Chapter 87 – The Price of Truth and the Monster Inside the Canvas
Their target, Kurama Yakumo, stood frozen by the floor-to-ceiling window, paintbrush still in hand, mouth open in shock.
She clearly hadn't processed that her illusion had been shattered like cheap glass.
The canvas in front of her was paused mid-stroke: Aike and the girls standing calmly in the middle of roaring lava.
"Nice painting," Aike said, strolling up and admiring it. "You just made the background a little too spicy."
Only then did Yakumo snap out of it. She whipped around, eyes wide with alarm.
"W-Who are you people?!"
The arrogant artist from moments ago was gone. Now she just sounded like a scared kid.
"Us? We're probably the ones saving your life today," Aike replied, chin in hand, staring not at her, but at the dark, writhing shadow inside her body.
Interesting.
A heart demon straight out of a xianxia novel?
In just a few seconds he had already analyzed Ido's true nature.
Exactly like he warned earlier: when the ability outgrows the user's foundation, backlash is inevitable.
This thing was Yakumo's accumulated negative emotions given independent consciousness by her bloodline.
A literal inner monster living rent-free in her body.
"Y-You can save this child?"
A weak voice came from the corner.
Yūhi Kurenai dragged herself upright against the wall, eyes shining with desperate hope.
Aike glanced over.
Even battered and bleeding, the woman dubbed "Konoha's Flower" was stunning. The fragile, wounded version somehow hit harder than the confident jonin he remembered.
"Her problem is child's play to me."
Kurenai staggered over, clutching her side, and bowed as deeply as her injuries allowed.
"Please… save Yakumo. She won't last much longer like this."
Even half-dead, her first thought was her student.
But the motion made her sway. Her body finally gave out and she pitched forward, straight into Aike's chest.
He caught her on reflex, one arm around her waist.
"Pretty badly hurt. Kaya, she's yours."
He passed the limp Kurenai to the girls.
Yakumo seized the opening and frantically tried to drag them all into another illusion.
She scribbled like mad on the canvas.
Nothing happened.
The room didn't even flicker.
"Stop wasting energy. Under these eyes, every stroke you make is in 4K."
Izumi's voice was ice.
Eternal Mangekyou glowed crimson in the dim room, locked on the girl.
Yakumo's hand froze mid-air. Pure terror crept across her face.
Anyone would be scared shitless stared down by glowing blood-red eyes in the dark, let alone an inexperienced kid.
Even the monster inside her curled up like a beaten dog.
Those eyes could erase it with a thought.
Aike turned his full attention back to the restless little artist.
"You really want to be a shinobi, don't you?"
"...!"
Yakumo blinked, then nodded furiously.
She had no idea where this was going, but becoming a shinobi, living up to her parents and clan's expectations, that was her deepest wish.
The very wish that birthed Ido when it shattered.
"I can fix your body. I can make you a real shinobi."
Aike gave her exactly what she wanted to hear.
"I can even show you the full truth about everything, including how your parents really died."
"But everything has a price."
"Truth…? My parents…?"
Yakumo went rigid.
A spike of agony shot through her skull.
Ido began thrashing inside her.
"Quiet."
Aike's voice turned cold.
One glance.
At the same moment, inside Yakumo's mindscape,
a pair of glowing blue six-magatama Rinnegan materialized, radiating absolute, overwhelming majesty.
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