Menma carried a greater sense of urgency than Sasuke.
For Sasuke, revenge against his elder brother was the driving force of his existence. Though Itachi would never truly kill him, Sasuke himself didn't know that—his heart was consumed with vengeance.
But Menma's situation was different.
The Nine-Tails sealed inside him was a far greater problem.
Whether it was Konoha's leadership or the Akatsuki lurking in the shadows, there was no question—they would all keep their eyes fixed on him.
He had to gain the power to protect himself as quickly as possible. He needed a clear plan, clear goals, and the strength to back them up.
Over the years, Menma had gradually clarified his path. He understood the next steps.
Remaining a good student at the Academy wouldn't be enough. Training alone wouldn't allow him to experience explosive growth. Even if he excelled far beyond his classmates, what did it mean to be the "king among children"?
His enemies weren't Academy students. His enemies stood at the very peak of the shinobi world.
That included figures like Uchiha Madara, lurking beyond death in the Pure Land.
Black Zetsu and Obito, manipulating the world from the shadows.
And even Kaguya Ōtsutsuki—the progenitor of chakra, sealed away but waiting across a thousand years.
Each one more terrifying than the last.
How could he afford to relax?
Unlike his classmates, Menma didn't dream of graduation just to receive a headband and call himself a shinobi. His desire to graduate early stemmed from something far greater.
Conversation with Kurama
Kurama, Menma called inwardly as he walked home with an expressionless face. Within his inner world, his spiritual form appeared before the massive fox, lazily sprawled behind the bars of the seal. With my current physical strength, how many tails' worth of chakra can I withstand?
The Nine-Tails cracked open an eye, his massive pupil glinting.
"Hmph. Right now? At most, three tails," Kurama scoffed, his deep voice rumbling with disdain.
Menma's brow furrowed.
Since their first confrontation in Konoha's fifty-fifth year, nearly six years had passed. Menma had often entered his inner world, speaking with the Nine-Tails. Over time, their exchanges had grown longer, their mutual understanding deeper.
Of course, for Kurama, those talks had also brought confusion.
This child wasn't normal.
Menma knew his true name—Kurama. He also knew the names of the other eight tailed beasts. He spoke of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara as if he had seen them himself. At times, his words even hinted at knowledge of things that had happened a thousand years ago.
How could a human child know such things?
Kurama found himself unsettled.
Menma, of course, never revealed everything. He didn't expose his "true identity." But by sprinkling these hints, he forced Kurama to acknowledge him as something different—someone special enough that even a tailed beast had to take him seriously.
This was Menma's strategy: a calculated way to win Kurama's acknowledgment and grudging trust.
And it worked.
Did Kurama truly accept him? Of course not. But Menma had penetrated the fox's walls, forcing him to regard Menma not as a mere vessel, but as a dangerous unknown.
And coupled with the tempting deals Menma had previously offered, their relationship became something unique—formed much earlier than in the original timeline.
By now, Menma could borrow Kurama's power. Yet he had never done so, not even once.
The reason was simple: surveillance.
Even if Hiruzen Sarutobi wasn't watching him twenty-four hours a day, there were still Anbu on constant guard. If he revealed the ability to wield the Nine-Tails' chakra prematurely, everything would change.
Menma knew from the original course of events that this surveillance ended after his graduation. Once Kakashi became his team leader, the mission to monitor him had been canceled. If Kakashi himself couldn't handle a situation, no number of Anbu would make a difference—and Hiruzen had recognized that.
If things unfolded the same way in this life, Menma would be "free" only after graduating next year.
So for now, he endured.
Power Calculations
But the question remained—how much of Kurama's chakra could he actually handle?
Kurama had said three tails.
Menma frowned. Three tails… not enough.
Three tails' worth of chakra might be enough to crush an ordinary jōnin. But against a true Kage-level opponent? Insufficient.
His bottom line was clear: by the time of the Chūnin Exams, he needed to withstand four—no, even five tails' worth of chakra. Only then could he say he had the power to truly defend himself.
"Hmph. And don't get cocky, brat," Kurama rumbled, lifting his head. "Even saying 'three tails' was optimistic. You've never drawn on my chakra once. No one knows how well you'll endure it. If my malice corrodes your mind, you'll be swallowed whole. Even I won't be able to save you."
Menma paused, then nodded slowly.
That was true.
Even without Kurama's conscious will behind it, the fox's chakra was corrosive—physically destructive, but more dangerously, mentally overwhelming. Without control, it could devour his will and leave him nothing but a beast.
"I understand, Kurama," Menma answered seriously. "I'll be cautious. But soon… I need to test your power."
"Hmph. Do whatever you want," Kurama said, turning away with theatrical disinterest. "I'll hold up my end of our agreement. The rest isn't my concern."
Despite his tone, Menma could see through him.
He smiled faintly but said nothing. Their relationship was fragile, but for now, it was enough.
The Road Ahead
Stepping back into reality, Menma's eyes drifted toward the Hokage Tower rising in the distance.
Soon… the official stage begins.
His gaze sharpened, a dangerous light flickering in his pupils.