"Well now… Zabuza Momochi, the Demon of the Hidden Mist? That's quite the unexpected turn of events," muttered Sarutobi Hiruzen, his old but sharp eyes studying the two sealed scrolls and the massive Kubikiribōchō—the Executioner's Blade—lying before him.
A simple C-rank escort mission escalating into an A-rank engagement wasn't unheard of, but it was still rare. That such an event would occur under Team 7's very first mission left even the Third Hokage momentarily stunned.
After a brief pause, he motioned subtly with his pipe. An ANBU operative flickered into the room, collected the sealing scroll and Zabuza's blade, then disappeared in a blur of motion.
"These will be of great value to the village," Hiruzen thought aloud. "Even if the blade isn't used within Konoha, it could serve as leverage in future negotiations with Kirigakure. Both the corpses and the weapon carry strategic worth."
His gaze lifted toward Hatake Kakashi, standing respectfully before the Hokage's desk. "Now then, Kakashi," Hiruzen said, "tell me your assessment. What do you make of Menma?"
Kakashi straightened, his single visible eye serious for once. "Yes, Hokage-sama. In my judgment, Menma is a disciplined, reliable, and exceptionally capable shinobi. I believe, given time, he could become one of Konoha's pillars—perhaps even rivaling the Fourth Hokage someday."
The old man exhaled slowly, studying Kakashi in silence. For a moment, even the faint rustle of leaves outside seemed to still. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Hiruzen's expression softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"…Good. That's reassuring to hear. I'll continue entrusting Team 7 to your guidance. Whether it's Menma, Sasuke, or Naruto—I expect you to help each of them grow in the right direction."
"Yes, Hokage-sama. You have my word." Kakashi bowed deeply.
"Very well. You're dismissed."
With a quiet whoosh, Kakashi vanished in a swirl of leaves. Hiruzen returned to his paperwork, his pipe smoke curling lazily into the air.
⸻
Back in his quarters, Menma Uzumaki—the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki—sat alone in the dim light. He had no idea that the Third Hokage's "trust" was still laced with a layer of watchful suspicion.
And that, of course, was only natural.
Unlike Naruto in the original timeline—boisterous, naive, and hopelessly optimistic—this Menma was composed, observant, and calculating. No matter how much Hiruzen claimed to trust him, the boy was a living weapon. The Nine-Tails' chakra could never be ignored.
The Third Hokage hadn't maintained power for over four decades by being careless. He'd secured the seat of Hokage after the death of Tobirama Senju, and he'd held it through war, diplomacy, and manipulation. To survive that long at the helm of Konoha required more than just wisdom—it required a shrewd and sometimes ruthless mind.
Menma knew that all too well.
He thought bitterly about what he remembered from his previous life—the "original story." How Sarutobi had been portrayed as benevolent and just. But beneath that mask of kindness, Menma saw hypocrisy and moral cowardice.
Shimura Danzō.
That man's existence was proof enough.
If Hiruzen truly hadn't known what Danzō was doing, then he was a fool. But if he had known and chosen silence, then he was complicit. Either way, the outcome was the same—weakness disguised as tolerance.
To Menma, that made the Third Hokage both foolish and dangerous.
He would not trust such a man.
⸻
Now, as night deepened over the village, Menma's mind sharpened with resolve.
Konoha was heading toward chaos. And if he wanted to survive—if he wanted to be free—he had to prepare.
He sat at his desk, studying a sheet of paper covered in carefully written notes—plans, names, timelines. His eyes lingered on one particular phrase:
"Chūnin Exams."
That was it. That was the moment.
'It has to be during the Chūnin Exams…' Menma thought. 'When Orochimaru attacks, when Konoha collapses into confusion… that will be the perfect time to disappear.'
It wasn't about betrayal. It was about survival—and freedom.
But this was only a preliminary outline. No plan survived contact with reality. He would have to adapt when the time came. Still, for now, that exam period—the chaos of Konoha Crush—was his best opportunity.
'Still… I'll need backup plans. Multiple exits. No mistakes this time.'
He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. His survival would depend on preparation, power, and precision.
The most critical factor was still his strength. Without overwhelming ability, everything else would crumble.
That was why Menma had thrown himself fully into training these past few days since returning from the Land of Waves.
⸻
His progress with the Rasengan had reached a crucial stage.
He recalled vividly how Jiraiya had once taught Naruto in the original story—the three-stage training process burned into his memory. While Menma had no teacher now, he had both knowledge and experience.
The first stage—learning to rotate chakra in multiple directions simultaneously—was already complete. He had even begun refining the second stage, controlling the chakra's density and power. The third stage—maintaining the Rasengan's stability without dispersing chakra—remained a challenge, but he was close.
He could already form a functional Rasengan, though small errors in chakra control still caused instability or premature dissipation.
During their mission in the Land of Waves, his combat training had accelerated his growth, and now that he was back, he intended to perfect the technique completely.
He tightened his fist, focusing his chakra. A faint hum filled the room as blue energy began swirling in his palm—spinning faster, denser, sharper—until it pulsed with destructive force.
But after a few seconds, it sputtered, breaking apart in a flash of light.
Menma exhaled. "Still not perfect."
No matter.
He would get there soon.
For now, his Rasengan training—paired with his developing control over the Nine-Tails' chakra—would serve as the cornerstone of his next phase of evolution.
If Konoha was destined to fall into darkness, then Menma would not be dragged down with it.
He would carve his own path.
Even if it meant gambling his life.