October 8th – Konoha, Training Ground 7 – Afternoon
The fading sunlight spilled through the canopy of Training Ground 7, gilding the autumn leaves in molten gold. Beneath that warm glow, two figures moved in perfect harmony—clashing, shifting, advancing and retreating with breathless rhythm. To the casual observer, they might have seemed like dancers entangled in a passionate, wordless duel. But this was no performance. This was raw combat, honed to an art form.
Menma and Guy were training again.
Their limbs blurred as they exchanged strikes. Fists thudded against forearms. Palms clashed. Legs swept low or came crashing down from above. When Menma attacked with sharp, fluid precision, Guy would yield with grace and counter with equal force. When Guy pushed forward with brutal speed, Menma flowed like water to regain ground.
The so-called "turtle training" had long outgrown its name. What was once slow, methodical conditioning had transformed into a high-speed battle drill bordering on elite Jonin level. Guy had gradually increased the intensity—bit by bit—until Menma's movements were now so refined, so fast, that any trained eye could mistake him for a battle-hardened veteran.
And the weights—those crushing weights—had tripled in mass. Menma now carried three times his own weight during training, and that was no small feat. While he was technically only eight, Menma's body had long since defied normal biology. His muscle and bone density were so high that even a sharp kunai would barely leave a mark. Were it not for his youthful face, he could be mistaken for a grown warrior molded from chakra itself.
Guy, in all his intensity, had come to admit—albeit only to himself—that Menma's body was beyond anything he had ever witnessed. It was a gift. A miracle. A monstrous miracle. And yet, even more astonishing was the boy's ability to learn. In just four months, Menma had mastered two advanced footwork techniques, three striking styles, and had already blended them into his own unique form. Guy would not dare admit it aloud, but this child—this student—was outpacing even his wildest expectations.
Clash!
Bang!
The impact sent both of them skidding backward across the training field. Dust curled around their feet as they landed—Menma hunched over, panting heavily, his bare chest rising and falling with exertion.
Sweat ran down his frame in rivulets, soaking into his short training tights. His long, dark red hair clung to his temples, and his flushed skin gleamed under the sun's last rays. Though his breaths were labored, his eyes were sharp—like a young tiger, worn but still ready to pounce.
He inhaled deeply, then sat down, folding his legs beneath him. A practiced routine. His chakra, always eager to burst free, needed calming. Though his control had advanced exponentially, the density of his chakra made long periods of exertion unstable. If he didn't regulate it, it would start leaking uncontrollably—an explosion waiting to happen.
Now, with five months of relentless training behind him, Menma could push his body to its true limit. His physical movements, speed, and reflexes had reached heights most adult shinobi struggled to reach. But his internal struggle was ongoing. His chakra was like a restless wildfire—it needed daily taming.
A soft meow brought him out of his focus.
Snow approached from the shade of a nearby tree, her steps light but vigilant. She had been acting differently these days—more alert, more defensive. He'd noticed it. He'd even started bringing her with him to every location, refusing to let her wander alone. Her small frame—still kitten-like—belied her age. She was one year old, but she looked barely a few months. Still, in her eyes burned a sharpness no average feline possessed.
Menma picked her up, holding her against his chest. He gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head.
Muah!
Meow! (Tail flick!)
She scolded him with a disapproving trill. She wasn't in the mood. She had smelled something strange—again. Something she didn't like.
Still, he held her gently, whispering an apology.
"You're my little queen..."
Nearby, Guy was smiling—beaming with pride, actually. He approached and threw a triumphant fist into the air.
"You shine so brilliantly, little Menma! Your determination! Your rhythm and transitions today—they were like poetry in motion! My flames of youth burn brighter just watching you!"
Menma flushed, quickly bowing.
"Sensei, you're embarrassing me again… If I shine, it's because your guidance lit the way. Compared to your brilliance, I'm just a little spark."
Guy's teeth gleamed in his iconic smile. He responded with a glowing thumbs up.
Menma returned the gesture. "Youth!"
"Burn!"
And then the two burst into laughter.
After their shared moment, Guy began calmly pointing out flaws in Menma's form, transitions, and angles. Menma absorbed every word with laser focus, repeating movements, correcting mistakes. His muscle memory was being rewritten—painfully, diligently, joyfully.
They continued until the sun began to sink below the treetops.
As Menma sat down to rest before chakra training, he noticed something odd.
Yoruusagi had arrived—in full ANBU attire.
He blinked. That was unusual. Phantom and Raven hadn't shown up today either, and Kakashi was missing since morning. Only "A" had arrived briefly after lunch, and the rest of the time Menma was left with a silent unfamiliar ANBU guide.
Something felt… off.
Yoruusagi approached with brisk steps, dust trailing behind her. Despite her mask, Menma could sense her affection. She stopped in front of him, crouched gracefully, and reached out—tucking away the wild strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes.
She cupped his face gently.
"You've trained so hard, Menma," she whispered. "I'm proud of you."
Menma grinned bashfully. "Thank you, teacher. Sorry about the mess... That spinning kick earlier—it took half my braid with it."
"Hmm…" Yoruusagi narrowed her eyes. "Then maybe I shouldn't help braid it anymore."
"What?! Teacher!"
"Nope. You're only getting one style in the morning. No more evening pampering."
"But teacher—"
"Find your big brother and beg him for a comb!"
"D-deal!!"
Pffft!
She couldn't hold her laughter in. "Poor Kakashi… his future looks grim."
They both laughed again—snow nestled between them, watching curiously.
And in that perfect moment of peace, with golden sunlight fading and the wind carrying autumn's gentle whisper, none of them could feel the storm silently gathering on the edge of the horizon.
Menma was giggling softly, practically glowing with happiness. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the intensity of the training, his hair still damp from sweat and his heartbeat gradually slowing as he sat beside Yoruusagi. Snow lay curled in his lap, purring faintly with satisfaction, occasionally flicking her tail against his thigh.
They were waiting for chakra training to begin, and everything seemed just as it always was. Comfortable. Familiar. Safe.
But today was not like the others.
Yoruusagi tilted her head slightly as she looked at Menma's bright face. She knew what he was expecting—what he wanted. She saw the hope dancing behind his eyes, the eagerness to continue. Yet, it was time to intervene.
"Little Menma," she said softly, "your training today has come to an end."
Menma blinked, confused. His smile faltered. "Huh? Why though? I'm already fine… We just started."
Yoruusagi smiled warmly and reached out to pat his head, running her fingers gently through his tangled hair. She could feel the heat from his scalp, the accumulated strain in his body. He was trying so hard. Too hard.
She pinched his cheeks playfully, making him wince with a pout.
"There are many reasons why we should stop, but two should be enough for you today."
Her voice dropped slightly, more serious now.
"Menma… the teacher sees it, even if you try to hide it. You've been pushing yourself far beyond what's safe. Sometimes, letting go—resting—is more powerful than training harder. Both your body and your spirit need time to breathe."
"I'm no medical ninja," she admitted with a chuckle, "but it doesn't take one to see the truth. Your body has been under extreme pressure for too long. It's starting to fray at the edges. You've always endured, but that doesn't mean you should."
She tapped his chest with a gentle knuckle, right over his heart.
"So for one week, I'm asking you to rest. Sleep, eat, play. Heal. Let yourself live a little."
Menma looked down at his hands, still covered in fine chalky dust from earlier combat. He understood. He knew she was right. His body had been aching for relief for days, and he was only forcing himself through it out of habit now.
"I understand, Teacher," he said softly. "I know you want the best for me... Honestly, I've been meaning to ask for rest too. I was just waiting a few more days. But... this is fine. I'll listen. I'll be obedient."
From the side, Guy had been watching the exchange. When Menma's eyes turned to him, questioning, the man scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Teacher Guy... you knew about this, didn't you? Why didn't you say anything?"
Caught red-handed, Guy gave an awkward grin, his teeth glinting in the sunlight.
"Well, you came in today with such blazing spirit, and I... I felt the fire calling! The thrill of movement, the joy of combat—I couldn't bring myself to say no. Then, after we started, I just... forgot."
Yoruusagi sighed heavily.
Between this boy and this man, I'm raising a pair of muscle-headed lunatics...
"I see," Menma said innocently, "That's... reasonable. I was excited too, Teacher Guy! But after resting, let's burn even brighter!"
"Absolutely! I'll recharge too. I won't disappoint you, little Menma!"
A, who had been stoically sitting by the barrier array with one hand on his lower back, groaned silently.
Please… just… don't burn too bright next time.
Menma turned back to Yoruusagi.
"You said there were two reasons. That was the first. What's the second? And… where's everyone else? Phantom? Raven? Even Kakashi-niisan… no one showed up today."
Yoruusagi stood smoothly, brushing the dust from her cloak. Her expression shifted. She gave a subtle hand signal.
"Come. Walk with me."
Menma jumped to his feet, said goodbye to Guy, and scooped up Snow. He moved to follow, but Yoruusagi stopped him with a raised hand.
"Wait, Menma. You're soaked in sweat again. Don't put your clothes on like that."
She summoned a sphere of cool, clean water, which hovered above his head. With a flick of her fingers, it collapsed like a waterfall, washing over him. Snow leapt off him just in time, shaking her wet paws.
Menma chuckled, shaking his hair out like a dog.
He then ran a measured flow of chakra across his skin—warming and drying it, evaporating moisture without burning himself. Once dry, he began dressing again.
Seeing his wild hair sticking in every direction, Yoruusagi couldn't help but giggle. With a soft wind release technique, she gently combed the strands back down into a smooth curtain of crimson, cascading over his shoulders like silk.
"You always mess it up after training," she teased. "At this rate, I should teach Snow to braid your hair."
Menma rolled his eyes as he tried to tie it into a ponytail again.
They walked side-by-side into the village streets, the quiet rhythm of sandals on stone echoing beneath them.
As they approached the village gates, the streets thickened with people. A crowd had gathered in hushed excitement. Konoha Police were stationed at key positions, creating a ring to prevent chaos.
Yoruusagi led Menma to a higher vantage point—a wall where they could see the movement below.
Menma narrowed his eyes, watching people cluster near the entrance. "What's going on? Is someone important coming?"
Yoruusagi knelt beside him so she could speak clearly over the low hum of voices.
"Yes, Menma. This is the second reason."
She paused a moment, letting her words sink in.
"Even though the Third Great Shinobi War ended, tensions never truly ceased—especially with the Village Hidden in the Clouds. For years, we've been clashing in the shadows, losing people quietly."
She looked out across the crowd.
"But last month… things shifted. After long negotiations and political maneuvering, a fragile peace agreement was reached. Today, the Cloud envoys are arriving to finalize it. Over the next few days, both villages will meet and formally sign the peace treaty."
She turned to him, serious now.
"That's why the others aren't here. Every capable shinobi—especially ANBU—are on alert. Our enemies won't be pleased with this peace. Sabotage is likely. Accidents may happen."
She hesitated again. Then finally added:
"We've been assigned to protect the diplomats. That's why Kakashi and I won't be near you these next few days. Only one ANBU will remain by your side. You're free to explore, relax, and enjoy yourself. But we won't be around."
Menma looked down, hugging Snow tighter.
"But... I wanted to be with you. With Brother too. I like being with both of you…"
Yoruusagi's heart softened. She cupped his chin and turned his face toward hers, her voice quiet but filled with warmth.
"Menma... you are our most precious person. You are our family. Kakashi and I love you more than anything. We may not be able to stay close for now, but that doesn't mean we aren't thinking of you every moment."
She pressed her forehead to his briefly.
"Once this is over, we'll take two days off—just the three of us. A small family celebration. We promise. Do you believe me?"
Menma's eyes welled slightly. But he nodded.
"Then I'll wait for that day."
He opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could, the crowd erupted into cheers and murmurs as the gates began to open.
Yoruusagi didn't hear what he said, but she saw it on his lips.
(Please take care of our brother too... And I love you, Teacher.)
She squeezed his hand, then rose, her eyes already scanning the distance as the Cloud shinobi began to enter the village.
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Bonus Skit: A's Forgotten Point of View
Location: Konoha, Training Ground 7
A, standing quietly in the far corner, surrounded by sealing tags, chakra suppressors, and a growing pile of empty water flasks.
A (Internal Monologue):
It's fine. I don't need thanks. Who needs recognition when you're the one stopping Menma from blowing up half the village every afternoon? Not me. I'm not bitter. Nope.
Look at them—Guy and Menma flexing like they just won the Chunin Exams. Yoruusagi giving him head pats. Snow gets more attention than me. Even the training scroll gets rolled up gently.
And me?
"Ah, that's A. He's always here. Probably rooted to the ground like a tree jutsu."
Maybe if I blow up in a dramatic puff of smoke they'll notice…
Guy (in the distance): "Wow, Menma! Your chakra almost blew past A's suppression field today! What a feat!"
A: …Never mind. I'll be over here. Watching. Suppressing. Silently suffering.
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