The Valley of the End was quiet.
Water fell like it always had.Heavy. Relentless. Eternal.
But something was missing.
No birds.No frogs.No echoes.
Just the slow, cold breath of stone statues watching each other.
Madara. Hashirama.
Two gods carved into time.
And below them—A third figure stood.
Not made of stone.
But still carved by history.
Menma.
He stared at the water.
Didn't blink.Didn't move.
Behind him, the others waited.
The mute boy.The one with stitched lips.The scarred one.The cracked glasses.The silent machine.
They didn't speak.
This was his moment.
This was his memory.
Because it happened here.
Not the death.Not the war.
The decision.
The moment Naruto stopped being a boy with dreams—And became the thread that held the dream together.
Menma stepped into the river.
The same water that once drowned hatred.The same current that failed to carry their burden away.
He reached into the water.
Felt something.
Stone.
Not from the statues.
Deeper.
He pulled it out.
A piece of black rock.Carved faintly with a single spiral.
The Uzumaki mark.
Forgotten.Dropped.Covered by moss and time.
A piece of a grave that was never finished.
Because Naruto never got a monument.
No grave.No tablet.No statue.
Just a name that vanished from the stone.
Menma clenched the piece.
Blood ran from his palm.The stone cut deep.Didn't matter.
The wound glowed.
Golden.
He turned.
Held it up.
The others saw it.
And each of them—Dropped to one knee.
Without a word.
Not in worship.
In promise.
That the boy who never got remembered—
Would be.
Not by name.
But by what he left behind.
Hope.Change.A reason to keep moving forward.
Back in the Leaf, the scroll pulsed again.
The seal bled onto the walls.
Kakashi drew new lines around it.Anchored it.
Tsunade stood beside him.
"He's moving."
"He's waking."
"No… He never slept," she said.
In the Land of Iron, samurai marched.
In the Mist, a child drew spirals on every wall.
In the Sand, Gaara watched the wind carry threads through his window.
And in the Land of Sound—
Kabuto fled into the dark.
Because he heard footsteps.
Golden ones.
Soft.
Impossible.
Coming closer.
Somewhere… between life and chakra, between memory and soul—
Naruto stood.
Not fully there.Not fully gone.
Watching.
Smiling.
His jacket fluttered.His hair spiked.His eyes—closed.
Waiting.
A voice behind him whispered:
"You ready to come back?"
He didn't answer.
But the world shook.
Just a little.
Because soon—
The stitch would pull tight.
And everything broken…
Would have to choose:
Mend.Or tear.
—End of Chapter 101—