"I'll have some barbecued pork ramen as well,"
Menma said quietly.
Ichiraku Ramen.
As the most famous place to eat in the entire Hidden Leaf Village, Menma had naturally dined here many times since arriving in this world. A large part of that was due to the fact that Teuchi, the owner, never treated Menma with the same fear or hostility that many villagers held. Unlike ordinary civilians who avoided him, Teuchi treated Menma just like any other child.
That alone made Menma return.
This was also the only place Menma dared to eat outside during the twelve years before graduating the Academy. Of course, he always made sure to enter only when there were no other customers, and he always ate quickly. The moment he sensed someone approaching, Menma would leave immediately—finished or not.
People treating him normally was rare.
In a ninja village where hatred lingered from the Nine-Tails' attack, Teuchi's attitude was unusually warm and humane. It didn't move Menma emotionally—he wasn't the type to be swayed that easily—but at the very least, he refused to cause trouble for someone who had shown him simple kindness.
Teuchi, naturally, knew Menma's identity. He pitied the boy. He knew how unfair the villagers could be; after all, in the chaos twelve years ago, many had lost family and friends. Their hatred was understandable, even if misdirected.
But Teuchi was just a civilian.
He had no political power, no influence.
All he could do was silently add an extra portion of toppings whenever Menma came in.
A small gesture of care.
"Alright, I'll add two extra servings of barbecued pork. Please wait just a moment, Lord Jiraiya,"
Teuchi said after bowing. He quickly went to work.
Before long, three steaming bowls—clearly much larger than usual—were placed before them.
"I'm diggin' in!"
Naruto exclaimed, eyes glowing as he immediately attacked his bowl.
For Naruto, no matter how delicious food elsewhere was, nothing compared to a bowl of Ichiraku Ramen.
In mere minutes, he emptied the bowl—something most adults couldn't do.
Menma, on the other hand, wasn't far behind.
With his strong appetite and a full day of intensive training behind him, his ramen vanished almost as fast as Naruto's.
Jiraiya watched the two boys eating side by side, and a ripple of nostalgia flashed through his eyes.
Red hair and blond hair.
Minato's face in one.
Kushina's in the other.
For a moment, it felt like he had slipped back to those warm evenings more than a decade ago—dinners shared at the home of his beloved disciple and Kushina.
Has it really been twelve years?
Jiraiya's chest tightened.
When he received news that Minato and Kushina had died protecting the village, he refused to believe it at first. To him, Minato was a genius who should have led Konoha for decades. How could someone like that die so suddenly?
He didn't want to accept it.
He didn't want it to be true.
But when he rushed back to Konoha, all he found were the cold bodies of Minato and Kushina, and two newborn twins—Naruto and Menma.
That day, Jiraiya's heart fractured. Looking at the infants who had lost everything, he felt overwhelming sorrow.
He truly did consider raising the twins himself.
But in the end, he left Konoha again—for reasons that still haunted him. Maybe it was because of the prophecy of the "Child of Destiny" from Mount Myōboku. Maybe it was Hiruzen's words. Maybe it was his own fear of failing again.
Whatever the reason, he had run away from his responsibility.
Yes.
Responsibility.
The responsibility of a master.
A bond that was often closer than blood.
Naruto called him "Grandpa Jiraiya," but the truth was more literal—he was, in every real sense, a grandfather to both Naruto and Menma.
And yet… what had he done for them these twelve years?
Face numbness, yes.
But nothing more.
He visited Naruto a few times.
Menma?
Not even once.
That failure weighed on him.
No matter how fans in the real world argued, the truth was simple:
If Jiraiya knew how Naruto was treated but did nothing—
He was a terrible guardian.
If Jiraiya didn't know—
He was hopelessly negligent.
Either way, the responsibility was his.
Menma, of course, had no idea what Jiraiya was thinking. And even if he did, he would only scoff.
Guilt?
What a useless emotion.
As he had once heard in his previous life:
"If an apology was enough, there wouldn't be a need for police."
The version of Menma who once saw this world through rose-colored nostalgia was long gone.
Now, he had only two categories for people in this world:
Those willing to walk beside him—
And those who stood in his way.
Jiraiya, Kakashi—everyone.
Their future stance would determine how Menma treated them.
Nothing else mattered.
Step by step, they left the shop.
"Menma, you came from the west side of the village. What were you doing over there?"
Naruto asked, rubbing his full stomach and tilting his head.
"Ah, training,"
Menma answered with a smile.
"There's still time before the third round of the Chūnin Exams. I want to get as strong as possible."
"Oh! Training? Yeah, Sasuke's being trained by Kakashi-sensei, so I'm gonna train with Grandpa Jiraiya. Hey, Menma, why don't you join us? Right, Grandpa Jiraiya!?"
JOIN MY PATREON TO READ 50+ CHAPTERS BEFORE PUBLIC RELEASE OR PURCHASE FOR LIFETIME ACCESS!
WE ARE CURRENTLY ON CHAPTER 158 ON PATREON.
Patreon.com/HACKDWORLD