Chapter 43 - Befriending Killer B
______________________
“Hey, where are you from? You look like a ninja, right?”
Tsunade squinted at the peculiar man, her brow furrowing as if she were trying to read the fine print on a poorly written contract.
The man shook his head vigorously, like a dog trying to get rid of a pesky fly. He grinned at Tsunade, his smile as wide as a Cheshire cat’s.
“Lady, you’re absolutely right! I’m a ninja from the Yunren unit, just passing through and, uh, happened to bump into you! Yay!”
Tsunade blinked, her expression unreadable. “…”
The silence that followed was deafening, the kind of silence that could make even a cricket reconsider its life choices.
Naka and the others exchanged bewildered glances, their faces a mix of confusion and concern. Was this guy for real, or was he just auditioning for a role in a circus?
Or maybe this was just the standard conversation starter in the Land of Thunder. Tsunade could already feel a headache creeping in, one that promised to be more painful than any hangover.
Mi Blade frowned, scrutinizing the man closely. There was something oddly familiar about him, like he had just walked out of a bad dream—or a poorly scripted comedy.
This was the Ninja World, after all; in his previous life, he’d seen the Hokage. He felt like he’d witnessed the majority of plotlines, and this guy seemed to be ripped straight from one of the less serious ones.
Dressed in a bizarre mix of cowboy and ninja attire, complete with an accent that sounded like a bad rap, he looked like the love child of a spaghetti western and a poorly dubbed anime.
Eleven years had gone by, and it felt like an eternity since he’d encountered someone sporting such a ridiculous getup.
Tsunade didn’t care if he was joking or not; when she was alone, she truly feared no one—especially not a cowboy ninja who looked like he might break into song at any moment.
“What’s your name, and why are you out here in the middle of the night, trying to audition for a role in a cheesy ninja film?” she demanded, arms crossed, her tone dripping with sass.
The man dramatically removed his sunglasses, bowing deeply in a way that suggested he believed he was in a Shakespearean play.
Unfortunately, he looked more like a wind-up toy gone rogue, ready to spring into action at any moment.
He lifted his head and stared at the four of them with wide eyes, as if he had just spotted a rare Pokémon. Suddenly, he pointed at Tsunade, his finger shaking like a leaf caught in a gust of wind.
“Konoha Sannin, Tsuna… Tsunade!”
Tsunade grinned, a spark of amusement lighting up her features.
“Yo, you still remember me, huh?”
The man mentally kicked himself, lamenting how he had managed to stumble into this ridiculous disaster of a situation.
Here was Tsunade, the legendary Konoha Sannin and renowned ninja who had once fought the demigod Hanzo during the Second Great Ninja War.
She had made a name for herself with her groundbreaking medical ninjutsu and yet here he was, in a ninja outfit that looked like it belonged in a Halloween costume shop, trying to make small talk by a campfire.
This was going to be one for the history books—or at least a hilarious anecdote to share at the next tavern.
However, in recent years, Tsunade had taken a detour from her Hokage duties and decided to embark on an epic wanderlust adventure across the Ninja World. Talk about a mid-life crisis!
As a result, every country had detailed intel on Tsunade—even her eighth-generation ancestors had compiled an exhaustive dossier on her.
It was like they were running a ninja version of a Wikipedia page—“Did you know Tsunade once fought a giant snake with nothing but a toothpick?” Talk about an overachieving family tree!
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Suddenly, Mi Blade burst out, “I remember! You’re Killer B!”
Now, Mi Blade might have forgotten some of the minor plotlines from Naruto (who could keep track of all those fillers?), but he certainly recalled that the Jinchuriki from the Land of Thunder was known as the perfect blend of ninja, rapper, and full-time concert enthusiast! It was like he was living in a real-life anime episode.
Killer B, hearing the white-haired kid recognize him, started to sweat like a popsicle left in a sauna.
He had ventured out seeking some creative inspiration, planning to write legendary rap verses that would echo through the ages.
Little did he know he would run into Tsunade, the one ninja who could make even the toughest of opponents question their life choices and reconsider their career paths.
He thought to himself, "I could take Tsunade in a fight, but why would I want to? I’m just trying to vibe here!"
As a proud member of the village, he had always enjoyed the village's protective embrace, but as a free-spirited music composer, that protection felt a little too much like being wrapped in bubble wrap—suffocating and not at all conducive to creativity.
He could practically hear his inner artist crying out for freedom!
So, he had done the sensible thing: he ran away from the village. Classic Killer B move!
But now, if it came down to a showdown with Tsunade and he couldn’t pull off a win, he knew the village would come looking for him with pitchforks and torches.
Not exactly the kind of crowd you wanted to perform for—he preferred audiences that cheered, not jeered!
Tsunade squinted, her ninja senses kicking in as she realized who she was dealing with.
“Killer B? The Jinchuriki of the Eight-Tails? You could have warned me, dude!”
The major ninja villages kept the powers of their Jinchuriki a secret, but Tsunade, being the former mentee of the Hokage, had definitely heard about Killer B’s legendary rap battles.
She half expected him to break into a freestyle at any moment, maybe using her as a punchline.
“Yo, Tsunade, I’m not scared of a brawl,But if we rap, I’ll rise above it all!”
Just another day in the chaotic, unpredictable world of ninja life!
Scanning the area cautiously, Tsunade thought,
"If Yunyin let their Jinchuriki loose, I might need to get my running shoes on—because I can’t afford to get cornered by a rapping monster!"
And there he was, Killer B, standing awkwardly in the wilderness, looking like he was waiting for a jam session but likely facing a battle of wits with Tsunade instead.
She locked eyes with Killer B but addressed the empty air around her, “Hey, I know you’re here. We’re just passing through the Land of Thunder and really don’t want to cause any trouble—unless you have snacks. Then we might negotiate.”
For a moment, everyone was stunned into silence, staring at her like she had just asked them to juggle cats while doing the cha-cha.
Tsunade's unexpected words shocked Shizune and Naka, who were pondering the very real possibility of ninja ambush.
Wait, are we really surrounded by Yunnin? Did even the Raikage think we were that interesting? Do we have such big faces that they sent their best to watch us?
After a few awkward seconds of staring into the void, Tsunade grew impatient and shouted,
“Seriously, are you still hiding like a turtle in its shell?”
At that moment, Killer B realized what was going on. It seemed Tsunade had completely misunderstood the situation.
To avoid conflict, he stopped rapping and stepped out, exclaiming, “Tsunade, don’t shout! It’s just me—your friendly neighborhood Jinchuriki!”
“Just you?” Tsunade raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“I mean, who knew the Raikage would send out the Eight-Tails to play hide-and-seek?”
Killer B, sensing Tsunade’s disbelief, immediately jumped into full performance mode:
“I am Killer B, the Jinchuriki of the Eight-Tails,
A singer and performer from Yunyin Ninja Village!
I’m bursting with energy, my charm shines like a disco ball,
And Rabbi Shabiki is me! Yes, yo, the song of death!”
“Shut up, you idiot!” Tsunade barked at Killer B, who was still striking poses like he was on the cover of a ninja fashion magazine.
“You look like a mix between a scarecrow and a clown, and you’re singing? I’ve heard dying cats sound better!”
Killer B shot back, “You can insult my looks, you can insult my age, but you can’t insult my art! That’s a crime against creativity!”
Tsunade smirked, “Oh, I don’t know, it feels like a public service!”
“Idiot, jerk! Killer B’s rap is the best! You don’t get it? Just throw yourself away!”
“I can’t take it anymore!”
Tsunade’s language battle was clearly one-sided. She underestimated Killer B's fierce dedication to rap in the Ninja world.
After Tsunade boldly declared, “I’ve never heard anyone sing so unpleasantly,” the conflict escalated faster than a ninja throwing shurikens.
Fueled by indignation, Killer B launched into a fresh burst of rhythmic rap, his hands flailing dramatically as if he were trying to swat away the very air that was stifling his art.
Meanwhile, Tsunade felt her patience fraying like an old ninja’s headband that had seen better days.
As he rapped about “slicing beats like shuriken,” Tsunade couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“Seriously, you should consider taking it easy. I think I just lost three IQ points listening to that!”
Killer B, undeterred, turned up the volume, “Yo, listen up! This is my heart, my soul, my flow! You can’t handle this lyrical glow!”
The sky darkened ominously as Tsunade’s brow furrowed deeper.
“You call that a glow? It’s more like a faint flicker. If you’re trying to blind me with your talent, I’m afraid the lights have dimmed!”
As the verbal spat continued, the moon overhead watched with a bemused expression, wishing it had brought popcorn for this ninja showdown of epic—if not absurd—proportions.
At this moment, Tsunade resembled a little bull demon from Journey to the West, poised to kidnap the Tang Monk at the slightest provocation—she’d explode if she heard “your mother’s name” one more time.
Killer B, blissfully ignorant of the brewing storm, was like the invincible Tang Seng, happily rapping away as if he were the main character in his own musical.
Tsunade clenched her fists, her chakra bubbling with rage like boiling water on a hot stove, and her blood felt hotter than a bowl of spicy ramen.
The trio—Shizune, Naka, and Miblade—exchanged nervous glances, silently acknowledging that in about ten seconds, Tsunade would unleash a punch that would send Killer B’s big head spinning like a top.
Did Killer B have any idea what kind of tempest was brewing? Apparently not, as he continued rapping with all the confidence of a kid in a talent show, completely unfazed by Tsunade’s darkening mood.
“I’m tired of my heart, traveling is a blast, what’s the problem here?” he declared, unaware that the problem was him.
If this turned into a showdown with the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki right here, Miblade knew he’d be the one left to pick up the pieces, desperately trying to mend diplomatic relations that could get wrecked in a matter of moments.
Complete nonsense, right? But would he dare to tell Tsunade to chill out?
“Hey, Killer B!” Miblade finally shouted, channeling his inner peacemaker.
“How about you drop a chill rap instead? One that doesn’t make Tsunade want to throw you into the next dimension?”
Tsunade nodded vigorously, her eyes still narrowed.
“Yeah! Something nice and calm—like a lullaby!”
Killer B paused, scratching his head as if he were trying to process the concept of a lullaby for the first time.
“A lullaby? You mean I should rap about napping and puppies? Yo, I can do that!”
At that, Tsunade couldn’t help but laugh, her fists loosening just a bit.
“Now we’re getting somewhere!”
“Word!” Killer B grinned, his face lighting up as he prepared to drop the most ridiculous lullaby rap anyone had ever heard.
Miblade, sensing the tension easing but still wary of Tsunade’s short fuse, sprinted a few steps forward, positioning himself like a human shield between the two.
“Miblade, what are you doing?” Tsunade snapped, her anger radiating like a heatwave in the middle of summer.
“Get down, get down! Tsunade-sama, look at my dad’s face! We can’t let this turn into a family feud! Let’s just go back and take a nap or something!”
Miblade was aiming to cool off the furious Tsunade while simultaneously trying to steer Killer B away from any further provocation.