming into the appearance of an adult before slipping into the night. It returned with sake and grilled meat skewers, the smoky scent filling the apartment with false comfort.

"Pathetic," Rei whispered to himself as he drank. "In my past life, merchants didn't care about age as long as money changed hands. Here, even corruption has standards."

The alcohol burned down his throat, each sip another step toward the precipice. When the bottles sat empty, he collapsed onto his bed, consciousness finally beginning to fray at the edges.

The genjutsu activated like a spider's web snapping closed around a fly.

---

"Stay with me! Don't you dare die on me!"

The voice cut through a symphony of agony. Rei—no, Zhang Lie—felt his consciousness slam back into a body that screamed with fresh trauma. Medical equipment beeped frantically around him, each sound a nail driven into his skull.

The car accident. He remembered now—the screech of brakes, the sickening crunch of metal, the taste of blood filling his mouth as darkness claimed him. But he was alive. Impossibly, miraculously alive.

Two figures sat beside his hospital bed, aged beyond their years by grief and worry. His parents—faces he'd thought he'd never see again, weathered by time but achingly familiar.

"Am I... am I not dead?" The words felt like broken glass in his throat. "Is this my illusion world?"

His mother's face crumpled, tears cutting fresh tracks through makeup she'd applied to hide the evidence of sleepless nights. Her hair had gone gray at the temples, and new lines mapped her features like scars from battles fought in silence.

"What illusion? You scared us to death, you foolish child." Her sobs filled the sterile room, each one a blade twisting in his chest.

His father stood rigid by the window, back turned to hide tears he refused to shed. "Better to die than live as a reckless fool. Why did you have to drive so fast?"

The harsh words sparked an argument that felt brutally, perfectly real. His mother's voice rose in fury, decades of marital frustration pouring out in a torrent of accusation and pain. His father's defensive anger, the way his shoulders shook with suppressed emotion—every detail burned itself into Rei's consciousness with photographic clarity.

This is what I lost, he thought, watching his parents tear each other apart with words born from love and terror. This is what I gave up.

---

Days blurred together in a haze of recovery and rediscovery. The world felt simultaneously foreign and familiar—a life he'd abandoned made manifest once more. His job was gone, naturally. Missing work due to unconsciousness counted as abandonment, regardless of circumstance.

But new opportunities emerged. A delivery driver position with steady pay and reasonable hours. A therapist who helped him process the "delusion" that he'd somehow lived in a world of ninjas and jutsu. Slowly, carefully, his old life reassembled itself around him like a healing wound.

"The Naruto stuff was just your brain trying to cope with the trauma," Dr. Wang explained during one of their sessions. "Escapist fantasies are common after near-death experiences. You're making excellent progress accepting reality."

Reality. The word felt strange in his mouth, like a foreign language he'd once known but had forgotten through disuse.

Months passed. Zhang Lie settled into routines that felt both natural and alien. Work, sleep, meals shared with parents who watched him with the desperate intensity of people afraid to blink. Simple human connections that had seemed impossible in his previous existence.

"Uncle Zhang, the shipment's ready!" Li Ling called from the warehouse, her voice bright with youth and possibility. Fresh from university, she treated him with the casual familiarity of someone who'd never known loss.

"Keep it down," he grumbled good-naturedly, stretching muscles that ached from honest labor rather than combat training. "Sister Ling, you free tonight? Let Uncle give you a... thorough examination."

The account book she hurled at his head carried no lethal intent—just playful annoyance from someone who saw him as human rather than weapon.

"Pervert! I'll report you to HR!" But she was laughing as she said it, and the sound was music he'd forgotten existed.

---

Two months had passed in the dream world when consciousness finally began to surface. In the real world, mere hours had elapsed—the sun climbing toward its zenith while Rei's body lay motionless on his narrow bed.

"Senzo, check on Uchiha Rei," Sarutobi Hiruzen commanded, his voice carrying the edge of concern. "He should have reported hours ago."

Senzo's irritation was palpable even through his mask. The Hokage's favoritism toward the young Uchiha had grown increasingly obvious, and it grated against every principle of operational security he'd been taught.

The journey to the Uchiha compound took minutes that felt like hours. Police force members tracked his movement but didn't interfere—professional courtesy between village operatives, however strained.

Rei's apartment door stood unlocked, a breach of security that sent ice through Senzo's veins. Inside, he found the young ANBU operative sprawled across his bed, breathing shallow and eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids.

"Rei! Wake up!" Senzo shook him roughly, but received no response. A quick examination revealed the truth—powerful genjutsu held the boy's mind in an iron grip, one that had been active for hours.

Impossible, Senzo thought, fear rising in his throat like bile. The Sharingan should protect him from illusions. Unless...

Unless the genjutsu had been self-inflicted.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. Uchiha were known for their tragic pursuit of power, their willingness to sacrifice everything—including sanity—for strength. If Rei had attempted to evolve his Sharingan through artificial trauma...

"You fool," Senzo whispered, gathering the unconscious boy in his arms. "You brilliant, stupid fool."

The hospital lay across the village, but Senzo moved with the desperate speed of someone racing death itself. Genjutsu could kill—not through violence, but through the simple expedient of convincing the brain that the body was dead. If Rei's consciousness remained trapped too long, his mind would accept the illusion as reality.

And Zhang Lie would finally, truly, come home.

---

In the dream world, Zhang Lie laughed at Li Ling's mock outrage, unaware that his other existence hung by the thinnest of threads. For the first time in years—in lifetimes—he felt genuinely happy.

But happiness, like all things, was an illusion.

And illusions, no matter how beautiful, always end.

****************

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