The afternoon sun sprawled lazily across the grass. Outside the Konoha Orphanage, children were chasing each other and laughing under the watchful eyes of the caretakers.
Though Yakushi Kabuto had departed only two days prior, children are resilient by nature; their lively spirits had already returned, and the sounds of joy once again echoed through the grounds.
Nonō Yakushi leaned against her office window, watching the children play. A soft, genuine smile touched her lips. She wished, more than anything, that this moment could last forever.
"Matron, are you truly leaving?" A senior caretaker approached from behind, twisting the edge of her apron in anxiety. She had been there that night when Danzo came knocking.
"Yunai, I'm leaving the children in your capable hands." Nonō turned, offering a practiced, reassuring smile.
Yunai sighed deeply. "We worked so hard to make this place what it is today."
Much of the orphanage's funding came from Nonō's personal efforts—her own mission pay, and the rewards earned from taking Urushi and Kabuto to the front lines to provide medical aid. As shinobi, they knew few other ways to generate wealth beyond the life-and-death trade of missions.
Nonō patted Yunai's hand gently. "Don't worry. It will only be two or three years, and then I'll be back. Besides, I'll find a way to bring Kabuto home." She still couldn't stop thinking about that brilliant, quiet boy.
Once Yunai left, Nonō returned to the window. The sunlight hit her face, as warm as her smile.
Suddenly, her gaze shifted to a large tree in the distance. A solitary child sat leaning against the trunk, cradling something in his hands.
"Menma?" Nonō felt a deep connection to this particular child. As her departure loomed, a faint, nagging sense of unease settled in her chest regarding him.
She vaulted over the windowsill and walked toward the boy.
Under the shadow of the tree, Menma's lonely figure seemed completely disconnected from the laughing children nearby.
"Menma, come play with the others!" a caretaker called out, hands on her hips.
"I don't want to," Menma replied flatly, his attention never wavering from the object in his hands.
The caretaker sighed. She had tried multiple times to involve him, but the boy was immovable. Eventually, she gave up, deciding it was fine as long as he stayed within her sight.
Nonō reached Menma and finally saw what he was holding. It was a small, dark-red fox figurine, but its head was wrapped in cloth, topped with a tiny fox mask.
"You like dolls, Menma? Does it have a name?" Nonō didn't ask where it came from; the orphanage often received donations of broken toys that the staff would repair.
"Yes." Menma held the little fox up for his foster mother to see.
"Nine Masked Fox: Gyoku," he said seriously.
Nonō blinked at the strange toy. Its paws and tail-tip were black, its head shrouded, and the white mask bore the kanji for 'Jewel' (Gyoku). She assumed it was a patchwork creation made by one of the caretakers from two different broken toys, so she didn't bother sensing it with chakra.
"Hey," Nonō knelt down, her voice tender. "Menma, do you have a dream?"
In this moment of parting, she realized she knew the least about Menma, her youngest ward. She had never heard him speak of the future.
"A dream?" Menma pulled the fox back, looking down in thought.
Once, his only dream was to return to the "real" world. To achieve that, he had been willing to ignite the Fourth Shinobi World War, inflicting enough trauma on the Limited Tsukuyomi to force the world to reject him.
Now he was back, yet he had become an anomaly—a person who didn't exist in the original history. If there was any pressure on him now, it came from the crushing weight of the heavens above.
With the Dark Nine-Tails inside him and the successful development of Nine Masked Fox: Gyoku, he now possessed a summon on par with an elite Jōnin. Ordinary Kage-level shinobi were no longer his match. Only the likes of Madara Uchiha, Nagato in his prime, or Itachi Uchiha still posed a threat.
And then, there was Kaguya Otsutsuki, sealed within the Moon.
And the rest of the Otsutsuki clan, who would descend in twenty years.
Menma looked up at Nonō, his small face grave. "I want a world of peace, without war."
Only without war could the power of the shinobi world be unified for true advancement. The conflicts on the ground no longer interested him; the enemies he had to face would come from beyond the sky.
"A world without war..." Nonō whispered.
She used to think Kabuto was the most precocious of the children. Now, she realized it was Menma.
——————
Late Night
Nonō Yakushi packed her few belongings and said her goodbyes to the women she had worked with for years. They were kind-hearted souls, some war orphans themselves, others village volunteers. All of them held the Matron in the highest esteem.
Under their watchful eyes, Nonō slipped out of the side gate. As she passed the dormitory, she paused to look through the window at the sleeping children one last time. Then, she vanished into the night.
She didn't know when, or if, she would ever return.
Nonō failed to notice a figure floating high above the orphanage. Menma, wearing his white three-eyed fox mask, hovered against the starlit sky, silently watching her leave.
Beside him floated a feminine summon in long, flowing robes and a fox mask. She cradled the Little Nine-Tails in her arms, her silk ribbons rippling in the night wind like waves.
This was Menma's latest creation using the Dark Nine-Tails' chakra: Nine Masked Beast: Tennyo.
She possessed the power of flight and used her ribbons as lethal weapons. Her base form was the Nine Masked Fox: Gyoku.
The Nine Masked Beasts (Kyuumenyuu) was Menma's signature technique, a series of summons that could only be forged with Nine-Tails chakra. They were categorized by the codes: Sei, Haku, Shu, Gen, Ku, Nan, Hoku, San, Gyoku.
They corresponded to: Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, Golden Snake, Sage of the South, Sage of the North, Shinigami, and Tennyo.
The naming convention mirrored the organization of the Akatsuki. Each beast possessed unique abilities, with individual combat power rivaling an elite Jōnin. When fighting as a unit, they were capable of overwhelming a Kage-level opponent.
"It's time for me to move, as well," Menma murmured, his voice dissolving into the wind.
He watched until Nonō was a mere speck in the distance. Then, he turned and flew toward the towering gates of Konoha.