Deep within the Iburi Clan's underground cavern, a single beam of sunlight filtered down from a tree hollow above, slanting into the space and bringing a touch of life to the young saplings growing below.
Gotta, along with Yukimi and the remaining twenty-five members of the Iburi Clan, had finished packing their belongings and were preparing to relocate.
"This place is the resting ground of our clan," Gotta said quietly as he crouched down, gently brushing his fingers over a tender green sapling.
"Our bloodline limit is terribly unstable. None of us live past twenty-five years old—we simply dissipate into smoke. No body is ever left behind. So every time a clan member passes, we plant a tree here in their memory."
Standing behind him, Menma silently surveyed the scene. The underground chamber had already grown into a small, lush forest.
Looking at the newly planted trees, Yukimi finally began to accept the painful truth—that Tenzo and the other children were truly gone.
After paying their respects to the fallen, Gotta led the clan deeper into the tunnels to begin their migration.
"This passage connects to another underground cavern," Gotta explained as they walked. "It's a secondary base our clan has spent years digging out as a contingency."
Based on the terrain, Menma guessed they were heading deeper into the mountain's interior.
"I'll arrange for food, medicine, and supplies to be delivered to you," Menma said after some thought. "Our organization's main base is still under construction. Once it's complete, you can relocate there."
"Everything shall be as you command, my lord!" Gotta replied respectfully.
——————
Inside Menma's private residence in Konoha, a special Flying Thunder God kunai hung inverted in the underground storage room.
Whoosh—
Menma appeared out of thin air, dispelled his Transformation Jutsu, and reverted to his true child form.
Back in the "Limited Tsukuyomi World," the very first S-rank technique he had mastered was the Flying Thunder God Jutsu, learned directly from Minato Namikaze.
Thanks to his Uzumaki lineage and enormous chakra reserves, Menma could perform long-distance teleportation with ease.
"Territory… I need territory…" he muttered while climbing the stairs out of the basement, deep in thought.
In the Limited Tsukuyomi World, he had relied solely on his own overwhelming power, carving out legends such as fighting eighty thousand ninja alone. He had never once considered building an organization or governing land.
After all, that world had been false. There was no Obito, no Black Zetsu, no Kaguya, and no looming threat from the stars.
Every moment there, he had felt the world itself rejecting him.
But in this world, although he still felt a lingering sense of unreality, his body was no longer being rejected.
He had already recruited Kakuzu and Gato, and now the Iburi Clan as well. The foundation of his organization was beginning to take shape. It was time to think seriously about establishing a sphere of influence.
Unlike the Limited Tsukuyomi World, this reality held real dangers: the Akatsuki, Obito, Black Zetsu, Madara's hidden plans, Kaguya sealed on the moon, and the Otsutsuki clan lurking beyond the stars.
To face all that, he needed a powerful organization—one capable of unifying the ninja world and harnessing its resources.
And as someone from a past life steeped in Chinese culture, the concept of "great unification" had long taken root in Menma's mind.
"Welcome home, young master," the two caretakers, Kinna and Yuzuka, greeted him in the courtyard while hanging laundry and sweeping fallen leaves.
"No need to prepare dinner tonight," Menma said as he headed straight toward his study.
"Yes, young master," the women replied with small bows.
They were used to Menma occasionally eating out in the village, so this request didn't surprise them. It simply meant they could return home to their families earlier.
Inside the study, Menma spread a large map of the ninja world across his desk and began to examine it carefully.
'The eastern countries won't work. Too small, too poor, squeezed between the Land of Fire, Lightning, and Water. Developing there would inevitably lead to early conflict with the major nations.'
'The north is the Land of Iron—freezing cold and harsh terrain.'
'Central regions have many small nations, but they're wedged between Fire, Wind, and Earth. The Land of Rain is also there, and the Akatsuki operate in that chaos. Far too unstable.'
'Then… only the west remains.'
His gaze finally settled on the western portion of the continent.
'The Land of Demons, Land of Bears, Land of Ghosts, Land of Snow, Land of Swamps… Together, their territory rivals that of the Land of Lightning or Water. The Land of Demons has the Moryo entity, the Land of Bears has Hoshigakure, the Land of Snow has advanced industry, and the Land of Ghosts and Swamps possess abundant agriculture. If unified, their strengths could complement each other.'
These were all mid-sized countries—scattered, but full of potential.
Smaller island states in between could be ignored or absorbed later.
Just as Menma was contemplating how to issue orders to Gato, a tiny hand suddenly slapped down onto the map.
"Hey hey, Menma! Let's go eat something tasty!"
The palm-sized little Nine-Tails sprawled over the map like a plush toy, eyes sparkling with anticipation, nine fluffy tails wagging happily.
"You're impossible," Menma sighed affectionately. "Fine. Let's go to Ichiraku Ramen."
"Yay!" the little fox cheered, hopping onto Menma's shoulder.
Menma rolled up the map and wrapped a scarf around his neck so the tiny Nine-Tails could hide inside and observe the world.
——————
"Is that him?!"
"Yeah, that's the one…"
"So disgusting… why does the village keep a monster like that?"
"He's the one who killed the Fourth Hokage…"
"Shh, keep your voice down…"
Three-year-old Naruto walked alone through the streets, surrounded by whispers that cut into him like daggers.
Every glare was filled with hatred. Every murmur dripped with malice.
Naruto didn't understand why everyone despised him. As far back as he could remember, he had lived in isolation and rejection.
No one would play with him. No one would speak to him. Shopkeepers refused to sell him food.
Caretakers assigned to him had been replaced repeatedly due to their disgust toward him—until finally, at only three years old, Naruto had been left to live alone.
Overwhelmed by the hostile stares, Naruto began to run, trying to escape the cruel world around him.
Thud!
Not paying attention, he crashed straight into someone.
Falling onto his backside, Naruto looked up to see a boy about his age casually eating dango.
"Hey, kid," Menma said, chewing thoughtfully. "Didn't your mom teach you to say sorry when you bump into someone?"
"...S-sorry," Naruto stammered.
"I… don't have a mom."
"Huh. What a coincidence. Neither do I," Menma replied offhandedly—a dark joke delivered with perfect casualness.
Naruto stared at him blankly, feeling an inexplicable sense of closeness.
"Since you apologized, treat me to ramen," Menma said, pointing at the Ichiraku shop nearby.
Naruto's eyes went wide.
"...Huh?"
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