Chapter 133: Makima and Masamichi Yaga Are Anomalies to Souta
Second, there exists an advanced level of Nature Transformation — the ability to combine two basic elemental natures to create an entirely new element. Only a handful of shinobi ever reach this level.
For example, merging the Water and Wind elements to form Ice, or combining Fire and Earth to create Lava.
This kind of power requires not only immense chakra reserves, but also an extraordinary degree of control over the very nature of those elements themselves.
Then comes the third category — the Kekkei Genkai, a unique genetic inheritance that grants its wielder an unmatched way to manipulate their own body. One of the most famous examples is Kimimaro's Shikotsumyaku, the ability to manipulate the structure of one's bones.
Kimimaro could sprout new bones as weapons, or harden his skeleton to create an armor nearly impossible to penetrate. Powers like these often demanded an almost inhuman body — one capable of enduring unimaginable pain and pressure.
That is why, within the shinobi world, Kekkei Genkai are considered sacred legacies — rare bloodlines passed down from generation to generation, symbols of power and destiny intertwined.
That's also why, in the Naruto anime, even though Pakura of Sunagakure was not given much screen time, her mere presence left a mark in the hearts of fans.
Pakura was like a lingering ember in the endless desert of Sunagakure — small, yes, but hot enough to burn anyone who dared underestimate her.
After all, Pakura was one of the rare few who possessed a Kekkei Genkai. And that fact alone was enough to make Souta's curiosity toward her impossible to suppress.
"No. Besides, if I use it carelessly, it could be dangerous, don't you think?" Pakura shook her head slightly. Her voice was calm, yet there was a faint undertone of solemnity beneath it.
Her eyes gazed straight ahead, as if recalling something from the past — a memory that made the word dangerous sound heavier than a mere warning.
"That's true… I didn't think of that. Sorry." Souta nodded lightly. His expression was a little awkward but sincere. He knew he had gotten carried away again — that his curiosity often blinded him to the risks others had to bear.
"It's fine. Besides, Makima can't use her Kekkei Genkai yet either," Pakura said as she descended the staircase. Her steps were light but steady, echoing softly against the cold walls of the stairwell, harmonizing with the sound of Souta's footsteps trailing behind her.
Makima. Yes — Makima.
From the very beginning, Souta had always thought of her as a strange anomaly in the world of Naruto. That thought haunted him every time he looked at her — the way Makima's eyes seemed to see through everything, the graceful yet eerie composure of her movements, even the rhythm of her speech… everything about her felt off.
And to make things even stranger, Makima possessed the Ice Kekkei Genkai — something so rare that even within the ninja world, few could comprehend it.
To Souta, Makima was not merely a character. She was a living contradiction, a walking paradox — an existence that defied the logic of the world she was supposed to belong to. No matter how many times he tried to reason it out, the mystery only deepened.
That was how it began — the moment when everything started to feel slightly out of place, though still within the realm of laughter and disbelief.
But everything changed when Masamichi Yaga appeared — and took the role of their mentor.
That was when Souta's doubts began to fester. He started to question the logic of this entire world:
Why was Makima here?
Why was Yaga — who should belong to the world of Jujutsu Kaisen — suddenly standing before them as their teacher in the Naruto universe?
Inside him, Souta began to feel something unsettling, a faint awareness that perhaps this world wasn't just a fictional one.
Maybe this world wasn't something written, but something realized — a fabricated reality where fiction and existence blurred together.
And now, Souta no longer cared about the truth of it. He no longer cared whether this world was real or absurd, whether he was still in his original world or trapped within some incomprehensible dimension.
All he wished for now was survival — to live long enough to understand what was truly happening.
Long enough to uncover why the world itself felt like an elaborate illusion wrapped in familiar names and borrowed faces.
Long enough to discover what kind of story he had unknowingly become a part of.
...
Chapter 134: Miki, Makima's Mother
That morning, the air felt crisp and slightly cold, brushing softly against their skin as they stepped out of the apartment building. Along the street, sunlight pierced through the gaps between leaves and glimmered on the wet pavement, remnants of the night's rain still clinging faintly to the stones.
The smell of damp earth mingled with the faint fragrance of flowers from the roadside stalls, creating a fresh, serene atmosphere — yet inside Souta's mind, his thoughts spun endlessly like a whirlpool that refused to stop.
During their walk, Souta kept chatting with Pakura. Their voices intertwined naturally with the bustling rhythm of morning life in Sunagakure — merchants pulling up shutters to open their shops, children laughing as they ran toward the academy, and the hurried footsteps of villagers beginning their daily work.
They walked side by side among the crowd, but the two of them stood out effortlessly; the aura of shinobi they carried could never truly be hidden.
They passed rows of small shops and old houses, their walls painted by years of sand and wind. The breeze carried with it the faint, tinkling sound of wind chimes from a nearby rooftop, weaving a soft melody that accompanied their slow, steady steps.
That day, their destination was the Twenty-Third Training Hall — an area located near the eastern district border, not too far from where Makima lived.
After walking for quite some time, Souta and Pakura finally arrived in front of Makima's house. The house was modest but well-kept, with a small garden blooming in front — rows of white and violet flowers swayed lightly in the morning breeze as if welcoming their arrival.
On the porch, a pair of neatly placed beige sandals rested by the door, small but elegant, hinting at the owner's tidy nature.
As they had agreed the night before, Souta and Pakura had promised to pick Makima up so they could go to the Twenty-Third Training Hall together.
"Excuse me! Makima! We're here!" Souta called out as he knocked on the door, his voice loud enough to echo faintly against the neighboring walls. A brief silence followed, then the sound of footsteps approached from inside.
A moment later, the door slid open.
A woman appeared in the doorway — and for an instant, Souta froze. That woman… looked exactly like Makima from the anime Chainsaw Man. The resemblance was so uncanny that Souta involuntarily held his breath.
Her hair, however, was different — slightly shorter and jet black instead of that pale crimson hue burned into Souta's memory. But her eyes — those golden-yellow eyes — shone with the same tranquil strength. Her gaze was gentle yet piercing, carrying an unspoken authority that seemed capable of reading straight into a person's heart with a single glance.
"Ah, Aunt Miki!" Souta greeted quickly with a polite smile, masking his surprise beneath a veneer of stiff courtesy.
Yes, this woman was none other than Makima's mother — Miki.
The first time Souta and Pakura saw her, they had both thought Makima must have had an older sister, because Miki's face and aura radiated youth. Her skin was fair and smooth, her posture elegant yet natural — she could easily have been mistaken for Makima's twin, only with a more mature air.
It was only later, after Makima's casual explanation, that they learned the truth: this was indeed her mother.
"Oh my, Souta-kun! Pakura-chan!" Miki exclaimed warmly, her voice carrying that distinct tone of maternal gentleness that instantly broke the stiffness of the moment.
"You're here to pick up Makima, aren't you? Just a moment!" She turned toward the inside of the house and called out, her voice firm yet sweet, "Makima! Hurry up, dear! Your friends are waiting for you!"
From inside, hurried footsteps could be heard, followed by the creak of a door opening.
"Yes, Mom!" came Makima's calm yet spirited reply. A few seconds later, she appeared at the entrance.
Makima was dressed in a soft light-blue outfit, a small emblem embroidered neatly on her shoulder. Her long hair was tied simply at the back, a few strands falling freely to frame her cheeks — it softened her expression while still giving her an air of quiet confidence.
She offered a faint, composed smile, the kind that was calm yet carried a subtle, unreadable depth — the same smile that often made Souta wonder what she was truly thinking behind those golden eyes.
"Have you been waiting long?" Makima asked politely, her tone gentle with a touch of apology.
"Not at all, we just arrived," Pakura replied, shaking her head slightly. Her small smile conveyed patience and warmth — the kind that made even the simplest moments feel harmonious.
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