[It's a scent he can never forget, sweet and cloying. It threatens to choke him even now, and bile rises in the back of his throat, but he fights it down with willpower alone.]
[The sight of those empty eye sockets makes his breath catch in his throat for just a moment, but suddenly, his eyes are burning red with hatred. No. This is an illusion--he shakes himself, fighting for control of the situation. He won't be tricked. The Sharingan seeks to pierce whatever kind of illusion this is, and his fists are trembling with rage.]
Cut the shit. I know you're just trying to fuck with me.