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The Myth of Menma
0. Prologue

"From small beginnings, come great things."
—Otsutsuki Ashura, Asurvawedha

Ocean-blue eyes glazed over as streaks of fire and light illuminated the obsidian void overhead. Menma's thoughts were a brilliant mess as he went over the night's events. His fingers squeezed the symbol of the Leaf village, engraved in silver, that he held in his hands, as the blue bands into which it was sewn danced about his palm in the night breeze.

He didn't know if it was a coincidence, or if it was all part of some grand plan. He had graduated from the Academy on the same day that he was born. The very same day on which, annually, he had felt the hatred and loathing of the villagers stronger than ever before. They had not harmed him even though, somehow, he could sense that they were dangerous, that they meant him harm. Now, thanks to Mizuki, he knew they had not dared to lift a finger at him because of the Hokage's law.

Menma watched timidly, as the combat-ready, black-clad shinobi with the Bear mask tapped various joints on the white-haired traitor's body, immobilizing him with chakra suppression seals. Towards the side, a similarly attired ninja with a Cat mask tended to Iruka's wounds. The scarred Chuunin had taken a shuriken for him, literally, but Menma stared with a strange fascination as the large gash on Iruka's back sewed itself back together under Cat's glowing green palm.

The hair on his body tingled in the strange manner that it always did. Without even turning around, Menma knew who the shadow that now loomed over him, shielding him from the silvery moonlight, belonged to. A frown marred his features as he turned around and looked up, azure eyes meeting the senile brown ones.

"Grandfather," Menma rasped out.

The aged Hokage sighed, feeling the weight of his five-decade-long career forcing his shoulders down as he noticed the glazed, lifeless look in the otherwise intelligent and quick-witted boy's eyes. He reached to place a hand on the boy's head.

Despite his anger at the elder's betrayal, Menma did not swat his hand away like he wanted to. His eyes began to glisten as, despite himself, he leaned into the warm embrace that the grandfatherly figure pulled him into eventually. He wanted to say something, anything, so many different things. Ultimately, he was rather proud of how he summed everything up in a single word in a daring display of brevity.

"Why?"

Hiruzen sighed again.

"Not here," he signaled. "Come."

Menma felt his world spin before he found himself in front of the Hokage's familiar mahogany desk, the swirl of leaves around him gently falling onto the ground beside his feet as he saw his own reflection in the twinkling crystal ball on top of it.

Hiruzen could not help but wonder at the craftsmanship of nature as he stared at the ocean-eyed boy, a miniature of his father more than anything, even the length and shape of his hair, the only exceptions being the obsidian color of his hair in contrast to his father's brilliant blond, and the pallor of his skin contrasted against Minato's tan. No, the black hair and pale skin were a testimony to the boy's mother. He stood there clad in a black long-sleeved shirt and black pants underneath a jacket of matching black, an orange trimming on his jacket, with white arm guards on his forearms, and fingerless orange gloves and orange shinobi sandals.

Even as he mused, the Hokage did not dawdle. Placing his hat and cloak upon the hanger, the white-haired, wrinkled professor found himself sat upon his seat. He gestured for Menma to sit, and the boy numbly did so. Pulling out his pipe, Hiruzen took a smoke as he regarded his charge with a gentle gaze.

"Why?" the boy reiterated. "And I want the truth. No more secrets," Menma's glazed ocean eyes suddenly froze over, and it took all of Hiruzen's years to grant him the strength not to wince at the tundra that he found himself staring into. For the first time, Menma's eyes did not resemble Minato's, despite being essentially the same as his father's.

He felt an icy chill run down his spine.

"Menma…" the elder muttered, his tone gentle yet strong. He had ensured the privacy of their conversation, he was merely weighing how much to tell the boy. He felt his own nerves quell as, after a moment of deliberation, he found himself coming to the one decision that he was confident he would not end up regretting.

He knew Menma. He had been there for the boy through the years, at least as much as that damnable hat allowed him to be. He had already breached the boy's trust once, and if the boy's frigid eyes were any indication, he knew it would be far better for Konoha, and his own conscience, in the long run to just trust the boy with the truth.

Or at least a considerable portion of it.

A somber, melancholy smile breaking across his visage, Hiruzen turned his face aside. Menma followed the elderly man's gaze, watching as the Hokage's gaze met the portrait of his predecessor, the fourth such portrait hanging on the western wall of the office.

"Why did the Yondaime… do this to me?" Menma found himself murmuring, more to himself than his companion.

"They married, you know," Hiruzen said, and the peculiar remark drew Menma's confused gaze back towards him. The elderly kage took a puff of smoke before continuing. "I remember the day. My wife, my elder son and I, were three of only five witnesses. It was a secret wedding because the Uchiha clan would never have allowed Mikoto to marry for love, especially not into a civilian family. Namikaze Arashi, Minato's father, was a cabbage merchant. Hardly suited to be the father-in-law to the Lady Uchiha."

Menma's eyes widened as he pieced the Hokage's words together swiftly in his mind. Namikaze Minato, the Yondaime Hokage, had married into Sasuke's clan? The same clan that had been massacred four years ago by Sasuke's older brother?

But what did that have to do with—

Hiruzen reached out and opened his drawer, before pulling out a frame and handing it to the spiky-haired raven. The boy reached out and took with a tremulous hand, seeing a picture of the tall, blonde Hokage with a raven-haired, obsidian-eyed, pale-skinned, and simply beautiful woman. The lady stood with a serene smile, a hand on her distended abdomen.

Menma stilled.

"Twelve years ago, moments after your birth…" the boy visibly winced at that, wondering at his own stupidity for not having put two and two together sooner, "… the Seven-Tailed Horned Beetle attacked our prosperous village. The attack was unprecedented, the destruction hitherto unseen. Being a tailed beast, a construct of chakra, it was impossible for my successor to slay the beast. The only solution was to seal it, into a sacrificial human. A child, one with undeveloped chakra coils. A Jinchuriki…"

"I-I-I… th-th-they…" Menma stammered.

"His child. The only child he could trust to carry the great burden he dared not place on the shoulders of anyone else…"

Menma's gaze met Hiruzen's again. The ice in his eyes was gone, the ocean was no longer frozen. It had thawed dramatically, the waves crashing, threatening to break the dam.

"Your lineage had to be concealed. No matter the legal status of your parents' marriage, the Uchiha would never have accepted you as one of their own. They would not have let you live, except on the condition that your eyes were taken from you so you could never manifest their kekkei genkai. As for Minato, the reputation he had carved for himself left you in considerable danger should it become known that you were the offspring of the Yellow Flash. So, you, having been given the name Namikaze Naruto upon your birth, were rechristened Sato Menma. An inconspicuous, civilian name. A clanless orphan no one would spare a second glance…"

The dam broke. Hiruzen got up from his seat, walked over to Menma from beside the desk, and pulled the twelve-year-old boy into a gentle hug. Despite wanting to punch the Hokage, the boy nevertheless returned the gesture, bleeding twelve years of trauma into the Hokage's robes.

His newly acquired Leaf headband now holding his spiky black locks away from his forehead, Menma ran, vaulted, climbed and leapt over the brick and straw rooftops of Konohagakure no Sato. Having always preferred parkour ever since he had discovered his innate skill at it for it helped him avoid the glances of the villagers, the exercise put the raven-haired boy in a fair mood. He instinctively stilled, finding himself at the edge of a building, realizing the next one was slightly too far from this one for him to simply leap over. Instead, he vaulted himself into the air before pulling an acrobatic quadruple somersault across the blue sky of the Hidden Leaf Village, twisting around about himself before landing on the wall of the last one, stuck to it with the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet.

Finally, he was at the Academy building. Menma quickly scaled up the wall on all fours, before finding himself on the roof. From there, it was a short sprint down two flights of stairs to the second floor classroom.

The background hustle uplifted his spirits even further, and he found a small smile gracing his face. At least he could trust the classroom to be lively, if nothing else. Even if it was mostly because of Sakura's and Ino's incessant fighting, and Shikamaru's snoring.

"Menma?! The heck're ya doin' here, this class is for Genin. Y'know, the kids that actually passed!" Kiba barked from the seat beside him as the raven found a place to sit. As always, Menma ignored Kiba, which earned a growl from the boy and a yip from Akamaru. The raven merely pointed at his forehead protector, no doubt becoming the object of quite a few curious and bewildered glances. Everyone had thought he had failed after all. In fact, he had failed, so the looks of his classmates made sense.

His eyes caught Sasuke's sitting in the far corner in the same row, by the window. The Uchiha sized him up before grunting and facing away. Menma's heart leapt as the realization that Sasuke was the closest thing he had to family still alive finally sunk in, though the thought that Sasuke's father would have had Menma blinded had he known about his existence, soured the idea somewhat.

The minute hair on his skin shifted again as he detected the familiar figure approach and Menma smiled.

"Settle down, everyone!" Iruka voiced calmly, placing the scrolls he had brought with him on the podium. Menma was glad to see he was doing well after last week's altercation with Mizuki. When the class did not respond as expected, Iruka's head suddenly grew twice as large and his voice boomed off the walls of the class.

"I SAID SETTLE DOWN!"

Iruka then began an admittedly well-rehearsed speech about Konohagakure's history and an introduction of the shinobi system and ninja ranks. Once he was done, he got to the part they had all been waiting for.

Team assignments.

"As Genin, you are all assigned into squads of three with a Jounin sensei. Konoha has birthed numerous legendary three-man squads, the most notable of them of course the Sannin. So, without further adieu… Team One will be…"

Iruka began listing off the teams one by one, and Menma slowly found himself wandering off, his focus once again the dark-haired brooder sitting on his left by the window. He couldn't help but wonder how Uchiha Sasuke and himself were related. Were they cousins, distant or near? All Uchiha had to be blood-related, after all, didn't they? That meant he was related to Sasuke somehow. Did his mother have any family that Sasuke would've known before the massacre? Why a massacre to begin with? What had prompted Uchiha Itachi to do something that horrific? Did Sasuke know anything about Itachi's intentions at all? Was there some ulterior motive?

Menma's thoughts were like a whirlpool, circular and bottomless.

"… Team Seven will be Uchiha Sasuke," the mention of the subject of his thoughts finally brought Menma's attention back to Iruka, "Haruno Sakura, and Yamanaka Sai. Your sensei will be Yamashiro Aoba."

"YATTA! I GOT ON SASUKE-KUN'S TEAM! BEHOLD THE POWER OF TRUE LOVE AND ROT IN YOUR OWN MISERY, INO-PIG!"

"W-What?! No! That's not true! That's impossible!"

Sai, on the other hand, looked up from his sketchpad and blinked.

"So, I ended up with Boobless and Butt-Plug. Well, I suppose it could've been worse—"

"SHANNARO!?"

"SETTLE DOWN, ALL OF YOU! AND SAI! KEEP THAT PROFANE MOUTH OF YOURS IN CHECK OR GET OUT OF MY CLASS!" Iruka screeched.

Iruka's Big Head no Jutsu momentarily came back into effect. Sai quietened after that, ignoring the silent murderous glare the twitching Sakura sent his way. Regardless, as the threat effectively sobered Sakura and Ino up, Iruka pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember where he was.

"Right," he continued. "Team Eight will be Aburame Shino, Hyuga Hinata, and Inuzuka Kiba. Your sensei will be Yuhi Kurenai."

Menma glanced aside, watching the new Team Eight react. Shino merely adjusted his glasses, while Hinata, sitting nervously beside her sister, began twiddling her thumbs rapidly, a telltale sign that she was nervous. Kiba on the other hand grinned widely, rubbing his nose with his thumb as Akamaru yipped excitedly.

"Team Nine is still in circulation from last year, so… Team Ten will be Akimichi Chouji, Yamanaka Ino, and Nara Shikamaru. Your sensei will be Sarutobi Asuma."

Menma blinked rapidly, quickly putting two and two together as he drowned out Ino's groans. The only three people left were—

"Last but not least, Team Eleven…"

Iruka continued as Menma's eyes quickly found the pompous pale-eyed brunette who was sitting next to her nervous fraternal twin, her eyes closed and her mien regal enough to put even Sasuke to shame. Menma's eyes quickly bounced from the Hyuga Twins, sitting towards his left, to his right, where he caught caramel-eyed gaze of the tomato-haired girl, who stared back at him with intrigue matching his own.

"… will be Sato Menma, Hyuga Hanabi, and Uzumaki Mitoko. Your sensei will be Nohara Rin."

Author's Note: Just a basic intro. Review if you want me to continue. Pretty please?