Hyuga Kiyonari clutched his chest, his face showing a painfully clear my-wallet-hurts expression.
He hadn't expected that altering memories would cost far more correction points than he'd anticipated.
To the system, a person's memories were a finely interwoven network—each memory node linked to countless others. To replace any part of it, no matter how small, all connected memories had to be adjusted in sync. Otherwise, contradictions would trigger logical conflicts and eventually cause uncontrollable consequences.
Even the new ocular technique he unlocked for Hinata hadn't cost half as much as this.
Kiyonari decided on the spot: operations like this had to be used with extreme caution. If he burned too many correction points, it could affect the later script.
"Sigh…"
He couldn't help sighing. But then he thought about how Hinata's progress was unfolding exactly according to the script, and he felt a little better.
Just as Kiyonari turned to leave, he suddenly stopped and frowned.
It felt like… he'd forgotten something important.
Like a word sitting on the tip of his tongue—almost spoken, yet impossible to recall.
He paused and carefully reviewed everything related to the script… and it didn't seem like he'd missed anything.
So what was it?
Kiyonari shook his head. "Forget it. If it's really important, I'll remember it on my own."
…
Meanwhile, elsewhere.
Kurama Yakumo was on her knees in the training ground, hands braced on the ground, gulping air. Every breath tugged at her heavy body.
"Yakumo, take a break." Yūhi Kurenai hurried over, worry thick in her voice. "If you keep going, your body won't hold up."
"No—I can keep going—" Yakumo gritted her teeth and trembled as she tried to stand.
But her body had already reached its limit.
Even though Kiyonari had been conditioning her for the last two years and supplementing her with precious medicinal ingredients to strengthen her constitution… it was like a sapling with weak roots: no matter how much you watered and fertilized it, it was hard to turn it into a towering tree.
Yakumo barely managed to prop herself up. She took one step—and her vision went black. Her body collapsed limply.
"Yakumo!"
When she opened her eyes again, she saw the familiar ceiling of her room, the familiar furnishings, and the familiar face by her bedside—always filled with worry.
"Yakumo, you're finally awake." Her mother sat at the bed. "You were unconscious for three full hours."
"I…" Yakumo tried to speak, but her throat was so dry she couldn't squeeze out a sound.
Her father, Kurama Murakumo, brought warm water, carefully supported her, and fed her a few sips. Then he let out a heavy sigh.
"Yakumo, you… really aren't suited to becoming a ninja. Kiyonari-kun has been away for less than two months, and your body already—sigh!"
Yakumo stared blankly at the ceiling and whispered, voice as small as a mosquito, "But… next year I'm supposed to start school."
"I'll finally be Kiyonari's classmate. I can sit in the classroom with him and learn how to become an excellent ninja… train with classmates, improve, earn the teachers' recognition…"
"Enough!" Murakumo's voice rose sharply, rare for him. "You can't even endure the most basic physical training. How can you be a ninja? Accept reality, Yakumo!"
Yakumo rolled over, yanked the blanket over her head, and hid.
"Rest well." Murakumo stood, his tone softening. "When you recover, we'll talk properly."
Before leaving, her mother couldn't help adding, "Yakumo, we're doing this for your own good. All Mom wants is for you to be safe."
The couple left quietly, closing the door behind them.
Yakumo stayed under the blanket alone.
At times like this… only Kiyonari would encourage me.
But—he asked Katsuyu-sama to condition my body, and after two years I'm still this pathetic, still not improving at all. Would he… also think I'm a burden?
I can't do anything. I really am… useless, aren't I?
A flood of negative emotion swallowed her whole. Her consciousness sank into darkness, blurring.
In the center of that sticky, boundless blackness stood a huge easel. Hanging there was an unfinished painting—a little girl who was clearly Yakumo, except the face was twisted and deformed, with no features at all, only hatred and despair.
"It's back again…"
A voice rang out in the dark—exactly like Yakumo's, yet stained with an eerie, unpleasant tone.
A figure stepped out from behind the easel. It was another Kurama Yakumo, but with a mocking smile.
"Every time. Every time. Every time—it's always like this."
Ido—slowly paced to Yakumo's side, fingers lightly brushing over her body.
"They always talk to you like this. They always deny your effort, making you feel like you're nothing."
Yakumo curled into a ball, hugging her knees like a frightened animal after being hurt.
"N-no… it's not like that…" she murmured. "Father and Mother are doing it for my sake."
"For your sake?" Ido snorted. "If it were truly for your sake, they'd support your dream—instead of using 'for your own good' as an excuse to tell you to give up again and again."
"But my body—"
"What about your body?" Ido cut her off. "You inherited the Kurama clan's strongest bloodline limit! Your genjutsu talent is unmatched— even Yūhi Kurenai, a jōnin, has fallen for it!"
"But them? They only stare at your weaknesses and ignore your strengths."
"And," Ido pressed in closer, "haven't you noticed? Even Kiyonari… stopped coming to see you."
"That's because he only came back to the village yesterday—he must have lots to handle—" Yakumo argued quickly, but her voice grew smaller and smaller. "Just wait… maybe he'll come tomorrow."
"Wait?" Ido laughed coldly. "Yakumo—my Kurama Yakumo—how long will you keep playing this self-deceiving game? He's clearly disappointed beyond words. He thinks you're rotten wood, not worth carving anymore."
"No… not like that…"
"Then tell me! Why isn't he here?! Why hasn't he even had time all day to send a message?!"
Yakumo was struck like she'd been hit with a hammer. Her lips trembled, but no words came.
Could it be… I really am that worthless?
Could it be… he really abandoned me?
"Let me take over." Ido extended a hand. "Let me prove your value. Let me show them how powerful you truly are."
"No—I don't want—"
Yakumo tried to resist, but her body felt drained of all strength. She couldn't gather even a thread of defiance.
…
In the real world, Yakumo suddenly opened her eyes in bed. She sat upright, stiffly rolling her neck.
"Finally… finally it's my turn."
"That damn Yūhi Kurenai, and Hyuga Kiyonari— they almost made it so I could never come out again."
Footsteps approached the door. Kurama Murakumo pushed it open with a bowl of steaming medicine.
"Yakumo, time to drink your medicine."
"Yakumo"—or rather, Ido—lifted her head and grinned at him with a twisted smile.
"Medicine? I don't need that trash."
Murakumo froze. His pupils contracted. "Yakumo? You—"
In an instant, a powerful unease seized him.
"Wait—it's you! You broke free of the seal—"
His unfinished scream was abruptly cut off. The world in front of him tore and twisted—replaced by a sky rolling with blood-red waves, cracked and collapsing earth, and scalding magma roaring through fissures like giant serpents!
"This is—genjutsu?!"
Murakumo formed seals at once, trying to dispel it, but the illusion didn't budge. The burning magma even surged toward him with a heatwave that threatened to incinerate everything!
"This level of Five Senses Manipulation?!"
Murakumo was shocked beyond belief. He knew his daughter's talent was high—he hadn't realized it was this high.
"Yakumo! Wake up!"
He shouted, but at the next moment an enemy shinobi dropped from above, blade flashing as it split down at his face!
Murakumo was forced to fight. He knew it was fake, but if he was injured in this genjutsu world, his real body would suffer the same damage—he could even truly die.
"Yakumo! Listen to me!"
He dodged and parried, voice straining through the blur of blade-light.
"I know what your mother and I said hurt you, but we only didn't want to see you injure yourself from training too hard—or even die!"
No response. Only the enemy's attacks grew more ferocious.
"We never denied your talent!" Murakumo shouted again.
"You're the most gifted child the Kurama clan has seen in a hundred years! Your genjutsu talent is greater than even mine! That's exactly why we're more afraid!"
Bang!
A heavy kick smashed into his chest. He flew backward, crashing to the ground, nearly slipping into magma.
"Cough—!"
He spat blood. The sharp crack of broken ribs rang in his ears— the pain was horrifyingly real.
If this keeps going… I'll really die—
Somewhere within the illusion, Yakumo curled in the corner of an icy cage. Her father's hoarse yelling lashed at her sealed heart like an invisible whip.
"Don't listen to him." Ido stood outside the cage, brimming with absolute confidence. "He's just afraid of dying, so he says pretty words."
"N-no… that's not—"
"Then explain this: he's seen your talent, so why is he still trying to make you give up becoming a ninja?"
Yakumo squeezed her eyes shut and let her last scrap of resistance and thought sink into the endless black.
Seeing her fully give up, Ido's mouth stretched into a victorious, savage grin.
This was Kurama Yakumo's genjutsu.
It wasn't that Ido had imprisoned her.
Yakumo couldn't break the cage because deep down she believed she was useless. She couldn't resist because deep down she believed she wasn't an opponent.
She had imprisoned herself.
"Kiyonari, where are you? Hurry—save Dad—"
"Heh heh…" Ido laughed wildly.
Kurama Yakumo, your spiritual power is at its limit—and you still dare place your hope in Hyuga Kiyonari?
With that little strength of his—useless, useless, useless!
No breathing room. Final strike—shatter your heart completely, define who is strong and who is weak, who is master and who is subordinate!
Ido let out a vicious laugh.
Then—"Hyuga Kiyonari" appeared, standing outside the cage.
The instant that figure entered her sight, blazing hope erupted in Yakumo's eyes!
"Kiyonari, please help me! Break this cage! Defeat Ido! Save my father!"
But "Hyuga Kiyonari" only stood there coldly, staring at her with an icy gaze.
"Why? Why are you so useless?"
Yakumo froze, eyes widening.
"When Murakumo-sama is at death's door, why do you do nothing but curl up here and tremble, begging me to save you?"
"Hyuga Kiyonari" stepped closer and, in the next instant, appeared inside the cage—then grabbed her throat.
"Murakumo-sama brought you a teacher, searched for rare medicines, took care of you—and what have you done? Useless trash!"
Smack!
A crisp sound—not loud, yet it echoed across the entire mental world.
Yakumo seized "Kiyonari's" wrist and pried the hand off her throat, not sparing the fake shadow even a glance.
She walked toward Ido, one step… then another—
Ido jolted. It didn't understand why Yakumo suddenly had courage.
"You—how—"
"How could Kiyonari-kun ever say something like that?"
Yakumo's icy stare made Ido feel fear—like she was looking at a dead thing.
Ido tried to argue. "Then tell me—why doesn't Hyuga Kiyonari come—"
"I heard your prayer. I won't betray your heart."
Yakumo's voice suddenly rose. A beam of light erupted behind her, outlining the silhouette of a red giant.
"T-that is—?!"
Ido stared at the outline and suddenly remembered—remembered where those words came from!
That novel.
That line Ultraman said when he awakened!
"So what?!"
Ido roared, tearing apart the "Kurama Yakumo" shell. Its body swelled and twisted, transforming into a hideous, monstrous colossus!
Fangs and claws—every inch radiating suffocating malice. Even worse, its silhouette carried a familiar shape: it looked like the alien that forced Ultraman into a bitter struggle in the manga. It could split without limit—like a parasite. Even Ultraman couldn't destroy it—
Everything about it was tailor-made to counter Ultraman itself!
As long as it tore open a crack in Yakumo's heart—even a tiny thought like "maybe even Ultraman can't win"—then Ido would win.
"I said—"
A calm voice suddenly cut through.
Hyuga Kiyonari had somehow entered this genjutsu world of his own will. He was already at Yakumo's side. He took her hand, guiding her with him as they reached toward the light together.
"When all problems, all pain, all feelings… are given form as monsters."
The vague giant outline vanished, but the light gathered in their palms and became a pair of red glasses.
"Ultraman can come and destroy it!"
"…Do you even hear yourself?"
~~~
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