Menma was too shocked by what he had seen. If he were being honest, his brain probably should have short-circuited from emotional overload. And, like always, the red energy surged through his body—calming his burning mind but heating his body up instead.
He wasn't reborn into a normal world. This was a world of magic and fantasy. And it had taken him ten whole months to realize it.
Ashamed of his own IQ, he admitted it: all his carefully constructed plans were now useless. He had assumed this was a retro-style world with a unique societal system. He had planned to learn the language, sync it with his past knowledge, and use it to change the world for the better.
Sure, he had suspected he was a prisoner or a hostage—but even in his wildest dreams, he hadn't imagined this.
He should've realized it earlier. That ball of energy sealed in his belly? He thought it was a reincarnation cheat—something born with him. After learning about his parents' deaths, which he had felt emotionally before birth, he dismissed those memories as a lucid dream.
But now it was clear: those foggy memories had been real. And the red energy was no gift—it was the reason for his imprisonment.
He had been lying to himself.
What was he supposed to do now? Could he avoid becoming a ninja? No—he didn't have a choice.
So there was no point running from it anymore.
He quickly began mapping out what he needed to do—based on the novels he used to read in his past life.
First, he needed to understand this world:
Geography
Political systems
Power distribution
Logical and spiritual laws
The structure and progression of power systems
And most importantly: a roadmap to reach the peak in whatever path he chose.
There had to be a reason he was reborn. And there had to be a goal.
( Let's decide what to do… after I've gathered all the necessary information. )
Also, he had to find his brother—and figure out his own identity—while laying the foundation for becoming a Shinobi. That meant physical conditioning too.
With his plan set, he tried to calm his overheated body. The red energy wasn't harming him directly, but he had concluded that it dramatically increased his metabolism. That, in turn, caused a spike in his body temperature, which created a harmful fever. Then the red energy would rush in again to repair the damage—further increasing metabolism in a cycle of damage and healing.
In the process, his cells were growing stronger and more resilient.
He suspected his unconscious mind had accepted the red energy as a biological substitute—like a part of him. So whenever his equilibrium was disrupted, his body summoned the energy automatically to fix it.
But now, he was going to interfere with that cycle.
It would be easier said than done.
He closed his eyes and sank deep into himself, searching for his inner balance. First, he calmed his racing heart—imagining the soothing music he'd used while studying psychophysiology. His heartbeat began to slow.
Then his lungs—burning from the increased temperature. He couldn't stop breathing, as that would only destabilize the heart, so he made each inhale a little deeper and each exhale longer and slower. Slowly, he regained control.
Now it was time to reach the source of the red energy.
He moved deeper... deeper... until he reached his abdomen. Just as he was about to make contact with the source, the energy receded—like a faucet being turned off.
He felt a hint of regret that he couldn't observe it fully, but it had to be enough for now. His body had stopped burning, but he was exhausted.
No toxins remained in his body, but the fatigue of channeling energy had caught up with him.
Too tired to even open his eyes, he dozed off—uncaring of what was happening outside.
---
Meanwhile, just beside Menma's body, a boy—roughly the same age as "Brother Dog"—was extending his hand, sending dry chakra into Menma's body.
He had been pushed forward to help stabilize the seal. He had trained with a large amount of Nine Tails' chakra recently, so he assumed he could help calm it quickly.
Reality, however, slapped him hard.
His chakra had the opposite effect—it agitated the red energy even more. The room was thrown into high alert.
But then, Menma's heartbeats slowed, and his breathing stabilized. Following that, the red chakra began to retreat. Gently, carefully, the boy helped it return to the seal.
Relieved, he stepped back, allowing Lady Biwako to check on the unconscious boy.
"Thank goodness," she said after a long pause. "He's fine—just too tired."
Danzo, of course, seized the moment.
"So this is the perfect Jinchūriki?" he said with a sneer. "Just from seeing a few jutsu, he panics and nearly lets the Nine Tails out? We'd better keep him away from explosive tags. He might nuke our own camp by accident."
Sarutobi, long used to Danzo's jabs, said nothing. But Biwako wasn't having it.
"Danzo Shimura," she snapped. "I haven't even settled the last score with you. And now you want to criticize a child? Do you think I don't have a temper just because my husband tolerates your idiocy?!"
Danzo hadn't expected such an outburst. Without a word, he scanned the room with his cold eyes, then turned and walked out. A squad of Genbu ANBU followed him—save for the ones stationed to protect Menma.
Sarutobi sighed.
"Biwako, calm down. He won't do anything reckless."
"I hope not."
Sarutobi then turned to Kakashi, who had remained silent through it all.
"Dog," he said, "Don't blame yourself. It was my oversight, not considering how little Menma knows. I'll assign a teacher to help with his education. You'll continue to be his caretaker—and guide him well."
He placed a hand on Kakashi's shoulder.
"Menma will be under our care until he's two. Until then, don't be lazy."
Then, Sarutobi and the rest left.
Only Lady Biwako, Kakashi, and a sleeping Menma remained.
Kakashi remained beside Menma's bed, quietly watching the boy's sleeping face.
Lady Biwako sat near him, eyes thoughtful. "Kakashi," she said gently, "You should know… it wasn't your jutsu that startled Menma."
Kakashi looked up, puzzled. "Then… what was it, Lady Biwako?"
She sighed. "Menma is a complex child. Sometimes, he's just a baby—seeking love and attention. Other times, he behaves like a mischievous little rascal. But when he calms down… he becomes someone far older than his age. He carries the weight of life and death in his eyes."
She paused, gaze softening as she looked at the boy.
"I wish Kushina were here. She could've given this child the home he longs for."
"But… Lady Kushina passed away."
"She did. Which is why Menma will always be like a boat in a storm, searching for a lighthouse. I can't be that lighthouse—not after leaving him once. He's closed that part of his heart to me. What I give him now is just warmth borrowed from memory."
She looked at Kakashi, her voice firmer.
"But you… you're different. You're the one he trusts. You're the one who stayed. To him, you're a big brother—one who won't leave, no matter how much trouble he causes. So don't give up on him."
Kakashi didn't respond. He only listened, overwhelmed.
Lady Biwako stood to leave, but paused at the door. "Also," she added lightly, "he's lost a lot of energy today. I hear you cook fish quite well. Maybe debone one for dinner. Or have you forgotten how to cook?"
The door closed behind her, leaving silence in the room.
Kakashi stood still for a long moment, then looked down at Menma's peaceful face.
The red hair. The faint resemblance to Minato. The sharpness in his expression. The complexity in his silence.
Finally, he whispered, "…Let's have cooked fish tonight."
---
Hokage's Office – Later That Night
At the Hokage building, Shikaku Nara stood in front of the Third, finishing his reports.
Hiruzen gave some brief instructions and leaned back in his chair as Shikaku handed him a stack of documents. "These," Shikaku said, "are the latest recruits from the ANBU training program."
"Thank you, Shikaku," Sarutobi said, rubbing his eyes. "If it weren't for you, I'd be stuck here until midnight."
Shikaku gave a tired smile and bowed out, grumbling internally about his fate as a clan heir.
Sarutobi sifted through the files, mentally eliminating candidate after candidate for the role of Menma's future tutor. He narrowed it down to two—but still couldn't decide.
Then, near the bottom of the stack, one name caught his eye: Uchiha.
He read the file once. Then again. Then a third time.
His fingers began tapping the desk rhythmically.
After a long pause, he pulled out a scroll, wrote something on it, sealed it, and called an ANBU guard.
"Deliver this to Genbu headquarters," he said. "It's for Danzo. Wait for his reply—and return the file to me."
The ANBU nodded and vanished.
By the time Sarutobi finished reviewing the remaining paperwork, the shinobi returned—with a reply from Danzo.
Sarutobi opened it, read it silently, and nodded to himself.
He sealed the decision by stamping the Uchiha's file, then sent out orders for reassignment.
Finally, he burned Danzo's reply with a burst of fire-natured chakra, turning it to ash.
A plan had taken root. The future had begun to shift.
---