area51novel Chapter 158 The Cruel Truth [4K]
Chapter 158 The Cruel Truth [4K]
Chapter 159 The Cruel Truth [4K]
Dou shuddered, as if he had been whipped.
He suddenly raised his head, his gaze sweeping frantically across Nono's face.
Those empty brown eyes remained unfocused, as if the "thank you" just now was merely the instinct of a walking corpse.
She carried the bowl and numbly moved back into the shadow of the iron gate.
"Kabuto? Why do you look so pale?" Hazuki Murahashi walked over carrying an empty basket, keenly noticing her companion's unusual expression.
She saw that Dou's face was as white as paper in the dim light, fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, and his eyes behind his glasses were flashing intensely.
They even forgot to conceal the immense, almost overflowing pain surging within them.
This is completely unlike the gentle, composed, and always smiling Kabuto Kumamoto he usually is.
"N-nothing." Dou barely managed to squeeze out those two words, his voice terribly dry.
He abruptly lowered his head, avoiding Hazuki's probing gaze, quickened his pace, and hastily scooped up a spoonful of dried vegetables from his hand, pouring it into the bowl of a prisoner at the next cell window.
The movements were quick and hurried, with a kind of uncontrolled panic, the edge of the spoon scraping against the wooden bowl, making a piercing noise.
He needed to do something, anything, to fill the sudden emptiness and panic that had almost torn him in two. Kabuto forced himself to focus on the food in front of him, on the next cell, but he couldn't control the trembling in his fingers.
Dean Nono's haggard, numb, soulless face, his empty eyes that terrified him, and his emotionless "thank you" kept flashing, magnifying, and echoing in his mind.
Each flash was like a heavy hammer blow to the foundation of his beliefs.
Lord Danzo's promise still rings in my ears, as clear as if it were yesterday.
As long as he completes his mission here, as long as he brings back enough valuable intelligence, the Dean will be freed, and they will be able to escape the shadow of Root and start anew in a sunny and warm place.
This was the driving force that enabled him to endure all pretense, all loneliness, and all danger; it was the only glimmer of light he could grasp when he was deep in darkness.
But now?
The dean is right in front of me!
In the Star Kingdom's prison! Yet, he wasn't recognized!
A chilling thought clearly and forcefully gripped his mind: The dean—she doesn't actually care about me at all.
What is the ultimate meaning of joining Root, carrying out espionage missions, gathering intelligence, playing roles, and all that work?
Even—was that promise of "freedom" just a carrot hanging in front of the donkey's eyes from the very beginning, forever out of reach?
The fear and sense of betrayal brought about by this thought were far more chilling than the coldness of the prison ward.
He felt as if he were standing naked on the edge of a precipice, with bottomless darkness beneath his feet, and the hand that pushed him down from behind was blurry, yet it carried the aura of the trust he once had.
The pillar of faith finally emitted a clear, unbearable cracking sound.
"Damn it!"
A sudden, crisp sound broke the oppressive silence in the corridor.
The heavy iron bucket filled with scalding hot miso soup slipped from his trembling, completely powerless hands without warning and crashed heavily onto the cold stone ground!
Thick, scalding hot, dark brown soup with a salty, fishy smell splashed out instantly, spreading rapidly across the uneven stone surface, soaking through Dou's trouser legs and shoes, and also splashing onto the trouser leg of a guard next to him.
"Ah!" The guard cried out in surprise as he was burned and jumped back.
"Hey! Kid! What's going on?!"
Dou stood there dumbfounded, feeling the scalding hot soup and its sticky residue on his trouser legs.
He looked at the messy, still steaming stains at his feet, at the broken spoon and the wooden bowl rolled into the corner, at the guard's angry face approaching, at the worried eyes of Hazuki and the handsome man who ran over at the sound. The world seemed to be slowed down, the sounds distorted and blurred, the colors faded, leaving only this dirty mess in front of him, exuding an aura of failure and collapse.
This mess is just like the world collapsing in his heart at this moment.
"Sorry, it was a slip of the hand—"
An extremely dry, unfamiliar voice was squeezed out of Kabuto Yakushi's throat, carrying a false calm that even he himself found nauseating.
He bent down, and as he lowered his head, his glasses slipped off his nose, revealing a pair of eyes that could no longer be perfectly concealed, now filled with bewilderment.
Painful eyes.
He crouched down and mechanically reached out to pick up the shards on the ground. His fingers stung as they touched the scalding soup and the sharp edges of the pottery shards.
This insignificant pain strangely brought a brief moment of clarity; he needed to conceal it, he had to conceal it!
No matter how broken his heart is, no matter how the world that supported him turns to dust, at this moment, he must still be "Kumamoto Kabuto"!
He forced himself to lift his head, trying to force a mixture of panic, self-reproach, and awkwardness—an expression typical of "Kumamoto Kabuto."
He looked at the angry guard and the summer ninja who was walking quickly towards him.
"Mr. Xia, I'm so sorry! It was my carelessness!" His voice trembled with just the right amount of remorse.
Summer frowned, her sharp gaze sweeping back and forth between Dou's pale face, trembling hands, and the mess on the ground.
She didn't say anything, only nodded to the guard: "We'll clean it up. Kabuto, Hazuki, clean this place. Toshito, go to the logistics department and get another bowl of soup."
Her voice remained steady, revealing little emotion, but she issued instructions a fraction faster than usual.
"Yes!" Hazuki and Toshito quickly responded, glancing worriedly at Kabuto, who was still squatting on the ground, looking lost and disoriented, before they sprang into action.
Dou squatted on the cold stone ground, holding a shard of pottery stained with soup in his hand; the stinging sensation at his fingertips was clearly felt.
He lowered his head, looking at his blurry, distorted face reflected in the murky soup—the face wearing the "Kumamoto Kabuto" mask.
Dean Nono's empty, unfamiliar eyes were etched on his retina like a brand, impossible to erase, and every time they appeared, they brought a sharp pain that tore his soul apart.
His heart, like the prison ward, was filled with an atmosphere of despair, tightly enveloping him and trapping him firmly on this collapsing ruin.
The beliefs he had painstakingly built and that had sustained him had completely collapsed under the gaze of those empty eyes, becoming part of the filth and chaos beneath his feet.
Summer stood a few steps away, her gaze fixed intently on Dou's slightly trembling back.
She didn't urge him, but just watched quietly as this student, who was usually the most composed and worry-free, seemed to have all his strength drained away.
The heavy, resounding clang of iron gates opening and closing echoed from deep within the prison area, long and hollow, much like the chaotic state of Yakushi Kabuto's mind at that moment.
Yakushi Kabuto squatted on the cold stone ground, mechanically picking at the beans stuck in the cracks of the pottery shards with his fingertips.
Dean Nono's empty, dry well-like eyes burned repeatedly in the depths of his mind, each flash bringing excruciating pain as if his soul were being torn apart.
The bright future promised by Lord Danzo, the pillar of his deep-rooted beliefs, collapsed with a silent "thank you," scattering debris that buried him deep within.
He was like a soulless shell, only maintaining his squatting posture by the last inertia of the character "Kumamoto Kabuto," waiting for the possibly harsher reprimand from Teacher Natsumi.
Just then, an indescribable feeling of weightlessness, as if it came from the depths of his soul, suddenly gripped him.
The solid, cold stone ground beneath their feet vanished. The guard's angry face, the teammates' worried gazes, and the messy stains on the ground—all these images, like reflections on water with stones thrown in, instantly distorted, shattered, and disappeared without a trace.
The cold, despairing atmosphere of the prison ward was replaced by an indescribable vastness and desolate emptiness.
Kabuto found himself standing on a boundless expanse of water.
The water's surface was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the equally boundless and breathtakingly deep night sky above.
Countless stars burn, swirl, and flow across the night sky, converging into a dazzling galaxy. Their light is cool and pure, illuminating the entire space as if it were a dreamlike realm.
The water beneath his feet was not solid; stepping on it only caused extremely faint ripples, yet it clearly reflected his pale, dejected figure.
Absolute silence enveloped him; there was no wind, no sound, only the silent turning of the stars and the echo of his own heart pounding wildly in his chest.
A heartbeat amplified to a deafening deafening volume, filled with panic and bewilderment.
Where is this?
The immense shock temporarily overwhelmed the feeling of inner collapse.
Dou suddenly looked up, his pupils contracting behind his glasses.
This is absolutely not real!
Is it an illusion?
What terrifying illusion could instantly drag him from the prison of reality into such an unimaginable world of illusion?
When was this illusion planted?
"pocket."
A clear, calm voice, with a touch of strange childlike innocence, suddenly rang out in the silence of this starry, watery landscape, piercing clearly through the deafening thud of a heartbeat.
Dou's whole body trembled violently, as if he had been struck by an invisible electric current.
He suddenly looked in the direction of the sound.
About ten steps away from him, a small figure stood quietly on the water.
It was a boy who was about five years old.
With short, spiky black hair and a handsome face, he wore a black casual outfit and open-toed ninja boots that shone on the water reflecting the stars. He possessed a maturity that set him apart from his peers.
The boy's eyes were as black as a deep pool, and he was calmly and without any ripples as he stared at Kabuto Yakushi.
That look in his eyes was so deep that it didn't seem like something a five-year-old child should have; it seemed to hold a thousand years of time and endless secrets.
Face numb!
Dou's breathing suddenly stopped, and his mind went blank.
How did he end up here?
"You—" Kabuto's voice was dry and hoarse, like sandpaper scraping, trembling with disbelief: "You—. How could you—"
Countless questions crowded and clashed in my throat, eventually turning into a chaotic blank.
"Or is it an illusion?"
He stared intently at the small figure, his body tensing instinctively, entering a state of heightened alertness, even though he knew that in this eerie space, any vigilance seemed so pale and laughable.
Mianma did not answer his question about space. His dark eyes remained calm and unwavering, as if he had already seen through all the struggles and pretenses deep in his soul.
"Long time no see." Her small lips parted slightly, her voice clear and steady, each word like a cold pebble thrown into a turbulent lake of the heart, stirring up even greater waves.
"It's been almost two years since we last met. It seems you're not doing well at Konoha Root, and you're not becoming a medical ninja as you once said."
Kabuto's body swayed violently, as if he had been struck hard by an invisible hammer.
"How do you know all this?" Kabuto's voice was hoarse, filled with the desperate struggle of a cornered beast: "Headmaster—why is the Headmaster in the Star Country?"
Kabuto knew that Menma in front of him must know exactly what had happened!
"Do you want to know the truth?" A faint, almost pitying glimmer seemed to flash in the depths of his dark, calloused eyes.
He slowly raised his small right hand.
The movement carried a composure and sense of control that was completely at odds with the child's appearance.
A few light scraps of paper silently slipped from his tender palm.
The piece of paper spun and drifted slowly on the silent surface of the starry water, finally landing precisely on the water reflecting the glittering Milky Way at Dou's feet, as if drawn by an invisible force.
The water rippled slightly, but did not wet the paper in the slightest.
Those were several color photographs.
Dou's gaze was drawn to the photograph as if by a magnet.
The first photo shows a boy with round-framed glasses, a gentle smile, and clear eyes.
The contours of his eyebrows and eyes, the curve of his lips—they bore a striking resemblance to him! The boy was wearing the uniform of the Konoha Ninja Academy, and the background appeared to be a street in Konoha.
The second photo shows the same boy, dressed in Konoha's medical ninja uniform, giving the camera a slightly tired but still cheerful smile.
The third photo is taken in a dimly lit room. The boy is sitting at a table with books spread out on it, and he is writing something intently.
Each photo bears a resemblance to Kabuto Yakushi, forming a picture of a boy's growth.
In just two years, Kabuto Yakushi has completely changed.
"This is not me"
"This isn't me!!!"
Kabuto's eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the photo on the ground, his face filled with shock and disbelief.
He took a step back while kneeling, and the calm water beneath his feet rippled violently.
He stared intently at the faces of the unfamiliar boys in those photos. A cold, cruel, and poisonous truth, like the sharpest ice pick, pierced through his chaotic mind.
Danzo – The man who controls Root
He not only used the dean's safety as a tool to control him, but also used such a despicable and vicious method!
He found a body double!
A boy who resembled him took his place in the dean's heart!
The dean's gentle gaze was drawn to the stand-in!
"The Dean and you are both naive." Menma's voice slowly rang out, cold and pitying: "Naively thinking that Danzo would keep his promise, but little did they know that he was already planning how to make you kill each other, eradicate the last bit of kindness in the depths of your espionage, and completely transform you into tools in his hands."
This cruel truth nearly suffocated Kabuto Yakushi.
"Nya"
A suppressed roar, like that of a wounded beast, emanated from deep within Yakushi Kabuto's throat.
He suddenly bent over, gripping his hair tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning white from the force, his nails almost digging into his scalp.
Immense pain, the rage of being manipulated, the gnawing regret, the overwhelming hatred.
Countless emotions, enough to tear a person apart, surged and roared within him like a tsunami.
He got it!
I understand everything now!
Why didn't the dean recognize him?
Why do your eyes look so empty!
Because in her "memory", "Yakushi Kabuto" is already a different person!
If, according to Menma's plan, Danzo sent the headmaster to eliminate him without his knowledge, "It was me, it was me who harmed her, it was me," Kabuto's voice was broken and filled with self-destructive despair and self-blame.
If the Dean hadn't taken it upon himself to go with Danzo, he might not have been so passively coerced by Danzo.
Dou's tears flowed uncontrollably, mixed with snot, streaming down his contorted face and dripping onto the water reflecting the stars, creating small ripples.
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