Naruto: I'm in Konoha, my name is Uzumaki Menma

Chapter 160 An Invitation from the Organization

Kabuto is too mature; he thinks too much about Nono Yakushi at such a young age.

Everything he meticulously constructed, his voluntary dedication, his forbearance, the dark path for which he paid the price with his soul...

It turns out that from the very beginning, it was built on deception and cruel conspiracy!
He's such a complete fool!

Not only did they fail to protect the dean, they became accomplices who pushed her into an even deeper hell!

The little Menma stood quietly on the water not far away, her dark eyes looking at Yakushi Kabuto who was on the verge of collapse, without urging him or offering any comfort.

That calmness beyond his years became an invisible pressure at this moment.

"Kabuto, I told you I would help you." Menma spoke again only after Kabuto's roars and sobs gradually turned into low, desperate whimpers. His voice was still clear and calm, but it had a penetrating power.

Kabuto abruptly raised his head, lifting his tear-blurred glasses to stare intently at Menma, his eyes brimming with the desperate, dying hope of someone grasping at a last straw: "You... why did you..."

Menma's words carried a heavy weight: "I've joined the organization. Currently, I'm working undercover in Konoha."

"During this time, I learned of Danzo's plan. So I pleaded with Lord Shura to save her life and secretly transferred her to the Land of Stars."

His dark eyes stared directly into Kabuto's devastated eyes: "But if you can't join the organization and pledge allegiance to Lord Shura..."

The rest of the words were left unsaid, like a cold, sharp blade hanging overhead, abruptly cut off.

But the implications are self-evident.

The life or death of Yakushi Nonou will no longer be guaranteed.

silence.

Above the starry water, only deathly silence remained.

Dou's heavy breathing was amplified infinitely in the absolute silence.

He looked at the five-year-old child in front of him, at the unfathomable calm in his dark eyes.

The overwhelming amount of information and the stark contrast in his identity left him almost unable to think.

organization?

Is Menma an undercover agent for Shura's mysterious organization in Konoha?

Why would Shura look at the little boy named Shangma?
Is there anything special about him?
But all the doubts, all the weighings, all the fears became insignificant in the face of those empty brown eyes and the image of the dean gazing tenderly at the "stand-in" in the photograph.

Dean Nono is still alive!

This is his only light!

The switch to this light is in the hands of that "Asura".

His overwhelming hatred was directed at Danzo, who had used him as a pawn, and at Konoha!

And it seems that only one path remains before us.

Without the slightest hesitation.

The collapse and reconstruction of one's inner self are completed in an instant.

Kabuto suddenly raised his hand and fiercely wiped away the tears and disheveled state of his face with his sleeve.

He straightened up, and although he was still trembling slightly, the disguise of a spy and the cowardice of "Kumamoto Kabuto" in the depths of his eyes had completely disappeared, replaced by a cold and resolute look of someone who had been driven to the brink and was now making a desperate gamble.

He stared directly into the dark, calloused eyes, his voice hoarse yet unusually clear, each word seeming to be squeezed from the depths of his soul:

"I'll join."

He paused, then added, with an almost humble, final plea.

"But... let me see her. Let me... recognize the dean."

He needed confirmation, confirmation that the dean still "existed," confirmation that the light wasn't just another illusory lure. Menma watched him quietly, her small face expressionless.

After a moment, he slowly nodded.

"I will relay your request to Lord Shura."

As soon as she finished speaking, the small, pockmarked figure began to blur and become transparent, like a reflection in water tossed with a pebble.

The vast, boundless starry waters and the dazzling Milky Way around us began to fade and peel away rapidly, like a painting that had lost its color.

The cold, stoney feel suddenly returned to my feet.

The pungent smell of miso soup, the musty smell of the stone walls, the lingering anger of the guards, and the worried gazes of his companions.

The sounds and smells of the real world flooded back into the senses like a tide.

Kabuto remained squatting on the ground, still clutching the pottery shard stained with soup in his hand.

He shuddered violently, as if he had just been pulled from deep water, gasping for breath. His forehead was covered in fine cold sweat, and his clothes on his back were soaked through, clinging to his skin with a cold, sticky sensation.

"Kabuto! Are you alright?" Hazuki Murahashi's concerned voice rang in my ears, filled with deep worry.

She and Morishita Toshito had cleaned up most of the stains, and a new miso soup container was placed aside.

Xia Ri stood a few steps away, her gaze fixed intently on him, filled with scrutiny and inquiry.

That was all an illusion!

The time spent in the illusionary world felt like only a moment in reality.

The stinging sensation from touching the cold, ceramic shards with your fingertips is incredibly realistic.

The heavy thud of the iron gate deep inside the prison area sounded incredibly real.

But what's more real are those photos clearly imprinted in my mind, Menma's dark and calm eyes, and the words, "I will report this to Lord Shura."

Kabuto took a slow, deep breath.

The murky, cold air of the prison ward rushed into my lungs, bringing a stinging pain, but also a strange, chilling clarity.

He raised his head, his face struggling to piece together, bit by bit, the panicked, self-reproachful, and clumsy expression that belonged to "Kumamoto Kabuto".

This time, however, something deep within those eyes behind the lenses shattered completely, only to be replaced by something colder and harder.

"No...it's alright, Hazuki." His voice still had a slight, barely perceptible hoarseness, but he had tried his best to regain his usual gentleness.

"I felt a little dizzy just now, probably because I was too nervous." He said as he slowly stood up, his movements a little stiff, as if he was readjusting to his body.

He squatted down, picked up a clean rag, and began to silently and vigorously wipe away the last remaining stains on the floor.

The movements are mechanical, yet they carry an almost obsessive focus.

The salty, sticky smell of miso soup stubbornly penetrated his nostrils, mingling with the coldness of the stone walls and the air of despair.

This nauseating smell, at this moment, acts like a brand, clearly marking the boundary between reality and that starry, watery surface.

It also marked a turning point in his life.

The Root spy named Yakushi Kabuto is dead. What survives is "Kumamoto Kabuto," who takes his first step into the unknown darkness amidst the ruins.

He wiped away the stains on the ground, as if he were wiping away everything from the past.

Dean Nono's empty eyes and the gentle smile in the photo flashed alternately in his mind, eventually turning into a cold, piercing force that supported him to keep going.

He waited, waiting for that response.

(End of this chapter)