Deep within the cavern of the Iburi clan, a stray shaft of sunlight filtered through a hollow in the roots above, casting a warm glow onto the lush saplings that breathed life into the darkness.
Gotta, accompanied by Yukimi and the remaining twenty-five members of the clan, had finished packing their meager belongings, ready to migrate.
"This is our clan's final resting place," Gotta murmured, crouching down to brush his fingertips against a tender green sprout.
"Our bloodline is volatile. We rarely live past the age of twenty-five before we scatter into the wind. No bodies are left behind. Therefore, for every kinsman who passes, we plant a sapling here."
Menma stood silently behind him. As far as the eye could see, the underground space had transformed into a dense, silent grove of young trees.
Looking at the newest saplings, Yukimi slowly began to accept the reality that Tenzō and the other children were truly gone. After paying their respects to the dead, Gotta led his people toward the exit.
"This passage links to another cavern—a backup base our clan spent years excavating," Gotta explained as they navigated the deep tunnel. Based on his memory of the surface terrain, Menma deduced they were heading toward the heart of the mountain range.
"I will arrange for someone to deliver food, medicine, and supplies," Menma said after a moment's thought. "The organization's main base is still under construction. You'll move there in due time."
"We await your orders, My Lord!" Gotta replied respectfully.
Inside the basement of Menma's private residence back in the Hidden Leaf, a specialized Flying Raijin kunai hung suspended in the air.
Whoosh—
Menma materialized out of thin air, dispelling his Transformation Jutsu to return to his natural form as a young boy.
In the Limited Tsukuyomi world, the first S-rank technique he had mastered was the Flying Raijin, learned directly from Minato Namikaze. Thanks to his Uzumaki physique, his massive chakra reserves allowed him to perform long-distance teleports that would have exhausted an ordinary ninja.
"Territory... I need territory..." Menma climbed the stairs out of the basement, his brow furrowed in thought.
In his previous world, he had been a force of nature, a legend who faced eighty thousand shinobi alone—but he had never bothered to build an organization or manage a domain. He had known that world was a fabrication. There was no Madara, no Zetsu, no Kaguya, and no threats from the stars. He had felt the world rejecting his very presence every waking second.
Here, while he still felt occasional bouts of surrealism, his body no longer experienced that rejection. Having recruited Kakuzu and Gato, and now securing the Iburi clan, the skeleton of an organization was forming. It was time to establish a base of operations.
This world was dangerous. The Akatsuki here had Obito and Zetsu behind them; the deceased Madara had left backdoors for his resurrection; Kaguya remained sealed within the moon. And somewhere in the vastness of space, the Otsutsuki were still hunting for this planet.
To unify the shinobi world and maximize its resources and chakra, he needed a powerful faction. Besides, as a man from a previous life where the concept of a unified nation was deeply ingrained, the idea of a fragmented world bothered him.
"Young Master."
In the courtyard, Kotona and Yuka were hanging laundry and sweeping fallen leaves.
"No need to prepare dinner for me tonight," Menma said as he headed straight for the study.
"Understood, Young Master." The two women bowed slightly. They were used to Menma wandering the village for local delicacies; it meant they could go home early to their own families.
Inside the study, Menma unrolled a map of the shinobi nations across his desk.
The countries to the east aren't suitable. Squeezed between the Land of Fire, Lightning, and Water, they are small and resource-poor. Developing there would mean an immediate, violent conflict with the Great Nations. Not ideal for the early stages.
To the north is the Land of Iron... nothing but eternal snow and harsh environments.
The central region has many small nations, but it's a chaotic mess wedged between Fire, Wind, and Earth. The Land of Rain is already home to the Akatsuki. Too much heat.
That leaves the West...
His eyes locked onto the western frontier.
The Lands of Demons, Bears, Spirits, Snow, and Swamps. Combined, their landmass rivals that of Lightning or Water. The Land of Demons has the Moryo monsters, the Land of Bears has the Star Village, and the Land of Snow has advanced heavy industry. Swamps and Spirits have vast agricultural potential. If integrated, they could cover each other's weaknesses.
These were mid-sized nations. Their populations were scattered, but the value of unification was immense. He could simply ignore the tiny island nations and city-states in between.
As Menma prepared to send orders to Gato, a small hand slapped down onto the map.
"Hey, hey, Menma! Let's go get something good to eat!" A miniature Nine-Tails, as delicate and exquisite as a porcelain doll, sprawled across the map. She looked at him with expectant eyes, her nine tails wagging like an excited puppy.
"I really can't say no to you, can I? Fine, let's go to Ichiraku Ramen," Menma said, patting the fox's head affectionately.
"Yay!" The little Nine-Tails cheered and hopped onto his shoulder. Menma donned a scarf, allowing the fox to hide within the folds and observe the world in secret.
"Is that him?!"
"Yeah, that's the one... the... you know..."
"Disgusting... why is a monster like that allowed in the village?"
"He's the one who killed the Fourth..."
"Shh! Keep it down..."
Three-year-old Naruto walked alone down the street. The whispered malice from the bustling crowd felt like hidden kunai, stabbing into his young heart. Every glance was filled with loathing; every murmur carried poison.
Young Naruto didn't understand why everyone discriminated against him. Since his earliest memories, he had lived in a world of isolation. No one would play with him, no one would speak to him, and even shopkeepers refused to sell him food. The caretakers assigned to him had been cycled through several times due to their own resentment, until finally, at age three, he had been left to fend for himself.
The weight of the stares became too much. Naruto began to run, desperate to escape the world.
THUD!
Running blindly, Naruto didn't see the figure in front of him. He crashed into someone and fell hard onto his rear. Opening his eyes, he saw a boy about his own age, leisurely snacking on dango.
"Hey, kid. Didn't your mom ever tell you to say 'sorry' when you bump into someone?" Menma asked, chewing his dango. He hadn't expected to run into his 'brother' under these circumstances.
"S-sorry..." Naruto murmured, looking up. "I don't have a mom..."
"What a coincidence. I don't have one either," Menma replied, dropping a casual bit of 'hellish' humor.
Naruto stared at him blankly, a strange sense of kinship suddenly blooming in his chest.
"Well, as an apology, buy me a bowl of ramen," Menma said, gesturing toward the Ichiraku Ramen stand nearby.
Naruto's eyes went wide. "Huh?!"