The next three months saw Makima tighten her psychological grip, focusing on the insidious erosion of Kushina's self-esteem. Kushina was now fully reliant on Makima, not just for emotional support, but for daily functionality. If Makima wasn't there, Kushina's day was riddled with small disasters: spilled ink, lost scrolls, misplaced assignments, or sudden, inexplicable headaches during crucial exams.
Makima ensured that these incidents only occurred when Kushina was away from her. When Kushina returned, Makima would treat her with overwhelming affection and pity.
"You look absolutely exhausted, my poor sister," Makima would coo, handing Kushina a calming tea Makima had prepared. "You simply worry too much. This immense Uzumaki chakra is a heavy burden, making you prone to distraction and clumsiness. If you could only learn to be as still and orderly as me, you wouldn't have these accidents."
Kushina internalized the critique: her fiery spirit was the problem, and Makima's cold control was the solution. Her fierce ambition to become Hokage began to feel less like a calling and more like a cruel joke, especially after she botched a simple written assignment for the fifth time in a row, thanks to a specific Dictation that made her hand shake uncontrollably at the moment she began writing.
She confided in Makima one evening. "Makima-chan, I don't think I can be Hokage. I can't even hold a pen still! Maybe I should just be a librarian, like your clerk Kuro, and focus on simple order."
Makima smiled sadly, her eyes full of calculated pride. "Do not say that, Kushina-san. Your will is too great to be wasted. You simply need constant guidance. I will guide you. Together, we can manage your chaos until you are as perfect as me."
Minato, however, refused to be dismissed. Makima had tried subtle commands to make the class find Minato annoying, but his own strong, non-judgmental will seemed to filter out the psychic interference.
He maintained his quiet habit: whenever Kushina had a public "accident"—a burst of self-sabotage orchestrated by Makima—Minato would pause his own activities, offer a precise, technical observation, and then retreat. He never judged her rage or her tears; he only analyzed the physics of the fall or the flaw in the execution.
It was infuriatingly impersonal, yet it was the only form of interaction Kushina received that didn't involve pity or a demand for her obedience.
One day, the class was practicing the Kawarimi no Jutsu (Substitution Jutsu) on a wooden platform over a shallow but freezing river. Makima initiated a strong Dictation aimed at Kushina's concentration: "Kushina Uzumaki's mind must be completely blank at the critical moment of substitution, resulting in her falling directly into the cold river."
Kushina jumped, attempted the seal, and failed. Her mind went completely blank, and she plunged straight toward the icy water.
Just as she was about to hit the surface, a bright flash of yellow appeared.
Minato Namikaze, having executed a perfect, instantaneous substitution, had materialized on the platform. More importantly, he had managed to grab Kushina's flailing wrist mid-fall.
With a powerful, easy tug, he pulled her back onto the platform before she could touch the water, placing her gently on her feet.
Kushina was shaking, not from cold, but from adrenaline and the terror of the plunge. She looked up at Minato, expecting his usual shy, awkward reaction.
But Minato simply looked at her, his bright blue eyes steady. "You hesitated," he said, his voice low and serious. "The seal was correct, but you didn't commit the chakra at the final moment. That's a hesitation of will, not an issue of strength. You can't hesitate, Kushina-san."
Then, he did something unexpected. He smiled—a genuine, warm, and slightly confident smile. "You would have made a huge splash, though."
Kushina stared at him. She was furious, humiliated, and incredibly relieved she hadn't fallen. For the first time, she saw him not as a sissy, but as an unbelievably competent ninja who had risked his own successful practice to save her.
"I… thanks, Minato," she mumbled, unable to muster a snappy comeback.
From that moment, Minato stopped leaving notes and started speaking directly to her. Kushina initially hated it, but soon, his technical, non-emotional conversations about Jutsu and theory became a strange, pleasant distraction from Makima's suffocating concern.
Minato never once asked why she was so clumsy. He just showed her how to use her massive chakra more efficiently, suggesting ways to anchor her feet, stabilize her focus, or better time her seals. He treated her like a competent peer with a correctable technical flaw, not a delicate disaster that needed saving.
Makima noticed the shift immediately. Kushina started lingering after class, occasionally walking with Minato, discussing the best type of miso ramen in the village or the most efficient route to the training grounds. It was simple, non-intellectual chatter that showed Minato was seeing her as a person, not a problem.
Makima kept her smile perfect. She intensified the 'accidents'—those that didn't involve physical environment changes—ensuring Kushina still depended on Makima for comfort and psychological repair. But Makima could feel the subtle, infuriating resistance: Minato was creating an uncommanded anchor of stability in Kushina's life—a pillar of genuine, unmanaged order that Makima had not authorized.
Makima knew she couldn't simply command Minato's death like she did with the clerk Kenji. Minato Namikaze was too public, too promising, and too essential to Konoha's future. He would have to be controlled, not destroyed. Makima realized her next move would have to be tactical, integrating Minato into her sphere of influence before his genuine kindness completely unraveled her precious, perfect subordinate.
Crucially, Makima had already made one major tactical retreat: she had ceased orchestrating Kushina's public 'accidents' involving physical environment changes.
Minato's consistent, quiet observations about 'uneven footing' or 'chakra anchor' were too close to the truth. While he never once suggested foul play, his detailed analysis of the technical flaw was dangerously close to pinpointing the moment of the Dictation. Makima would not risk exposing her true power for the minor psychological toll it took on Kushina.
The control was now delegated: Minato's presence managed Kushina's technical flaws, and Makima's emotional support managed her inner self-worth. It was a temporary, unsatisfactory co-management of the vessel, and Makima intended to end it soon.