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Time flowed like water. When training in the Sage Arts—years passed without notice.
"To master the ultimate art, you must endure what others cannot~ Master Manji loves his oolong tea~ and his favorite color is crimson red~"
"Good morning, Master!!!"
Bright and early, Gamamaru was perched atop a boulder, belting out a song at the top of his lungs.
The instant he spotted Manji emerging from his quarters, he bounced over excitedly.
"Gamamaru—what the hell are you screeching about at this hour?"
Manji took one look at the toad's morning concert and his expression went dark.
Gamamaru had been living next door for roughly three or four years now.
In that time, the two had become inseparable—one man, one toad, sharing a home. Gamamaru had officially taken Manji as his master.
At first, the little toad had been timid and well-behaved. But once he got comfortable? The boasting began in earnest.
"Hehe—Master, isn't that the song you always sing? You belt it out every time you're training or taking a bath! Oh, and Master—what's 'crimson red' supposed to mean?"
Gamamaru hopped alongside Manji, chattering away without pause.
"Alright, alright—enough questions. Sometimes knowing too much isn't a good thing. Come on, Gamamaru. Let's go."
Manji pulled on his red-and-black training robes and led Gamamaru to a mountain summit—beginning another day of training.
His current focus: fusing the Sage Arts of Mount Myōboku, the Ryūchi Cave, the Shikkotsu Forest, and the Monkey King Clan into a single, unified system.
A Sage Art that combined the best of every tradition.
The process required painstaking, gradual harmonization.
It would be slow—agonizingly so. But Manji didn't mind.
He had all the time in the world.
'Time is a blade that cuts down prodigies—but I intend to measure myself against time itself.'
"It's going fast…"
Manji stood atop the peak in his red-and-black robes, gazing out across the horizon.
These past years had been devoted entirely to fusion training. The progress was glacial—but acceptable.
"Master—why do you push yourself so hard every single day?"
Gamamaru peeked out from Manji's shoulder, watching the Myōboku sunrise paint the sky.
Manji smiled faintly. "Because there's a very powerful, very dangerous woman out there."
"Whoa... stronger than you and Lord White-Brow?"
Gamamaru gasped.
Manji gave a slow nod. "That woman consumed something that made her extraordinarily powerful. She's achieved an immortal body. I can't beat her alone."
"However… I might be able to make use of her two sons."
He fell into quiet contemplation.
Hagoromo and Hamura Ōtsutsuki.
He hadn't visited them in years... Cautious as always, Manji had kept his trips to the human world to a bare minimum—only venturing out to grab livestock, vegetables, and fruit.
Because there was absolutely no way he could stomach Mount Myōboku's "gourmet cuisine."
"By now, those two should be around three or four years old…"
"And with my current concealment abilities, I don't even need the cloak anymore."
Manji focused his intent—and his presence simply vanished. No aura. No chakra signature. As if he'd ceased to exist entirely.
This was a technique he'd reverse-engineered from the Triple Snake Princesses' abilities in the Boruto era.
"Master? Master?? Where'd you go??"
Gamamaru whipped his head around, staring at empty air.
Manji rematerialized, scooped up the little toad, and grinned. "Come on—let's go take a look at that woman's children."
And with that, they left Mount Myōboku.
.....
Kaguya Ōtsutsuki stood alone, gazing silently at the sky.
Worry gnawed at her—the fear that the Ōtsutsuki Clan would eventually discover her betrayal.
For the next few decades, she was safe. But in a few centuries? They would know. Before that happened, she needed to prepare her White Zetsu army.
"I wonder how strong my sons will be in a few hundred years… Will they be enough to repel them?"
Her gaze drifted toward the distant lakeshore, where Hagoromo and Hamura were playing.
With the entire world locked under the Infinite Tsukuyomi, there was no danger to worry about.
Kaguya planned to eventually release some humans from the genjutsu. After all, a world without people posed its own problems.
She intended to be the God of the World—not the God of a wasteland.
.....
By the lake—
"Hahahaha! Hamura—catch me if you can!"
"Hagoromo, stop running! Mother told us not to wander too far!"
Two toddlers chased each other across the grass.
Both had fair, porcelain skin and small, budding horns atop their heads.
Hagoromo and Hamura Ōtsutsuki.
[Note: Hagoromo is the Sage of Six Paths. Hamura is the younger brother. This clarification is included because the two names are easy to mix up—the author himself originally thought Hamura was the Sage of Six Paths and Hagoromo was the one on the moon.]
"See them, Gamamaru? Those are that woman's children."
Manji stood beneath a canopy of leaves, watching the brothers play in silence.
"Master! I've got an idea, this is the perfect opportunity! We should kidnap those two and use them as leverage against that woman!"
Gamamaru's eyes gleamed with scheming ambition.
"Yeah—let's shelve that plan permanently."
Manji sighed. No wonder the Sage of Six Paths ran circles around this toad in canon. Not exactly the sharpest kunai in the pouch.
(In the original story, Gamamaru foresaw the future and sought out the Sage of Six Paths, hoping to manipulate him into opposing Kaguya. The Sage saw through the scheme immediately—but since he already opposed his mother's tyranny, he played along, learned Sage Arts, and turned against Kaguya on his own terms.)
.....
Kaguya appeared before her sons with silent grace.
"Hagoromo, Hamura—time to come home."
Her voice was impossibly gentle.
"Mama!!!"
The two boys latched onto her like a pair of clingy little cubs—arms wrapped tight around her neck, small heads nuzzling against her shoulders.
"Mommy—last night you said Mister Manji could summon talking toads and a monkey that turns into a staff. Is that really true?"
Hagoromo clung to Kaguya's arm, round eyes sparkling with wonder, his tiny horns wobbling with every excited bounce.
Hamura nodded vigorously beside him, tugging at Kaguya's sleeve with soft, pudgy fingers. "And the paper talisman that brings people back from the dead—is Mister Manji really that amazing?"
Kaguya's steps faltered—just barely. Her fingertips brushed through her children's soft hair, and the tenderness in her eyes shimmered like moonlight on still water—though somewhere in their depths, an unmistakable shadow of sorrow flickered past.
"Yes—Mister Manji was the bravest, most remarkable person in the whole world."
"He once fought terrible monsters to protect this very land. He helped people who were in trouble. And he helped your mother, too—he was my greatest benefactor."
Her voice was warm. Careful. Deliberate.
She didn't mention the betrayal in the bamboo forest. She didn't mention the Chakra Fruit they'd fought over. She certainly didn't mention the All-Killing Ash Bone she'd driven through his chest—or the sleepless nights that followed.
She shaped the story of Manji into something pure—an invincible hero, a legend preserved in the amber of time. As if by doing so, she could lighten the crushing weight of guilt that still pressed against her heart.
The silhouette of mother and children slowly disappeared into the distance.
.....
"Master! Master! She really knows your name! And she made you sound like a superhero!"
Beneath the dappled tree shadows, Gamamaru leaped off Manji's shoulder, flailing his front legs with excitement. "Did you see that?? Those two kids practically worship you!"
"..."
Manji stood motionless, his red-and-black robes lifting gently in the evening wind.
He watched the direction Kaguya and her sons had vanished, his expression unreadable and deep.
He understood perfectly well why Kaguya told stories about him.
That guilt—hidden beneath her tender smiles—pricked at his awareness like a needle. Not quite pain. More like a quiet, exquisite irony.
Once, they'd clashed in a bamboo forest—weapons drawn, lives on the line. And now he'd become the bedtime hero she used to lull her children to sleep.
"A hero, huh?"
"She always did have a talent for storytelling."
Manji murmured, so softly the wind nearly swallowed his words. A faint curve touched his lips—something between mockery and something far more complicated.
Gamamaru tilted his head, confused. "Master—aren't you happy? She made you sound incredible!"
Manji slowly pulled his gaze back from the horizon and looked down at the bouncing little toad. The depth in his eyes gradually receded, replaced by a cold, crystalline clarity.
He reached out and ruffled Gamamaru's head. "Happy? No. I just realized… this game of chess might be even easier to play than I thought."
He recalled the awe in Hagoromo and Hamura's eyes at the mention of "Manji." He recalled the careful tenderness—and the buried guilt—in Kaguya's voice as she told the story.
That guilt was Kaguya's weakness. And the children's adoration of "The Hero Manji" was the wedge he could drive home.
Turning mother against sons never required swords or bloodshed.
Sometimes, a glorified legend—a single name echoing through the years—was enough to plant a crack deep in the heart.
And when the dark truth finally surfaced…
Beneath every beautiful story lay the real feast—a banquet of mutual betrayal. Kaguya betrayed Isshiki. The Emperor betrayed Kaguya. Kaguya betrayed Manji. Everyone stabbing everyone in the back, round and round.
"Let's go, Gamamaru."
Manji turned away. His figure blended seamlessly into the surrounding forest, his concealment technique flowing as naturally as breathing—as if he'd never been there at all.
Gamamaru scrambled to keep up, bouncing along behind him, still chattering. "Master, so what do we do next? Should we sneak closer and listen to what stories she tells?"
Manji didn't look back. His stride never faltered. His voice drifted along the evening breeze—unhurried, deliberate, carrying the calm authority of a master strategist.
"No need. All we have to do is wait. Wait for those children to grow up. Wait for their worship of 'Manji' to become doubt about their mother's lies—and when that day comes… that's when we make our move."
The evening wind swept across the lake, scattering the distant manor's lamplight into shimmering fragments on the water's surface.
Manji's figure dissolved into the depths of the forest, leaving only the fading patter of Gamamaru's footsteps and a trail of innocent questions—slowly swallowed by the gathering night.
And back inside the manor—
Kaguya sat at her children's bedside, gently patting their backs, beginning to tell the story she'd so carefully crafted—the tale of the brave and noble "Hero Manji"…
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