Chapter 38: "How to Ruin a Cursed Sword's Ego in 10 Days (Or One Blood Moon)"
A Memoir by Naruto Uzumaki, Dino Rider, Hero, Professional Sword Therapist
So, remember how I said Shikamaru agreed to let the cursed sword hitch a ride in his brain?
Yeah. He actually did it.
Then he took a nap.
Right in the middle of a half-destroyed courtyard, with Tenten still holding up floating lances and chakra cannons, and Saga twitching on the ground like he'd just been dunked in a lightning storm.
Shikamaru lay down, folded his hands under his head, and just slept.
And get this—the sword was still trying to whisper dark, ominous nothings into his head like, "Submit to me," and "Embrace the darkness," and "Together, we shall conquer fate."
But nope. Shikamaru was snoring.
Honestly, I think the sword was more traumatized than Saga.
See, what people don't get about Shikamaru is that his laziness isn't just being chill—it's strategic. This guy's got his whole life planned out just so he can relax. Danger level? Calculated. Escape routes? Memorized. Weather conditions for optimal napping? Tracked.
Dude wants to be a desk employee. Let me say that again:
Desk. Employee.
Even though he's next in line to lead the Nara clan.
Poor Nara clan. First they had Shikaku, the guy who made strategy look like an art form. Now they're getting his son, whose future wife is the type to throw wind scythes and opinions with equal force. Yeah, that's right. Temari.
I still don't know how that happened.
They met during the Chūnin Exams, right? She literally tried to break him in half. He outsmarted her with his shadows. You'd think that would be the end of it. Boom. Rivalry. Done.
But noooo. Apparently, "you tricked me and humiliated me in front of my brothers" translates to "I wanna marry you and raise a politically powerful family."
Love, man. Totally whack.
Anyway, the sword (who at this point I'm calling Drama Blade) kept whining in Shikamaru's head about honor and sacred duels and how we were a bunch of dishonorable worms for stopping the fight.
That's when Choji, bless his eternally hungry heart, asked,
"Wait… is honor something we can eat?"
We all stared at him.
"No, Choji," I sighed, "honor's not food."
"Then what's the point?" he asked with a perfectly straight face.
Fair question.
Tenten chimed in with a shrug. "We're ninja. Not samurai. Honor doesn't pay the bills or win fights. If fighting naked gave us the win, we'd do it."
Everyone paused.
I could practically hear Lee nodding in the distance.
Scary.
As for me? I was still hiding behind some rubble, letting everyone else deal with the cursed artifact that wanted to stab everyone's soul out. Not because I was scared—obviously not—but because the sword had a creepy aura and a major superiority complex.
But then something changed.
After Tenten had that whole heart-to-blade conversation earlier (which, by the way, still weirds me out), the sword grudgingly agreed to a temporary contract. Not full surrender. More like a truce.
Then it said this:
"Wait for the Blood Moon. Then, I shall show you my true power."
Cue the dramatic wind. The ominous music. The whole ancient-prophecy vibe.
Apparently, there's a Blood Moon that happens once every hundred years. Total cursed weapon holiday. Big spiritual buffet. All the sealed weapons come out to party and level up. Only this one? It had been sealed away too long. So it missed the last few.
Now it was hungry.
Tenten, being Tenten, just smirked. "Fine. We'll wait. You can try again then. Not that it'll change anything."
The sword buzzed in her hands. "You dare mock me?"
"Oh, sweetheart," she said, flexing her fingers. "You haven't seen anything yet."
She dropped the bomb right then and there. "Do you know I always wear at least 10,000 tonnes on my body?"
"Oh yeah," she continued casually, "I use weighted gear for training. Helps me build muscle and channel chakra. And if I really wanted to go all-out, I could multiply my strength several times over."
She didn't say how.
She didn't need to.
But I knew.
The Gates.
Lee's secret move. The chakra gates that boost your power like crazy but come with the risk of basically exploding your own body. But Tenten? She was different. She could only open the first two—maybe three—because after that, her telekinesis would short out. No mind-chucking weapons at lightning speed. Just pure brute force and sheer muscle memory.
Still terrifying.
The sword, to its credit, didn't panic. But you could tell it was sweating spiritually.
"We shall see," it said, dignity clinging to its metaphorical shoulders like a tattered cape. "When the Blood Moon rises, we will see who truly holds power. I will laugh last."
Tenten leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Can't wait."
Me? I stood up finally, dusted myself off, and muttered under my breath:
"Yeah. It's gonna be Tenten. Poor sword's already doomed."
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So, once the cursed blade finished monologuing about blood moons and vengeance and how it was definitely going to win next time (spoiler alert: no, it won't), we were left with one unconscious Saga, one sleeping Shikamaru, and a sword with more pride issues than Sasuke during a bad hair day.
Tenten, who now held the "probably cursed but lowkey cool" sword contract, nodded like a boss and said, "Let's move out."
And then Choji—legend, king of snacks, MVP of soft hearts—created an actual earth bed with chakra and Doton-style finesse for Shikamaru to nap on.
Let me repeat that:
An earth bed.
As in, Choji casually sculpted a perfectly smooth, memory-foam-level rock mattress out of the ground, complete with a pillow ledge and built-in snack tray. Probably.
Shikamaru didn't even flinch. Still drooling. Still dreaming about spreadsheets and escape routes.
"Guy sleeps harder than Akamaru after bath day," Kiba muttered.
I wasn't sure whether to laugh or agree, so I did both.
Anyway, Choji lifted the whole bed like a boss and started walking toward the nearest building we hadn't blown up during the fight: the Marine Dojo. It had nice floors, big space, and smelled faintly of fish and bad decisions. We decided to "borrow" it for now. Ninja code: if you beat a place's biggest threat, you get to claim the house.
Tenten followed along with her shiny new sword-friend floating beside her like an ominous balloon of doom. Kankuro, who apparently had a secret hobby of collecting cursed objects (seriously, what's with these Sand Siblings?), came too, itching to poke at it with chakra threads and curse-detecting seals.
Neji came with them because let's face it—Tenten plus Kankuro equals guaranteed chaos. Neji was there for supervision. He did not volunteer. He was assigned.
"I am not a babysitter," he said flatly as he walked off.
"Sure, sure," I called. "But if they start sword-summoning cursed puppets, I'm gonna say you approved it!"
The glare he shot me could've melted steel.
Back with us normals, Hinata kneeled next to Saga and started her healing work. Her hands glowed with that soft green chakra light as she pressed them gently to his chest. She was calm, focused… graceful, even.
Kiba sat nearby, arms crossed, looking like he wanted to help but also not get in the way. Akamaru was curled up at his feet, wagging his tail like good job, team!.
I leaned in and used a few basic medical scans—not that I'm a pro, but I've picked up a thing or two from Tsunade-obaachan yelling at me every time I got pancaked during training.
I checked Saga over for curse after-effects: corrupted chakra flows, dark spots in the tenketsu, or anything that screamed possessed object still whispering evil nonsense inside him.
Nothing. Clean slate.
"Looks like he's good," I said, scratching my head. "No curse leaks, no dark fog, and his hair's still fluffy, so that's a win."
Hinata smiled faintly. "He'll wake up in a few hours. His body's still adjusting."
I nodded. "Cool. As long as he doesn't wake up screaming about vengeance or swearing an eternal sword bromance, we're golden."
Saga stirred slightly. Just a groan, like a guy waking up after pulling an all-nighter and forgetting his coffee.
Hinata gently pressed her hand to his forehead, soothing chakra flowing through. "Rest," she whispered.
He relaxed again.
We all sat back, just breathing for a moment.
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Okay, look—I know what you're thinking. "Naruto, why are you riding a Triceratops into town like you're starring in the prehistoric version of a samurai movie?"
And to that, I say: Why not?!
With Saga secured, sword drama postponed until the blood moon, and everyone half-conscious or emotionally wrecked, I figured it was time to make a statement. A cool one.
So, naturally, I summoned Spike.
Yeah. That's his name. Spike the Triceratops.
I tamed him back in Little Garden—one of those weird, ancient zones you stumble into and barely survive. You know the type. I ended up feeding him my chakra and even let Kurama lend some of his too, and now the guy's basically a walking fortress with horns and personality.
Before you ask: yes, he's gotten way bigger. Like tripled in size bigger.
Ten meters tall? Try thirty.
Thirty meters long? Try "you need a mountain pass clearance" long.
Also, he can now control earth. Minorly, sure, but minor earth powers for a dinosaur still mean giant lances of doom and sliding through the ground like it's a ninja slip-n-slide.
Hinata looked up—waaay up—as Spike stomped out of the summon dimension, shook the dirt off his tail, and gave a satisfied roar that probably triggered a few minor earthquakes.
"Naruto," she said sweetly, with just a touch of please explain yourself before I crush your ribs. "Is this really… necessary?"
I smiled like the innocent hero I am. "Hinata. We just saved the day. This isn't just necessary—it's destiny. Every hero deserves a dramatic ride into town after a big win."
Kiba, to his eternal credit, nodded like he'd just found spiritual enlightenment. "Honestly? I've always wanted to do the whole 'riding into the sunset on a beast of legend' thing too."
Hinata looked between us. Then sighed. "You boys…"
"Men," I corrected.
"Barely."
Anyway, with Saga lying across Spike's back (in a comfy chakra hammock, thank you very much), and Hinata up front doing healer duty, we made our way into town.
It. Was. Glorious.
Villagers stared. Kids screamed. A dog ran the other way. One old lady fainted, probably from how awesome we looked. And somewhere in the distance, dramatic music was definitely playing in my head.
Spike's feet boomed on the ground like thunder. Every few steps he did this little earth-glide move—just enough to look like we were surfing the dirt. I may have told him to do that on purpose. For effect.
As we reached the main plaza, Sakura was already there.
She took one look at the dino.
At Saga being carried like a passed-out prince.
At me grinning like I just won the lottery.
And she facepalmed. Deep sigh and everything. Pure forehead-to-palm contact.
"Why am I not surprised," she muttered.
Ino, on the other hand, gasped like she just saw her favorite boy band in concert. "Oh. My. Kami."
She ran forward—and then, in true Ino fashion, jumped on Spike's side like it was her personal party platform. As she landed, she spun midair and aimed a flying kick straight at Kiba's smug face.
Kiba blocked it, grinned, and rolled back like a pro, sticking the landing with a casual shrug.
"Nice try," he said.
"Still fun," Ino shot back.
Meanwhile, the townspeople were starting to gather. There were gasps and whispers when they spotted Saga. Some stepped back in fear. Some cheered. A few just stared like they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
And then, bursting through the crowd like a bullet of pure emotion, came Maya.
She skidded to a halt in front of Spike, panting hard, hair slightly frazzled, and eyes locked on Saga like her entire world might collapse.
"Is… is he okay?!" she asked, her voice cracking.
Hinata looked down at her gently. "He'll be fine. He just needs rest."
Maya let out a shaky breath and wiped her eyes. "Thank goodness…"
I gave her a thumbs-up. "Told ya we got this. Now all that's left is snacks, recovery naps, and waiting for a blood moon showdown with a moody sword."
She blinked. "A… what?"
"Long story," Kiba said.
"Epic story," I corrected.
"Ridiculous story," Sakura added.
But deep down—even behind the facepalms and sighs—I could tell they were proud.
We made a statement. Not just with explosions and fights, but with the kind of entrance people remember.
That's how heroes do it.
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Okay, so after the whole epic dinosaur ride thing (which, by the way, was even cooler than it sounds), we did what any victorious ninja squad would do:
We put Saga in his actual house this time. Not the temple. Not the dojo. Not "random shrine of old creepy spiritual energy." His house. With beds. Pillows. Possibly snacks. You know—things that don't attract curses and ancient blades with mood swings.
Maya immediately went into Overprotective Guardian mode. She was sweeping the house like she was looking for hidden traps, ancient seals, and maybe a ghost that didn't sign the roommate agreement. She even pulled out her glowing purification scrolls and practically whispered, "I dare a curse to show itself right now."
Spoiler: no curse dared.
Meanwhile, the rest of us sat around the living room, still smelling vaguely like dinosaur and dramatic tension, talking to Izaya and Maya about the whole sword situation.
"So let me get this straight," Izaya said slowly, brushing back her hair like she was trying to mentally detangle the mess we just dumped on her. "You talked to the blade."
"Yup," I said proudly, flopping onto a beanbag. "Very chatty. Bit of a drama king."
"And you're letting it absorb power from the upcoming blood moon, which only happens once every century, just so it can…"
"Go through character development," I finished. "Yeah."
Maya blinked. "Wait… you're letting the cursed sword power up?"
"Yep!" I grinned. "We figured it deserved a proper arc, you know? Let it hit its peak, then boom, introduce it to depression and an inferiority complex. Build character."
Sakura groaned. "Naruto…"
"No, no, she needs to hear this!" I waved a finger dramatically. "This sword's been sealed for, like, centuries. It missed every major blood moon party. No snacks. No screams. No ominous laughter echoing across the mountain tops. I say we let it have one big night before we emotionally annihilate it."
"That's your strategy?" Izaya asked, somewhere between baffled and intrigued.
"Of course. It's like… villain therapy. We break it down emotionally and rebuild it into a reluctant antihero with trust issues. Tenten's already halfway there with her intimidating energy and ability to casually lift a building."
Kiba nodded like this made total sense. "Honestly, I'd read that book."
"But what if it goes rogue?" Maya asked.
"Then we hit it really hard," Gai said cheerfully, clenching his fist. "With the Power of Youth."
Lee sparkled beside him. "And Justice!"
Hinata gently sipped her tea like she was trying to ignore the chaos surrounding her. I couldn't blame her. If I had her patience, I might actually pass a test without cramming.
I leaned forward. "Look, the sword's got ego issues. It thinks it's better than us. But when it sees Tenten fight under the blood moon while casually wearing ten thousand tons of weights and holding back her real abilities, it's going to have a breakdown."
Ino smirked. "Honestly, it sounds like Tenten's not just fighting it—she's giving it a whole existential crisis."
"Exactly!" I pointed at her. "We're not fighting with fists. We're fighting with psychology."
"I'm not sure if that's brilliant or insane," Izaya mumbled.
Maya just shook her head with a sigh. "I can't decide whether to scold you or thank you."
"You can do both," Sakura offered. "We're used to it."
Outside, I could see Spike the Triceratops lying in a makeshift earth pit like he was on vacation. He snorted once, and a boulder casually rolled off his back.
This whole day had been chaos. Curse battles, drama, teenage heroics, a dinosaur entrance... and now we were emotionally manipulating a sentient sword into a self-esteem spiral. Honestly? Just another adventure.
But we were together. Safe. And for once… I think we gave the bad guy a reason to panic for something other than a Rasengan.
So yeah.
Let the cursed sword have its blood moon.
Because when it's over?
We're gonna be the reason it needs therapy.