The dawn light crept over Konoha, painting the village in soft pinks and golds, but Haruka's mind was a storm. Last night on the rooftop with Sora—her futa form, her relentless thrusts, the raw connection—had been electric, but Mikoto Uchiha's shadowy presence had left him rattled. The Quincy System's warning about his power's ripple effect was no joke. Sora could control her transformation now, but Mikoto's change, and who knew how many others, was his fault. And the system's new quest—**Contain the Ripple**—hung over him like a blade.
He needed to clear his head. The public bathhouse was usually quiet this early, a good spot to think. Sora was still asleep when he slipped out, her silver hair fanned across the pillow, her face peaceful. He didn't wake her. She didn't need to know about the system or the mess his power was causing—not yet.
The bathhouse was a sprawling wooden structure, steam curling from its open-air pools as Haruka stepped inside. The men's section was empty, the only sound the gentle lap of water and the faint hum of cicadas outside. He stripped down, wrapping a towel around his waist, and sank into the hottest pool, the heat easing the tension in his muscles. His silver hair clung to his forehead as he leaned back, the system's screen flickering into view:
**Quest Progress: Contain the Ripple. 1/10 affected individuals detected (Mikoto Uchiha). Objective: Stabilize chakra feedback in affected individuals via intimate contact (recipient role). Reward: System Stabilization Module. Penalty: Village-wide exposure.**
**System Note: Affected individuals may exhibit heightened attraction to user due to chakra resonance.**
Haruka's jaw tightened. *Heightened attraction?* That explained Mikoto's stare last night, but it didn't make this any easier. His power was turning Konoha's women into futas, and apparently, he was the key to fixing them—one raw encounter at a time. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or curse.
A rustle broke his thoughts. He glanced up, and his heart skipped. Mikoto Uchiha stood at the edge of the pool, her dark hair loose, her eyes sharp and unreadable. She wore a towel, but it did little to hide the bulge beneath—a cock, just like Sora's, a product of his runaway chakra. She didn't look surprised to see him. If anything, her gaze was predatory, like she'd tracked him here.
"Haruka," she said, her voice low, smooth, with a dangerous edge. "Didn't expect to find you here."
He forced a casual grin, though his pulse raced. "Just needed a soak. You?"
She didn't answer, stepping closer, her towel dropping to the floor. Her body was lithe, all lean muscle and grace, but her cock—thick, about eight inches, with a slight upward curve—drew his eye. It was hard, pulsing faintly, and Haruka's throat went dry. The system's note about attraction wasn't kidding. Mikoto's presence was magnetic, pulling at something deep in his chakra.
"You saw me last night," she said, easing into the pool without breaking eye contact. "Watching you and Sora. I should've left, but I couldn't." She moved closer, the water rippling around her. "Something's… different about me now. And I think you know why."
Haruka's mind raced. She didn't know about the system, but she'd connected the dots to him. No one in Konoha questioned his power directly—Minato, Inoichi, none of them cared—but Mikoto was sharp. He had to play this carefully. "Maybe," he said, keeping his tone light. "You feeling okay?"
She smirked, closing the distance until she was inches away, her cock brushing his thigh under the water. "Better than okay. But I want answers, Haruka. And I want *you*."
Before he could respond, she grabbed his wrist, pulling him against her. Her lips crashed into his, fierce and demanding, her tongue claiming his mouth. Haruka's body reacted despite himself, the chakra resonance sparking heat in his veins. This was the system's doing—his power had marked him as every futa's desire, his body their key to stability. And Mikoto wasn't holding back.
She broke the kiss, her breath hot against his ear. "Turn around," she ordered, her voice a low growl. "Now."
Haruka hesitated, then complied, bracing his hands against the pool's edge. The water lapped at his waist as Mikoto pressed behind him, her cock nudging his entrance, raw and unyielding. She didn't bother with oil—none was handy in the bathhouse—but the water's warmth and her own precum slicked the way. She pushed in, slow at first, the stretch intense, her thickness filling him inch by inch. Haruka groaned, his fingers digging into the stone, the mix of pain and pleasure dizzying.
"Fuck," Mikoto hissed, her hands gripping his hips. "You're tight." She thrust deeper, her cock pulsing inside him, each movement deliberate, claiming. Her rhythm built fast, raw and nonstop, the water splashing around them as she drove into him. Her thrusts were relentless, angling to hit that spot that made Haruka's vision blur, his moans echoing in the empty bathhouse.
Mikoto's hands roamed, one sliding up his chest, the other holding his hip like a vice. "You're mine," she growled, her voice thick with need. "Every futa in this village wants a piece of you, Haruka. You feel it, don't you?"
He did. The system's resonance was undeniable, his body a magnet for every woman his power had changed. Mikoto's cock pounded into him, each thrust a reminder of his role—recipient, stabilizer, property. Her movements grew erratic, her breaths ragged, and Haruka felt his own climax building, sparked by the raw intensity of her claim.
She leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear. "Come for me," she commanded, and that was enough. Haruka's release hit hard, his body shuddering as he spilled into the water, his groan muffled by the steam. Mikoto followed, her cock throbbing as she came, her thrusts slowing but deep, filling him with a warmth that sealed the chakra balance.
They stayed there, panting, Mikoto's arms around him as the system pinged: **Chakra balance restored: Mikoto Uchiha. Quest Progress: 2/10 affected individuals stabilized. Stability: 90%.** Haruka glanced back, confirming Mikoto's cock was gone, her body restored—though the hunger in her eyes hadn't faded.
She pulled out, stepping back with a smirk. "You're trouble, Haruka. But I like it." She grabbed her towel, slipping away as silently as she'd come, leaving him alone in the pool.
Haruka sank against the edge, his body spent, his mind reeling. The system's quest was clear: more women were changing, one by one, and they'd all come for him. His ass, it seemed, was every futa's property now, a price for his power's chaos. He thought of Sora, of their love, and steeled himself. He'd fix this—for her, for Konoha, for himself. But the bathhouse's steam felt heavier now, a warning of the storm still to come.