Chapter 4: Shadows of the Past
The city of Magnolia thrummed with life, but Menma Uzumaki moved through it with calm precision. The chaos of the streets — merchants shouting, children chasing each other, carriages clattering — barely registered to him. His senses were trained to detect more than mere sound or movement; faint magical traces danced on the edge of perception, and every vibration in the cobblestones carried information about the world around him.
This morning, however, there was a quiet tension in the air, an unspoken reminder of the darkness that could lurk just beyond the bustling city. Menma's thoughts drifted briefly to the shadows of his past missions — rifts, rogue magical anomalies, and monsters that lurked between dimensions. He had faced death countless times, but the weight of responsibility had never left him.
"Another job, Menma?" Makarov's voice called from the guild entrance, warm and familiar.
"Yes, Master," Menma replied, bowing slightly. He had been assigned a series of small missions to help with local disturbances — perfect for easing back into guild life while observing the people and the city he would now protect.
As he walked toward the first assignment, a notification from the guild's communication system appeared: a notice about Lisanna Strauss's passing. His heart tightened slightly at the familiar name. Though the guild had spoken little of it, Menma had heard whispers — a tragic accident during a remote mission. Yet seeing it officially listed brought the reality forward.
He sighed quietly. "So even here, grief follows."
The Job
Menma's assignment was simple on paper: investigate strange energy readings in the northern outskirts. When he arrived, however, the air shimmered unnaturally, and the soft rustle of leaves carried a hint of malevolent magic. He crouched, palm touching the earth, drawing faintly glowing runes into the soil.
"Space Devil Slayer Magic…" he murmured. The energy responded instantly, as though recognizing him. A faint ripple in the air indicated the presence of a creature — not fully in this dimension, a transient fiend slipping between here and a mirror-like space.
It was small, barely the size of a dog, but vicious in movement, fangs glinting. Menma's chains shimmered into existence, snaking through the air to trap the creature without harming it. His Wood Make Magic sprouted a lattice of wooden restraints, wrapping gently but firmly around the fiend.
The creature snarled, struggling, but Menma's calm presence, coupled with his precise magic, subdued it. He could have ended its life easily, but that was never his way. Restraint was always his first choice — and perhaps the only one that kept him from losing himself to the power he wielded.
Learning of Loss
After the fiend was contained, Menma returned briefly to Magnolia to check in. Passing the guild hall, he noticed Mira cleaning the counter, her expression distant. He approached cautiously, mindful of her mood.
"Mira…" he began softly. "I heard the news."
Her hands stilled. She looked up, eyes glossy. "It's… Lisanna… I can't believe she's gone. I keep thinking I should have done more, or… or stopped her from leaving."
Menma pulled a chair beside her. "Grief doesn't mean you failed. It means you cared. She would want you to remember her with life, not with regret."
She swallowed hard, nodding. "But it hurts… so much."
Menma's gaze softened. "It should hurt. But you're not alone, Mira. Not now. And you won't be again."
Their hands met briefly, a gesture of comfort that carried the weight of unspoken understanding. In that moment, Menma realized that while he could face monsters, rifts, and rogue magic, helping someone heal from loss required a different kind of strength — patience, empathy, and quiet presence.
Evening Reflections
That night, Menma sat atop a quiet rooftop, overlooking Magnolia. The city lights shimmered like stars fallen to earth. He could sense the delicate web of magical energy flowing through the streets, each thread a life, a choice, a story.
Even the smallest life is worth protecting, he thought. The weight of his Rinnegan, Sharingan, and EMS pulsed faintly beneath the eyepatch, a reminder of the immense potential he carried. Power could isolate a person; restraint could save lives. He had chosen restraint.
And yet… the shadows lingered. Reports of rogue guilds, dimensional rifts, and unstable magic made him uneasy. He had returned to Magnolia to find family and belonging, but he would never allow the darkness to claim those he cared for.
"Tomorrow, I hunt again," he whispered to the night. "And I'll protect anyone who cannot protect themselves. No matter the cost."