"Sister Izumi, are you excited? Happy?" Menma teased the bride-to-be, Uchiha Izumi—famous beauty of the Uchiha clan. A pity, really; such a beauty stolen by Itachi. ε=(ο`*)))well
Izumi rested a hand on her swollen belly, smiling. "Of course I'm excited!"
"If, after the wedding, Itachi bullies you, you have to tell me. I'll beat him up for you." Menma had barely finished before realizing—if there's no "bullying," where does the love crystal come from?
Just as Menma was about to keep talking, Itachi appeared, wrapped an arm around Izumi's waist, and pulled her close. Izumi nestled her head on his shoulder.
Menma: (ω)!
For a single dog like Menma—crit: 999999999999!
Itachi smiled at Menma. "I'll love her and protect her for the rest of my life."
"Itachi—"
"Stop." Menma cut off the sweet scene. After swallowing that much dog food, his stomach couldn't take it—he might throw up.
"Please don't be so mushy, okay? I'm still here!" If they suddenly started kissing in front of him, Menma's "fragile" heart might just shatter.
Menma Uzumaki, died at age 12!
"Hahahahaha." Itachi and Izumi were amused by Menma's grousing.
Menma: (へ╬)
After they finished laughing, Itachi asked, "Menma, why were you looking for me today?"
Menma had come to see Izumi; Itachi had been stuck in a clan meeting, so Menma ended up chatting with her instead.
"Itachi, what would you think if one day shinobi could earn money without taking missions?" Menma asked.
Earn money without commissions? Itachi looked at him, puzzled.
Menma continued, "I mean shinobi not only take missions, but also do other kinds of work—while having the same status as ordinary people. What do you think?"
Itachi felt this was beyond his imagination.
"Is that… good?" Izumi asked, curious.
"Of course it's good," Menma replied. "Imagine a place with rules—first, you can't just kill people. No constant fighting. Everyone can actually live well and watch the sunset in peace." He spoke of the city he used to live in.
How wonderful would that be?
"That would be good," Itachi said, genuinely excited. Since childhood he had seen the horror of war—so many children in Konoha growing up without parents; endless death and conflict born from people's desires.
Then the excitement faded into a wry smile. As beautiful as Menma's picture was, it sounded like a fantasy.
Seeing the shift in Itachi's expression, Menma smiled. "Itachi, that day isn't far off."
Why bring this up now? The Sand's invasion had reminded him: even after all he'd changed, invasion still came. Where there are interests, there will be wars.
And this morning, he'd felt it—the shift in his own strength, finally reaching this step. Twelve might be "genius" to others, but he'd once watched someone at Kage level at eight. He would build a better Naruto world, especially in Konoha—the village he'd lived in for 12 years and grown to love.
Itachi thought of something Menma had told him before. Could it be that Menma really intends to…?
But he would support him. Not only did Menma long for that future—Itachi did too. That's why he had already chosen a name for his unborn child: Uchiha Peace.
But wishes alone aren't enough. Someone must charge first. Itachi had seen it: a path toward peace.
"Menma, remember—I told you I'll support you in whatever you do," Itachi said again.
"Thanks, Itachi." Menma patted his shoulder.
Then he changed the subject. "Your wedding is in a few days. Need any help?"
…Menma: "." Walked right into that one.
"Shadow Clone Technique." Ten clones popped into existence. "Use these ten however you want. I'm out. Bye-bye!" He vanished.
Clones: "."
Itachi and Izumi froze, then laughed together. Classic Menma.
Itachi immediately started assigning tasks to Menma's clones.
Clones: "."
Meanwhile, the real Menma slipped onto the street, patting his chest. "Good thing I ran. Otherwise I'd be GG. Itachi's too much. Thank goodness for shadow clones—heavy lifting goes to them!" He wandered into a dango shop, muttering.
Sweets improve the mood.
"Boss, tri-color dango, size large; red bean soup—" Menma rattled off a long order and sat down to wait.
A familiar voice chimed in: "Boss, twenty orders of tri-color dango, ten bowls of red bean soup."
Without looking up, Menma said, "Pig? Eating that much?" He raised his head—to see a woman glaring at him.
Menma: ￣□￣｜｜ It was none other than an acquaintance—the Chunin Exam proctor, Mitarashi Anko.
"Sister Anko, what a coincidence," Menma greeted.
"Yeah, what a coincidence. I just heard someone slandering me. Who did you call a pig?" Anko marched over, ready to prosecute.
Menma's survival instincts kicked in. "I was talking about myself!" A wise man doesn't fight a scary woman.
"Fine, I'll believe you for now. Oh—and you're paying for this meal," Anko said.
Menma: "." Getting fleeced?
"What, you don't want to? You scammed 400,000 from the Hokage," she added. She'd been there when he'd "reimbursed" Tsunade.
"Please, of course I'm paying! But Sister Anko, for the record, I didn't scam Hokage-sama. She rewarded me." Menma protested.
Don't slander me. How could I fleece my cute, charming Tsunade-sister?
"Smooth talker," Anko sniffed.
"Be honest."
Their orders hit the table—completely packed.
They dug in like wolves.
Soon, the entire spread was gone.
Menma settled the bill—Anko's portion included.
"Thanks," Anko said.
"You're welcome. But Sister Anko, maybe eat a little less. Otherwise you'll turn into Mitarashi Potato—fat and ugly." Menma vanished the instant he finished.
Anko: (へ╬)
Her face darkened. She roared, "Menma! You're dead!"
(End of Chapter)
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