Night fell over the Land of Fire.
Not silent. Not still.But… watchful.
A single cottage stood at the edge of the forgotten woods.
Not marked on maps.
Not part of any village.
Just a small roof. One candle. A garden too wild to be planned.
Inside, a boy stirred from sleep.
Messy black hair.Amber eyes.A faint mark over his stomach, shaped like a swirl.
He didn't know what it was.Didn't know where he came from.
He only knew the name he was given.
Menma.
But it didn't feel right.
Not fully.
It felt like a borrowed coat—warm, but tight in the shoulders.
He sat up.
The wind spoke.
Like it always did on nights like this.
Not with words. Not with sound.
With… presence.
It pulled him to the edge of the garden.
The trees parted.
A trail appeared. One that wasn't there yesterday.
He followed.
Barefoot.
Unafraid.
His heart beat fast—but not in fear.In recognition.
He knew this path.
Not from memory.From something deeper.
From the soul that hummed inside his bones.
He reached a clearing.
A stone sat in the middle.
Not a grave.
A marker.
Its surface was smooth. Untouched by rain. Untouched by time.
No name.
No symbol.
Just a spiral, carved deep.
Menma stepped forward.
His hand trembled.
"I know you," he whispered.
No answer.
But the air shifted.
The trees leaned closer.
The wind stilled.
And a voice—not from outside, but from within—said:
"Then remember me."
And it all crashed down.
Images. Emotions.A boy with golden hair.A laugh like sunlight.Pain buried beneath smiles.Fury wrapped in kindness.A needle that stitched the world.
A choice.
Erasure.
Menma fell to his knees.
Not crying.
Not screaming.
Just feeling.
The life he never lived.The name he never had.The pain he was never meant to carry.
And the love.
So much love.
Carved into every thread of who he was.
He looked up.
A figure stood beside the stone.
Not flesh.Not illusion.
Just a shape made of memory.
Golden hair.Blue eyes.Older. Stronger.
But still… him.
Still Naruto.
Menma rose.
The figure smiled.
"You left me behind," Menma said.
"No," Naruto answered. "I gave you everything I couldn't keep."
"Why?"
Naruto looked at the sky.
Where no stars shone, and yet light bled through.
"Because I was a wound," he said."You're the healing."
Menma clenched his fists.
"I'm not you."
Naruto stepped closer.
Touched his chest.
"No. You're better."
The figure began to fade.
The air hummed.
But Naruto's voice lingered.
"Be the story worth remembering.""Not for power.""Not for fame.""But for the next boy… who forgets his name."
The spiral on the stone glowed once.
Then dimmed.
The trees swayed.
Menma stood alone.
But no longer empty.
The wind wrapped around him like a cloak.
He turned, walked back toward the house.
The trail behind him vanished.
But the feeling didn't.
From that night on, he trained harder.Spoke softer.Listened more.
Not because he was special.
But because someone once gave everything…Just so he could choose who to become.
—End of Chapter 94—