"Splash, splash, splash!"
Menma ran like his tiny life depended on it. Water kicked up around his feet as he dashed through the sewer-like tunnel, heart racing in his chest. He didn't stop, didn't look back—he only stopped when his feet touched dry ground again. Collapsing to his knees, he gasped for breath, arms trembling, eyes flicking over his shoulder as if expecting a giant claw to follow.
Still panting, he tried to push himself upright on wobbly legs.
"Red energy, my ass. 'It's safe,' they said... Who said that?! That thing's a beast! No, it's a monster! I've had that sealed inside me all this time?! What kind of pediatrician has arms long enough to do this to a baby? I swear—next time I see a long-armed anything, I'm running. No questions asked. If I can't run... then it's war! One of us is going down!"
(The author pauses to mourn for a certain white-haired Sannin whose hobbies include sneak attacks and neck-stretching: "….")
"Haaah… Okay. I need to leave. But how? I didn't see an exit. Maybe… maybe I need another drill. Like the one I imagined earlier. Come on, Menma. Big drill. Fast drill. Sharp head. Strong handle. Think!"
…Nothing.
"Damn it… Come on… Just give me something! I'll take a screwdriver at this point—please!"
No luck. Defeated for the moment, Menma decided to head back… the other way. The way of the beast.
His foot landed in ankle-deep water again. Suspicious and cautious, he crept forward. The enormous chamber slowly came into view—complete with that towering, chakra-leaking monster behind iron bars.
And as if on cue, the moment their eyes met, Menma turned right around and sprinted back.
Kurama: "..."
He didn't even get a chance to monologue.
But the boy came back. Again. And again. Like a stubborn rubber ball that couldn't bounce in any other direction. Each time Menma peeked, saw the fox, then ran like his soul was on fire.
Kurama's patience? Running on fumes.
Elsewhere in the real world, Snow had just woken up. She stretched her limbs gracefully, blinking her beautiful blue eyes and turning toward the lump that should've been her Big Cat. Still not awake? Odd. He usually groomed her fur first thing in the morning. With a meow and a pout, she settled back into the warm covers. "If he's not combing my tail, I'm not getting up. Royal protocol."
...
Back in the seal, Menma had accepted it.
He was stuck.
Sighing heavily, he lay flat on his back, staring at the tunnel's ceiling. "I'm not even two years old yet. What kind of cosmic joke is this? Can't I just… I don't know… have a nap in a warm lap or something?!"
Then he thought of the fox. Again. It had to be the key. Probably the only way out.
"I have to try. But if it eats me, I swear I'll haunt whoever put this thing inside me."
Maybe… maybe he could bring them back to life just to haunt them better?
"No! No forbidden jutsu thoughts! Don't be stupid, Menma. You've seen Final Destination. Cheat death, and you die harder. Don't even think about resurrecting Mom... or the long-armed monster."
Deep breath. Determined footsteps. Back toward the beast.
This time, he walked straight to the gate.
Kurama, having long given up on his dramatic entrance, simply lay there.
Menma bowed respectfully, eyes firm but respectful. "Hello… Mr. Fox."
Kurama raised his massive head. This time, he allowed his chakra to pour from the bars—not maliciously, but enough to make the air thick and oppressive. For most, this would cause immediate panic or an involuntary chakra flare. But Menma's body… just absorbed it. Like a sponge in a desert.
Kurama's eyes narrowed.
This brat had been nibbling his chakra since infancy. Even now, the seal pulled it in like a greedy piglet. He gathered more chakra, prepared to roar—at least scare him.
But when he looked again…
The brat was gone.
"...…"
Kurama's chakra flared, raging in fury. He shook the cage, howled at the seal—
And the seal greedily slurped up the rest like it was a free buffet.
Kurama collapsed onto the floor. "I give up," he muttered. "This brat doesn't fear, doesn't listen, and now even my chakra has abandonment issues."
He turned his head, closed his eyes, and waited.
Maybe next time, the kid would stay long enough to hear a single sentence.
---
Back in the real world, Snow had finally gotten her beloved groomed headpats and was now pawing at Menma's face, begging to go outside.
Menma blinked. "Ah, Snow… You're awake?"
"Meow."
He laughed, scooping her up and kissing her cheek. "You're my best partner, Snow! My queen!"
"Meeeow!"
"Okay, okay, I went too far again."
She huffed, puffing her fluffy tail. Menma giggled.
"Let me grab your little cotton paw pads, okay? I'll carry you for our evening run."
He buttoned up his jacket, tucked her snugly inside, and stepped into the snow with his warmest smile of the day.
After all, no matter what monsters lurked inside him…
He had his Snow. And she never roared, only meowed.
What a happy evening it was.
---