The moment Menma released the Adamantine Sealing Chains, a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision blurred, and he swayed, nearly falling face-first into the dirt.
He caught himself with a few shaky steps, regaining his footing before the situation became embarrassing.
He steadied his breath, rubbed his forehead, and let out a tired chuckle.
"I pushed too far today…"
The sun was dipping beyond the rooftops of Konoha, painting the training grounds in fading gold. Menma had trained harder today than on any day before—twice the clones, twice the release attempts, twice the feedback strain.
Yesterday, he had finally grasped the correct feeling for the Adamantine Sealing Chains. Naturally, he pushed himself to ride that momentum. But the chakra expenditure and accumulated fatigue were enough to overwhelm even him—Uzumaki stamina or not.
Still, it was within the threshold of what he could handle.
Menma would never allow himself to collapse from overtraining—not after everything he had learned from both Kushina's memories and his own experience.
He originally planned to consolidate the technique further, but the dizziness convinced him otherwise.
"Yeah… that's enough for today."
He inhaled deeply, gathered his things, and started down the familiar dirt path back toward Konoha.
As he walked past Ichiraku Ramen, he paused.
Something brushed against his senses—two substantial chakra signatures approaching from the street ahead. Menma wasn't sensing them in the way a Hyuga would; rather, his Uzumaki intuition, heightened by days of intense training, made him unusually sensitive to powerful chakra nearby.
One chakra was unmistakable—bright, fierce, chaotic.
Naruto.
The other was not as overwhelmingly huge, but still far greater than that of a typical jonin. Not Kakashi, not Asuma, not Gai—not even the Third Hokage.
This chakra was vibrant, wild, and ancient-feeling… almost like a sage's energy, but not quite.
Menma's steps slowed.
Could it be…?
A moment later, the realization struck him.
"Jiraiya…?"
And just as the name formed in his mind, two figures turned the corner.
Naruto immediately spotted him.
"Hey! Menma! What luck—running into you here!"
Naruto waved his arms excitedly.
Next to him stood an unmistakable man—tall, broad-shouldered, long white hair flowing down his back, wearing a red haori and wooden sandals, with the forehead protector that read "Oil" (油) tied around his head.
Jiraiya of the Sannin.
The Toad Sage.
The man who trained both the Third Hokage and the Fourth.
Menma's eyes narrowed for a brief moment—not out of hostility, but out of silent introspection. Jiraiya was connected deeply to his parents, and although Menma's demeanor remained calm, his mind churned with unspoken emotion.
Jiraiya paused the moment he saw Menma.
The boy's long dark hair, his features—something about him stirred an old memory. For just a second, guilt flickered across Jiraiya's expression before he forced a grin to hide it.
"Oh? So this is the number one student you mentioned, Naruto?"
Naruto puffed out his chest.
"Yep! Grandpa Jiraiya, this is Uzumaki Menma! The top of our class—he's insanely strong! And Menma, this is—"
Menma stepped forward before Naruto could finish.
He bowed politely.
"I've met Jiraiya-sama."
Naruto blinked.
"Eh? Menma, you already know Grandpa Jiraiya?"
Menma straightened, speaking respectfully.
"As a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf, how could I not know Jiraiya-sama? One of the Legendary Sannin, student of the Third Hokage, and the master of the Fourth Hokage—your father."
Naruto's eyes widened as the explanation sank in.
"Oh! Right! I forgot about that part!"
Jiraiya smirked proudly and rubbed Naruto's head.
"See? Maybe you should learn a thing or two from Menma. That's a proper Konoha upbringing."
Naruto pouted.
"Hey! I am learning! Menma's the best in class, so I've gotta follow his lead!"
"Hahaha! Good attitude."
Jiraiya clapped Naruto on the back before turning to Menma.
"So your name's Menma? You've got good manners. I like that. You haven't eaten yet, right? Want to join us?"
Menma bowed slightly again.
"It would be an honor to be invited by Jiraiya-sama."
"What honor? I'm just saying we should grab dinner!"
Jiraiya laughed and waved off the formality.
"You and Naruto are teammates—you can just call me Grandpa Jiraiya, you know. 'Sama' sounds too stiff."
Menma quickly shook his head.
"That would be too disrespectful."
The politeness was sharp, deliberate. Too deliberate.
For a heartbeat, Jiraiya felt something odd.
As if the boy wasn't respecting him… but keeping distance.
But he brushed off the thought immediately.
He's just a polite kid… right?
"That's enough worrying about titles—let's go."
Jiraiya placed a large hand on Menma's shoulder as if they were already familiar.
Naruto grinned.
"Yeah! No need to be stiff around Grandpa Jiraiya! He's loaded!"
Menma let out a soft chuckle.
"Then I'll be in your care."
The three entered Ichiraku.
"Iris! One large pork ramen!"
Naruto yelled immediately.
"Ah—Naruto! Sure thing!"
Teuchi beamed. Then he spotted Jiraiya and nearly jumped.
"J-Jiraiya-sama!"
He bowed deeply.
"Relax, boss! No need for formalities. Naruto and I will both have pork ramen. Menma what'll you have?"
Jiraiya turned toward him with a grin.