Clear and plain words.
As Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen had no need to beat around the bush, especially when speaking to Iruka and Menma. He didn't need to put on airs—his authority was absolute. He could express his stance directly without hesitation.
After hearing the Third Hokage's words, Iruka, who had already braced himself for the worst, felt the weight lift from his chest. Relief washed over him.
Sarutobi Hiruzen was not Tsunade, nor Minato. He was the Hokage who had once led the village through war and crisis, who guided Konohagakure to rise again and stand tall. Having been in power for decades, his prestige was unmatched. In the Hidden Leaf Village, his words carried the weight of law.
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
Iruka lowered his head with respect, his voice tinged with excitement.
Only Menma remained uneasy. He looked up at the elderly Hokage, his expression showing worry and hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he spoke as if summoning every bit of courage within him:
"But… I still looked at the Book of Seals. That's the village's most guarded secret, meant only for Hokage-sama. My identity… is it really—"
"You are you, Menma," Hiruzen interrupted gently, shaking his head with a faint chuckle. "You are the child I've watched grow since the day you were born. I have always trusted you. Your identity is simple: a shinobi of Konohagakure—Uzumaki Menma. That alone is enough. You need not be concerned about titles or others' opinions. In time, your actions will speak for you.
"As for the Book of Seals, that is nothing. You defeated Mizuki, a traitor to this village, and for that, you have already done a great service. Consider what you gained from the Book your reward. You don't need to worry about punishment, Menma."
Hiruzen's voice carried the warmth of a grandfather, his gaze gentle. It seemed to radiate sincerity, as though he were the kindest of elders who only wanted to protect his grandson.
Perhaps some of his words did come from the heart.
But Menma knew better. He understood that the Third Hokage's every move, every word, was always tied to the greater "righteousness" of Konohagakure. The village came first—always. To Hiruzen, that righteousness justified every action.
Menma, however, did not share that conviction. He would not be fooled by the façade. Hiruzen's righteousness was not his righteousness. This village was not his final destination. His future lay elsewhere, in paths beyond the will of Konoha.
Still, outwardly, Menma played his part well. He forced a smile, widened his eyes with gratitude, and replied earnestly:
"Yes, Third Hokage-sama… Grandpa."
To Hiruzen, it looked like the boy's heart was overflowing with joy.
The old man smiled with satisfaction. This was the result he wanted. Everything was under control.
"Let's end this matter here," Hiruzen said warmly. "It's already very late. And isn't the graduation ceremony tomorrow? You both should return and rest."
Indeed, the night had stretched on since Mizuki's betrayal began. It was already past three in the morning.
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
"Yes, Third Grandpa."
Iruka and Menma bowed before leaving the wide Hokage's office.
At the steps of the Hokage Building, Iruka stopped. His expression grew serious as he turned to Menma.
"Menma, even though this matter has been settled, you must be cautious from now on. Starting today, you'll be a full-fledged shinobi. Missions can be dangerous. Even a moment's carelessness can cost lives. Remember this well."
"I understand, Iruka-sensei," Menma answered with firm resolve. "I'll be careful from now on."
"Good." Iruka's tone softened, and a smile spread across his face. "Then go home and rest. The graduation ceremony starts at nine. Don't be late."
"Yes, Iruka-sensei."
Iruka nodded, then turned and walked into the quiet streets toward his own home.
Menma remained behind, watching his teacher's figure fade into the night. Slowly, the smile on his face disappeared. His eyes turned cold as he glanced back at the Hokage Building, still glowing with candlelight.
This is only the beginning…
The last traces of winter faded, and the breath of early spring arrived.
Konoha Year 60, January.
Menma officially graduated from the Ninja Academy.
The protection of being a student was gone. From now on, he would face real enemies—powerful and merciless, far beyond Mizuki.
The night passed.
Dawn crept over the horizon.
When the first rays of sunlight touched the rooftops, the Ninja Academy in the heart of Konoha buzzed with excitement. The school had two lively seasons every year: the March entrance ceremony and the January graduation.
Fresh graduates proudly wore their new forehead protectors, standing tall at the academy grounds, ready to be recognized as genin. Younger students looked on with envy, eyes shining with dreams of one day graduating themselves.
None of them understood yet. They saw only the pride of becoming shinobi, not the bloodshed, sacrifice, and danger that came with it.
Menma, unlike most, had overslept until eight. Last night's events had taken a toll. Though Mizuki had only been an average chūnin, he had experience and battlefield instincts. Facing him in combat had been Menma's first real fight in this world.
In truth, Menma knew he hadn't been as flawless as he appeared. At the beginning of the battle, his kunai hand had trembled. After all, in his past life, he had lived in peace, never truly knowing bloodshed. The most he had ever done was "help" his master slaughter a chicken.
So his nerves had been real. His victory had not been about dominance—it was about adaptation.
And yet, that was what made the battle important.
Because last night, for the first time, Menma truly stepped into the shinobi world—a world forged in blood and fire.