Author's Note:

So, I took the admission test and yeah, I passed... but man, it wasn't enough. There were a ton of people who absolutely crushed it—scored way higher than me.

Guess that means no stethoscope hanging around my neck, no white coat dreams coming true. Not gonna lie, I'm not exactly sad… more like stuck in this heavy, depressing haze, y'know? Maybe that's why my recent updates have been kinda… meh? Feels like I'm running on empty.

But hey, life doesn't stop, right? Gotta figure out a new path. I'm a dreamer, after all—I'm built to keep moving forward, no matter how many times I stumble.

Anyway, drop your thoughts in the review section if you feel like it. Seriously, your words mean the world to me. They keep me going, writing faster, better, and with more heart.

Catch you next time!

The Sage Throughout The Years

The swordsman leaned his massive, serrated blade on his shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at Itachi. "Tell me, Itachi, have you ever heard of someone named Maito Dai?"

Itachi tilted his head, his crimson Sharingan faintly spinning. "Maito Dai? No. I know of a Maito Gai, though."

The swordsman gave a low chuckle. "Ah, so the son has grown. I've met him once or twice."

"You met Gai?" Itachi asked, his tone carrying a hint of interest.

"Not Gai," the swordsman corrected, his voice gruff but nostalgic. "It was during the Third Great Shinobi War. My comrades and I—The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist—ambushed a group of Genin. Gai was among them, just a kid then, and we thought it'd be an easy job. But then… he came."

"Who?"

"Maito Dai," the swordsman said, his voice dropping slightly as if speaking the name evoked a long-buried respect. "That man, using nothing but pure taijutsu, overwhelmed us. He opened all Eight Gates and tore through us like a storm. Four of the seven fell that day."

Itachi's usually stoic expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "He killed four of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist with just taijutsu?"

The swordsman nodded solemnly. "I have never encountered anyone like him. The power he unleashed was terrifying, even in death. It's a shame his sacrifice was barely remembered outside those who survived it. That man has my respect."

He shifted his gaze to Itachi. "What about you, Itachi? Who do you respect the most?"

Itachi's crimson eyes closed briefly, as though searching within himself for the answer. When they reopened, his voice was calm but firm. "The one I respect the most is Naruto Uzumaki."

The swordsman smirked, the name not unfamiliar. "The Crystal Sage, huh?" He leaned slightly against his massive blade. "You know, after the war, my team and I were sent on a mission to retrieve a scroll. We got what we came for, but then we received intel that the Leaf was sending backup to reclaim it."

Itachi listened silently, sensing there was more to the story.

"It was one man," the swordsman continued. "A kid, by the reports. Just one shinobi. But we knew his reputation." He laughed dryly. "We didn't even fight him. We left the scroll behind and retreated. None of us wanted to face him, not after the things we'd heard."

"And your village sentenced you for it?" Itachi guessed.

"Exactly," the swordsman said bitterly. "Cowardice, they called it. They executed the rest of my team for surrendering the scroll without a fight. I ran to avoid their judgment. I wasn't about to die for a mission I knew was doomed."

Itachi nodded subtly, understanding the logic, though he didn't condone abandoning comrades.

A brief silence settled between them, broken only by the distant sound of wind rustling through the trees.

"They say he's dead," the swordsman finally said, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. "Is it true?"

"I don't believe it," Itachi replied without hesitation, his tone resolute. "There is no shinobi who can kill him."

The swordsman chuckled, a rare glint of admiration in his eyes. "Ho? You're probably right. If someone did, I'd say they must've been a god. Even then, I'd bet on the Sage to win."

Itachi gave a faint nod, his thoughts drifting. The legend of Naruto Uzumaki persisted like a haunting echo, one neither ally nor enemy could shake.

Ô~Ô

Menma Uzumaki gritted his teeth as Guren's crystalline creations glimmered under the moonlight, their jagged edges reflecting his frustration. Her Crystal Release was flawless, a testament to her training under Orochimaru's twisted tutelage.

"Tch," Menma spat, dodging a spear of crystal that shot toward him with lethal precision. "Damn Orochimaru and his habit of creating dangerous ninjas!"

Guren smirked, her confidence unshaken as she flicked her hand, summoning another wave of crystal shards that jutted up from the ground like a glittering forest of death. "Dangerous? You flatter me, Uzumaki. But don't mistake me for something more than what I am—a pale imitation."

Menma narrowed his eyes. "What are you rambling about now?"

She tilted her head, her smirk widening. "This Crystal Release of mine? It's nothing but a poor replica. A shadow of the true master."

Menma stiffened, his knuckles whitening around a kunai. He already knew where this was going.

Guren's gaze sharpened, her voice cutting through the din of battle. "Had it been him—the Crystal Sage—you wouldn't even be standing here, Menma. The Sanbi? Taken before you'd have even noticed. You wouldn't have had the chance to breathe."

Grr—! Menma clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling to the surface as Shizune suddenly stepped between them, her voice calm but firm. "She's right, Menma. If it had been Naruto, there wouldn't be a fight. Only a one-sided battle."

"Enough!" Menma barked, his hands flying through seals as he conjured a dozen shadow clones in a puff of smoke. "Stop talking about a dead man and fight!"

Guren's smirk never faltered. She raised her arms, the air around her crackling with energy as crystalline dragons began to take form, their translucent bodies gleaming with menace.

"Crystal Release: Twin Dragons!"

Two massive crystalline dragons erupted from the ground, their shimmering forms glinting menacingly in the sunlight. They twisted and writhed as if alive, their crystalline scales refracting light into a dazzling yet blinding display.

Menma Uzumaki barely had time to react. His clones surged forward, kunai and Rasengans ready, but the dragons were fast—far faster than he expected. The first dragon swooped down, obliterating half the clones with a single swipe of its jagged tail. The second tore through the rest, scattering shards of shattered clones across the battlefield.

"You talk big, but your skills are disappointing," Guren taunted, her tone dripping with mockery. "Even with your vast chakra reserves, you can't compare to the Crystal Sage."

Menma gritted his teeth, his fists trembling in frustration. "Stop bringing him up! Naruto's dead! He's not here, and he's not coming back!"

Shizune stepped in, her hands raised as if to de-escalate the brewing tension. "Menma, listen—"

"Stay out of this!" Menma snapped, his anger spilling over. He conjured another group of shadow clones, each one charging forward with renewed determination. "If you keep talking about Naruto, I'll make sure you won't have the breath to say his name again!"

Guren's smirk widened as she summoned more crystalline structures, forming walls and spikes to intercept the incoming clones. "You're so sensitive, Menma. Does the mere mention of his name cut that deep?" Her tone turned almost wistful. "It's true, though. If it had been Naruto here, this wouldn't even be a fight. He'd have taken the Sanbi and crushed me before I could even react."

"Shut up!" Menma roared, charging forward himself this time. He didn't care about tactics anymore—he just wanted to wipe that smug grin off her face.

Guren sidestepped his attack with infuriating ease, her movements fluid and precise. "Tch. So predictable," she muttered, countering with a swift kick that sent Menma skidding back. She followed it up with a barrage of crystalline spikes, forcing him to dodge and weave as they rained down around him.

Shizune watched from the sidelines, her face a mixture of concern and resignation. "Menma, she's right," she said softly, though her words carried a weight that made Menma's stomach churn. "If Naruto were here, there wouldn't be a fight. You know that."

The words hit harder than any attack Guren could throw at him. Menma clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, he knew they were right. Naruto was on a completely different level—always had been. But hearing it, again and again, was like pouring salt into an open wound.

"Crystal Release: Shatterstorm!" Guren's voice rang out, and the air was suddenly filled with razor-sharp shards of crystal. They whirled around her like a deadly tornado, ready to slice through anything—or anyone—in their path.

Menma's clones leapt into action, forming a barrier to shield him, but they were obliterated almost instantly. He barely managed to escape the storm's radius, his breathing ragged as he glared at Guren.

"You think you're so much better than me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "But I'll show you. I don't need Naruto, and I don't need anyone else. I'll take you down on my own!"

Guren laughed, a cold, mocking sound that sent shivers down Menma's spine. "Oh, Menma. You're so desperate to prove yourself. It's almost sad. But let me tell you something—living in the shadow of greatness isn't a burden. It's a reminder of how far you still have to climb."

Menma's eyes blazed with fury, his chakra flaring wildly around him. "Enough! Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Dozens of clones appeared in an instant, each one radiating determination. Together, they charged at Guren, their combined strength forming a tidal wave of relentless attacks.

Guren's smirk faltered ever so slightly as she prepared to defend herself. "Let's see what you've got, then," she muttered, her hands forming seals once more.

The battlefield erupted into chaos, the clash of chakra and crystal echoing across the landscape. But even as Menma fought with everything he had, a part of him couldn't shake the nagging thought that haunted him: Naruto would've ended this already.

Ô~Õ

Kabuto stepped into the dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the stench of decay and power. Before him, standing with his arms crossed, was Tobi—the enigmatic masked man whose aura seemed to suck the light out of the room. Kabuto's serpentine smile widened as he observed Tobi's guarded stance. He was here to showcase the pinnacle of his achievements, the culmination of years of research and experimentation.

"Ah, Tobi," Kabuto said smoothly, his voice dripping with confidence. "You'll be pleased to know that I've perfected the Reanimation Jutsu."

Tobi tilted his head slightly, his mask revealing nothing of his expression. "Perfected, you say?" he muttered, his voice calm but tinged with scepticism.

Kabuto chuckled, a cold, slithering sound that echoed ominously. "Indeed. I've gone beyond Orochimaru's understanding of the technique. Allow me to show you."

With a series of rapid hand seals, Kabuto slammed his hands onto the ground. "Summoning: Reanimation!" he declared, his voice echoing with authority.

The floor beneath them trembled as coffins began to rise, their lids creaking open to reveal figures bathed in an eerie glow. Tobi's lone visible eye widened as he scanned the reanimated shinobi.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Kabuto said, his tone smug. "I've gathered the strongest shinobi history has ever known. Behold: Madara Uchiha, the original wielder of your ambitions. Hanzo of the Salamander, the man who once humbled the Three Legendary Sannin. The Kage from various villages. And even the Jinchūriki of old."

Tobi stepped closer, his eye scrutinising the collection. The reanimated shinobi stood silently, their faces expressionless but their power palpable.

"These are… formidable," Tobi admitted reluctantly.

Kabuto smirked, basking in the masked man's acknowledgment. "And yet," he continued, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, "there was one I could not bring back."

Tobi's gaze snapped to Kabuto, the air growing colder. "What do you mean?"

Kabuto sighed theatrically, feigning disappointment. "The Fifth Hokage, Naruto Uzumaki. I tried to summon him, but something… prevented it."

At this, Tobi's demeanor shifted entirely. His calm composure gave way to visible anger as he stepped toward Kabuto, his voice cutting like a blade. "You dared to try reanimating Naruto Uzumaki?"

Kabuto blinked, taken aback by the intensity of Tobi's reaction. "Why so upset? He's merely another shinobi, albeit a powerful one. His addition would have solidified our victory."

Tobi's voice rose, his fury unmistakable. "Merely another shinobi? You have no idea what you're talking about."

Kabuto raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? Do enlighten me, then. What makes him so special that even you would react this way?"

Tobi took a step back, his voice lowering but losing none of its venom. "Naruto Uzumaki is not just a strong shinobi. He is a walking calamity. If he were here, there wouldn't be this war in the first place."

Kabuto's smirk faltered for the first time. "Ho? Is that so?"

Tobi's eye narrowed, his tone dark and foreboding. "Don't ever think for a second that you can bind him with your jutsu. I've seen many monsters in my lifetime. Beasts. Jinchūriki. Gods. But he…" Tobi paused, his voice heavy with finality. "He is the apex predator. The kind of power he wielded wasn't meant for this world."

Kabuto's intrigue deepened, his serpent-like eyes glinting. "Interesting. I knew he was strong, but your reaction suggests he's something else entirely."

Tobi turned away, his voice colder than ever. "Leave Naruto Uzumaki's name out of your experiments, Kabuto. For your own sake."

For the first time, Kabuto felt a sliver of unease. The weight of Tobi's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder that some forces were better left undisturbed.

Ô~Ô

In the vast expanse of Menma Uzumaki's mindscape, a soft golden glow illuminated the darkness. Kushina Uzumaki, clad in her flowing red hair and maternal warmth, stood with her hands on her hips, staring at her son with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"So, Menma," she began, her voice gentle but firm, "how's your brother? How's Naruto?"

Menma froze at the question, his usual confidence faltering. He turned away, refusing to meet her eyes. "Naruto's... gone."

"Gone?" Kushina's voice carried an edge of disbelief, her brow furrowing.

"Yeah. He disappeared years ago," Menma muttered, his tone clipped. "Nobody found him. And... he hated me. He didn't even tell me who my parents were."

Kushina's expression softened, but her lips pressed into a thin line as she processed her son's words. "Menma, that doesn't sound like Naruto. He would never do something like that unless he had a very good reason."

Menma scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "Oh, he had plenty of reasons to hate me, Mom. I'm just the screw-up younger brother, the guy who couldn't do anything right. Why would he tell me anything? He probably didn't think I was worth it."

Kushina's gaze pierced through him, a mix of sadness and frustration shining in her eyes. "Menma Uzumaki, stop talking like that. Naruto loved you. I don't know why he kept things from you, but I'm certain it wasn't because he hated you."

Menma clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he fought back the flood of emotions. "You don't understand," he muttered.

"I understand more than you think," Kushina replied softly, stepping closer. "But holding onto this resentment won't help you, Menma. If Naruto is really gone, wouldn't he want you to live without regrets? Without hate?"

Menma didn't respond, his silence speaking volumes.

Ô~Ô

The sound of coffins creaking open echoed through the chamber as Orochimaru slammed his hands onto the ground, a twisted grin spreading across his face. Slowly, four figures emerged, their expressions as lifeless as their bodies had once been. Hashirama Senju, Tobirama Senju, Minato Namikaze, and Hiruzen Sarutobi stood before the gathered group, their eyes blank until their consciousness was restored.

"What... What is this?" Hashirama muttered, his voice filled with confusion as he took in his surroundings. He glanced at Orochimaru, his features hardening. "So, you've stooped to this level, haven't you?"

Orochimaru chuckled, his voice smooth and mocking. "Oh, Hashirama-sama, always so judgmental. I merely brought you back to witness the fruits of your legacy."

Tobirama's sharp gaze flicked to Sasuke Uchiha, his expression tightening. "An Uchiha? And not just any Uchiha… Why are we here, Orochimaru?"

Before Orochimaru could respond, Sasuke stepped forward, his Sharingan blazing with controlled fury. "I have questions. You, Tobirama Senju—why did you create policies that led to the persecution of my clan?" His voice was steady, but the underlying anger was palpable.

Tobirama frowned. "I did what was necessary to protect the village. The Uchiha clan's emotional volatility posed a significant threat—"

"And yet, you're blind to your own hypocrisy," Sasuke snapped. "You created the very conditions that pushed them toward rebellion. And you, Hiruzen Sarutobi," Sasuke turned to the Third Hokage, his eyes narrowing. "Why did you make Itachi slaughter the clan? What gave you the right to destroy his life for the sake of your so-called peace?"

Hiruzen sighed heavily, the weight of his actions clear in his weary expression. "The Uchiha were planning a coup. They intended to release the Nine-Tails to overthrow the village. Itachi's actions were necessary to prevent a full-scale civil war."

Sasuke's fists clenched. "And yet you sacrificed a boy's soul for your cowardice."

Minato, who had been silently observing the exchange, suddenly frowned, a growing sense of unease evident on his face. "Wait," he interrupted. "You're telling me Naruto isn't Hokage? What happened to him? Where is he?"

Sasuke's gaze turned colder. "Naruto Uzumaki, the Fifth Hokage, died eight years ago."

The room fell silent.

Minato's breath hitched. "What?!"

All eyes turned to Hiruzen. The former Third Hokage hesitated, avoiding Minato's piercing gaze.

Minato stepped forward, his voice shaking with a mix of confusion and fury. "What happened, Hiruzen? Why is my son dead?!"

Hiruzen's shoulders sagged as he finally met Minato's anguished stare. "I… I killed him."

The words hung in the air like a death knell.

"You what?!" Minato roared, his grief exploding into raw anger as he grabbed Hiruzen by the collar. "Why?! Why would you do such a thing?!"

Hiruzen didn't struggle, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. "Naruto was mentally unstable. He became a danger to the village… or so I thought."

"'Or so you thought'?!" Minato's grip tightened. His blue eyes, usually so warm, burned with unrestrained fury.

Orochimaru's laughter cut through the tension like a blade. "Ah, Sarutobi-sensei, always so quick to assume," he drawled. "Shall I enlighten you all?"

"What are you talking about?" Tobirama demanded, his sharp tone cutting through Orochimaru's mockery.

The snake-like man gestured theatrically. "You see, dear Sasuke, dear Minato, dear Hokage of old… the entire village council, including Hiruzen here, was under a genjutsu. A very sophisticated one, cast by none other than the masked man—'Tobi.'"

Minato froze. "Genjutsu? You mean…"

Orochimaru nodded, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Yes. Naruto Uzumaki wasn't mentally unstable. In fact, he had devised the perfect plan to prevent the Uchiha coup without bloodshed. But instead of listening to him, your council acted on the lies planted by Tobi's illusion."

Hiruzen staggered back, his face pale. "No… That can't be… I… We…"

"Congratulations, sensei," Orochimaru sneered. "You successfully sentenced' an innocent man while failing to kill me."

The chamber was thick with tension. Hashirama and Tobirama looked at Hiruzen with a mixture of disappointment and disgust.

"I never thought you'd sink so low, Hiruzen," Tobirama said coldly. "You were supposed to uphold the Will of Fire, not extinguish it."

Hashirama shook his head, his warm demeanor now overshadowed by sadness. "You let fear dictate your actions. That's not the village I dreamed of."

Minato stood in silence, his hands trembling as they slowly released Hiruzen's collar. His face was a storm of emotions—grief, rage, guilt. "My son… My Naruto… you killed him because of a genjutsu?!" His voice broke, the weight of his loss crashing down on him.

Orochimaru chuckled, his enjoyment of the scene evident. "And to think, Hiruzen, you believed you were protecting the village. How ironic."

Minato clenched his fists, his voice trembling with restrained power. "I doubt he's truly dead."

Everyone turned to him, their expressions a mix of confusion and disbelief.

Minato raised his head, his gaze sharp and determined. "I doubt it. Naruto isn't just any shinobi. He's… he's the Honored One. If he's truly gone, then we'd already know. The world itself wouldn't be the same without him."

Hashirama tilted his head, intrigued. "The Honored One?"

Minato nodded, his eyes blazing with a father's conviction. "Naruto is more than just a shinobi. He's a force of nature, a protector unlike any other. If he's truly out there… he'll return. And when he does, Tobi and everyone else responsible for this will pay."

Silence filled the chamber once more, broken only by Orochimaru's faint, mocking laughter. But even he couldn't entirely dismiss the weight of Minato's words.

Ô~Ô

Madara's laughter echoed as the Jubi roared beneath him, the earth quaking from its sheer presence. He looked at Obito with a gleam in his eye that suggested both amusement and challenge.

"That brat, Naruto Uzumaki, where is he?"

Obito remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the battlefield below. "He is gone. I killed him years ago."

Madara scoffed, shaking his head. "Don't make me laugh, Obito. You, kill him? You must be joking."

Obito glared at him but said nothing.

Madara's voice turned sharp, cutting through the chaos. "What? Did you see his body? Did you confirm his death?"

Obito's lips pressed into a thin line, his silence betraying the truth.

Madara's smirk widened. "I thought so. That boy was said to surpass even Hashirama. A shame, truly. I would have relished the chance to test my strength against his."

"He is long gone," Obito retorted, his tone defensive. "He would've been an obstacle. I ensured that he could never interfere."

Madara eyed him with disdain. "You ensured nothing, boy. If you truly killed Naruto Uzumaki, you would have no need to keep reminding yourself of it."

Ô~Ô

Kaguya stood in the ruined battlefield, her pale eyes scanning the horizon. Her form radiated an ancient, godly presence, her white robes flowing like water as she surveyed the chaos of the war below.

"Mother, what is it?" Black Zetsu's voice slithered from within her sleeve, curious about her sudden stillness.

Kaguya's eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable. "This near bottomless chakra… potent and mesmerizing. Who is this?"

Zetsu hesitated. "I cannot sense this person as you can. But there's no one that powerful in this era—at least, no one I know of."

Kaguya's gaze sharpened as she focused on the golden glow emanating far off in the distance, her tone laced with intrigue. "This chakra… It is like his."

"His?" Zetsu echoed, puzzled.

"Him," Kaguya stated, her voice calm yet filled with purpose.

Zetsu's voice wavered. "But he is—"

She silenced him with a flick of her sleeve. "I'll handle him after I deal with these children first."

With a simple wave of her hand, reality itself bent to her will. The dimension around her rippled, and suddenly Menma, Sasuke, Kakashi, and Sakura found themselves plummeting into another one of her strange dimensions, cut off from the battlefield.

Ô~Ô

On the battlefield, as the light of the reanimation jutsu flickered and began to fade, Minato Namikaze stood amidst the chaos. His form shimmered, golden like sunlight breaking through a storm. Hagoromo Otsutsuki, the Sage of Six Paths, had cancelled the reanimation jutsu, and Minato was moments away from returning to the pure world.

Menma stood nearby, watching his father with a conflicted expression. He wasn't sure if he felt relief, sadness, or anger.

"Menma," Minato said, his voice calm yet tinged with urgency, "I don't have much time left, so listen carefully."

Menma straightened, his gaze locking with his father's.

"If you see Naruto," Minato continued, a soft smile gracing his lips, "tell him not to live in grief. Tell him to move on."

Menma blinked, confusion etched across his face. "Isn't Aniki... dead?"

Minato chuckled lightly, his form beginning to dissolve into particles of light. "You'll find the answer when the time is right. See you, son."

And with that, Minato was gone, leaving Menma standing alone amidst the chaos of the battlefield, his mind racing with unanswered questions and the faintest glimmer of hope.

Ô~Ô

High above the moonlit surface of the Otsutsuki ruins, Toneri stood with a calm yet mocking smile. His Tenseigan eyes glimmered as he faced Menma Uzumaki, who radiated determination despite his fatigue.

"You may be strong, Menma Uzumaki," Toneri began, his voice echoing through the vast chamber, "but you are not him."

Menma frowned, gripping his chakra blade tighter. "What are you talking about? I am the heir of the Uzumaki Clan, the one who will protect this world!"

Toneri shook his head with a disappointed sigh. "I've seen him fly where you only dream of walking. He was the storm, the unrelenting force that tore through the heavens. You? You are merely a shadow."

Menma's eyes narrowed, but before he could retort, Toneri raised his hand. His energy surged, forming a dazzling orb of pure chakra that illuminated the chamber like a second sun.

"Thus, die!"

Ô~Ô

Kurama sighed heavily, his massive form shifting inside the mental plane as he glanced at Menma. The twenty-seven-year-old grinned cheekily, arms crossed as he leaned back, clearly revelling in his rare victory over the Nine-Tails.

"Fine, it's your win," Kurama muttered, his voice carrying a begrudging tone.

Menma's grin widened. "Tell me about the times you were scared like a kitten, dattebayo!"

Kurama's ears twitched, and his eyes glared down at the smug human in annoyance. "You're pushing it, brat."

"Aw, come on!" Menma teased, waving his hand dismissively. "You're this big bad fox, right? What's the harm in sharing a few stories?"

Kurama growled, but Menma's grin remained. After a long pause, the beast exhaled a deep breath, a low rumble of displeasure accompanying it.

"Fine," Kurama began, his voice gruff but laced with a tinge of reluctance. "The first time I truly felt fear... was with my father, Hagoromo Otsutsuki."

Menma's brows lifted in surprise. "The Sage of Six Paths? Seriously?"

Kurama nodded, his eyes distant as if recalling a memory buried deep within. "Yes. I was still young, still figuring out my strength. One day, I... well, let's just say I let my temper get the better of me and nearly killed a lion that wandered too close to me."

"A lion?" Menma chuckled. "That's it?"

Kurama's glare silenced him. "Hagoromo wasn't pleased. I'd never seen him so angry before. The look he gave me... I thought I'd die just from the weight of his disapproval. His presence alone was overwhelming."

Menma nodded slowly, the humour fading from his expression.

Kurama continued, his tone darker. "The second time was centuries later—when Madara Uchiha forced me into servitude. That man's Sharingan... It was more than just a tool of control. It was suffocating, a constant reminder that I wasn't free. I hated him."

"Madara..." Menma muttered, his grin now completely gone.

"And after Madara," Kurama added, his voice trembling slightly, "came Hashirama Senju. That man didn't control me with eyes but with sheer power. He toyed with me like I was some wild dog, easily overpowering me. And when his wife, Mito Uzumaki, sealed me inside her... it was terrifying. Three monsters, back-to-back."

Menma swallowed hard. "I never realised..."

Kurama glanced at him, his crimson eyes narrowing. "It doesn't end there, brat. The fourth time was your father, Minato Namikaze. When he summoned the Shinigami and tore half of me away, I thought I would cease to exist. The pain, the helplessness... It was like being split apart at my very core."

Menma stayed silent, the weight of Kurama's words settling over him.

"And the last time..." Kurama's voice grew softer, tinged with a mix of anger and respect. "It was when your brother, Naruto Uzumaki, fought me. That night, when he punched me with such raw power and hatred, I thought he might actually kill me. He sent me flying miles away, crashing into a mountain. The sheer unfiltered rage he had toward me was like staring into the abyss."

Menma blinked, stunned. "Naruto... hated you that much?"

Kurama nodded solemnly. "At the time, yes. I was the reason he lost everything—his parents, his childhood, his peace. He had every right to hate me, and he didn't hold back. For the first time in my existence, I was scared for myself..."

Menma's face softened, his usual playful demeanour replaced with quiet understanding. "You've been through a lot, Kurama."

Kurama huffed, his usual grumpiness returning. "Don't get sentimental on me, brat. You wanted stories, and I gave them to you. Now, leave me in peace."

Menma smirked slightly. "Alright, alright. But hey..." He glanced up at Kurama, his grin returning. "Thanks for sharing, furball."

Kurama growled lowly but didn't respond, his massive form turning away as if to hide the smallest trace of vulnerability.

TBC