Chapter 28 - Harem No Jutsu Aftermaths

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On this particular afternoon, the training field was blistering under the relentless sun, and Kakashi stood at its center, drenched in sweat, his uniform clinging to his skin like he had just crawled out of a pond.

Nearby, Mi Blade sat cross-legged, completely absorbed in his book, basking in a rare moment of serenity. The air was still, the kind of quiet that lulls you into peaceful introspection—until a loud commotion shattered the silence.

In stormed a fiery-headed kunoichi from Konoha, looking like she had just clawed her way out of a skirmish with a wild beast.

It was Kushina Uzumaki, her nose swollen to an almost comical degree, as if she’d taken a direct hit from a wrecking ball. Her vivid red hair flared around her like a living flame, her eyes blazing with a fury that threatened to consume anyone in her path.

Trailing behind her was Minato Namikaze, a man caught in the crossfire between courage and survival. His wide, nervous eyes darted around, a perfect mix of a deer frozen in the headlights and a quail caught just moments before the feast.

His face was flushed, beads of sweat clinging to his brow as if he were debating whether to flee or collapse into the earth and hope to disappear.

The scene stirred a memory in Mi Blade—a flashback to their childhood days. Back then, Kushina’s vibrant hair was the talk of the playground.

While other kids teased her mercilessly, one boy, Minato, had stepped forward, small chest puffed out with the bravery of youth. “I think it’s beautiful!” he had declared, completely oblivious that in that moment, he had sealed his fate as Kushina’s lifelong emotional crutch.

Mi Blade now watched this fiery woman barrel forward, her wrath trailing behind like a storm, Jiraiya hobbling in her wake, looking like he’d survived a brutal encounter with a meat grinder.

Minato’s expression was nothing short of sheer terror as he hesitated behind her. Mi Blade couldn’t help but feel as though he had been dropped into the middle of some twisted, live-action sitcom—one where the punchlines were delivered via chakra-infused fists.

The atmosphere buzzed, thick with tension, as if a thunderstorm were about to break loose—or worse, a ninja brawl with a slapstick twist.

Kakashi, who had paused mid-training, crept toward Mi Blade. His eyes flickered nervously, taking in the fiery whirlwind approaching them.

“What’s going on over there?” he asked, his tone a forced blend of amusement and thinly veiled fear. His sweat-drenched face belied his effort to remain calm.

Mi Blade glanced up lazily, his eyes sweeping across the otherwise deserted training grounds.

“Well, considering the alternatives are her or an audience of crickets, I’m going to say, yeah, she’s definitely here for us.”

Kakashi’s voice wavered slightly. “Did you do something to make her mad?”

“Me? No way. I don’t even know her like that,” Mi Blade replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. But inwardly, he prayed her fury wouldn’t suddenly shift his way.

Just then, Jiraiya staggered closer, looking utterly defeated, his robes disheveled, his expression that of a man who had just gone twelve rounds with fate and lost.

Kushina, without missing a step, flung him to the ground like he was nothing more than a discarded rag doll. He landed with a groan, sprawled out like a battered toy, while she planted her foot squarely on his back, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Why do I always end up the one getting squished?” Jiraiya muttered, his voice muffled by the dirt. Mi Blade stifled a chuckle, despite the intense situation unfolding in front of them.

“Ah, the joys of being in Kushina’s inner circle,” Mi Blade thought, quietly considering whether he should take notes on how to avoid similar fates in the future.

“Minato!” Kushina snapped, her voice cracking like a whip as she motioned for him to approach, her tone less a request and more a command. Her fingers curled as if summoning a well-trained dog—or perhaps a husband who had forgotten one too many chores.

Minato shuffled forward with all the reluctance of a child being called into the principal’s office, his eyes wide with fear, his gait awkward and hesitant. He looked utterly trapped, his quivering figure more like a sacrificial lamb than the formidable Yellow Flash of Konoha.

Kakashi’s eyes widened as he watched the scene unravel, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That woman… she’s terrifying. She just threw Jiraiya around like a toy! And her chakra... it’s unreal!”

Mi Blade leaned back, a knowing smile playing on his lips, as if he were discussing something as ordinary as the weather.

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“Of course it is. You’re sensing the Kyuubi’s chakra. She’s basically a walking natural disaster. Think earthquake with a touch of hurricane.”

Kushina’s sharp ears picked up on the comment, and she swiveled toward them, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. She locked onto Kakashi like a predator sizing up its next meal.

“What did you say, brat?” she growled, her voice low and menacing, the very air around her humming with the suppressed fury of a thousand storms.

Kakashi, whose fleeting courage had melted away faster than ice cream under the summer sun, now found himself staring into what could only be described as the face of imminent doom.

His usually unruly hair seemed to defy gravity even more than usual, standing on end as if he'd just stuck his finger in a lightning socket. His scalp tingled, his limbs locked, and he was fairly certain that his blood had turned to ice.

“T-teacher!” Kakashi squeaked, his voice betraying him as he shot a desperate glance at Mi Blade, his survival instincts flaring to life like a fire alarm in the dead of night.

Mi Blade, however, was no better off. His mind raced in frantic circles, grasping for answers that weren’t there.

Why me? I didn’t even say anything to her! he lamented inwardly, watching his hopes of ever bonding with the infamous Kushina Uzumaki crumble like a fragile sandcastle under a crashing wave.

He had once envisioned an afternoon where they might laugh together, maybe even enjoy a casual conversation over tea, and—if luck allowed it—perhaps he could even be on friendly terms with the Nine-Tails’ jinchuuriki.

But reality had proven to be a crueler script, one where Kushina’s chakra flared ominously, warning everyone within range to keep their distance, lest they face her wrath.

Mi Blade sighed deeply, his disappointment palpable. “So much for a peaceful afternoon,” he muttered to himself, as if resigning to the inevitable chaos.

Kakashi, his heart still racing, cast a wary look over at Jiraiya, who was sprawled out beneath Kushina’s foot, groaning as though he'd just gone through a battlefield and lost miserably.

“Do we, uh… help him?” Kakashi ventured, though his voice trembled as if he already knew the answer.

“Help him?” Mi Blade raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“Are you serious? I’m just trying not to end up like him! I didn’t sign up for this horror show.”

Kushina was terrifying enough on a good day, but this? This was a whole new level of intimidating. She was more than just a fierce kunoichi—this was like being stuck in a full-blown ninja horror flick, where the monster didn’t just lurk in the shadows but stood right in front of you, eyes blazing.

Her fiery gaze locked onto them with the precision of a kunai, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Is there some pervy jutsu you invented?” she demanded, her tone dripping with menace, making it very clear that a wrong answer would likely result in a swift and painful end.

“Huh?” Kakashi stammered, his brain scrambling to catch up. He realized, with mounting horror, that he was mere moments away from becoming Kushina’s next unfortunate target.

He took a slow, cautious step backward, trying not to make any sudden movements, as if he were facing down a predator ready to pounce. All he wanted to do was retreat, far away from the impending storm.

If this were some twisted reality show, Kakashi would have preferred watching from the safety of the sidelines with a bowl of popcorn rather than starring in it.

Meanwhile, Kushina had already thoroughly flattened Jiraiya like a piece of discarded laundry, and poor Minato—future Fourth Hokage and all—stood rooted to the spot, as though paralyzed by sheer terror.

His wide, fearful eyes darted around helplessly, as if silently begging someone, anyone, to come to his rescue. You could practically hear the panicked cry in his mind: Help me! Somebody, please save me from this!

Mi Blade glanced down at Jiraiya, who groaned pitifully beneath Kushina’s relentless foot, and suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place in his mind, clicking together with a sense of dreadful certainty.

Oh no, Mi Blade thought, his stomach sinking. I bet Jiraiya taught Minato the Harem Jutsu. It all made sense now. After all, Kushina barely tolerated Jiraiya on a good day. To think he might have corrupted her sweet, gentle Minato with such a technique?

It was no wonder she was ready to tear the world apart. Mi Blade could already imagine her lecturing their future son, warning him of Jiraiya’s perverse influence. “He’s not just a pervert,” she’d say. “He’s a dangerous pervert!”

But even as Mi Blade put the pieces together, one question still nagged at him: Was the Harem Jutsu really bad enough to unleash the full fury of the Nine-Tails?

The answer seemed to hang in the air, thick with tension, as Kushina’s chakra crackled ominously around her, a living embodiment of her rage. The situation teetered on the edge, one wrong move away from turning into an outright catastrophe.

Mi Blade stood frozen, weighing his options. Should he intervene and risk the wrath of a woman teetering on the edge of a full-blown catastrophe? Or perhaps play dumb and hope she didn’t notice him?

Neither choice looked particularly appealing, like picking between standing in the middle of a lightning storm or diving headfirst into a whirlpool.

With a theatrical sigh that could have won him an award in any dramatic production, Mi Blade finally looked up at Kushina, his eyes shimmering with the most exaggerated, fake tears he could muster.

“Yes... Yes, I invented it!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest as though he were confessing to the ultimate sin, something far worse than stealing the last dumpling at a family dinner.

Kakashi, watching from a safe distance, blinked in disbelief.

“What are you doing?!” he whispered sharply, his voice a mix of shock, panic, and grudging respect for the audacity of Mi Blade’s performance.

But Mi Blade was already committed. If Jiraiya was going to go down in flames, Mi Blade figured he might as well throw himself on the pyre.

After all, the alternative was facing an enraged Kushina who, at this rate, was just one breath away from summoning the full wrath of the Nine-Tails and turning the entire training ground into a scene of utter destruction.

As soon as Mi Blade’s confession left his lips, Kushina’s anger surged like a storm gathering strength. Her eyes flashed, her chakra flaring, and it felt as though the very air around them vibrated with her fury.

Mi Blade braced himself for the explosion, but before she could unleash her inner beast, he decided to double down on the performance of his life.

“Sister Kushina,” Mi Blade began dramatically, placing his hand over his heart like a tragic hero in a stage play, “I cannot stand those who disrespect women! Especially the vile creatures who sneak, peep, and exploit their dignity! Such people should be banished from the world—forever!”

He flailed his arms with wild passion, his gestures so over-the-top they could have been mistaken for some complex ninjutsu sequence.

Kakashi and Jiraiya exchanged glances, both thoroughly unimpressed but unable to look away from the train wreck of a performance unfolding before them. They knew, just by looking at each other, that Mi Blade was weaving an elaborate lie.

Jiraiya, still flattened beneath Kushina’s foot, groaned, wishing he had signed up for an escape mission rather than enduring this nightmare scenario. Kakashi, meanwhile, silently approved of Mi Blade’s theatrics—if it kept them from becoming Kushina’s next targets, Mi Blade could spin his ridiculous story until the end of time.

Mi Blade, riding the momentum of his grandstanding, continued his tale with even more melodrama.

“One fateful day, my dear brother and I were walking through the village, our hearts pure, our spirits light. It was the most innocent of afternoons—birds chirping, a gentle breeze—and then…” He paused for effect, his voice dropping to a low, ominous tone, “...we saw him. A shadowy figure, lurking near the women's bathhouse!”

Jiraiya's face paled. He knew exactly where this was going, and the sinking feeling in his stomach confirmed it.

“Oh no…” he muttered weakly, as if he'd just been delivered a death sentence.

Mi Blade gasped dramatically, clutching his head as though the memory itself was too much to bear.

“And there he was, crouched like a bandit caught red-handed! None other than the legendary Sannin himself—Jiraiya-sama!”

Kakashi bit his lip, struggling to contain his laughter. The absurdity of the story was too much, but the longer Mi Blade spun this web of lies, the more it seemed to take on a life of its own.

Even Jiraiya’s eye twitched in frustration, but what could he do? He was literally stuck underfoot, unable to defend his name, while Mi Blade gleefully tarnished it.

“We wanted to stop him,” Mi Blade continued, his voice rising in righteous indignation.

“We really did! But what could two innocent children do in the face of such shameless depravity?!” He clutched at his imaginary pearls, his voice now trembling with the weight of the supposed trauma.

“I was only six years old!” he wailed, his tone now that of a man recounting a tragic tale of survival.

The absurdity reached its peak as Mi Blade let the silence linger, as if waiting for the heavens to applaud his performance. Kakashi, for his part, looked away, pretending to focus on a distant tree so he wouldn’t burst out laughing.

Kushina, however, was a different story. Her eyes narrowed, the fiery intensity behind them smoldering like embers just waiting to ignite.

But for now, Mi Blade’s theatrics seemed to have bought them a bit of time—at least enough to stay off Kushina’s immediate hit list. Whether she fully believed his tale was another matter entirely, but as her chakra began to simmer down ever so slightly, it seemed that, for the moment, the storm had passed.