Chapter Text
Leaving Itachi to think by himself, he went past the park to wander through the nearby forest, an Uzumaki swirl-patterned red parasol held in his left hand. Walking around with no destination in mind was one of his ― Madara's ― favorite pastimes.
Relishing the calming way the wind breezed around him with red, green, and yellow leaves falling along with the soft currents, seeing the sunlight filtered through the trees ― overall he was enjoying the scenery.
As Menma trudged through the forest, he thought about how almost pointless it was telling Itachi, a young loyal shinobi of this village, to avoid one of its government officials. Furthermore, as Madara, no one had ever listened to him when he advised them ― even he sometimes didn't listen to himself. Itachi was smart, but he was a shinobi, danger meant challenge that he would have just overcome or even endure.
He huffed in sudden trepidation of the near future.
"Oh, come on, do you have a voice? We can't hear you, you know."
It was uttered with a taunting, high-pitched voice and that caught his attention; making him stop in his track.
There, just directly in his line of sight, were three little girls cornering one girl. He narrowed his eyes as he regarded them, briefly wondering why they were here inside the forest and not like, somewhere else.
The girls seemed to be at the same age as Naruto, he assumed as he scanned their chakra. It wasn't hard to figure out that they were perfectly ordinary once he sensed their chakra. The potency and the amount of chakra they possessed, strongly suggest that they didn't come from a long line of shinobi ancestors.
One thing caught his attention, their hair colors which were the color of: purple, orange, pink, and red. They were unusual colors that if they were born in the Warring States Era ― where almost everyone had dark hair in Hi no Kuni ― they would be regarded as foreigners for sure.
"I, um, can we play kagome-kagome ―"
"Oh, geez, really?" one of the girls, one with the purple hair, complained. "Hey, why did you bring her here, Fuki-chan? She's no fun. Can she even talk?"
The orange haired girl, who stood beside the purple haired one, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Fuki-chan. She's so boring, all she does is looking down at, what? Her toes? What's so interesting about her toes, anyways?"
"She looked so lonely, so..." The redhead, Fuki, shrugged helplessly. "She said her parents are always on missions."
"She can talk to you about that but not to us?" demanded the orange haired girl.
"Always on missions? Her family must be so poor," quipped the girl with the purple hair.
"Well, she lives in a tiny house..."
"Really? How tiny?"
Deciding to watch them instead of letting his presence known, he sat on the ground. Propping his left hand on his left knee, Menma leaned on the tree next to him, all the while thinking what Hashirama would do if he watched the show with him.
It was just kids ― or in this case, little girls ― 'playing', but even a deaf person could tell they weren't friends. Hashirama would probably interfere and defend the one who was 'cornered', but surely he wasn't going to do such thing.
"Ah, I'm sorry, I'll just go ―" the pink haired girl started to speak up, only to be ignored once more.
"Hey, Kasumi, you've been staring at her. Say something," the purple haired girl, demanded.
The orange haired girl, Kasumi, grinned. "Ami... can you see it?"
"What?" the purple haired girl, that was apparently named Ami, asked.
"Her forehead!" Kasumi exclaimed with a lopsided grin. "It's so wide and looks funny!"
"E-eh?"
"It's hard not to stare at it all day, you know?"
"Wow, you're right!" Fuki gasped, closing in on the pink haired girl to brush the bangs that covered the girl's forehead aside.
"You're so smart, Kasumi! Hey, let me see..."
Menma blinked ― a few times in fact ― to be sure that he heard them right.
Wide forehead. The were now making fun of the pink haired girl's forehead.
Before he knew it, he chortled; pleasantly entertained by the silliest thing he had ever heard. His mirth made the four girls look at his direction, and soon, they were frozen in their place.
"Kyaa...!"
"Hiee, A-Ami-chan, Kasumi-chan..." Fuki stammered.
"A-Ami, i-is that a g-ghost?"
"I-I don't know! Is he...?"
"Ugh... you two, run! Come on, Sakura-chan!"
"Whoa, wait!" the pink haired girl cried out as the red haired girl named Fuki dragged her along. For some reason, the pink haired girl, Sakura, looked behind her as she ran, almost tumbling as she did so. Meeting her eyes for a brief moment, he sat there, staring blankly, trying to remember an almost-forgotten memory.
"I'll be the diversion! You guys, follow me!"
"Wait...!"
"I see," he muttered.
She was the one besides Naruto, Sasuke, and Kakashi that wasn't caught in the Eternal Tsukuyomi ― courtesy of Sasuke's Susano'o protecting them from the light that the moon generated. It might be because her existence was so insignificant to him that he didn't immediately recognize her.
But he should, as she was the one who possessed the same regeneration jutsu as Hashirama's descendant. He recalled that she was the one who had bravely or blindly ― with no strategy whatsoever ― charged at Madara. The girl could heal instantaneously without weaving hand seals, and because of that, he understood well why she was throwing away any sense of self-preservation, as instant healing would and could make someone reckless. Case in point, himself. He had charged at the nine bijū without thinking of a strategy and that was because he could heal almost instantaneously.
Of course he knew what the Byakugō seal, the seal Hashirama's descendant and that pink haired girl had on their forehead, was; otherwise he would be lost when Hashirama's descendant started backtalking to him after he pointed out her disgusting weaknesses as the fight had been utterly and mind-numbingly boring.
Long time ago, Mito had graciously explained what the seal was to both him and Hashirama. The seal was an Uzumaki seal to conserve and restore chakra that requires near-perfect and delicate chakra control to have. From what he could have gathered, Hashirama's descendant had made a further use of the seal; using it as a medium to keep her body young (his Rinnegan, at that time, could see the detailed seal patterns on her forehead that fed on her chakra to maintain her youthful appearance) and to use it as a source to maintain what she called Ninpō: Sōzō Saisei - Byakugō no Jutsu (Ninja Art: Creation Rebirth - Strength of a Hundred Jutsu), an instantaneous regeneration; something akin to what Hashirama was able to do.
Menma stood up, and resumed his walk.
Judging by the girl's ability to do the jutsu, it was likely that the girl was Hashirama's descendant's apprentice. One would think someone like her would defend herself even as a child; but she didn't. It was disappointing, really, that she was just a weak-willed girl with no backbone.
The girl repulsed him a little with the inability to stand up for herself, but he was reminded quickly that the girl was still young ― still a child. It made him wonder if Hashirama's descendant were a miracle worker for making that girl into the front-line medical shinobi that she was in his time as a Rikudō-enlightened Madara.
Something cold came falling from above and his thought process halted. He knew it was a drop of water trickling down his nose, which compelled him to look up.
It was droplets of water. They were dripping down, one by one, hitting the red parasol he had in hand and before he knew it, it was drizzling.
"Rain, eh," he whispered, holding out his hand to lett raindrops fall onto his palm.
Although it currently rained, the sky was still a clear blue. The smell of the earth, the sounds of the pouring rain, the sight of it; he relished in all of those. Rain, sometimes can be predicted sometimes not. The phenomenon was natural, and this was an occurrence that many took for granted.
But to his past self ― the old Madara alone in that underground cave ― rain was something he hadn't been able to witness nor feel in his years of hiding.
"There you are."
Hoisting Naruto by the collar of his white shirt, Menma stared directly at the brat's bright blue eyes, almost wanting bash the brat's head in when he found it was the ramen shop Kushina had frequented that Naruto had gone to for shelter.
Naruto laughed soundlessly, sheepish, his teeth showing and all. He smelled like miso; as devouring three bowls of miso ramen tended to do that to a person.
A few seconds in and Naruto struggled against his hold. "N-nii-chan... can't breathe..." Naruto wheezed as he was being suspended in the air longer than he could handle.
Taking pity on him, Menma roughly placed the boy on the stool. "You just had lunch and here you are eating ramen," he stated, face deadpanned.
Naruto coughed. He looked away, pulling a face as he did so. "It can't be helped, all right? It suddenly rained, and, um, this shop just smelled so good, 'ttebayo."
"Good grief," Menma uttered, rolling his eyes. "You know, this means no dinner for you, right?"
"Hmph." Naruto sniffed but wisely chose not to say anything.
"Oh, it's you, Menma-kun! Otō-san, Otō-san! It's Menma-kun! He finally came by!"
Menma bit back a groan. He should had known better than to enter the shop.
"Oh, Menma!" Teuchi greeted him before returning to serve another customer.
"How are you, Menma-kun?" Ayame asked him, eyes focusing solely on him.
Eyeing her with with a look of resignation, Menma answered, "Fine."
"It's been a while," Ayame exclaimed happily from behind the counter, face shining and all that. Like always, her behavior was too friendly, too bright. "What are you going to order today, Menma-kun?"
Menma raised one hand and slammed on the counter, leaving money to pay for the ramen. "I'm just fetching this brat here," he said as he foist Naruto off of the stool.
"Eh?" Ayame blinked, confusion clearly written on her face.
Feeling like he had to hurry, Menma urged, "Come on, Naruto."
"Ehhh... can I have one more bowl?"
He glared down at Naruto. "You are done eating."
"Wait, Menma-kun ―"
Paying no attention to the panicked Ayame in front of him, he grabbed Naruto's hand and lead him out of the shop. His red parasol was doing the job of protecting both him and Naruto from the rain once they were out of the shop.
"H-hey, where are we going?" Naruto voiced out, once they passed over their apartment. "Are we going to train?"
"It's raining," he said, but didn't deign the brat with an answer.
"Um, but that didn't stop us from training before?"
He sent the brat a look to silence him. "You'll know when we get there."
Naruto looked away and mumbled out, "Okay."
"It's cold!" Naruto bellowed, head shaking like a dog as he shivered. He was unlucky that a sudden cold torrent of rain hit him just before they entered the hospital. "S-so, Nii-chan. Are we going to see ― "
"Ah, Menma."
Menma let out a breath at the newcomer's voice and shoved Naruto behind him. "It's you. What are you doing here?" It was just yesterday he met with the 'older' Chūnin; Iruka's promotion to Chūnin coincided with his own.
"I was just visiting a friend of mine," Iruka informed with a small, polite smile. "You're visiting Kushina-shishō, right? Are you alone?"
Behind him, Naruto poked his head out, letting his presence known.
Iruka grimaced, subtly. Bringing his hands up in an awkward gesture, he resorted to chuckle awkwardly. He was like that for awhile before turning his back on them.
"Haha." Iruka showed them his widest smile. "Gotta go! See you later, Menma!"
"Weird," Naruto commented, brows furrowed.
"Ignore that," he said and then he continued onward to Kushina's hospital room with Naruto in tow.
"Her hair is so long."
"Yes."
"Should they cut it?"
"No."
"Can we cut it?"
"No."
"Kaa-chan's really is beautiful, isn't she?"
He paused before replying with a short 'yes'.
For the countless times Menma had observed Naruto, as they watched Kushina quietly from the side of her bed, this was the second time Naruto wasn't shedding tears or babbling endlessly. Maybe three years of age was the start for a child to start maturing, he mused briefly.
After some time of only gazing at Kushina, Naruto got uncomfortable and finally asked to go home. As always, Menma complied on the basis that staring at a comatose parent wasn't something a child should be forced to.
They exited Kushina's room, and it was at few meters away from Kushina's room that they met with an acquaintance.
"Hi there, Naruto-kun, visiting your mother, I see." Kabuto greeted, his right hand went to fix the position of his glasses. "You have your brother to accompany you this time."
"Kabuto-san, thank you for taking care of our mother," Naruto said, bowing deeply.
Menma stood there, impassive, before taking Naruto's hand and continuing on as if he didn't see the silver haired medic.
As they went to their separate ways, Kabuto slipped a piece of paper into his hand.
Menma repressed the urge to form a smile while he pocketed the paper.
"Hungry..."
"Just go to sleep, already."
"But... hungry..."
"There's breakfast tomorrow."
"Oh... that's right... breakfast..."
"Sleep."
"Ngh... 'kay..."
Once he heard no sound coming from the bed next to him, Menma smiled in relief. Free to think in silence, he went to ponder about mostly anything he could think of.
After the Kyūbi's Attack, someone that must be one of Tobirama's students, had announced that a newborn was the Kyūbi's jailer. Someone in the Konoha's upper echelon which consisted of three people and the Sandaime. With that information out in the open, of course the villagers asked for the name; and Uzumaki Naruto was the answer. The Sandaime didn't put a stop to the announcement, instead he added that Uzumaki Naruto was a hero and that the Yondaime, on his dying bed, wished for the child to be seen as such.
The only widely recognized Uzumaki in the village was Uzumaki Kushina. A few remembered Kushina going out often with the Yondaime. While her marriage with Minato wasn't made public ― like many paranoid and normal Shinobi were with their personal life ― some remembered that Kushina had a child and some put two and two together that Kushina was married to Minato.
There were no indications that Kushina and Minato were in a relationship, really. The noble clans wouldn't take the name of an outsider, and the Uzumaki was a prominent clan in Uzu no Kuni (and Uzushiogakure, but the village was just a copy of Konohagakure like the other shinobi villages were so he didn't, or rather, Uchiha Madara didn't acknowledge them). Kushina's clan name didn't change after she was married for the reason Konoha treated the Uzumaki as a foreign, noble clan. Just like Mito who didn't, or wouldn't, change her name into 'Senju Mito'.
Eyes half-lidded and lips forming into a deep scowl, Menma remembered the last time she was conscious. Giving birth and after that having the full Kyūbi ripped out of her was different than Naruto who had half of the Kyūbi ripped out and then having another half back. Only thanks to Kushina's unique chakra ― that was unique even by Uzumaki's standards ― that she survived the whole ordeal.
Kushina's smiles ― even after her husband died in front of her eyes ― were so earnest, he almost asked her if she's just high on adrenaline before she closed her eyes and went into a coma. For him who had lost everyone dear to him in his past life, Kushina was just bizarre. She had lost her parents, her who-knows-how-many-siblings, her clan, her village, her country... her husband... the list went on, yet she didn't break.
No one should be able to shrug off the pain of losing that easily. Maybe being in a coma was sort-of a blessing for Kushina; for she surely needed a break from this hell of a world.
Kushina believed in the Will of Fire; a belief that has numerous interpretations, which Kushina interpreted as 'love and family above all else'. In that sense, she was different than Minato ― who was more dedicated to protect Konoha in its entirety, rather than just his family. That was why Kushina couldn't become Hokage, as she simply was not capable of handling the title ― just like he was. Uchiha and Uzumaki do resemble each other in that 'blood family comes first' mentality.
And then he thought of his situation. Ever since he woke up in this reality, he had been referring to himself ― even in his thought process ― as 'Menma'. Every now and then he would slip up, but he was trying. After all, a name is a gift, a blessing from parents to their child.
He was reborn ― not invading a body like a parasite ― and it meant that this was a fresh chance for him. He wouldn't throw away both names he had been gifted with. He was both Uchiha Madara and Uzumaki Menma, and Kushina always reminded him of that.
Menma closed his eyes, letting himself fall into slumber.
The next morning he woke up as early as usual. He was able to appreciate the sunrise without interruption, with Naruto deciding to sleep longer that day.
Preparing breakfast was like a chore to him. In twenty minutes, breakfast was already done and set on the low dining table. Filling two cups with hot tea, he bent down, placing them on the dining table.
"Ahhh, I'm hungry!"
Menma unheeded the unholy screech. He untied the white apron he was wearing. "Can you say something else in the morning?" he deadpanned.
"Oh, Nii-chan, good morning."
"Yes, good morning to you too."
The brat flashed him an apologetic smile. "I'm just so hungry, dattebayo..."
He held Naruto's right hand up to prevent him from sitting down. "Go wash your face first."
"Ah, right!" Naruto exclaimed before dashing to the bathroom.
Their breakfast, which consisted of a bowl of cooked rice straight from the handy rice cooker, instant miso soup, sweet rolled dashi omelette, store-bought natto, boiled spinach with soy sauce sprinkled with katsuobushi, tofu cooked with meat and sukiyaki sauce for him and octopus-shaped sausages for Naruto.
Menma didn't exactly fancy sausages; as they were foreign food and didn't exist back then when Konoha was practically an infant. The sausages were a compromise for Naruto to eat the spinach (although Naruto could eat vegetables if they're cooked well, Naruto would avoid eating vegetables if he could get away with it).
"I don't understand Sasuke. He said natto is yucky and sweets are disgusting. And he's weirdly proud about it," Naruto started the morning with Sasuke as a topic of conversation while Menma was thoroughly stirring the natto in his bowl of hot rice. "Sure Natto smells bad, but it's kinda yummy! And it's healthy, right, Nii-chan?"
"There must be something wrong with his taste buds," Menma commented.
Natto was an acquired taste, hence why he understood the boy's dislike of it. He liked sweets just fine though. Heck, his favorite food was Inarizushi ― which he preferred to be mildly sweet.
"Yeah, Sasuke is lame, dattebayo. Like, he likes his gojira green. Green! I told him purple or orange are so much better but he won't listen," Naruto 'sagely' crossed his arms over his chest, his face upturned with a sneer. "And, and! Sasuke thinks that Chājiman Ken episode thirty-five isn't hilariously funny! He thinks it's horrible!"
Gojira, he didn't have much idea of what they are, but they must be some kind of a toy. But Chājiman Ken... he knew that atrocity. The animated show was the reason he had almost say his goodbye to the moving-pictures box called television for good (because it was too... odd).
"Are you friends with Sasuke?"
"Our mothers are friends, right?"
"Doesn't mean you have to be friends with him."
"R-right..." mumbled Naruto, putting his chopsticks down. "I don't know why, I just... I feel I have to be friends with him?" He shook his head and amended, "I'd like to be friends with Sasuke!"
"Heh." Smiling, Menma resumed eating, pretending he didn't notice the bewildered stare that Naruto sent in his way.
It wasn't much of a surprise that Naruto resembled Hashirama, with him approaching Sasuke instead of the other way around. Unlike his Future counterpart, this Naruto was calmer and more manageable ― and he could say that it was almost like dealing with Hashirama. Yet, they were different enough for him to not confuse Naruto for Hashirama.
Surprisingly, the boy turned out to be a sensor type. Hashirama was one but his talent in it was pathetic compared to his own (sage mode is superior to any type of sensing abilities anyway ― according to Hashirama and the time when he absorbed Hashirama's sage chakra confirmed it) but Naruto would be decent if he trained the skill.
Ready to leave, with a backpack on his back, Menma turned to look at Naruto directly in the eye.
"Study well. Read the books I recommended and write your thoughts about the books. Do not slack off writing only in Hiragana and Katakana, use more Kanji. Also, write the Kanji exactly as the stroke order. If you're bored, you can read manga or watch the television."
Uchiha were a clan that prided themselves on education. They wouldn't be learning ninjutsu until they were six, but from the early age of two, many would be learning how to read; starting with Hiragana and Katakana.
After pausing for a moment, Menma added, "Take a walk in the morning and meditate to feel your chakra, you know the drill. Oh, do eat out or buy some food in the convenience store down the street ― I've put some money in your... Gama-chan wallet. I want this apartment standing, so do not use the stove or the microwave oven. Always take a bath after dinner, watch out when filling the tub with hot water and don't waste too much soap ― the stuff is expensive. And... that's it. You at least can use the water heater without burning this apartment down."
Overwhelmed by the onslaught of words, Naruto staggered back. "Uh, how long are the mission gonna be, Nii-chan?" he asked, voice timid and laced with worry.
He had filed the mission request with one week as the estimate duration. He had nothing to worry; Naruto was safe from the least tolerant villagers' treatments as the apartment they lived in was located in a rather good neighbourhood.
"One week, mostly," Menma responded.
Pouting, Naruto crossed his arms and mumbled out, "That's forever."
"Go visit your friends' house if you get too lonely, I don't care. Just don't destroy the apartment, unless you want to sleep without a roof over your head."
Naruto eyes went to the side, still pouting, he said, "Can you leave a Kage Bunshin (Shadow Clone), Nii-chan? I want to eat more of your cooking, at least for today's lunch..."
Menma closed his eyes for a second before he exhaled out a breath.
He had bent over backwards for Naruto than he could count, he reminded himself. He knew that he should be more stern, but in the face of this child... most of the time, he was unable to do so.
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not your personal caretaker. If you want to eat homemade meal, just visit your aunt, you know the way to her house," he said, all the while avoiding to look at Naruto's face.
"... right. Got it."
"I'll be back before you know it," Menma assured, more for Naruto's sake than his own. "I'm off."
He was more than ready to take off but he was stopped by Naruto tugging the back of his shirt.
"Take care," said Naruto, with his head down and his eyes looking to the side.
Menma hesitated for a second before ruffling Naruto's hair, making the boy to squirm. "Ah."
After one last look over his shoulder, Menma jumped off of the their apartment's balcony. He then set off to his destination; the Hokage Tower.
.
.
.
Omake/Extra/Bonus: One
Madara had made it a self-imposed mission to eavesdrop on Hashirama whenever possible. Since knowing Tobirama's stance regarding his clan and that Hashirama was easily silenced by Tobirama's 'logic', he became wary of their intentions. It wasn't something he was proud of ― spying on Hashirama made his stomach churn and twist with shame and distress ― but for Izuna, he felt obliged to do this.
It helped that, although his skills in sensing was arguably inferior to Tobirama's, he could quench his chakra into nothing, making him perfect for spying on a sensor-type ninja.
"Hashirama-dono," Uzumaki Mito, the woman who married Hashirama before Konoha was built, spoke, "why are you friends with someone like him?"
There was a short pause before he heard Hashirama said, "Him, who?"
"Madara-dono."
"Oh, Madara?"
"Why are you associating yourself with him?"
"Hmm..."
"I'm sorry to say this, Hashirama-dono, but he's dreary."
"Dreary, you say?"
"All he does is skulking around like a ghost. And I dare say he is not a pleasant company to be with."
Madara held himself in, as he had almost clicked his tongue at that last remark.
The nerve of that woman; he had escorted the woman to Uzu no Kuni a while go for her annual visit to her homeland, and insults were what he got?
"Furthermore, he's an Uchiha. As such, he isn't one to be trusted," Mito continued.
Madara closed his eyes, clenching his teeth to contain himself.
It wasn't surprising in the least that someone would judge him solely by the clan he hailed from. It wasn't even surprising that one would just judge him based on mere rumors. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, he believed that. Still, he wasn't expecting Mito, the representative of the 'neutral' Uzumaki clan, to utter her honest opinion so carelessly.
Allowing himself to sneer, he passingly thought that she might be an accurate example of what a female version of Tobirama could be.
"Madara is fond of taking walks and his presence is oftentimes went unnoticed, so that's... skulking, I guess. But a ghost? He's not wearing all white," Hashirama said, sounding utterly bewildered and completely missing the point. Then, he inquired, "Mito, what brings you to question my relationship with Madara? Did he say something inappropriate to you?"
He certainly did not say anything inappropriate to Mito. He barely even talked to her.
"You, Senju Hashirama, is my husband. I need you to carefully choose the people you surround yourself with."
"Huh..."
"Surely you are not blind of his unsatisfactory traits."
He stilled. His unsatisfactory traits? Did she mean; his faults? If that's the case, she could be assured that Hashirama was not blind to his faults ― far from it. Hashirama was the only person, other than Izuna, he was able to be himself.
"Yeah, sure Madara is uncompromising, overwhelmingly competitive, likes making excuses, and he's really quick to assume on things..."
It was really hard not to just bust down that door open and simply burst in ― but that would reveal that he was spying on Hashirama, and that would automatically ruin the fragile trust between him and Hashirama.
"But you, know? He won't be Madara without all his 'faults'!"
What did Hashirama just say now?
"Hashirama-dono, you..."
"Madara is my sworn friend and he is truly like a brother to me. That's why, Mito..."
A sound interrupted Hashirama from continuing his 'speech'.
It was a giggle. Mito was laughing, it seemed.
"I understand, Hashirama-dono. I was curious as you two are a rather rare phenomenon."
"Mito, care to elaborate?" Hashirama asked, sounding serious for once.
"Just the other day when you were fooling around with him, I witnessed that you can synchronize your jutsu, even your chakra, perfectly with Madara-dono. It also came to my attention that you and your brother, Tobirama, cannot do so."
So that was why. Since around one week ago, Tobirama had been giving him those looks for reasons unknown to him.
"It should be impossible; both of your chakra are fundamentally different, the opposites, even. Then, I thought of a theory, a possibility, that Madara-dono is..."
He abruptly turned, not bothering to hear the rest of their conversation. What he had heard was enough for his doubts about Hashirama's stance regarding him lessening for a little.
With a smile that was concealed by the high-collar of his attire, Madara saw the edges of his vision brightened as he trudged away.