Freedom.
It was a word Kurama had not heard in decades.
When Menma spoke it, the Nine-Tails froze for just a moment. Then, as if shaking off a forgotten memory, his massive face twisted into a sneer that seemed almost human.
"Freedom? Hah! Brat, your words are even more ridiculous than before. Do you really—"
"How do you know it's impossible if you never try?" Menma interrupted with calm confidence. "For you, it wouldn't even be difficult. All it would take is for you to stop suppressing me with your chakra, and—when necessary—lend me some of it. If I fail, you lose nothing. Isn't that right, Kurama?"
Before the fox could finish his scoff, Menma clapped his hands lightly, shrugging as though it were the simplest thing in the world.
Kurama's expression froze. For a heartbeat, silence filled the air.
"…Why should I—"
"You don't need to believe me," Menma cut in again, his small voice steady. "Just treat it as something to pass the time. If I succeed, I can give you something greater than this cage. I can help you take revenge on those who used you, bound you, and turned you into a tool. Isn't that what you want? And on that point…" Menma's eyes hardened. "…you don't need to question my resolve. Because those people are my enemies too."
The words struck deeper than Kurama had expected. He fell silent again, his enormous tails swaying slowly behind the bars.
The fox had to admit—it was true. He risked nothing. He was already sealed in this boy. At worst, he wasted a fraction of chakra. At best…
"…Hmph. Heh-heh… You are truly amusing, brat," Kurama rumbled, his deep laugh echoing like distant thunder. At last he lowered his head, scarlet eyes boring into Menma's. "Fine. Show me how far you can go. I'll play along—for now."
Menma's eyes lit up. He had been confident, perhaps eighty or ninety percent sure he could persuade Kurama, but he still feared the fox might be too stubborn. Now, hearing those words, relief and triumph swelled within him.
"Then it's settled, Kurama," Menma said brightly. He clenched his tiny fist and held it forward.
Kurama blinked in surprise. For a long pause, nothing moved. Then, almost against his own will, the giant fox slowly lifted one massive paw and touched it gently against the boy's hand.
The moment their "fists" met, Kurama felt something strange stir within him. He realized what he had done—and yet, for reasons he couldn't understand, there was no disgust. Only a peculiar warmth, something he had not felt in centuries.
Menma himself hadn't expected Kurama to respond. His grin grew wider, his small face glowing with satisfaction.
"Then let's stop here for today… Kurama," he said softly.
As Menma's figure slowly dissolved from the spiritual world, the fox suddenly froze.
That name.
The Tailed Beasts all had names, given long ago by the Sage of Six Paths. But humans had never cared to learn them. To be called by name by a human—by a child, no less—was unthinkable.
Kurama's scarlet eyes widened in shock.
"Wait—" he tried to call out. But by then, Menma's presence had vanished, leaving the fox alone in the darkness, his mind unsettled in a way it hadn't been for a thousand years.
That brat… why?
The thought gnawed at him. Kurama, who had lived for centuries with only anger and bitterness, now found his heart disturbed. Could this boy truly be the one the Sage had spoken of?
The confusion lingered long after Menma was gone.
And in his bed, back in the waking world, Menma shifted slightly in his sleep. The corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile, as if he were having the sweetest dream.
At that very same time, within the heart of Konohagakure, the Hokage's office was still lit despite the late hour. On the top floor of the Hokage Building, where the weight of authority rested, Sarutobi Hiruzen was finishing the last of the day's paperwork.
The door creaked open.
A figure of similar age to Hiruzen stepped inside.
"Oh? Yan," Hiruzen said, lifting his weary eyes. A faint smile appeared beneath his lines of age. "You've come at this hour. Is something urgent?"
The visitor was none other than Mitokado Homura, one of Hiruzen's oldest comrades and most trusted advisors.
"Hiruzen," Homura said gravely, stepping closer. "Do you truly intend to send Uzumaki Menma to the Academy? Danzo's proposal may have been extreme—forcing the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki into Root was unacceptable—but he wasn't entirely wrong. Allowing the jinchūriki to mingle with ordinary children could be dangerous. Would it not be better to place him directly under ANBU supervision for training?"
His voice carried concern, his brows furrowed with unease.
"You worry too much, Yan," Hiruzen replied with a firm but gentle tone. "Did Kushina not also attend the Academy? She lived a normal childhood, and the village was no worse for it."
"But Kushina's case was not the same—" Homura began, only to be cut off.
"It is the same," Hiruzen interrupted sharply. "Do not forget—Menma is Minato's and Kushina's son. If you doubt him, then you doubt them. And you doubt me as well."
The words were spoken softly, yet carried the weight of command.