Kushina wiped the dust from her hands as she navigated through the basement's maze of forgotten belongings. Cardboard boxes towered in precarious stacks, old mission gear hung from rusty hooks, and somewhere in the corner. She was pretty sure there was a training dummy that had seen better days about three years ago.
"Where did we even get all this junk?" she muttered, stepping over a box labeled 'Minato's Old Headbands - DO NOT THROW AWAY (They Have Sentimental Value)' in her husband's neat, polite handwriting.
She was looking for their old photo albums when her foot kicked something small and rectangular across the floor. Bending down, she picked up what appeared to be a security tape, the kind their old apartment building used for the entrance cameras.
"Huh." She turned it over in her hands, squinting at the faded label. "Why do we still have this?"
Curiosity getting the better of her—a trait that had gotten her into trouble more times than she cared to count—Kushina dusted off their old tape player and slotted the cassette in. The screen flickered to life, showing a grainy black-and-white view of their former apartment building's entrance.
At first, nothing happened. Just an empty hallway with the occasional resident walking by. Kushina was about to fast-forward when a figure appeared on screen.
A man in a dark mask was crouched by their apartment door, clearly trying to pick the lock.
"What the hell?" Kushina leaned closer to the screen, her red hair falling over her shoulder. "Is this guy seriously trying to rob us?"
She watched in disbelief as the masked figure fumbled with what looked like lockpicks. This civilian, which she could tell by his clumsy movements and complete lack of any stealth whatsoever, was attempting to break into the home of the Yellow Flash and the Red Hot-Blooded Habanero.
"This is like watching someone try to steal from the Hokage's office with a butter knife," she muttered, shaking her head. "What kind of idiot—wait." Her eyes caught the date stamp in the corner. "Oh, that's right. I was sent that week for the sealing consultation."
The memory came back to her: a week-long mission helping the security team reinforce the land of fire's seals. She'd left Minato home alone, much to his dramatic protests about missing her cooking and having no one to compliment his hair.
On screen, the thief finally managed to get the door open and slipped inside. Kushina found herself holding her breath. She didn't remember Minato mentioning any break-in attempt. Knowing her husband, he'd probably just politely asked the intruder to leave and offered him tea.
For several long moments, nothing happened. The hallway remained empty.
Then suddenly, the apartment door EXPLODED open like it had been hit by a chakra-enhanced battering ram.
Two figures came tearing out at superhuman speed.
The first was the thief, running for his life with a level of terror that suggested he'd just encountered his worst nightmare.
The second figure that burst into view made Kushina's brain completely short-circuit.
It was Minato.
Soaking wet.
Wearing nothing but a pair of bright orange boxers with little ramen bowls on them (a gag gift from her that she never thought he'd actually wear).
His perfect golden hair was plastered to his head like a wet mop, water flying everywhere as he ran, and his face...
His face was twisted into an expression of pure, unbridled rage that she had never seen before. Not during the Kyuubi attack. Not during S-rank missions. Not even when someone had once suggested his hair looked "a little flat."
He was also red, most of his face flushed, but that wasn't the part that made her jaw hit the floor.
"WHAT'S UP, MOTHER FUCKER!"
Kushina's soul left her body.
Did... did her husband just...?
"WHAT'S UP! WHAT'S UP!"
The man who said 'golly' when he stubbed his toe. The man who apologized to furniture when he bumped into it. The man who once said 'Oh my' when facing down a literal demon was...
"YOU'RE GETTING IT! YOU'RE GETTING IT! I'M GETTING CLOSER!"
For exactly three seconds, Kushina sat in stunned, existential shock.
Then she EXPLODED into laughter.
Not polite laughter. Not giggling. Full-blown, earth-shaking, absolutely hysterical laughter that came from somewhere deep in her soul. She laughed so hard she fell backwards off her chair and onto the basement floor, clutching her stomach as tears streamed down her face.
Minato Namikaze—the polite, soft-spoken, eternally courteous Fourth Hokage candidate—had just screamed the f-word.
Multiple times.
While chasing a criminal in his underwear.
"BAHAHAHAHAHA!" The sound that came out of her was somewhere between a hyena and a dying seal. She was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe, so hard her abs were cramping, so hard she was making sounds that shouldn't be physically possible.
She scrambled back up to the screen just in time to see both figures disappear around the corner, but she could still hear Minato's voice echoing through the building, getting progressively more unhinged:
"I'M GONNA GET YOU! I'M GONNA—" crash "—WHOOPS, SORRY MRS. TANAKA, I'LL PAY FOR THAT PLANT—YOU'RE STILL GETTING IT, ASSHOLE!"
This sent Kushina into FRESH waves of hysteria. He was STILL being polite while in berserker mode! She was crying from laughter now, gasping for air between cackles that probably violated several noise ordinances.
This was the same man who once spent twenty minutes apologizing to a merchant for accidentally overpaying him. The same man who bowed to stray cats. The same man who had never, in all their years together, said anything stronger than 'darn it' even when a kunai went through his leg.
She rewound the tape, wheezing with anticipation.
"WHAT'S UP, MOTHER FUCKER!"
She collapsed again, howling with laughter that echoed through the entire basement. Her sides felt like they were splitting. She was laughing so hard she was practically convulsing.
She rewound it again, barely able to see through her tears.
"WHAT'S UP, MOTHER FUCKER!"
"STOP!" she gasped to herself, but she couldn't stop laughing. Every replay was funnier than the last. The contrast was so absurd her brain couldn't process it.
"He said—" wheeze "—he actually—" cackle, she couldn't even finish sentences anymore. Every time she tried to speak, fresh peals of laughter cut her off.
She thought back to every dangerous mission they'd been on together. The time they were surrounded by fifty enemy nin and certain death was imminent, and Minato had said, "Well, this is quite the pickle."
The time a bijuu nearly stepped on them and he'd gone, "Oh dear, that's not ideal." The time she'd accidentally set their kitchen on fire and he'd just sighed and said, "These things happen, sweetie."
This sent her into another fit of giggles so intense she started hiccupping between laughs.
Apparently, threaten his home while he's in the shower, and suddenly her sweet, innocent husband turned into some kind of profanity-spewing berserker in novelty underwear.
She paused the tape at the perfect moment: Minato mid-sprint, hair flying, mouth open mid-curse, one fist raised to the heavens like he was declaring war on the entire concept of crime itself.
"I'M FRAMING THIS!" she shrieked through her laughter, pounding the floor with her fist.
The mental image of showing this to the Third Hokage made her laugh so hard she started snorting. "Yes, Lord Hokage, this is my husband, your successor candidate, chasing a burglar while screaming obscenities in his ramen-themed undergarments!"
She was making sounds that weren't even human anymore—just pure, uncontrollable joy at discovering the most ridiculous thing that had ever happened in the history of shinobi marriages.
"What's up, mother fucker," she tried to repeat in her best Minato impression, but she was laughing too hard to get the words out properly. It came out as "What's—AHAHAHAHA—mother—BAHAHAHA—fucker!" which only made her laugh harder because hearing herself try to curse in Minato's polite tone was somehow even funnier.
She was rolling on the basement floor now, literally rolling, clutching her sides as wave after wave of hysteria crashed over her. Every time she thought she was getting control, she'd remember the image of her sweet husband in his ramen boxers screaming profanity and she'd lose it all over again.
She made multiple mental notes: Ask him if he caught the thief. Ask him if he remembers this happening. Ask him where the hell he learned to curse like that. Ask him if he realized he was wearing the ramen boxers she bought as a joke.
But most importantly, she was never, ever letting him live this down.
"My sweet, innocent, absolutely feral husband," she wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. "Who are you and what did you do with the man who says 'please' and 'thank you' to vending machines?"
She hit replay one more time, just to make sure this wasn't some kind of fever dream.
"WHAT'S UP, MOTHER FUCKER!"
The laughter that erupted from her this time was so intense she couldn't make any sound at all—just silent, shaking convulsions as tears streamed down her face. She was having a full-body laughing fit that probably registered on seismic equipment.
When she finally managed to catch her breath, she was lying spread-eagle on the basement floor, staring at the ceiling with a massive grin plastered across her face.
Oh today was going to be a good day!
______________________________________________________________
Minato trudged through the front door, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. It had been one of those days—back-to-back meetings with the Hokage, training sessions with his team, and a particularly tedious council session about budget allocations for new kunai. All he wanted was to collapse next to his wife and maybe share a quiet dinner.
"I'm home," he called softly, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door.
"Welcome back, honey!" Kushina's voice drifted from the kitchen, unusually cheerful even by her standards. "Perfect timing—dinner's almost ready!"
Minato smiled, some of the day's stress already melting away. This was what he lived for—coming home to Kushina's warmth and her amazing cooking. He made his way to the kitchen, where she was bustling around with her usual energy, red hair swishing as she moved between pots and pans.
"Smells incredible," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and pressing a gentle kiss to her neck. "What's the occasion?"
"Can't a wife just make her husband's favorite meal?" she replied, leaning back into his embrace. There was something in her tone—a hint of mischief that he couldn't quite place, but he was too tired to analyze it.
Dinner was perfect, as always. Kushina had made his favorite—miso ramen with extra naruto (a fact she never failed to tease him about)—and they talked about their days. Well, mostly he talked about his day. Kushina seemed unusually interested in hearing every mundane detail, asking follow-up questions and hanging on his every word with an intensity that was both flattering and slightly puzzling.
"You seem particularly attentive tonight," he observed with a fond smile as they finished eating.
"I just missed you," she said, though there was definitely something sparkling in her eyes that suggested she was up to something. "Come on, let's relax on the couch. You look exhausted."
They settled into their usual spots on the living room sofa, Kushina curled up against his side as he finally allowed himself to truly unwind. She was being unusually affectionate, running her fingers through his hair and pressing little kisses to his shoulder. Not that he was complaining—it was just... different from her usual straightforward affection.
"This is nice," he murmured, his eyes drifting closed as the stress of the day continued to ebb away. "I love evenings like this. Just us, quiet, peaceful..."
His eyes opened lazily, scanning the familiar living room—and then froze completely.
There, mounted on the wall like some kind of trophy, was a security tape.
Not just any security tape. THE security tape.
The one from their old apartment building. The one he had very specifically thought was lost forever since he could not find it anywhere, no matter how hard it looked and this was before he improved lord second's Hiraishin formula.
The tape, the one that contained footage of what was quite possibly the most mortifying moment of his entire life.
All the blood drained from his face.
His brain didn't process how it got there. He didn't wonder why Kushina had put it up, she wasn't even in his mind right now, not anymore. He didn't question the logistics or timing.
There was only one thought screaming through his mind with the intensity of a fire alarm:
MUST. HIDE. THE.TAPE!
Pure, animalistic panic took over. Without a word of explanation, without even thinking, he prepared himself to launch from the couch with the desperate speed of a man whose deepest, darkest secret was literally mounted on display for the world to see.
Nothing else mattered. Not why it was there, not how Kushina would react—just the primal need to hide the evidence of his most mortifying moment. Chakra flared around him as he prepared to teleport directly to the wall, snatch the cursed thing, and make it disappear forever. At least that was the plan.
Golden chains erupted from seemingly nowhere, wrapping around his wrists, ankles, and torso faster than he could blink. The chakra he'd been gathering dissipated immediately as the adamantine sealing chains did their work, binding him completely to the couch and cutting off his access to his chakra network.
"Going somewhere, dear?" Kushina asked sweetly, finally lifting her head to look at him.
Minato stared at her in alarmed confusion, tugging experimentally at the chains. They didn't budge even slightly. "Kushina, what—why are you?! I don't understand what's happening right now."
She shifted position, turning to face him fully with a smile that could only be described as predatory. The look in her eyes was one he'd seen before, but usually directed at enemies on the battlefield, not at him in their living room.
"Oh, I think you understand perfectly," she said, her voice dropping to that dangerous tone she used right before completely demolishing someone in combat.
"I really don't," he insisted, though his eyes kept darting nervously to the tape on the wall. "If this is about me forgetting to take out the trash yesterday, I can explain—"
"It's not about the trash, Minato."
"The dishes? Because I was going to—"
"Not the dishes."
"Did I forget an anniversary? Birthday? Important date?" His voice was getting higher with each guess, panic clear in his expression.
Kushina just watched him squirm for a moment, clearly savoring his confusion and growing dread. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned in close to his ear.
Her voice, when she spoke, was perfectly calm and conversational:
"Mother fucker, what's up?"
Author Note:
This is based on an actual event that happened, Minato's chase is inspired from a video, a hilarious one actually.
[Video Link]
You're Welcome XD