Tōma found himself back inside that strange, colorless space once again.
This time, he didn't dare experiment.
He'd already gambled once. If he pushed his luck and failed to return, that would be a disaster. So instead of acting, he focused on observation, carefully memorizing the sensation of time and space folding around him.
At one point, he faintly sensed a Flying Thunder God mark.
He immediately let it go.
Not now. No more recklessness.
The spatial turbulence finally calmed. Light returned, and Tōma found himself standing amid ruins.
Loulan.
But something felt… off.
The spatial disturbance hadn't fully dispersed, as if not everyone had been sent back yet.
Kakashi's group, most likely.
That concern was quickly eclipsed by something far more troubling.
Tōma frowned.
He couldn't sense his spiritual clone.
Not the chakra link. Not the secondary soul. Nothing.
That shouldn't have been possible.
Even if his main body had died, the spiritual clone should have persisted. At worst, the secondary soul would become dominant and seek a new vessel.
So where was it?
Did the separation between worlds sever the connection entirely?
Or worse…
This still wasn't his world.
Tōma slowly exhaled and looked up just as four figures crashed onto the sand nearby, unconscious.
Kakashi.
Naruto.
Sasuke.
And—
"…Namikaze Menma."
That settled it.
He was still in the other world. The one where history had already diverged.
And judging by the lineup, Menma had succeeded where Tōma never had in his own timeline.
Joining Team Seven.
It made sense. With Minato alive and paying special attention to him, there was no chance Menma would be placed in an ordinary squad.
The four stirred.
Naruto sat up first, rubbing his head. "Ugh… I feel like I had a really weird dream. Can't remember any of it."
He glanced at Tōma. "Menma, why're you standing over there?"
Menma blinked. "What are you talking about? I'm right next to you."
Naruto froze.
Slowly, he turned his head. Then back to Tōma.
"…Huh?"
"Menma," Naruto said carefully, "since when did you have a twin? Is that a Shadow Clone?"
"Idiot," Menma snapped. "In this condition, how would I—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Because he finally looked properly.
The man standing nearby had his face.
Exactly his face.
"Yo," Tōma said cheerfully. "Long time no see."
Menma's pupils shrank.
Kakashi and Sasuke had noticed by now as well.
Kakashi's eye curved thoughtfully.
So it wasn't one secret love child… but two?
Sasuke, on the other hand, just stared with naked curiosity. There was none of the heaviness Tōma remembered from his own Sasuke. No massacre. No abyss.
That alone said everything.
"We've met before," Tōma said.
Memory slammed into Menma.
The orphanage.
The night of the Nine-Tails.
That man.
So it hadn't been him changing the past.
It had been this guy.
Menma ground his teeth, then sighed.
Well. If anyone was going to mess up the plot, at least it was… him.
"Can we talk alone?" Tōma asked.
Menma nodded. "Yeah."
He told the others he'd catch up and followed Tōma into the desert.
Once they were alone, Menma crossed his arms. "Alright. Who are you?"
"Take a guess."
"Not worth the effort."
Tōma chuckled, then calmly spoke a name.
Menma's former name.
The one that existed only in his previous life.
Menma stiffened.
"…You're not from this world."
"Bingo," Tōma said. "Sharp as ever."
Menma let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "You scared the hell out of me. So… how'd you get here?"
Tōma explained it simply. The Dragon Vein. Time displacement. Sensing Menma's presence. Flying Thunder God.
Menma finally understood everything.
Including why Minato had taken such an interest in that orphanage.
"…So that's why," he muttered.
Then a thought hit him. "Wait. Can you even go back?"
Tōma didn't answer.
Menma's eyes widened. "You're serious?"
"I'm not sure," Tōma admitted. "But I can still faintly sense a Flying Thunder God mark. I'll try."
Menma considered it, then nodded. "Fair."
"So," Tōma continued, "I wanted to see how strong you turned out."
Menma answered instantly. "Nope."
"…Why?"
"You slammed the Nine-Tails with one hand. I'm not suicidal."
Tōma studied him for a moment, then laughed. "Fair enough."
They talked instead.
About paths taken. About compromises. About power gained at a cost.
Menma's body was a mess of grafts and stolen potential. Hashirama cells. Uchiha blood. Mangekyō Sharingan. Shikotsumyaku. Even plans involving a miniature Ten-Tails someday.
Tōma listened in silence.
This was the path of someone without a safety net.
In the end, Menma offered, "If you can't get back, you can come to Konoha with me."
"I'll manage," Tōma said. "But… good luck."
They exchanged Flying Thunder God kunai.
Then Menma vanished.
Tōma remained alone in the desert, staring at the sky.
Different worlds. Different versions. Different outcomes.
After a moment, he turned toward the Dragon Vein's location.
No one else would be using it.
Might as well not let it go to waste.
At the sealed site, he dismantled Minato's work carefully, opening only a narrow channel.
Then he sat down.
And began to draw in the Dragon Vein's endless power.