Chapter 23 - Along With The Pervy Sage

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As the scene unfolded like the world’s most chaotic fashion show, Jiraiya's eyes widened in disbelief, taking in every detail around him as if he were a child in a candy store filled with impossibly beautiful ninja.

The playful sounds of Mi Blade and his shadow clones echoed through the air, creating a bizarre atmosphere that made Jiraiya feel utterly overwhelmed. He stumbled back, his cheeks flushed with surprise, and a grin spread across his face as if he had just witnessed a fantastic magic trick.

He fell to the ground, a look of sheer astonishment transforming his expression, as if he’d just discovered the secret to happiness—or at least a new and particularly entertaining technique.

Mi Blade revealed in his success, convinced that this unexpected skill would ripple through the ranks of Konoha, shaking the very foundations of the ninja world.

“Take that, Naruto!” he thought, puffing out his chest like a proud rooster strutting about after finding a shiny new bell.

Once the shadow clones dispersed in puffs of smoke, Mi Blade picked up a nearby bamboo stick, crouching down to poke Jiraiya’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t play dead! We’ve got a class to teach!” His voice was a mix of playful teasing and genuine concern, excitement dancing in his tone.

Suddenly, a flurry of figures burst onto the scene, each entering with an air of dramatic flair that felt straight out of a misadventure.

Sakumo Hatake, his features sharp and serious; Orochimaru, his sly grin unsettling; and a squad of Anbu ninjas, their masks concealing expressions of curiosity and intrigue. To top it all off, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, arrived with a look of bemusement that suggested he had just walked into a circus.

Kakashi, upon rushing home, stumbled upon Sakumo and Orochimaru deep in a convoluted discussion about ninjutsu—an already bizarre scenario intensified by the chaos he had just witnessed.

“Father! It’s bad! Mi Blade was taken away by Jiraiya!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening in alarm, as if he had stumbled upon a three-headed creature lounging in his living room.

“Taken away by Jiraiya?” Sakumo replied, furrowing his brow as though he were attempting to solve an especially tricky riddle.

“That doesn’t sound so bad… right?”

But Kakashi pressed on with urgency. “No, you don’t understand! Mi Blade angered Jiraiya in the bathhouse, and Jiraiya was furious! He had to… on Mi Blade…”

As those words left his mouth, confusion erupted! Sakumo’s eyes widened in shock, his jaw dropping in disbelief. Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, a sly grin creeping across his lips, while the Anbu ninjas exchanged furtive glances, caught between laughter and the instinct to intervene.

“If Jiraiya lays a finger on Mi Blade, I’ll take him down myself!” Sakumo’s voice rang with fierce determination, his protective instincts igniting like a flame fueled by adrenaline. He was ready to unleash his fury on Jiraiya, as if he were poised to defend the last slice of pizza at a family gathering.

Orochimaru, however, frowned as though he had just bitten into a sour lemon.

“Come on, I’ve known Jiraiya for over a decade. Sure, he’s a notorious perv, but he wouldn’t attack a kid.” His voice dripped with skepticism, the tone of someone trying to reason with a stubborn friend.

Sakumo was having none of it.

“I don’t care if he’s a pervert! No one messes with my son!” he declared, his voice rising with the intensity of a father who had just heard his child was being bullied at school. His words carried the weight of years of experience and love.

Without another word, he grabbed his White Fang short sword—its once-polished surface now covered in cobwebs, looking as if it had been retired since the last ninja war.

With determination in his stride, Sakumo dashed off, with Orochimaru trailing behind him like a bewildered puppy on a leash, unsure of what madness they were about to dive into.

On a nearby rooftop, an Anbu ninja scratched his head in confusion, watching the unfolding spectacle below.

“What’s going on with those two?” he muttered to himself, brow furrowed in bewilderment. “Are they about to fight a rabid raccoon? Or maybe they’re settling a score with a rogue squirrel?”

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He nearly toppled over at the thought, imagining Konoha's retired hero and the legendary snake charging off together. The absurdity of the scene made him question his own sanity, especially given the chaotic blend of their personalities.

“Is the village under siege? Have the clouds turned pink?” he pondered, struggling to comprehend the wild scenario before him.

Unable to cope with the unfolding drama alone, the Anbu ninja decided to send a frantic report to the Hokage while attempting to keep pace with Sakumo’s furious charge. It felt like watching a turtle trying to sprint in a marathon—if the turtle happened to have a sword strapped to its back.

Meanwhile, in the Hokage’s office, Sarutobi Hiruzen was about to call it a day, dreaming of a peaceful evening ahead. He was glued to his crystal ball, much like a child captivated by an arcade game, hoping to finish up his duties before heading home for some well-earned rest.

But then, the news hit him like an unexpected fireball, shattering his tranquil thoughts: Sakumo and Orochimaru were on a mission to confront Jiraiya!

“Wait, what? They’re going to confront someone?!” he exclaimed, nearly spilling his tea all over the important paperwork on his desk. The thought of chaos unfolding in Konoha sent a ripple of concern through him.

The Anbu ninja continued his breathless report, eyes wide with urgency. “Sir, it looks like Sakumo is ready to confront Jiraiya! We’re not sure if this is a rescue mission or a full-blown brawl!”

Hiruzen rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of the absurdity. “Well, I guess we should prepare for the show. Maybe I should start taking bets on who’s going to come out on top!” He leaned back in his chair, bracing himself for the unexpected drama that was about to unfold in the village he loved.

“With the combined forces of Konoha's White Fang and Lord Orochimaru, they must be gearing up for a serious mission! Why aren’t they heading towards the Hokage building? This can’t end well!”

The Anbu ninja's thoughts raced as he pieced together the chaotic scene before him. Earlier that day, he had witnessed the two Hatake boys cornered by a raucous group of their peers, likely engaged in some epic playground brawl over the prestigious title of the coolest ninja headband.

The old saying “Three men make a tiger” danced through his mind, but with Sakumo and Orochimaru involved, it felt more like “Two men make a slightly confused kitten,” wobbling uncertainly amidst the chaos.

As the higher-ups of Konoha twisted themselves into knots over potential disaster, they finally identified the key players in this comedic catastrophe.

There lay Jiraiya, wearing a goofy grin and sprawled out in a pool of what looked like spilled punch, resembling a defeated hero from a cheesy romance novel. It was the kind of sight that made one question if he’d just lost a duel or a particularly spicy eating contest.

As for Mi Blade, he was gleefully prodding Jiraiya’s unconscious form with a stick, as if he were an unwitting participant in an unusual science fair project.

“Hey, Jiraiya! Do you feel anything? Maybe a little regret?” he chuckled, completely oblivious to the chaos he had ignited around him.

“What on earth happened here?” Sarutobi Hiruzen exclaimed, looking like he had just stumbled into a surprise party gone catastrophically wrong, his wide eyes taking in the absurd scene.

Mi Blade froze, his expression shifting from delight to horror at the sight of so many important figures—especially his father, gripping his White Fang short sword like it was the last slice of pizza at a party.

“What did Kakashi tell him?” he wondered, a chill creeping down his spine.

“Don’t worry, son! Speak freely! Your father, the Third Hokage, and your teacher Orochimaru will support you!” he had promised, but now those words felt distant and hollow.

“Uh, well, it was just…”

Mi Blade stammered, desperately searching for a way to explain the sheer ridiculousness of the situation without looking like he had just broken an unwritten code of conduct.

After he tried to clarify, the group’s expressions morphed from confusion to dawning comprehension. Sarutobi Hiruzen discreetly wiped cold sweat from his brow, looking as if he had just emerged from a sauna after a marathon session.

“Mi Blade!”

Kakashi burst onto the scene, slightly out of breath. He had lagged behind, unable to keep up with his dad and Orochimaru, who were likely sprinting as if training for the ninja Olympics.

“Wow! Did Dad really take down Jiraiya?”

Kakashi exclaimed, his eyes bulging as if he’d just spotted a giant ramen bowl in the middle of the desert.

Sakumo shot him a glare that could’ve frozen a raging bull in its tracks. “Go back home, Kakashi. You’ve caused a massive misunderstanding!”

Still reeling from the absurdity of the situation, Mi Blade turned to Kakashi.

“You think this is my fault?” he protested, brandishing his stick like it was a sword. “I didn’t even want to poke the bear!”

“What did you tell Dad?” Kakashi stammered, his face turning a shade of crimson that could rival the Hokage’s vest.

“Uh, I may have mentioned something about Jiraiya trying to… um… let’s just say my choice of words wasn’t exactly ‘ninja-approved.’”

“Well, good job, Sherlock!” Mi Blade groaned, rolling his eyes. He could practically feel the weight of impending disaster like a boulder rolling downhill. The worst part? This entire fiasco might end up costing people their jobs—and maybe even their lunch.

Sarutobi Hiruzen, the esteemed Hokage, sat in a state of bewilderment, rubbing his temples as if he could massage the chaos out of his head. He felt like a teacher who had just discovered that the class pet had been accidentally set loose during a wild game of ninja dodgeball.

“The first thing I did after hearing that ridiculous report was notify the families of the kids who were with Kakashi that day,” he muttered, his voice strained.

“I had them gearing up for the worst, like they were preparing for a shinobi apocalypse!”

“I need to send them a warning,” he continued, pacing like a caged tiger, “or they might think Jiraiya went rogue and started an underground ninja fight club!”

Back to the scene, Mi Blade continued poking Jiraiya’s unconscious body with a stick, wondering if he had somehow lost a bet with the universe.

“Hey, Jiraiya! You okay down there?” he called, half-expecting the legendary sage to spring up and deliver a motivational speech about the virtues of ramen.

Jiraiya lay there blissfully unaware, wearing the biggest, goofiest grin as if he were dreaming of an all-you-can-eat buffet of ramen and sake. He looked like the poster child for “Ninja Life: Living Your Best Dream.”

“Well,” Sarutobi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this is going to make for a legendary story at the next Hokage meeting. ‘How to Scare Your Ninjas Straight in Three Easy Steps.’”

As the tension thickened in the air like a bad soup, Sakumo Hatake, Jiraiya’s friend and fellow shinobi, stared at Mi Blade, his expression a confusing mix of concern and bewilderment, as if he had just learned his favorite ramen shop had run out of noodles.

“What did you do to Jiraiya?” he asked, gripping his White Fang short sword tightly, the blade gleaming ominously in the dim light—almost like it was ready to slice through the awkwardness of the moment.

Mi Blade scratched his head, his wide eyes nearly comical in their panic.

“Uh, I just used a jutsu…” He felt as if he were explaining to his dad why he had gotten a D in ninja history. The pressure was building.

Sakumo’s brow furrowed deeper, looking as puzzled as a toddler with a puzzle piece that didn’t fit.

“What jutsu?”

Orochimaru stepped forward, crossing his arms like a proud parent at a school play, eyebrow raised in intrigue yet caution.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. What kind of jutsu could possibly leave Jiraiya in this state? Did you throw a bunch of kunai at him or something?”

With the eyes of the Hokage and several Anbu now fixed on him like he was the main act in a tragicomedy, Mi Blade sighed deeply.

“Okay, fine. I used… Harem Jutsu.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to slice with a kunai, each shinobi processing the revelation.

Kakashi’s eyes widened, Hiruzen facepalmed, and even Jiraiya, in his blissful stupor, seemed to smirk a little more as if relishing the unexpected twist of fate.

“Well, that explains a lot,” Sakumo muttered, shaking his head, half-amused, half-concerned.

“Guess we’re all in for a wild night.”

At the mention of the name, Sakumo’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d just bitten into a piece of super spicy curry and realized he’d forgotten to drink water.