POV: Menma
"Shit."
That's the word. The only word for this moment.
I was sprawled on the ground like a starfish in its final moments, my arms and legs contorted in ways I was pretty sure violated human anatomy. My chest heaved like I was trying to power an entire village with sheer desperation. A few feet away, Toneri looked even worse—drenched in sweat, hair plastered to his face, wearing the same expression you'd expect from a man who just discovered the concept of regret.
Shisui had finally left, but not before dropping the motivational equivalent of a kunai to the chest: "Pain is just weakness leaving the body." Then my body was 95% weakness because my bones felt like jello .If I had an ounce of strength left, I would've chucked a rock at him. Or maybe a boulder.
"He's trying to kill us," Toneri wheezed, his voice cracking like dry wood. "This isn't training—this is slow, premeditated murder. We're victims, Menma. Victims."
I groaned in agreement, too exhausted to offer much else. The sky above us stretched endlessly, Earth visible in the distance. Birds—alien ones, of course—soared freely above, mocking us with their effortless grace.
"Shisui has a personal vendetta against my hamstrings," I muttered.
"Your hamstrings?!" Toneri barked, adjusting his blindfold. "He's waging war on my soul. Have you seen the way he smiles? That's not encouragement—that's sadism in its purest form."
I tried to laugh, but even that hurt. "Don't make me laugh. My ribs feel like origami."
"Good," he shot back. "If I'm dying, you're coming with me."
I turned my head to glare at him, though it probably looked more like I was trying to melt into the ground. "Dramatic much?"
"Says the guy who's been lying there for twenty minutes, contemplating the meaning of life."
We lapsed into silence—the kind of silence that settles when two people are too beaten down to even bicker properly. My fingers twitched as I summoned what little chakra I had left.
Toneri cracked an eye open. "What are you doing?"
"Helping."
"Helping who—HEY!"
I grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging him toward me like I was reeling in a very loud, very uncooperative fish.
"Menma, you maniac! Let go!" he shrieked, flailing like a cat in a bathtub.
"Hold still, you drama queen!" I barked, though my grip was slipping thanks to all the sweat. "Do you want me to leave you here?"
"YES!"
"Too bad."
With one final tug, I focused enough energy to initiate the jump. The world folded in on itself. My stomach churned as the familiar nausea of teleportation hit, but I held on, determined to drag Toneri's sorry ass with me.
We crash-landed in the med chambers. Toneri hit the floor with a graceless thud, groaning like a man who had truly seen the end of days. I managed to stay upright, though barely. My legs felt like jelly, and I probably looked like I'd gone ten rounds with a tailed beast.
"Menma!" Toneri roared, clutching his scalp like I'd ripped out half his hair. "What the hell was that?!"
"An act of heroism," I replied, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulders. "You're welcome, by the way."
"You could've warned me!" he snapped.
I smirked. "Where's the fun in that?"
Before he could retort, the sound of hurried footsteps cut through the air. Naruto appeared, his face a mix of irritation and concern. Dressed in black sweatpants and a red-and-white haori with flames at the hem, he looked every bit the responsible older brother—except for the part where he clearly wanted to strangle me.
"What happened to you two?" he asked, his tone hovering between exasperated and genuinely worried.
"Shisui," I said simply.
Naruto winced. That one word explained everything.
Toneri slumped into a chair like a man defeated, throwing an arm over his face. "Next time, just leave me in the dirt. I was happy there."
I plopped into the seat beside him, grinning despite the ache in every muscle. "And miss the look on your face when I grabbed your hair? Not a chance."
"You're a menace," he muttered.
"Better than a corpse," I shot back, laughing even though it felt like my ribs were on fire.
Naruto sighed and clapped his hands, summoning two of Toneri's servant puppets. "Get them to the treatment room before they kill each other."
As the puppets helped us to our feet, I couldn't help but smile. Despite his usual idiocy, Naruto had matured. The old him would've laughed at us before making things worse. Now? He actually cared. We kept on moving as we passed by a room with toddlers playing with shape blocks.
Flashback: One Year on the Moon
Naruto had been working his ass off, mastering chakra control. He was determined to inject his chakra into a patient's body with precision and care—a skill that, frankly, none of us believed he could pull off without losing control to the fox.
"I'm ready," he muttered one day, voice steady.
We followed him to the chamber where the baby preservation pods was stored. Every step felt heavy, like the weight of the moon itself was pressing down on us.
Naruto knelt, his aura flickering a calming blue. For a moment, everything was still. Then the blue shifted—dark red, ominous and raw. His whiskers deepened, his nails grew sharper, and his face… it wasn't human anymore. It was primal.
Shisui stood ready to intervene if things went south.
With a deep breath, Naruto extended chakra threads from his fingertips, connecting them to the baby's vital points. The process was painstakingly slow, each movement precise.
Then, it happened. A sound none of us expected: a baby's cry. Toneri, trembling, carefully removed the baby from the pod. His voice cracked as he cradled her.
"She… she's alive."
Naruto, drenched in sweat and barely standing, staggered forward. "What's her name?" he asked softly.
"She… she doesn't have one," Toneri admitted.
Naruto smiled faintly. "Then she'll be called Naruko. Our baby sister."
With that, he collapsed. Shisui caught him before he hit the floor.
Flashback end.
paa
The sound of Naruto slapping me snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Good, you're not brain-dead," he said dryly.
"I hate you "
"You'll live. Muscle tears and fatigue, nothing major." His hands glowed green as he began healing me. "But no heroics for the rest of the night. That's an order."
I grinned, leaning back as the pain started to fade. "Sure, boss. Whatever you say."
Naruto finished patching us up, his hands glowing with medical chakra as he worked. The pain in my ribs and legs dulled, replaced with a faint warmth that felt suspiciously like… comfort. Of course, Naruto didn't let me enjoy the moment.
"You still look like sin by the way," he muttered, stepping back to examine his work. "I don't even want to know what kind of training Shisui had you doing."
"Oh, you want to know," I replied, sitting up with a groan. "It involved weight seals, an intense workout session, and something about 'unlocking my potential through agony.' I think he stole it from a torture manual."
Toneri, still slumped in his chair like a wilted flower, let out a groan. "Don't forget the chakra suppression bands. He didn't just want us to suffer; he wanted us to suffer with style without reinforcing our bodies with chakra."
Naruto winced again. "And you agreed to this?"
"Agreed is a strong word," I said, leaning back against the wall. "It was more like… 'compelled by fear of Shisui's creepy motivational speeches.' The man could talk a wanna be Hyuga out of their pride."
"I'm filing a formal complaint," Toneri mumbled. "When I regain the ability to stand ."
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that. Shisui's terrifying and stubborn. He'll probably make you do extra laps for complaining."
The thought made Toneri groan even louder. "I'm starting to think the moon was better when it was just me and my puppets."
"Don't be so dramatic," I shot back. "You'd be bored out of your mind without us."
Toneri didn't reply, just tilted his head back and muttered something about how "boredom never tried to scalp me."
Naruto ignored our banter and turned to one of the servant puppets. "Make sure they're settled in a recovery room. If they so much as twitch, report back to me."
The puppet nodded silently, its blank face somehow managing to look judgmental. I swear, Toneri's puppets have a way of making you feel like you're constantly underperforming.
"Alright, Menma," Naruto continued, turning back to me. "Anything else hurting? Or just your pride?"
I smirked. "Mostly my pride. Shisui crushed it under his sandal about halfway through the second training exercise."
Naruto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting taking responsibility for us. "You're impossible."
"I get that a lot."
As we were escorted to our recovery rooms, I couldn't help but glance over at Toneri. Despite all the complaining, he was still holding himself together pretty well for someone who looked like he'd been dragged through hell. For all his high-and-mighty talk, the guy wasn't half bad.
The recovery room was as lavish as ever—smooth marble floors, moonlight streaming through the crystal-like windows, and cushions so soft you'd think they were stuffed with clouds. Toneri practically collapsed onto one of the beds, letting out a groan that sounded like it came from his soul.
I walked towards the showers using pure will to make sure I don't straight up sleep in there. I jumped to my room and picked a pair of comfy clothes and jumped back, I couldn't let the edge lord stay in the room alone and I'll rather avoid naruto's quarelling if i leave.
I flopped onto another bed beside his, stretching out with a dramatic sigh. "You know, this isn't so bad. Maybe Shisui's training has an upside—these beds feel amazing after a near-death experience."
Toneri pulled a blanket over his face. "Don't talk to me."
"C'mon, you love me."
"I tolerate you. Barely."
I grinned, turning my head to stare up at the ceiling. The faint hum of the moon's energy coursed through the room, a reminder of just how alien this place was. And yet, in a weird way, it had started to feel like home.
Hamura was right about one thing—he would provide accommodation to us. And not just that but a home.
And Naruto? He'd grown into someone I kinda respected. Sure, he still had his moments of stupidity, but seeing him take on the responsibility of healing that baby—Naruko, our new sister—had been something else. Then healing all the other people on this piece of rock sure he was still far from completing his side of the deal
"Hey," Toneri said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Do you think we'll survive tomorrow?"
"Doubtful," I replied without missing a beat. "But if we don't, I'm blaming you."
He snorted. "Typical."
We lapsed into silence again, the kind that wasn't uncomfortable but oddly reassuring. Despite everything—Shisui's brutal training, the constant threat of death, and the fact that I'd probably have nightmares about chakra suppression bands—I felt… okay. Tired, yes. Sore? Definitely. But okay.
"Hey, Menma?" Toneri's voice was quieter this time, almost hesitant.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For, you know… you guys staying." His words reminded me that he was just a kid who has seen his people die one after the other as he grew up.
I turned my head to look at him, grinning. "Don't get used to it."
He rolled his eyes but didn't reply, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.
As I stared up at the ceiling, a faint smile tugged at my lips. Tomorrow would probably be just as grueling, if not worse. But for now, we were alive. And that was enough.
POV :NARRATOR
As our protagonist slept soundly, back on earth things weren't that peaceful.
The moon hung low over the horizon, its silver glow casting shadows across the dense forest as the remnants of the Uchiha clan moved through the trees. Their pace was slow, deliberate—not because they wanted to be, but because it had to be. The caravan was weighed down by more than supplies or bodies. It was burdened by grief, uncertainty, and the haunting cries of children who had no idea why their world had been turned upside down.
Fugaku Uchiha, the clan's leader, walked near the front, with cuts allover his body his shoulders rigid with tension. His eyes—sharpened by years of battle and softened by years of fatherhood—scanned the trees for any sign of pursuit. Behind him trailed a ragtag assembly of shinobi, elderly civilians, and the injured, many supported by makeshift crutches or carried on stretchers. The children, clinging to their mothers or older siblings, moved in solemn silence, too scared to cry too loudly.
Near the center of the group, Uchiha Izuna knelt beside a stretcher. A boy no older than twelve lay unconscious on it, his face pale, his chest barely rising. Her hands glowed faintly with healing chakra, but her reserves were running dangerously low. Her gaze flickered to the sky, her lips moving in a silent prayer for the boy's survival.
"How's he doing?" Itachi's voice broke the silence.
Izuna turned to the guy. At just fourteen, Itachi's face had hardened in ways no child's should. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his once-pristine Uchiha armor was scuffed and torn. He wasn't just her childhood friend anymore; he was a soldier.
"He's hanging on," she replied, though the doubt in her voice was unmistakable.
Itachi nodded solemnly, his gaze shifting to the carts that trailed behind them. Covered in cloth, they carried the bodies of the fallen. Friends. Family. People who had trusted the Uchiha name to keep them safe. People they couldn't leave behind. His eyes trailed on a particular one. The one that held his dead mother.
"Why are we carrying the dead?" a bitter voice asked from behind them. It was a younger Uchiha man, his face twisted with frustration. "We can barely move as it is, and they're slowing us down!"
Fugaku stopped walking, turning to face the man with a glare that could cut through steel.
"We carry them," Fugaku said, his voice low and cold, "because they are Uchiha. We do not abandon our own. Not in life, and not in death."
The man lowered his gaze, muttering an apology, but the tension was thick enough to choke on. They all knew the truth. If the Leaf's ANBU caught up to them, the bodies they were dragging would turn them into sitting ducks.
"Father," Itachi said quietly, stepping forward. "He's not wrong. The dead would understand. We—"
"We will carry them," Fugaku interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "If the cost of escape is forgetting who we are, then we have already lost. We won't abandon them, not in life nor in death. "
Itachi pressed his lips together but said nothing. He knew better than to argue. Instead, he turned his gaze to Sasuke, who walked besides the body of his dead mother as they carried it on a stretcher. Sasuke's small hands clutched the edge of Mikoto's cloak that peaked out of the white cloth they had covered her with, his eyes wide with fear, hate and anger, Itachi's heart clenched.
A new dawn blurred together. The Land of Fire stretched endlessly behind them, its forests giving way to open fields and winding rivers of The Land of Hot Water. With every mile, the group grew wearier. Supplies ran low. Tempers flared.
It was the civilians who struggled the most—the elderly, the young, and the non-shinobi members of the clan who had been dragged into this nightmare simply because of their bloodline. Many had no training, no survival skills. They stumbled over roots, gasped for breath during long marches, and flinched at every shadow that moved in the darkness.
Uchiha Setsune, nineteen years old, a young jonin who had risen up ranks pretty quick, ever the optimist, tried to keep spirits high. He moved through the crowd, cracking jokes, offering encouragement, and even carrying one of the smaller children on his back when her legs gave out. But even his boundless energy couldn't erase the weariness etched into everyone's faces.
At night, as they camped beside a small creek, he approached Fugaku.
"They won't make it," Setsune said quietly, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.
Fugaku didn't respond immediately. He stared into the flames, his jaw tight.
"I'm not saying we should leave them," he added quickly. "But we need to move faster. If the Leaf finds us—"
"They won't."
"But if they do—"
"They won't."
Setsune sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't sustainable. The old man—" He gestured to one of the elders, who was coughing violently in his tent. "—he's not going to make it. And the kids—"
"I know, Setsune." Fugaku's voice was sharp, but his expression softened as he turned to look at the Uchiha's most talented young ninja. "I know. But this is the price we pay. For the children to have a future, we must carry the past."
The Land of Hot Water was a welcome sight. Its warm springs and misty hills felt like an oasis after weeks of cold, hard travel. But even as they crossed the border, relief was fleeting. They were still exposed, still vulnerable.
The first priority was finding shelter. Setsune, Izuna and Itachi scouted ahead, locating an abandoned village nestled in the hills. It was small and dilapidated, but it would do. The shinobi quickly set to work, fortifying the area, while the civilians tended to the wounded and prepared a burial ground.
The dead were laid to rest on the dawn of the second day.
It was a quiet ceremony. No grand speeches, no tears—just a solemn acknowledgment of those they had lost. Fugaku stood at the forefront, his head bowed as the clan said their final goodbyes.
Afterward, as the last of the dirt was shoveled over the graves, Fugaku turned to the gathered crowd.
"We have suffered," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "We have lost brothers, sisters, children. But we are still Uchiha. We have endured because we are strong. And we will continue to endure."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the group.
"This is not the end. This is our beginning. The world may see us as traitors, but we know the truth. We are not running. We are not hiding. We are building a new home here. For us. For our children. For the Uchiha name."
The crowd murmured in agreement, their spirits lifting ever so slightly.
As the afternoon sun glared upon the ground, Fugaku stood alone by the graves, his hands clasped behind his back. Infront of his wife's grave.
"We'll make it," Itachi said, stepping up beside him.
Fugaku didn't reply, but the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips.
"Yes," he said softly. "We will."
And for the first time in awhile, he believed it.
The Uchiha had escaped. They had lost much, but they had survived. And in the Land of Hot Water, they would rise again.
#What do you think? Should we ramp things up tomorrow, or let Menma and Toneri have a brief break? (Spoiler: probably not.) Whats next for the Uchiha now.
Thank you for reading #