Chapter 36: You Can Open Your Wings now

Konoha, Training Ground Number 7

After they finished their lunch at Ichiraku Ramen, Menma, along with the three assigned Anbu guards, Kakashi, and Snow, made their way to the familiar training ground. Today marked an important step forward—one he had been waiting for the entire month. The cast was gone, the pain had lessened, and now was the time to test how far he had come—and what was waiting ahead.

He had made a promise with teacher Guy to meet here after lunch, and Yoruusagi was also supposed to come by to go over the details of his chakra control training.

As they entered the training ground, the cold wind brushing across the field stirred up old dust. Menma's steps slowed as the space around him became quiet. He looked around, remembering—vividly—the clash with Guy. The jabs, the blocks, the momentum, the crash. The emotions. The injuries.

Each step echoed faintly in his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. Slowly, one by one, he began redoing every movement from the fight in perfect silence. The tilt of the shoulders, the pivot of the foot, the stretch in his back leg before a lunge. This was no warm-up. It was memory dancing through muscle.

The others, seeing him begin his motions with closed eyes, watched in silence. No one interrupted him. They stepped aside, giving him space—not just physically, but emotionally. Even Snow didn't meow.

Itachi, however, now known as Raven, activated his Sharingan. His crimson eyes turned and spun, following Menma's flowing form with fascination. He was trying to memorize the movements, analyze his fighting style. But before he could watch much longer, a hand pressed down on his shoulder—firm, heavy, and filled with chakra.

His entire body froze, turning stiff under the familiar pressure.

"Young Patriarch," the voice whispered like velvet steel behind him, "it is a very wrong thing to look at your comrade with such eyes."

He swallowed hard. He recognized the chakra, the voice—Lady Yoruusagi. She had appeared silently behind him and placed her hand there without him noticing. That, in itself, was enough to rattle him.

"I... was just trying to understand Menma's habits," he replied, voice steady but respectful. "So I could protect him better, in case of emergencies."

Shisui, standing nearby, stepped in as well. "Lady Yoruusagi, Raven only meant to be cautious. We accept it was disrespectful."

She looked at both of them for a moment, then finally released her hold.

"You'd better remember what you said. Or else, the clan head will be the one deciding whether you're still fit to be in Anbu."

Both bowed slightly as she turned and walked toward Kakashi, scooping Snow into her embrace. She pressed her face gently into Snow's fur, her graceful steps barely making sound as she moved.

Standing beside Kakashi, she spoke without looking at him.

"Isn't he beautiful? That outfit suits him perfectly. I told you he would look stunning."

Kakashi nodded, lips twitching slightly. "He does look good. But I should've known your clan would have an eye for aesthetics."

"Hmph. You're just jealous that we appreciate beauty."

"More like cautious." He glanced sideways. "By the way, someone didn't get invited to Ichiraku earlier…"

Yoruusagi's eyebrow twitched.

"Oh, I noticed," she said, tone sharp. "Which is why his big brother is going to make up for it later."

She gave him a dangerous smile.

Kakashi tried to deflect. "But his other brother still wears a diaper…"

Yoruusagi's smile only widened.

"Nice try. He's going to the hot spring spa after training today. Meaning it's our time." She leaned a little closer. "I've already planned the whole evening. Don't even think of escaping. Oh, and don't assume I haven't seen the book you're hiding under your vest."

Kakashi sighed deeply. He had no money, no freedom, and now no access to his Make-Out Paradise series. Life was cruel. Maybe… no. He had to be strong. He couldn't fall into temptation. Not yet.

Meanwhile, Menma's body was starting to shift from passive warmth to active burn. After a month of inactivity, every muscle was thrilled to move again. His lungs drew in sharp, steady air. His pulse thudded. His cells, awakened by oxygen and motion, began to glow with life.

His body temperature rose gradually.

His movements sharpened.

And with every second, the demand for speed and power grew.

Still, he held back. He was careful with his healing limbs and tried not to let his chakra erupt. He wanted to be in full control this time—no bursts, no losses.

Inside the seal, Kurama felt the awakening too.

The boy was serious. Focused.

Not wanting to disrupt the rhythm, Kurama gently diverted the incoming chakra surges into the seal lines, like redirecting flood water through tunnels. Menma wouldn't even notice, but the pressure on his body and mind eased slightly. He would be able to train longer, push harder.

Menma's body kicked into rhythm.

A jab.

A hook.

A twist into a low sweep and flip.

His feet danced across the ground as he unleashed a combination: jab, cross, lead hook, rear hook, lead uppercut, rear uppercut—perfectly chained, each blow carving through air. Then he started over. Again. And again.

A fluid, relentless assault of precision.

Even Kakashi and Yoruusagi were surprised.

It wasn't just talent. It wasn't just muscle memory. Menma's movements looked professional—like a trained taijutsu specialist born from nature itself. His technique was already pushing him toward elite levels.

Itachi watched in awe. Without his Sharingan fully focused, he would have been unable to even track those punches.

But the longer Menma moved, the more chakra bled out.

It started slow—like mist.

Then it gushed like a geyser.

His body, no longer able to hold it back, finally let go.

Kakashi and A moved instantly.

Kakashi formed three shadow clones, each running to a different corner of the training field. In unison, they began weaving seals.

The training ground also began to shift. Wooden pillars rose from beneath the ground, forming a ring around Menma. The wood twisted into massive dragon heads—open-mouthed, ancient in appearance.

Then a second pulse.

Kakashi and his clones activated the barrier, linking all four corners together into a sealed cube. A transparent field shimmered into existence around the dragons—containing the chakra within.

At the center of it all, A, the tall Anbu with binding duty, finished his own set of hand seals. Slamming his palm into the earth, he poured nearly half of his chakra into the ground.

A containment technique activated—one designed to absorb and soften Menma's explosive chakra when it inevitably broke free.

This entire setup had taken a month of trial, error, and rigorous practice.

Today, it was finally needed.

Just in time.

Because Menma's body erupted like a living volcano.

Chakra flooded the barrier, thick and crimson like a storm of fireflies caught in a maelstrom. A and Kakashi braced themselves. The sealing field held—for now.

Kakashi uncovered his Sharingan, scanning for fluctuations. Yoruusagi readied her kunai. The storm had begun.

And then—

"HI KAKASHI, MY ETERNAL RIVAL!! ARE YOU READY FOR A MATCH?!"

Guy's booming voice shattered the tension.

From the tree line, green spandex and blazing teeth shot through the air.

"NOOOOO!!!!" ×5 voices shouted in unison.

"Meow!" added Snow, facepalming with her paw.

Chaos was back.

And Menma?

Menma was smiling.

His wings were open now.

---

Village Hidden in the Clouds – Raikage's Office

Bang!

The wood of the table splintered and cracked violently as Raikage A's massive fist smashed down once again, leaving behind yet another broken desk. Pieces of the poor furniture scattered around the office as the aides standing nearby flinched.

In the corner of the room, Killer B silently observed his older brother's rampage. It was already the third desk today. The maintenance team would have to bring in a new one—again.

A's face was flushed with fury. His muscles were tense, his veins pulsing along his forehead.

"What about our spies in Konoha?!" he roared, slamming both palms on what was left of the table. "Didn't you say our top agent has been undercover for years? That he was buried so deep they'd never root him out?!"

His tone sharpened even more.

"Then tell me—how not just him, but all seven of our trained operatives were taken down in one sweep? Are you telling me our entire intelligence network in Konoha has been reduced to ash overnight?! How are we supposed to carry out any offensive strikes without internal details?!"

The elder shinobi responsible for external operations stood stiffly in front of him, sweat rolling down his cheek.

"Konoha didn't just remove our spies, Lord Raikage. They conducted a total internal sweep. We've received confirmation that they wiped out a large number of infiltrators from every nation. All intelligence channels have gone dark. Even the black market's gone quiet—no one's trading Konoha secrets anymore."

Raikage A gritted his teeth. "What about the Hyuga? And the brat—Nine Tails' Jinchūriki? I was told we'd have their location, their condition, everything by now!"

The elder hesitated, then bowed his head low.

"I'm afraid it's impossible, sir. Their internal lockdown is too tight. No new information has left the village."

A's hand curled into a fist again. His voice turned cold. "Then maybe I should send you to the front lines, if you're so useless."

The elder's back tensed.

"If anyone could retrieve those details at this point, Raikage-sama... I'd go myself."

A didn't reply. His anger smoldered, but he said nothing more.

He turned around and walked toward the window, fists clenched behind his back. He looked out over the lightning-split sky of his homeland, his eyes filled with unspoken frustration.

They had spent five years planning for this.

Five years gathering data, identifying weaknesses, positioning men, and testing political fractures.

And now?

All of it wiped away in a single, invisible purge.

His voice came quieter this time, but no less intense.

"Find me a solution. I don't care how. I can feel it… If we don't erase that Jinchūriki now, we'll never get the chance again. This year… we're going for both the Byakugan and the Nine Tails. I've decided. Dismissed."

As the others bowed and left the office one by one, only B remained, silently leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

He stared out the window as well, then murmured under his breath.

"Maybe… dying young is also a relief for you, kid."

The wind howled softly outside, echoing something unspoken.

---

Konoha, Training Ground 7 – Later That Afternoon

Menma was grinning widely now. His face shone with warmth. His limbs burned with vitality. His chest expanded with each full breath.

His body had come alive again.

Even so, noticing Kakashi's and A's concerned expressions, he slowly stopped moving and eased himself down onto the ground. Crossing his legs, he sat still and exhaled deeply, beginning to meditate.

Gradually, the overflowing chakra in his system began to settle. It cooled, becoming smooth like water running through familiar paths. With practiced focus, he directed the energy to flow in a cycle—from his heart to his brain, then outward to his limbs and back to his lungs.

He could see it in his mind's eye.

The chakra moved like wind in a wheel. A circular path, smooth and unbroken. Inhale—energy flowed inward. Exhale—energy returned, refined and calm.

It was meditation, yes, but more than that—it was discipline.

And it was unique to Menma. Because unlike other shinobi, who had to create chakra, build it up, summon it from their reserves—Menma had too much. His chakra was dense, heavy, constantly overflowing. Even within the Uzumaki clan, known for monstrous stamina, his case was unheard of.

He wasn't just a Jinchūriki.

He was a chakra beast in flesh and blood.

His meditation, unlike others, wasn't to increase chakra—but to drain it. To bleed off the excess and reinforce his cells with it so they wouldn't drown under the pressure. This very method was the only thing keeping him balanced.

Watching the energy circulate, he suddenly remembered something—Teacher Guy, opening the Eight Gates to become stronger.

His eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Could he find those gates inside his own body? Could he try… just once?

Focusing intently, he probed his internal chakra network. It was difficult. There was so much chakra flying around that everything felt like a storm. But eventually, he found them—thick energy veins connecting central points across his body. Channels and chambers, linked like a living map.

He followed one, then another, tracing backwards until—

There.

A chamber unlike the rest.

Smaller, more concentrated. Subtle.

The First Gate.

The Gate of Opening—located in the brain's left hemisphere.

He smiled.

This was it.

Cautiously, he began moving a small thread of chakra toward the gate, intending to prod it open gently.

It didn't budge.

He frowned. Summoning a bit more chakra, he tried again, pressing harder this time.

And then—

"HEY, YOU BRAT! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Kurama's voice roared across the seal, sharp as lightning.

Startled, Menma blinked.

"W-What?! I was just—"

Kurama, whose chakra had just finished flowing back into Menma's body, was wide awake now, ears practically twitching from shock.

"Do you have any idea what would happen if you opened that thing right now?! You didn't even let your body heat up to seventy percent of its normal limit during training! And now you want to ask it to overwork?!"

Menma paused.

"…Would something bad happen?"

Kurama growled.

"Bad?! You'd turn into a walking explosion tag! Your entire body would self-detonate from the internal overload! You'd blast Kakashi, the Anbu, the cats, the trees—everyone to the sky!!"

He didn't even mention the other issue—that with that kind of chakra surge, Menma's other side might show itself too soon.

"…Oh," Menma mumbled. "Sorry. I'll be more careful. I just… wanted to see if I could open it later."

Letting the chakra go, he returned to meditating—quietly feeding energy back into his body. Still, the location of that first gate was burned into his memory.

One day… when he was ready… he'd try again.

And he'd fly higher than anyone before.

....