Hi lads.
How y'all doing.
This is the last filler chapter for now, starting next chapter, things will really explode in intensity.
So do enjoy this moment of relaxation!
Start:
U.A. University slumbered beneath a velvet sky, the stars muted by the low-hanging fog that draped the campus like a silencing curtain. The courtyards were still.
Not a soul stirred—except one.
Click.
A window on the third floor of the west wing quietly latched shut from the inside. A figure in a jet-black tuxedo with gray-striped slacks slinked out into the open corridor and crept down the empty hall, leather soles whispering against tile.
The fabric of his formal jacket fluttered at the edges like it had a sense of humor. The mask on his head was obscene—a full yellow banana with oversized sunglasses masking everything. Not that it mattered. The man's confidence walked ahead of him.
Sukuna—Naruto's flamboyant persona—moved with a bounce in his step as he exited the last room on his list, hands tucked neatly in his jacket pockets. The last prank had been placed, just like the others.
It was beautiful. Immaculate.
A masterpiece of detonation seals and theft on an international scale. The kind of prank only someone utterly insane and disturbingly clever could pull off.
He turned down the main steps that descended from the humanities building, humming some off-key jazz tune, his banana mask tilted upward toward the moon as if basking in divine approval.
That's when the unmistakable crunch of boots stopped him cold.
He froze at the base of the steps. The soft scuff came again—from the eastern side of the courtyard, beyond the sculpture garden where hedges sprawled like sentries. Sukuna's head snapped toward the sound with sharp interest, already knowing what it meant.
Sure enough, out from the mist walked the angel in white.
Mirko.
Thick thighs rolling with each grounded step, her skin glistening faintly under the lamplight. That sleeveless, high-cut bodysuit of hers was as scandalous as it was deadly—showcasing the softness of a woman and the raw power of a predator.
Both of them stopped.
For two full seconds, neither moved. Her red eyes narrowed. His masked head cocked to the side.
"Damn," Sukuna murmured, hands slowly withdrawing from his pockets. "Tonight just got dangerously sexy."
"You've got to be shitting me," Mirko growled, her voice low and venomous. "What the hell are you doing on campus now!?"
He tapped his chin through the banana. "What am I ever doing? Breathing. Being gorgeous. Making your nights interesting."
Naruto couldn't help but add. "Right, Bunny-Chan?"
That pissed her off. "Wrong answer." She stepped forward, knuckles cracking.
She bolted.
Her first move was pure instinct—no wasted motion. She blitzed forward in a white blur, heel gouging the stone path beneath her as she pushed off. Sukuna sidestepped cleanly, his body angling away at the last second as her punch sliced through air, a whisper from his ribs. He twirled on one heel and danced backwards up the stairs.
"Nice try, bunny girl," he teased, slipping between marble columns at the building's entrance. "But you're gonna have to buy me dinner before you touch me so ferociously."
Mirko didn't reply. She vaulted after him, turning a sprint into a leap, her knee crashing into the pillar he'd just ducked behind. Stone fractured. Sukuna was already gone—flipping backward down the steps like gravity didn't apply.
She followed. Every move she made was tight, controlled, violent. Her leg snapped out in a roundhouse kick aimed for his head. Sukuna ducked, felt the wind shear his tuxedo collar, then dropped low and cartwheeled to the side as her other leg came screaming across in a follow-up.
"Woah-ho! That wasn't half bad!"
Her eyes narrowed. She charged again, this time low—feinting a tackle. Sukuna raised a brow, only for her leg to pivot mid-dash, her body twisting into a handstand, legs spread far apart and then—
CRACK!
Her heel came down in a vertical arc like a guillotine. Sukuna brought his forearms up in a tight X, catching her strike just before it could cave in his skull. The ground beneath him split from the force.
But Mirko was far from done.
Still in her handstand, she pivoted on one palm and threw her opposite leg out in a wide, arcing kick. It caught him by surprise, slamming across his cheek with a brutal snap.
Sukuna's body skidded backward, boots carving trails into the dewed stone. His head whipped sideways.
He brought his fingers to the bottom end of his mask, lifting it slightly and revealing his jaw and mouth, touching his mouth before he brought his hand before his masked eyes.
Blood—traces of blood was on his hand, from the busted lip that Mirko gave him.
He stared at her, stunned.
Mirko landed in a crouch, chest rising and falling just enough to betray her excitement.
"That's the first time you've ever landed a hit on me," Sukuna said, straightening and wiping the blood with the back of his glove. "Congratulations, sweetheart. You popped my cherry."
Though inwardly, his respect for her had gone up.
"I'm not done," she spat, though the grin on her face betrayed her happiness.
She came again—this time with fire in her veins.
They clashed on the open lawn, surrounded by silent hedges and the looming towers of U.A. Mirko unleashed a flurry of kicks, one after the other—high, low, spinning. Sukuna weaved through them, tilting his head an inch left to let a kick whip by, ducking under another, twisting with feline precision. One of her jabs nearly caught his jaw, but his hand shot up and deflected it, palm brushing the inside of her wrist.
"You're more flexible than I thought," he mused. "And I've thought about it a lot."
Mirko snarled and spun into a heel kick meant to flatten his nose. He leaned back in a limbo arch, the sole of her foot grazing his banana mask. He sprang forward off one hand and vaulted over her as she pivoted to attack again.
Their fight moved toward the administrative building, then up—Sukuna scaling the drainpipe like a squirrel while Mirko used a ledge to launch herself up in a vertical burst. They met on the rooftop, a gust of wind catching her hair and his coattails alike.
This time, she struck first—her fists blurring as she threw a combination of jabs and elbows meant to break through his guard. Sukuna deflected each with open palms, stepping into her space to ruin her footing.
But she adapted.
She dropped into a low stance, swept his feet out from under him with a scissor kick, and followed with a downward stomp. Sukuna caught himself mid-fall, twisted sideways in the air, and slapped a palm against the roof to redirect himself away. Her foot smashed into the shingles where his head had been.
As he landed on his feet, he turned tail and ran. And Mirko followed, landing in a full sprint behind him.
The chase bled into sparring. Sukuna would leap to a rooftop, and she'd pursue with a dropkick that shook tiles. He'd catch her leg mid-air, only for her to twist and use the torque to swing the other foot at his temple.
They spun around chimney stacks, vaulted over ventilation ducts. Sukuna occasionally vanished in a flicker of motion, only to reappear three meters behind her, grinning.
He struck once—palming her shoulder to redirect her next attack. She turned with the motion and aimed an elbow at his head. He ducked, caught her arm under his, and spun her backward.
She used the momentum, rolled through it, and exploded into a jumping axe kick.
He blocked it just in time—both hands raised above his head, absorbing the strike with a grunt before forcing her off through sheer physical force, sending her flying upwards though she rotated so she'd land on her feet.
The silence after was thick.
Then Sukuna laughed.
"I gotta say, this is way more fun than watching TV."
Mirko slowly stepped towards him, a bloodthirsty grin on her face.
And the rooftop duel continued.
Or… it was supposed to continue, but Naruto/Sukuna had other plans as he sent her a flying kiss before immediately fleeing the other way.
Mirko bolted after him without hesitation. Not entirely surprised as he'd made it a habit of doing this cat and mouse game.
They raced across U.A.'s expansive grounds and rooftops, Sukuna leading with acrobatic flair. He darted up a stairwell on the side of the library, vaulted over a railing, and crashed through a double door into the upper floors. His tuxedo tails flapped behind him like a taunt, each footfall echoing through the dimly lit hall.
He then jumped into a wall before springing off said wall to flip through an open classroom doorway.
Mirko followed like a missile, cutting corners with animalistic precision. Her thighs pumped with furious strength as she launched over desks, leapt through open windows, and pounded through corridors. The fog of the outer night lingered outside, but inside, fluorescent lights flickered dimly, casting their chase in shadow and rhythm.
Sukuna burst through another door, skidding into the courtyard that connected two buildings. He planted one foot on a garden bench and launched himself upward—kicking off a decorative column to reach the rooftop of the administration wing.
Mirko followed without pause.
She sprinted straight through the courtyard, dodging around hedges and benches, then vaulted off the second-story balcony. Her shoulder crashed into the stone ledge of the admin rooftop, and she used it to swing herself up with brute force.
Sukuna was already sprinting again, weaving between rows of solar panels bolted to the roof. He jumped across to the neighboring dormitory building, his feet hitting the edge before vanishing into another stairwell access.
The rabbit heroine followed. Her boots clanged against the edge as she hurled herself after him, landing in a crouch with a low grunt. She sprinted after him through the tight metal stairwell, ears brushing the ceiling.
He dove out a third-floor door into another hallway, knocking over a janitor's mop bucket. Water splashed. She slipped slightly but righted herself mid-run, then hurled a trash can at his back.
He ducked. The can hit the wall with a metallic crunch.
"I love a girl who throws things," he shouted over his shoulder.
She didn't respond—just gave chase.
He burst through a final door that led to the outdoor terrace of the dining building. Rooftop tables and benches blurred past. He jumped up onto the sloped edge, then leapt again—his figure briefly silhouetted against the night as he soared back onto the roof of the main campus hall.
Mirko followed once more, gritting her teeth as she landed in a sprint.
But then—he was gone.
She slid to a stop at the top of the rooftop incline. Her breath came steady but sharp. She scanned the moonlit surroundings. Nothing. No footsteps, no mocking voice. Just the wind brushing her cheeks and the faint sound of rustling leaves in the courtyard below.
"Shit…"
She leaned over the rooftop edge, her back arched slightly as she scanned the misty courtyard below. The silence was thick, broken only by the quiet thrum of her breathing. Fog clung to the night air like a veil, and her ears twitched, tracking for movement—but there was nothing.
The way her body leaned forward wasn't deliberate, but the position did her no favors.
Not that Mirko was aware as she continuously searched for the villain.
Her ass—impossibly thick and wide—jutted out behind her in obscene glory. That bodysuit she wore didn't cover so much as it painted her. The fabric had been swallowed by the depths of her fat giant butt, wedging deep between those titanic jiggly mounds.
Each asscheek looked like it weighed a damn ton—massive, meaty, soft with sheer bulk and muscle coiled beneath. And yet they wobbled at the slightest shift, a slow, bouncing roll of thick flesh as her hips shifted in frustration. It was a view meant for sin, and Sukuna didn't even try to resist.
Then—
SLAP!
The sound cracked like lightning splitting the heavens. A meaty THWACK echoed across the rooftop.
Mirko's entire body jolted upright. Her ears snapped to full attention. Her eyes widened in shock, a strangled gasp tearing from her throat as her mouth dropped open.
Her ass bounced like a struck drum—jiggling in heavy waves. The sheer inertia of that slap sent shockwaves rippling through her thick flanks, each mound quivering for seconds afterward in wild defiance of gravity.
She spun around, red-faced and snarling.
"What the fuck—?!"
Ten feet back stood Sukuna, arms wide, banana mask tilted in reverence. One hand, the one that was currently ungloved, was still raised, fingers tingling.
"Oh my god," he sighed, almost tenderly. "That… that was amazing."
"You… perverted piece of shit!" she shrieked, face flaming red as her thighs shifted involuntarily, cheeks still trembling from the residual bounce.
She leapt to him and launched into a kick fast enough to rupture bone, her leg a silver blur in the night. Sukuna swayed back with an infuriatingly smooth lean, letting the heel skim past his nose.
"Missed me," he teased, quickly flipping backward onto the nearby railing to put some distance.
Mirko charged, fists clenched, heart hammering harder than it should've been.
"You little bastard!" she barked. "I will beat you up for this."
"Oh… How kinky." Sukuna replied, winking through the shades. "But I know you liked it. Your reaction speaks for itself."
Her breath hitched. That was the worst part—she should've hated it. But her body had reacted before her brain could catch up. Her thighs had clenched. Her breath had stuttered. The heat that was flushing her cheeks wasn't just anger, and she knew it.
And somehow, he knew it too!
Her face burned hotter. "I should turn your nuts into paste."
"You can squeeze 'em all you like, Bunny-chan. I won't complain."
Mirko's fists trembled, but she was stalling—and she knew it.
"You think this is a joke?!"
"I think it's the best moment of my life," Sukuna said sincerely. "And possibly yours too, judging by how long that wobble lasted."
"I know you go to U.A.," she blurted suddenly. "Nezu told me so. He doesn't know who you are yet, but eventually, I will know your real identiy."
That finally made him pause.
Sukuna stood still, the wind tugging at his tuxedo tails. Then he chuckled, low and smug.
Oh that poor bunny woman, if only she knew that he and Nezu shared a good relationship now. Nezu had long since figured out who he was thanks in part to Bee. But they shared a cordial relationship where neither minded the other.
The opposite in fact. They got along splendidly.
They never had many direct interactions, less than five actually, but the few they did had cemented their relation as one of friends with benefits, the business kind of benefits, where they scratched each others back.
A good and most recent example of that was with how the alarms and security haven't picked up anything, and how it had been just Mirko who had been after him when U.A has many professional heroes in their employment.
He had Nezu to thank for that.
Annoyed by his laughter, she growled. "Who are you?" as she stepped forward.
He backed up along the ledge, balancing like it was a dance floor.
"Just your average joe. But that's enough for tonight. see you next time."
And with that, he dropped off the edge, vanishing into the night like smoke.
Mirko stood frozen, her whole body humming with residual heat.
Her hand drifted back instinctively—resting on the spot where he'd struck her.
"…Goddamn banana freak…" she muttered.
But her hand didn't move. Not yet.
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At around the same time, elsewhere.
In the cozy dimness of U.A.'s principal office, Principal Nezu lounged like a king in a bath of decadence. The security monitors lined the wall in a soft curve behind him, each one quietly replaying feeds from different corners of the campus—though his eyes were half-lidded in bliss, not from surveillance, but from the divine pleasure of the cheese platter before him.
The plate was ridiculous. Four kinds of European imports, lovingly wrapped in cloth and ribbon, accompanied by an elegant card scrawled in banana-yellow ink: "For my favorite rodent -S".
He bit into a slice of triple-cream brie and let out a squeaky moan of approval, his little paws fluttering against the armrests. His ears twitched happily as he chewed, eyes flicking to a side monitor just in time to catch Mirko's foot reduce a lecture podium to rubble during her rooftop sprint.
He chuckled.
Oh yes. He'd disabled the alarms himself. Cleared the schedules. Sent the Pro Heroes out on fabricated errands with a smile and a wave. "Urgent reports," he'd said.
All so he could enjoy his cheese in peace… while watching U.A.'s most violent rabbit get frustrated by a tuxedo-wearing maniac in a banana mask.
Nezu beamed. What a treat.
Naruto was such a character.
Though considering how he was the little brother of Bee, that was to be expected.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was about ten minutes later when Naruto arrived home.
The front door creaked open to the familiar scent of warm cedar and the faint aroma of microwave ramen… delicious. Naruto stepped inside, peeling off his tuxedo jacket with a low grunt and slinging it over the nearby coat rack.
"Yo," he called lazily.
Silence greeted him. Then—
"OH NO SHE DIDN'T!"
The living room erupted with feminine gasps and scandalized cries from the oversized TV. Onscreen, a woman in high heels had just slapped another woman.
Naruto blinked.
Kurama, Shukaku, and Son Goku were squeezed together on the floor, eyes glued to the drama unfolding. Chomei sat at the top of the couch where one rested their head in, watching the show intensely. Kokou had draped herself over an entire loveseat with Matatabi curled right next to her, tails flickering with anticipation.
"Seriously?" Naruto asked, raising a brow. "You three, I get." He pointed at the female bijū. "But you guys?"
Kurama didn't even look at him. "Don't talk. Yumi's about to find out Daiki cheated."
Shukaku tossed popcorn at the screen. "She better throw hands."
Son Goku grunted. "I only came for the violence."
Rolling his eyes, Naruto walked past the group of six who were fixated on the drama show.
From the corner, he caught sight of Saiken who sat perfectly still at the coffee table in the secondary living room, reading the newspaper, a small pair of reading glasses perched on his sluggy face.
He didn't look up. "Hello Naruto."
"Hello to you too Saiken." The blonde returned the greeting casually.
Oddly enough, Naruto didn't find Isobu and Gyūki around. Probably in their room or in the backyard. One of the two.
"Yo yo yo, what's good my bro?" Bee's voice echoed from upstairs as he descended in gym shorts and a sleeveless hoodie. "You out all night, what's up with the show?"
Naruto caught the apple Bee tossed him midair. "Let's just say tomorrow's gonna be... colorful."
Bee grinned widely, already enjoying the incoming chaos.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Time-skip: The following morning.
Mirko's boots struck the stone path with sharp, deliberate steps as she swept across U.A.'s campus like a storm in motion. Her red eyes scanned every corner, gutter, and ledge, searching for the telltale signs of a prank left behind—paper talismans, tampered pipes, chalk symbols, whatever twisted nonsense that banana freak might've cooked up. So far, nothing.
She moved fast, ignoring the stares she got from students as she passed. Many of them blushing with men and women alike affected immensely by her appearance, she even caught a busty female university student with blonde hair biting her lips sultry in her direction with flushed cheeks and a dazed gleam in her eyes, though many were like that.
A wave of hushed voices followed her the moment they thought she was out of earshot.
"Holy crap, it's Mirko…"
"She looks so good in that uniform."
"How does she have that much ass—?"
"I want a butt that big."
"Fuck that, I want to worship that fat ass instead." Another replied heatedly.
Mirko ignored the comments. She didn't have time for any of it. Her fuse was already half-burned, and she still had a class to teach in less than fifteen minutes.
But she wouldn't leave without checking.
Sukuna wouldn't show up to U.A. again without a reason. At least not in his villain persona. As a student, he'd come regularly, sure. But to don the mask and for no reason? That wasn't his style. He was a showman. Arrogant, loud, and way too pleased with himself. If he broke in, there was a punchline waiting to drop.
Mirko stopped in the west courtyard, eyes narrowing at a vending machine. Her instincts buzzed, but after a minute of checking the panel and the base, she found nothing. She clicked her tongue and kept walking.
"Where the hell is it…" she muttered.
She ducked into the eastern hall next, skimming the hallway, checking ceilings and locker edges. Nothing. Just students going about their morning. A few of them flinched as she stormed past.
Her mind, meanwhile, worked overtime.
Nezu's words still lingered from when he had first invited her here. Sukuna was a student. He was sure of it but didn't know whom. It could even be a faculty member. Nezu wasn't one hundred percent certain but he did believe Sukuna was a student rather than part of the staff.
And Nezu wanted her here as she could sniff out Sukuna's real identity. But to do so in secrecy.
Mirko had been shocked when she had first heard of Nezu's suspicions, and she had tried to interrogate the mammal as to what gave him those suspicions but he was tight-lipped.
She couldn't even get physically aggressive as Nezu was immensely intelligent and knew how to secure himself from harm in all sorts of forms, be it physical, mental, reputation-wise, etc…. and basically had dirt on her from back on the days when she had acted like a violent thug.
…
When she was more of a violent thug than she was now.
As such, her situation was basically that she was now a teacher who basically had one of the most intelligent minds in the world whispering to her that in this university, Sukuna's real identity hides here, as either a student or staff, most likely student as the chance for faculty was extremely, extremely, extremely low.
It may even be her student, possibly. Somewhere among the campus population—beneath a school uniform, behind some mundane face—was the guy who had slapped her ass with zero hesitation and then vanished into the night.
She grit her teeth.
Around a thousand students were enrolled in U.A. University, and only about forty percent of them were women. That narrowed the field to roughly six hundred suspects. Six hundred male students… and one of them was him.
A prankster. A pervert. And an unreasonably skilled fighter.
Her eyes scanned a pair of male students exiting the literature building. One was tall and broad-shouldered, the other shorter and lean. She watched them for a second, but neither looked remotely suspicious.
She moved on.
Down by the sculpture garden, she paced past a few benches and stopped short near a row of hedges. Something gleamed near the base—a strip of silver paper, taped crudely to the back of a trash can. She leaned down and peeled it free. A ramen receipt.
"Tch."
False alarm.
She crushed it in her fist and kept going.
The USJ shuttle would leave soon, and she still had nothing. Her class was expecting her. And Sukuna… he was probably already laughing somewhere, watching it unfold.
She passed another group of students. One of them, a redhead with a goofy smile, tripped over himself at the sight of her and turned red. His friend whispered something that earned him an elbow. Mirko ignored it all—but her face twitched as they talked about her giant ass behind her back.
Yes… she knew she had a fucking fat ass. Now could people stop talking about it!
The memory was still fresh. Too fresh. That stupid slap. The bounce. The way he vanished like a cartoon. And worst of all, her own hesitation. The blush that wouldn't go away.
Her hand almost drifted back again to her rump.
She caught herself this time.
"Get a grip," she growled under her breath.
It was another fifteen minutes later that Mirko, immensely disappointed and annoyed, arrived outside her class.
Mirko shoved the classroom door open with more force than necessary.
The 18 students of Class 1-A jolted upright in their seats. Conversations died instantly. Everyone knew better than to test her mood—especially this early.
Most of them were already in their training uniforms, eager for what was to be their first practical USJ session. The big field trip. The day they'd finally get to simulate real-world hero scenarios in controlled chaos.
Mirko stomped in, arms folded under her chest, jaw set.
She didn't even glance at anyone in particular as she strode to the front. The heels of her boots echoed sharply against the tile, silencing even the whispers. But the twitch of her ears betrayed her mood.
She still hadn't found anything.
No sign of what Sukuna had planted. No prank, no trail, no clue. Nothing.
She took a deep breath and turned to face the class.
"Listen up," she barked, voice clipped. "Today's lesson is at the USJ. We'll be covering basic rescue drills, simulated disasters, and obstacle navigation. You're expected to treat every second seriously. Real civilians could be at stake one day. If you fuck around—"
She paused. Her eye twitched. "—you'll find out."
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the classroom.
In the back row, Naruto slouched with casual ease, his head tilted just slightly—his bright blue eyes glancing toward the ceiling like a cat watching a light fixture.
He didn't look smug. Just… entertained.
His lips moved soundlessly.
Ten.
Mirko kept speaking, gesturing toward the board. "The shuttle departs in thirty. Everyone should already have their packs ready. If not, you'll—"
Nine.
Naruto's gaze drifted from the ceiling to her wide hips.
Eight.
Her thighs shifted as she adjusted her stance.
Seven.
Thicc and meaty, he enjoyed looking at them. As did pretty much everyone in class.
Six.
He suppressed a grin, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Five.
She turned a little to the side, inadvertently giving him a better view.
Four.
Life was good.
Three.
He didn't even care about the prank anymore.
Two.
This moment was the reward.
One.
Mirko opened her mouth to continue—
Zero.
BOOM.
The ceiling above them erupted.
Not just this classroom—but every single building across the university campus.
Hundreds of simultaneous pops rang out like coordinated fireworks across the sky. One after another—BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Mirko snapped into a crouch mid-sentence, already bracing for an ambush. Her battle instincts were locked in. "What the—?!"
But it wasn't fire. It wasn't glass. It wasn't smoke.
It was underwear.
Thousands of them.
The ceiling vent above had blown open, and a massive geyser of undergarments burst forth like an erupting volcano of shame. Frilly lace, cotton briefs, silken thongs, men's boxers, push-up bras, every imaginable style, size, and color—all raining down in an unholy avalanche and burying the classes and students in undergarments.
The reaction was instant.
"AAAAAAGH!" Kaminari shrieked, flailing as an entire cluster of bras smothered his head.
Sero's chair tipped backward as dozens of panties bounced off his face. "WHAT THE HELL—?!"
Kyoka yelped, as quite a few lacy thongs landed directly on her headphone jack.
A dozen landed over and around Momo as she stayed blankly still as a pair of leopard print boxers hit her face and stayed there. "Oh." Then her face began to pale then pale some more before suddesly combusting into red. "Oh NO!!." she squeaked unladylike.
Ochako's face went red. "Wh-Wh-Why are there so many?! Are these used?!"
A dainty pair of purple silk panties fluttered down and landed squarely on Tsuyu's tongue. "Kero—BLECH—"
Iida stood up with robotic urgency, trying to restore order. "EVERYONE REMAIN—" FWUMP! A mountain of panties crashed onto him like a tidal wave, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Even Bakugo wasn't spared. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" he roared as a rainbow of satin bras looped around his arms like restraining cords. "WHO'S DEAD?! WHOEVER DID THIS IS DEAD!"
One poor student tripped trying to escape the flood, only to land face-first into a small mountain of bras.
In the back, Naruto remained seated, back straight, expression serene even as he suffered the consequences of his own prank like everyone else.
He just smiled as he caught sight of his teacher's expression.
Mirko froze where she stood.
A red thong draped over one of her rabbit ears, while two pairs of bras rested over her hair.
She reached up slowly, trembling fingers pinching it free like it was toxic.
She stared at it.
Then threw it to the ground like it burned her.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" she roared, shaking off all the undergarments off her,
Unfortunately for her… and everyone else in and out of the class. There was more than one detonation per class/room. A second wave of lingerie detonated—another hidden compartment spewing hundreds more pairs directly onto her.
Mirko vanished beneath it all.
A tidal wave of panties buried her down to the hips, with a pair of silky white bloomers draped across her face like a veil.
The same happened for everyone else. A byproduct of Naruto stealing a couple hundred underwear from department stores everyday around the entire world.
All for this.
Mirko's muffled voice roared from beneath the avalanche.
"I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL FIND AND MURDER YOU! YOU BANANA-MASKED FREAK!!" She thundered with the strength of all of her lungs as the class and the school itself was washed in a tsunami of undergarments.
End
I hope you all liked this.
It was pretty fun to write. And a mentioned, the chapter after this is where we actually pick up in intensity.
More Chapters are posted on my patreon Feel free to check it out lads, here's the link
https://www.patreon.com/c/Demon_Knight939
Anyway, take care lads.
Peace.