A dazzling light engulfed everything. For a moment, their souls and consciousness were pulled into a strange, dreamlike space where memories faded—and a world shaped by their deepest desires quietly formed around them.
When Zixu opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a hospital bed.
The nurse who had been monitoring him immediately turned and rushed out of the room, startled by his awakening. Zixu took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.
My memory's still intact. Did something happen to that guy, Rosinante…? He scratched his head, then took a moment to examine his surroundings.
It was a small hospital ward with only one window. The sky outside had begun to dim—the sun already dipping below the horizon. The only light in the room flickered above him, swinging slightly as it sputtered. Clearly, it hadn't been maintained in years.
The bed was narrow—just big enough to hold him—and aside from the faint smell of disinfectant, the room gave off an unsettling vibe.
Zixu sat up, rubbing his temple. "This looks like a hospital… but I've never been to one like this before. Feels off…"
Just then, an old man in his sixties walked through the door, a wide grin plastered across his face. In his hands, he carried a bowl filled with some thick, black liquid. The medicinal smell wafting from it hit Zixu immediately, and he instinctively wrinkled his nose.
"Hey there, young man! You're finally awake. Scared the hell outta me," the old man said, chuckling.
He set the bowl down on the cabinet beside the bed and sat beside Zixu. "Your condition's stable now. Keep it up and you'll be back to full health in no time. Just look at your face—color's back already! That's a good sign."
Despite his cheerful tone, the man's smile was... off. Too wide. Too fixed. It looked like someone had slapped a mask onto him—like a puppet trying to act human.
Zixu narrowed his eyes. Isn't the Infinite Tsukuyomi supposed to reflect someone's deepest desires? Why does this place feel so eerie? Did Madara tamper with it somehow...?
Still unsure of his situation—and with no sign of Rosinante—Zixu decided to play along for now and gather information.
"Who are you?" he asked flatly.
The old man smiled wider, if that was even possible. "Drink the medicine first. Then you'll understand everything."
The hairs on Zixu's neck stood up. That smile... it was wrong. Too forced. Too controlled.
Even so, he took the bowl from the old man. But instead of drinking, he simply held it, eyeing the contents with suspicion.
"Can I be discharged?" he asked, attempting to summon his strength—but nothing happened. No chakra, no physical boost. His body felt normal. Human.
He clenched his jaw. "Shit…"
The old man's tone darkened, though his smile didn't falter. "No. You've been unconscious for nearly two weeks. If you leave now, you could suffer complications—or even die. It's best you stay under observation."
His voice grew softer, more patronizing. "You're still caught up in that delusion, aren't you? You keep thinking you've traveled to some fantasy world… but that's all it is. A fantasy. The hit-and-run driver who caused your accident has already been caught. But you? You're still not cured. You fall into comas, mumble nonsense, cut yourself off from reality…"
He leaned in, patting Zixu's shoulder gently. "But now you're getting better. Drink the medicine. It'll help you recover faster."
Just then, the door opened again. The nurse returned, stepping into the room.
Zixu blinked. Her face—it looked familiar. Like a blend of Chinano, Karin, and Hatsuzumi all at once.
They're messing with my mind now, huh? Taking faces from my memories? That's a nice trick.
"This dream's clever," he muttered. "My power's gone, yet no one's making a move. Are they trying to get me to doubt myself?"
He stared coldly at the nurse and old man, unmoved.
The two of them exchanged a look. The nurse let out a sigh and crossed her arms.
"What's the point of clinging to that dream?" she said, her voice sweet, but tinged with sadness. "Time travel, alternate worlds… it's all just a dying man's fantasy."
She reached out, took the bowl from his hands, and placed it back on the table.
"If he doesn't want to drink it, it's fine. Let him decide whether he wants to live in a dream—or face reality."
Zixu didn't respond. He knew the truth.
He was in the Infinite Tsukuyomi.
No amount of manipulation or pity would shake that belief.
"He still thinks we're figments of his fantasy," the nurse muttered with a helpless sigh, staring at Zixu. "Still thinks he's in some kind of Tsukuyomi world…"
Zixu smiled faintly. "Gotta say… the acting's not bad."
They might fool others, but not him. His spirit had been tempered by years of battle. His willpower was something even this illusion couldn't crack. His Haki—his spiritual energy—continued to grow silently within him, shielding his mind.
Suddenly, the world around him began to shift.
In the blink of an eye, he was no longer in the hospital.
He was back in his old house—the very first one he lived in after arriving in the Naruto world.
But something was off.
In the kitchen, Chinano stood in an apron, cradling a large pot. Inside it flopped a fat, still-alive rooster.
Beside her, Karin was tossing in random ingredients with an oddly cheerful look on her face. Meanwhile, Hatsuizumi peeked into the pot, frowned, and quietly walked off—clearly deciding her bugs wouldn't eat whatever was being cooked.
Sara reclined in a rocking chair like a lazy queen. Rosinante was curled up nearby, using the black snake as a pillow. Gaara and Haku were outside organizing an ice-and-sand sculpting contest. Zabuza was, for some reason, punishing his groin again. Neji sipped tea labeled for hair growth only with an expression of dignity.
In the background, the red panda Momohiko led a training session for a bunch of mini summoned beasts, acting like their squad leader.
It was... peaceful. Harmonious.
Everything Zixu once dreamed of.
But he knew it wasn't real.
He clenched his fists. "What a damn shame... all of it's fake. I don't need dreams."
He turned away from the illusion, his voice cold and firm. "I'll make this reality myself."
The scene shattered like glass, dissolving into a thousand pieces.
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