Kakashi stepped into the rift without hesitation.
The scene before him abruptly opened up. The chaotic, distorted colors vanished, replaced by a vast, oppressive space that shimmered faintly, like a sealed inner world.
At the very center of this space, Kakashi immediately spotted Kurenai Yuhi.
Several thick, dark-purple, thorn-like chakra vines bound her tightly, suspending her in midair in a crucifix-like position, her arms spread to either side. Her eyes were tightly shut, elegant brows furrowed in pain, cold sweat soaking her forehead. She had clearly been dragged into a deep mental prison she couldn't escape.
Not far away, a young girl sat quietly.
She looked extremely frail, dressed in a light pink kimono-style robe with a wide sash of the same color tied around her waist. Years of isolation from sunlight and a weak constitution had left her skin pale to the point of sickness.
Her long brown hair was styled asymmetrically—the right side flowing freely over her shoulder like a waterfall, while the left was carefully braided into a long plait. At the base of the braid rested an exquisite ornament marked with a double-ring pattern.
Her light-brown eyes held none of the liveliness expected of someone her age—only an endless void and deep sorrow.
In her left hand, she held a wooden palette. In her right, a paintbrush dipped in dark-purple pigment.
There was no doubt about it.
She was the absolute ruler of this Genjutsu world—the prodigy of the Kurama Clan.
Kurama Yakumo.
"Yo."
Kakashi lifted a hand and gave a casual wave, his voice breaking the suffocating silence.
"Sorry to intrude. Didn't mean to interrupt a teacher–student reunion."
Yakumo froze.
She slowly looked up, the emptiness in her eyes instantly replaced by sharp vigilance.
The brush hovered midair as her gaze locked onto Kakashi's masked face—and the ominous red glow of his Sharingan.
This was her absolute mental domain.
And yet someone had forcibly torn it open and walked in.
"Who are you?"
Yakumo's voice was hoarse, thick with hostility.
"Me?"
Kakashi wasn't angered in the slightest. Instead, he smiled gently.
"Relax. I'm just a shinobi who took a wrong turn somewhere in life."
His gaze swept over the suspended Kurenai before returning to Yakumo's pale face.
"I was just passing by to see if there were any lost lambs that needed a hand."
"Lambs? Saving?"
Those words struck a raw nerve.
A mocking sneer appeared on Yakumo's bloodless face.
"I don't need saving from anyone!"
Before the last word faded, her seemingly fragile wrist suddenly snapped into motion.
She tilted the palette slightly, then dipped the brush into the dark-purple paint and slashed fiercely at the invisible canvas in front of her.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Dozens of thorned vines erupted from the ground like venomous serpents, coiling rapidly up Kakashi's legs. In the blink of an eye, they bound his limbs and torso, hoisting him into the air beside Kurenai.
The sharp wooden thorns scraped against his clothes with a grating sound.
Yet Kakashi didn't even blink.
He glanced at the vines wrapped around him, then calmly looked back down at Yakumo.
"Tying up a guest just because you don't like what he said…"
He sighed lightly.
"You've got quite the temper, kid."
"How could someone like you ever understand my pain?!"
Yakumo's cheeks flushed red with rage.
She clenched her fists, emotions spiraling out of control as she screamed hysterically:
"I just wanted to become a shinobi! I wanted to revive the Kurama Clan! What's wrong with that?!"
Her chest heaved violently, resentment and madness swirling in her eyes.
"And what did Kurenai-sensei do? She didn't support me—she sealed my powers with her own hands!"
Her voice echoed shrilly through the vast space.
"She was jealous! Jealous that my Genjutsu talent surpassed hers, so she tried to destroy me!"
"That's a pretty textbook teenage rebellion speech…"
Kakashi sighed again.
"Shut up! Sink into this world forever!"
Yakumo roared, preparing to summon more thorns to crush him completely.
But in the next instant—
The world rippled.
Like water disturbed by a stone, the scene distorted without warning.
A sharp sting shot through Yakumo's wrists and ankles, followed by a crushing sense of restraint.
She froze.
Slowly, she looked down.
Her pupils shrank in terror.
The dark-purple vines that should have been binding Kakashi were now wrapped tightly around her own limbs, lifting her into the air in the same cruciform position.
The barbs tore into her clothes, biting into her skin.
And where she had been sitting moments ago—
Kakashi stood casually.
He even bent down, picked up the wooden palette and brush she'd dropped, and examined them with idle curiosity.
Their positions had been completely swapped—without her noticing anything at all.
"How… how is this possible?!"
Yakumo's face drained of color, disbelief written across it.
This was her world. Absolute control.
How could someone bypass her awareness and rewrite the rules?
"What did you do to me?! What kind of Jutsu is this?!"
For the first time, panic crept into her voice.
Kakashi casually tossed the brush aside and looked up, the Sharingan glowing with a demonic crimson sheen.
He watched Yakumo struggle, a faint, relaxed smile forming beneath his mask.
"Don't be so shocked."
"It's just a small ocular technique."
The moment his words fell—
An extremely dark chakra surged from the depths of the mental world.
The temperature plummeted.
From Yakumo's shadow, thick black-purple mist billowed outward, rapidly condensing into a grotesque phantom—horned, twisted, and overflowing with malice.
Yakumo went rigid.
She stared at the monster radiating nauseating intent, her voice trembling.
"What… what is that thing?!"
"Hehehehe…"
The demon let out a chilling, rasping laugh. Slowly, it lifted its hideous face and spoke in a voice both intimate and venomous.
"Who am I?"
"I am you, Kurama Yakumo."
The voice of the inner demon—Ido—pierced straight into the most fragile part of her heart.
"Look at these hypocritical Konoha shinobi. All they do is lie and hinder your pursuit of power."
"They all deserve to die."
Its body twisted unnaturally, blood-red eyes gleaming with madness.
"Just like… your meddlesome parents."
"No…"
Yakumo's face turned deathly pale, her mind ringing as if struck by a hammer.
"Remember it! They stopped you. They wouldn't let you become a shinobi. They tried to lock you away forever in that sunless mansion!"
"They deserved to die!"
"So… we burned them to death ourselves, didn't we?"
"Hahahahaha—!"
"No! Stop! It wasn't me! I didn't do it!"
The truth buried deep in her memories burst through her mental defenses.
Fire.
Screams.
"AAAAAAAAAH—!!"
Yakumo let out a heart-rending scream.
Her eyes lost focus as tears mixed with cold sweat streamed down her face.
Under the weight of the truth and the relentless advance of the inner demon, the Kurama Clan's Genjutsu prodigy completely collapsed.
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