Naruto: The Avenger of the Uzumaki clan

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As Shibuki's figure gradually disappeared into the distance, Menma's faint smile faded. He turned toward Mizuno, his expression a mix of emotions, and said with a touch of helplessness, "I thought I disguised myself perfectly. Elder Mizuno, where did I slip up?"

Mizuno smiled faintly, his demeanor calm. "You didn't slip up, Menma-kun. It's just the intuition of an old man nearing the end of his days. You didn't act out of character, nor did you reveal yourself outright. It's just that you seemed... younger than you should have been. That made me curious, so I began connecting the dots. Of course, I wasn't entirely certain—intuition can only take you so far. To be honest, you could've kept up the act longer. Why choose to reveal yourself now?"

Mizuno's smile deepened, like he was meeting an old friend after many years.

As he spoke, his words carried a universal truth: lies are often revealed not by their entirety but by a single, small detail. For someone with the experience and wisdom of Mizuno, it was enough to unravel the facade.

Menma chuckled softly. "Well, since I've been found out, there's no point in keeping up the act. Besides, I trust that you, Elder Mizuno, would've reached the same conclusion eventually, right?"

He doubted it was just "intuition" that exposed him. There must have been something he overlooked—some slip that tipped the elder off. But it didn't matter now.

From the moment Mizuno chose not to expose him in front of Shibuki, the outcome was clear.

After all, Mizuno was a man on the brink of death.

Menma smiled slightly and clasped his hands together. "Release."

With a flicker of chakra, his Transformation Jutsu dissolved, revealing his true appearance. The red hair and sharp features caught Mizuno's eye immediately.

"You... who are you?" Mizuno's eyes widened. Though he'd prepared himself for the truth, seeing Menma in person left him stunned. In the current ninja world, Menma was infamous—the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki, the son of the Fourth Hokage, and a rogue ninja of Konoha.

"Forgive me for using deception, Elder Mizuno. Given my circumstances, I had no other choice," Menma said, his tone calm yet respectful.

Mizuno's face was a mixture of shock and resignation. "Menma... I never expected it to be you. To think the young man I was speaking to is only a 12-year-old boy."

After a moment, Mizuno let out a weary sigh. "If only Shibuki had even half your intelligence, agility, or courage. I wouldn't have to worry so much."

His words carried a heavy weight, tinged with disappointment. Shibuki, despite being the leader of Takigakure, lacked the qualities necessary for such a crucial role.

Menma's smile returned, faint and measured. "Shibuki's kindness and purity of heart are his greatest strengths, Elder Mizuno. Those traits are respected and admired by many. You shouldn't worry too much."

It wasn't mere flattery. Menma genuinely believed that Shibuki's character had value, especially in peaceful times. Leaders like Shibuki thrived when there was harmony within their village. But in times of conflict, people instinctively sought out those who could offer strength and protection.

Mizuno's expression grew serious. "Menma-kun, can you protect that child? Can you ensure that Takigakure will continue to exist?"

The abrupt question caught Menma off guard. For a brief second, he hesitated before replying with conviction. "Elder Mizuno, I think you've misunderstood me. I do have intentions toward Takigakure, but not the ones you fear. I have no desire to destroy this village or harm Shibuki. On the contrary, I want to ensure its future."

His voice was steady, his gaze unwavering.

He wasn't lying. Takigakure was his ideal base of operations. Shibuki's cooperation was essential for his plans, and Menma had no intention of killing him or destabilizing the village. A smooth transition of power was always preferable.

Mizuno scrutinized Menma's expression, searching for deceit, but all he saw was sincerity. Perhaps it was a façade, but at this point, what choice did he have? The old man sighed and nodded.

"Then I will leave Takigakure in your hands, Menma-kun." Mizuno's voice was solemn, his bow formal.

Menma returned the gesture with equal gravity. "Rest assured, Elder Mizuno. From this moment on, Takigakure is my village as well."

His words were spoken with conviction. Menma wasn't just making a promise; he was stating his mission. A stronger Takigakure was crucial for his plans, and he would do everything in his power to achieve it.

With a respectful bow, Menma stepped away. "Elder Mizuno, please rest. I'll deal with Shisha and his lackeys alongside Shibuki."

As Menma vanished from sight, Mizuno slumped back. The strain was evident—his strength was fading, his life slipping away. His breaths grew shallow as his body trembled.

'I can't die yet… I must hold on… just a little longer...'

Mizuno eyes fluttered shut as the specter of death loomed over him. His once-strong presence now felt faint and fragile, his vitality nearly spent.

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Menma, though already deceased to the world, could not have foreseen the imminent demise of Elder Mizuno. The elder, clinging to life by a fragile thread, had displayed a fleeting burst of vigor earlier—his final reservoir of strength burning away like a dying ember.

The doctor had said Mizuno might survive another day, perhaps two, with rest. Yet, the emotional strain he had endured drained what little life remained. Had he endured just a while longer, his presence alone might have been enough to rally the hesitant Taki-nin to Shibuki's side.

But Mizuno understood his limits. His final act was deliberate—entrusting the village's fate to Menma.

Not that he had chosen Menma out of faith. It was necessity.

Menma sensed this in part, though he harbored his own interpretation. The Uzumaki believed the elder had played his final hand, manipulating the situation to its inevitable outcome. As a skilled sensor, Menma could read chakra fluctuations, but he was no medical-nin. He couldn't determine how long Mizuno had truly had left.

Besides, willpower could defy logic in moments like this, deceiving even the keenest of senses. Menma dismissed the elder's frailty as a calculated move to sway the village's future. Regardless of intent, the result was clear: the weight of Takigakure's survival now rested squarely on his shoulders.

Menma turned his focus outward. Enough time had passed since his arrival; the next phase of his plan was unfolding. Shisha, the village's traitorous shinobi, was drawing closer.

Menma closed his eyes, expanding his sensory range. Sure enough, Shisha's chakra signature, along with thirty or forty others, was rapidly approaching the village gates. He noted Shibuki stationed at the entrance with ten loyal Taki-nin. The young leader had evidently cleared the area of civilians and non-combatants in preparation for the confrontation.

Still, Menma sensed hesitation in Shibuki's forces. The tension in their chakra told the story—they were unnerved, uncertain. The sight of Shisha and his group emerging from the forest path confirmed their worst fears.

At the Village Gates

"Swoosh!"

"Swoosh!"

"Swoosh!"

"Swoosh!"

Figures materialized in a blur of movement. Shisha stood at the forefront, his sneering expression sharp against the backdrop of his forces.

Gasps echoed among Shibuki's men.

"Shisha!?"

"He's back!"

"This can't be happening!"

"Didn't Lord Shibuki say Shisha was injured? And Ajun-san already led a team to track him down!"

"What's going on?!"

The murmurs of fear spread like wildfire through the ranks.

Shibuki, however, took a step forward, his expression stern and resolute. His voice carried above the chaos. "Shisha. Is this your idea of a grand return? Leading mercenaries to Takigakure's gates? Speak—have you come to kill me?"

Shisha's smirk widened. "Well, well. It seems the spineless child has grown a backbone." His tone dripped with mockery. "But your courage is too little, too late. The moment you exiled me, Shibuki, you signed your death warrant. Today, I'll claim what should have been mine from the start."

Shibuki's eyes hardened. "Stop hiding behind excuses, Shisha. We both know the truth. This was never about the good of the village—it's your jealousy. You betrayed Takigakure for power."

Shisha's sneer twisted into a snarl. "Jealousy? Don't make me laugh! You're unworthy, Shibuki. You're a naive boy handed leadership simply because of your bloodline. What have you done for this village? Tell me!" His voice rose with venomous fury. "I've been stronger, smarter, more capable than you could ever dream to be! And yet, the old fools in the council chose you over me. They left me no choice."

Shibuki shook his head, his chakra flaring faintly. "No choice? You allied with outsiders and betrayed your comrades. Elder Mizuno trusted you, and you repaid him with treachery. How can you justify this to yourself?"

"Justify?" Shisha's laughter was cold, cutting. "I don't owe anyone anything, least of all that decrepit old man. And don't waste your breath on lectures, Shibuki. You're outnumbered and outclassed. Surrender now, and I might make your death quick."

A sinister chakra pulsed outward from Shisha, dark and oppressive. The Taki-nin behind Shibuki exchanged worried glances, their resolve wavering.

Menma, perched atop a nearby rooftop, observed the exchange with mild amusement. 'Not bad,' he thought, analyzing Shisha's chakra. 'He's stronger than I expected. I guess that's to be expected from one of Takigakure's elites.'

Shisha stepped forward, his eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, and if you're hoping for Elder Mizuno to come to your rescue, don't bother. I've already ensured he won't interfere. You're alone now, Shibuki."

Despite the ominous declaration, Shibuki stood firm. His voice rang out, clear and steady. "If you want the title of village leader, I'm right here. Face me in a fair fight. If you win, the position is yours. Do you dare to take me on, Shisha?"

Shibuki's chakra surged, radiating strength and defiance.

Shisha froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden challenge. Even Menma blinked in surprise, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. 'Well, this just got interesting.'

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