Mastering the Elements - Chapter - 58

The moment the gates of the Pottaru Estate opened and the Mizukage’s stretcher passed beneath its ancient warded arch, a subtle shift occurred in the air—an invisible sigh of magic responding to the presence of foreign chakra.

Tsunade Senju, swollen with pregnancy and curled up on a chaise lounge under the warm afternoon sun, stirred slightly but did not rise. She trusted him—Harry Pottaru, her husband in all but name, the master of this estate, and its protector.

And Harry wasted no time.

He was already moving.

With a single wave of his hand, the stretcher lifted into the air and glided beside him. The Kirigakure guards, including the ever-suspicious Ao, marched behind it, not daring to leave the Mizukage’s side.

Ao moved to follow the stretcher through the carved wooden doorway of the Healing Hall, but Harry suddenly turned and blocked the way.

“That’s far enough,” Harry said.

Ao frowned. “She’s the Mizukage. You expect me to just wait outside?”

“I expect you to trust that if you brought her here to be healed,” Harry replied calmly, “then you trust the healer. Or you don’t—and you take her somewhere else.”

“I'm her guard. Her life is my responsibility.”

Harry’s gaze sharpened. “And her recovery is mine. If I’m to work, I need silence. Focus. And no chakra flares from paranoid swordsmen ready to jump at a shadow. This is not a battlefield. This is her last chance to wake up.”

The air grew tense.

Ao’s jaw clenched. “I’m coming in.”

Harry’s voice remained calm, but it dropped low with power.

“No. You are not.”

The Konoha healer, who had accompanied them from the village hospital, stepped forward and put a hand on Ao’s shoulder.

“He’s not lying. We’ve seen miracles in this place. But he works alone.”

The other Kirigakure guards hesitated, uncertain.

Ao looked around—and realized that even in their silence, they agreed. Mei needed help. And this man was her best chance.

“Fine,” Ao growled. “But if anything happens—”

Harry didn’t wait to hear the threat. He turned and walked inside with the stretcher floating beside him.


Soft golden light illuminated the high domed ceiling. Carved runes pulsed faintly along the stone walls, and the air carried a gentle scent of wild herbs and something older—like warmth, or home.

Harry set Mei Terumi down on a floating cushion in the center of a circle etched with runes, lit by silver candles.

He took one long look at her.

She looked peaceful. But Harry knew better.

He reached down, gently placed his fingers over her closed eyelids, and whispered a spell.

“Legilimens.”


It was chaos.

Flashes of blood. Sorrow. A girl’s scream. A village drenched in mist and betrayal.

Harry found himself in the midst of a mental storm—twisted, broken memories looping over and over again. They were sharper than Genjutsu illusions—because these were real. They were hers.

“Tsukuyomi,” Harry muttered under his breath. “Of course.”

Only one person in Konoha could’ve done this.

Itachi.

Harry frowned, but said nothing more. He understood. He knew Itachi is going to retaliate and he had his reasons, and Harry had no intention of dragging Itachi into political storms for his vengeance.

He moved quickly, walking through the storm of memory—ducking as a spectral version of young Mei lashed out with lava-style jutsu, saw her kill her best friend with trembling hands during a brutal Genin trial, and then drop to her knees in blood as her little sister’s corpse faded into mist.

Harry’s heart clenched. She’d been through more than he knew.

She hadn’t broken because of pain. She’d broken because those wounds never healed.

He kept walking, deeper and deeper into the void—past swirling regret and guilt, until he reached a silent corner of her mind, hidden away under a veil of darkness.

And there she was.

A pale reflection of Mei Terumi, crouched in the shadows, arms around her knees, shivering. Her eyes were open but blank.

“Mei,” Harry said softly.

She didn’t answer.

He took a slow step forward. “The pain’s over. I’ve quieted the storm. The memories—they’ll never hit you again with that same force.”

Still, she remained motionless.

“I know what happened. Someone showed you your worst fears. Over and over. That’s what the justu does. It traps you in time, forces you to relive everything that ever hurt.”

Her fingers tightened around her legs.

Harry knelt down beside her. “You’ve fought wars. You led a rebellion. You became Mizukage. You are not weak.”

Mei slowly turned her head toward him. Her eyes trembled. “I… killed them. I killed my friend. I let my sister die. I… failed them.”

Harry didn’t speak right away.

Instead, he reached into his cloak—and produced a small, square chocolate bar wrapped in silver paper. He broke off a piece and held it in his palm.

“You’re alive,” he said. “That means you can still atone. You can still lead. And most importantly… you can still heal.”

He held out the chocolate.

She stared at it. Confused. Then—slowly—she took it.

“I’ve had a rough past too,” Harry said quietly. “But I’ve learned this much—blaming yourself for the dead doesn’t help the living. Come back to the world. Your people need you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek.

And then… she nodded.


Mei’s eyelids fluttered.

Harry’s hand rested against her forehead, a faint glow of magic retreating from his fingertips. Her chakra signature flared—weak, but steady.

Then her lips moved.

“...Water,” she whispered hoarsely.

Harry smiled gently. “In a moment.”

He reached into a small drawer and pulled out the same silver-wrapped chocolate bar. Breaking a piece, he handed it to her.

“Eat this. It’ll help your mind stabilize.”

She blinked. “I don’t eat food from people I don't know…”

“I’m a healer,” Harry said, standing back. “You just met me in your deepest nightmare.”

Mei looked at the chocolate.

She took a bite.

Warmth spread across her body almost immediately. Her heart calmed. Her pain dulled. Her thoughts aligned.

She looked up at the man standing before her, sunlight catching the edge of his dark green robes and the emerald shine in his eyes.

“…Who are you?”

“Just someone who helps those the world forgets,” Harry said simply. “Rest now. You’re safe.”



The crowd was restless with excitement as the next match was announced. The stands of the Chūnin Exam stadium echoed with the chatter of nobles, shinobi, merchants, and curious civilians. After the exhilarating battle between Ren and Riko, expectations were sky-high.

The proctor, a seasoned Tokubetsu Jōnin named Hoshino, stepped into the arena with his usual flair. He raised a hand for silence as the two next competitors stepped into the ring.

"On the left side," he announced, "we have Sayaka Aburame of Konohagakure. And on the right side, Haku Yuki of Kirigakure."

A murmur spread through the crowd. Sayaka was tall, slender, and moved with the silent grace typical of the Aburame clan. Dressed in a high-collared jacket and dark shades, she was the very image of a focused strategist. But her opponent, Haku, was visibly younger—small-framed, almost delicate in appearance, and wearing the standard dark blues of Kirigakure. He stood calmly with a blank expression, his long black hair tied back loosely.

From the stands, Itachi Pottaru narrowed his eyes.

“He’s grown stronger,” Itachi murmured under his breath.

“Haku’s the kid you trained in Kiri, right?” Mikoto whispered beside him, she came to watch the chunin exam.

Itachi nodded. “I thought he had promise. But this… this is something else. He must’ve trained under the other survivors from the Yuki clan.”

Below, Hoshino raised his arm.

“Begin!”

The signal was sharp.

Sayaka immediately dashed forward, hands already forming seals. She moved like a blur, low and close, aiming for a direct hit. Her objective was clear: get close, infect with kikaichū. Her Taijutsu was honed not just for damage, but for infiltration—allowing her insects to burrow into the opponent’s chakra system unseen.

But Haku was already in motion. He slid backward, drawing water from the air with effortless grace. In a matter of seconds, the water crystallized into ice needles, floating around him like a silent choir of death.

He flicked his hand.

The needles zipped toward Sayaka.

She spun, flipped, and rolled—dodging most, swatting a few with kunai—but was forced to stop her charge. She clicked her tongue in irritation, landing on one knee.

“You don’t want a close fight?” she muttered.

“I know about the Aburame,” Haku said softly. “I won’t let you touch me.”

Sayaka smirked and formed a new seal. The air around her shimmered with a low buzz as a swarm of kikaichū insects emerged, swirling around her like a cloak. She gave a sharp whistle—and the bugs shot forward like a missile, aiming for Haku.

But he was ready.

“Ice Release: Diamond Fortress.”

A shimmering dome of translucent diamond-like ice erupted around him, crystalline and perfect. The insects bounced off the smooth surface uselessly.

The crowd gasped.

“An advanced ice structure,” said Kazekage Rasa, seated beside the Hokage. “It’s dense enough to block chakra-infused projectiles.”

The Third Hokage nodded slowly. “For one so young… the precision of his control is remarkable.”

Inside the dome, Haku calmly bent the moisture in the ground and the air to his will.

“Ice Release: Winter Blooming Forest.”

The earth cracked.

From it burst dozens of ice spikes, sharp and fast-growing, forming a forest of jagged spears that chased Sayaka as she tried to flee the advancing danger. She leapt onto one, then another, barely staying ahead of the deadly formation.

“This guy’s crazy good,” Naruto whispered from the stands. His eyes were wide and glittering with awe.

Midori and Hinata, seated on either side of him, had their arms crossed and were pouting in silence.

Sayaka landed hard, panting. “Fine,” she said. “Long-range, then.”

She launched another swarm of bugs, directing them to swirl around the ice dome, searching for cracks. But just as she prepared another jutsu—

The dome shattered from within.

With explosive force, Haku burst out, propelled by chakra-infused ice jets at his feet. He was flying directly toward Sayaka.

“Close range again? Fool,” Sayaka muttered and readied a blocking stance.

But it wasn’t just a punch.

Haku’s fist was encased in spiraling ice chakra, shaped into a massive, gloved construct of hardened frost, glowing blue with internal chakra veins.

“Ice Fist: Frozen Impact!”

Sayaka moved to parry—

But it was too late.

The fist connected squarely with her jaw, sending her spinning through the air like a ragdoll. She hit the arena ground and didn’t get back up.

The crowd was stunned into silence.

Then—

Applause. Thunderous applause.

Even Mikoto clapped. “Not bad for a ten-year-old.”

Itachi remained still, though his eyes followed Haku as the boy bowed politely to the proctor and the audience.

The proctor checked Sayaka. “Unconscious. Winner—Haku Yuki of Kirigakure!”

The stands erupted again.

Naruto was on his feet. “THAT WAS AWESOME!”

Midori snorted. “You only say that because you’re a fan of his hair.”

Hinata pouted. “Or because he’s a ‘pretty girl.’”

“He’s a dude,” Naruto muttered, and both girls went silent again.

Back in the Kage balcony, the Kazekage spoke again.

“I thought most Hidden Villages only allowed Genin graduation at age twelve.”

Hiruzen nodded. “Kiri is known for doing things differently. Harshly. But it seems this one survived.”

The Kazekage stroked his chin. “That was not just survival. That boy… is a prodigy.”