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Twin Demons. Chapter 62
🕑 Added 2025-11-12 21:36:06 +0000 UTCKarin looked at Menma as if he had just stabbed her in the heart with a kunai. Her face showed a mix of hurt, confusion, and quiet despair.
"Can I advance to the third round?" Her voice trembled as if she’d just finished a long run. "You said they’d pit me against someone strong… There’s no way I can win..."
"That was before my sister and I withdrew from the exam," he replied in a lecturing tone, tilting his head slightly as if explaining something obvious. "So, the spot representing the Uzumaki clan is open again. Use your chance."
Karin blinked, opened her mouth, but Menma didn’t let her finish — gently yet firmly cutting her off.
"Not every participant is a genius or a jinchūriki," he continued with a faint smirk. "I’m about fifty percent sure they’ll let you fight someone easier."
Karin flushed.
"Fifty percent?!" she snapped, glaring at him in outrage. "That’s not a chance, that’s mockery!"
Menma shrugged.
"In the worst case, you can just forfeit," he said philosophically, and was about to add more when Anko’s cheerful voice burst through the loudspeakers with a crackle:
"Eyes on the board! Next match: Inuzuka Kiba versus Kankurō from Sunagakure!"
Kiba instantly lit up as if his victory had already been announced.
"Easy win!" He clenched his fist and flashed Hinata a grin. "Don’t go far, I’ll be right back!"
"Of course," Shino said flatly. "All participants are forbidden to leave the tower until the exams conclude."
"Buzzkill," Kiba muttered, rolling his shoulders as he strode confidently down.
Kankurō, meanwhile, descended from his stand, carrying on his back a strange bundle that looked suspiciously like a corpse in a sack.
Menma closed his eyes and focused; his sensory ability hummed with a faint tingling in his temples. The real Kankurō had already swapped himself for a puppet. Classic. He opened his eyes and glanced at Hinata. She stood calmly, hands folded in front of her, face serene — clearly she’d already warned her teammate.
[Looks like that team also has two straight-A students (Shino and Hinata) dragging a loudmouth along.]
Down in the arena, Hayate was coughing like he might drop dead any second, but still managed to raise his hand.
Meanwhile, Naruko was half-hanging over the railing, yelling at the top of her lungs:
"Kick that Kankurō’s butt! You can do it! You’re the best!"
Sakura and Ino exchanged glances. Their faces said it all: she’s insane.
In the Academy’s unofficial girls’ ranking — where boys were rated on a ten-point “cuteness” scale — Kiba usually sat somewhere in the middle: “kind of cute, but loud.” But the moment Naruko shouted, his confidence shot through the roof.
He puffed out his chest, flashed his teeth.
"Naruko-chan, I’ll take him down with a single hit!" He struck a pose, flexing his arm. "Just watch!"
"Shut up, idiot!" Naruko barked. "I was talking to Akamaru!"
Menma snorted into his fist, and Sakura and Ino burst out laughing outright. They even gave Naruko a thumbs-up — in their ranking, Akamaru easily held a perfect ten out of ten.
From inside Kankurō’s bundle came a muffled chuckle.
Kiba froze, blushing as red as a tomato.
"Oh, that’s how it is?!" He stomped his foot, fuming, and pulled Akamaru off his head. "Then watch! I’ll handle this myself!"
He tossed the pup right into Naruko’s arms. She just smiled happily and began petting him between the ears.
Hayate sighed heavily, watching the chaos unfold.
"If everyone’s done talking..." he said in the tone of a man utterly done with life and stepped back. "Third match, begin!"
Kiba shot forward instantly, baring his teeth.
"I’m not my partner Shino! I won’t tell you to surrender!"
[Why warn your opponent about your tactics? Shino used chatter to stall for time in his match, but Kiba’s just showing off.]
On the opposite balcony, Yūhi Kurenai exhaled tiredly and looked up at the ceiling, silently praying for patience. Kakashi, Asuma, and Yamato exchanged looks of wordless sympathy. Only Gai failed to see the issue of having a loudmouthed genin in the team and yelled across the arena:
"Such splendid fighting spirit, young Inuzuka! The flame of youth burns brightly!"
Meanwhile, Kiba had already dropped into a feral stance. Chakra flared on his claws — a bluish glow stretching out, turning his fingers into deadly blades. He spun into a whirlwind — the Gatsūga technique now looking like a spiraling drill of chakra.
It was over in a blink.
Kankurō’s puppet didn’t last a single strike — a crack, a thud, and splinters scattered across the arena. The real Kankurō, hidden inside the bundle, didn’t even have time to curse before he was slammed into the wall and slid down, unconscious.
"Match over," Hayate croaked, coughing. "Winner: Inuzuka Kiba."
Medics quickly carried off the limp Kankurō, while Kiba, beaming, climbed back up to the stands.
"Ha! Told you, one hit!" he started to say — but stopped.
Not a single girl was looking his way. Not even Hinata. They were all crouched around Naruko, who was putting on a show with Akamaru — the pup jumping on his hind legs, spinning, chasing his tail, while the girls clapped and cheered.
"Wha—no way... they were supposed to watch the fight!" Kiba blanched.
Shino silently walked up, rested a hand on his teammate’s shoulder, and said calmly:
"You should have foreseen this outcome when you left Akamaru with them. He’s the most popular guy here."
Sasuke, overhearing that, made a sound suspiciously close to a chuckle.
Kiba let out a sharp whistle, and Akamaru, clearly unwilling, jumped out of Naruko’s hands and trotted back to his owner.
"Buzzkill," Naruko snorted in his direction.
The giant screen flickered with pixels, and new names appeared a second later:
Nara Shikamaru vs. Tsuchi Kin.
"Troublesome," Shikamaru muttered his trademark phrase right away, yawning and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Maybe I should just stay here and get disqualified. My skills aren’t really for direct combat."
He lazily glanced around at his friend's, as if expecting someone to back up this “brilliant” idea. His eyes stopped on Menma, like he was the only one who might actually agree.
Naruko noticed the exchange of glances and slowly smiled — that kind of smile, the one that made people start praying.
"Shikamaru," she said sweetly, her voice calm but dangerous, "I’ll throw you down there myself. And I’ll make sure a kunai follows your butt on the way."
"I’ll help," added Ino, folding her arms and putting on her most serious expression. "I won’t let a member of my team surrender without a fight."
"Troublesome," Shikamaru groaned as if he’d been sent on a year-long mission, but still dragged himself toward the stairs, walking like a man heading for execution.
Halfway down, Hinata quietly stopped him.
"Shikamaru-kun," she whispered. "Your opponent has senbon with bells in her pouch. They’re used for auditory genjutsu."
He looked at her, a hint of life in his eyes. "Appreciate it," he said with a short nod. "You just saved me a few minutes of headache."
The two opponents stepped into the arena and faced each other. Hayate, as usual, coughed like a dying man, then managed to rasp out, "Begin!"
But no one moved.
"Damn, what a drag..." Shikamaru rolled a senbon between his teeth like a toothpick. "I hate fighting girls. It always causes problems later."
"Then let’s make it quick," Kin smirked, leaning forward slightly. Her eyes gleamed with confidence and excitement.
"If you sa—" Shikamaru began but didn’t finish.
The senbon flew from his lips with a sharp whistle, slicing through the air like a bullet. His opponent didn’t even have time to react — the metal pierced her neck clean through. Kin gasped, clutching her throat, and collapsed.
For several seconds, half the spectators didn’t even understand what had happened. Ino froze with her mouth open — she clearly hadn’t expected that kind of power from her lazy teammate. Hayate blinked, coughed, and finally managed to croak:
"Winner — Nara Shikamaru."
Asuma gave a low whistle, clearly pleased with his student’s success.
Medics rushed in and carried off Tsuchi Kin. Judging by the twitch of her fingers, she was still alive.
Shikamaru was slowly climbing back up, looking more tired from the idea of moving than from the actual fight.
Sasuke, standing beside Menma, glanced down and said quietly,
"Beautiful. Simple movement, perfect execution. I heard Shiranui Genma can defeat full-fledged jōnin with just senbon. Looks like Shikamaru’s following the same path."
Menma nodded. "Another proof that a C-rank technique mastered to its limit beats a dozen flashy A-ranks."
When Shikamaru reached the balcony, Ino ran up to him, eyes shining.
"That was… freaking awesome! But if you ever point that senbon at me — I’ll rip your hair out!"
Shikamaru just gave a lazy smile and leaned against the railing, as if the whole thing had been an annoying misunderstanding.
The screen changed again.
Haruno Sakura vs. Temari of Sunagakure.
"Whoa!" Kiba yelled with a goofy grin. "Girl fight!"
First came Hinata’s disapproving look, then a slap to the back of his head from Ino, and finally Naruko stomped on his face.
"Whasht that for?!" Kiba groaned from the floor.
Temari and Sakura stepped onto the arena, facing each other. Temari looked her opponent up and down — from head to toe, pausing on the shiny pink hair. A smug grin spread across her face.
"Little girls should play with dolls, not pretend to be ninja," she said in that irritatingly superior tone. "If you surrender now, I won’t hurt you. I can tell you came here for that boy," she added lazily, nodding toward Sasuke. "Cute, by the way. I think you’ve impressed him enough — you can go."
Sasuke covered his face with his hand, as if none of this concerned him.
Sakura, who had stood still until now, narrowed her eyes.
"I see no reason to fear you," she said coldly. "I didn’t notice you lift a finger in the Forest of Death. Your little brother did all the work for you."
Temari’s smirk cracked, but she quickly composed herself and folded her arms over her fan.
"At least I don’t spend all my time brushing my hair," she scoffed. "You waste more effort on it than on training — that’s why you’ve already lost. Don’t blame me if you can’t handle this fight."
"Yeah, yeah, you’re so scary and strong that you’ve spent two minutes trying to talk me into surrendering," Sakura shot back, crossing her arms. "Maybe that fan’s just for show?"
"You’ll find out right now!" Temari snapped, flaring with anger. She swung her fan open a third of the way — a purple circle gleamed against the white fabric.
The air around them began to hum, and dozens of invisible chakra blades shot toward Sakura.
The pink-haired kunoichi formed the seal of concentration. Her hair lifted as if alive, lengthening and swirling around her body, forming a spiked cocoon-like fortress. The blades slammed into it—and shattered, leaving only scratches on the concrete.
Chōji let out a low whistle. "Whoa. I thought I had the best defensive technique in our generation."
Temari frowned. "You’ve forced me to show the first moon," she declared, raising her fan again. "You won’t survive the second."
"I believe you," Sakura replied dryly. "I’m trembling in fear already, really."
Temari growled, snapping her fan fully open. "Second moon!"
A whirlwind of chakra tore across the arena. The gusts kicked up dust and tore loose bits of stone. Sakura held her position, forcing her hair to drive into the concrete for stability. Cracks ran along the walls, but her dome didn’t budge.
From the stands came Sasuke’s calm voice:
"Useless. Even my fireball couldn’t break through that pink fortress."
Naruko added with a sly grin, "Well, of course! You just spat out some flames and called it a day. But for us girls, hair is sacred. That’s why Sakura-chan’s defense is impenetrable."
Sasuke gave her a look like she’d just revealed the secret of the universe.
Temari was losing her patience fast.
"Third moon!" she shouted.
The fan swept upward, fully open now, slicing the air. A mini-tornado crashed against Sakura’s defense—to no effect. The pink cocoon still stood strong.
Temari vanished. She reappeared midair behind Sakura, hovering on her fan, kept aloft by another wind technique.
"What’s the point of that defense if you can’t move?" she smirked. "Now, my brother’s defense—"
Her words cut off. The fan suddenly ripped apart, as if slashed by an invisible blade. Temari barely had time to react before something unseen grabbed her leg and slammed her hard into the wall.
Knockout.
"Winner — Haruno Sakura," Hayate announced.
Sasuke gave a quiet, approving smirk.
"What was that just now?" Ino blinked. "I didn’t get a thing!"
Menma had no such questions. His sensory abilities made it clear — from Sakura’s “cocoon,” countless microscopic strands of hair stretched across the entire arena. She used them to map the space, feel her opponent’s movements, and attack by touch. If she kept refining that technique, within a few years her hair would protect her the same way sand protected Gaara.
Menma smirked to himself.
[Thanks to the gifts Naruko and I handed out, our classmates are crushing everyone today. But honestly? Sakura’s the most fun to watch. In canon she was dead weight—now she’s top tier.]
"Your flower’s finally bloomed," Ino said with a proud smile when Sakura approached. "But don’t get cocky! I’ve been training too."
"I’ll be looking forward to your match," Sakura replied, adjusting her pink braids. "Help me fix my hair?"
"You didn’t even need to ask."
The rest of the girls immediately joined in, eagerly helping to braid her pink locks.
On the screen, new names appeared: Tenten vs. Gaara.
[Yeah, that’s a loss waiting to happen. Kinda feel bad for her, though.]
Tenten, wearing her pink top and twin buns, faced Gaara. Her movements were graceful and precise—kunai and shuriken rained down like a storm, but everything vanished into the sand wall.
She didn’t give up. A scroll unfurled in her hand, glowing with a spiral seal that unleashed a torrent of weapons. But Gaara’s sand cocoon remained unshaken.
Tenten reached behind her back and drew two more scrolls.
"Dragon Dance!"
They flew into the air, spinning into a double spiral that spewed a blizzard of blades—kunai, fuma shuriken, kusarigama, senbon… yet the sand didn’t move.
When Gaara raised his hand, the sand surged into a wave.
Tenten screamed, "Proctor! I surrender! I can’t beat him!"
"You tried to kill me," Gaara said coldly. "Now mother will see your blood."
The sand wave crashed down—but a green blur flashed forward: Maito Gai. In the next instant, all the sand was blown back with a single strike.
A Suna jōnin jumped down, hissing something at Gaara to calm him.
"The opponent has surrendered! Further attacks are forbidden!" Hayate called out loudly. "Winner — Gaara of Sunagakure!"
"What an idiot," Naruko muttered, watching him leave. "Sakura-chan, you’re way cooler. And your defense too."
Sakura smiled softly. No one argued. Nobody liked Gaara anyway.
The screen flickered again, showing the next names:
Uchiha Sasuke vs. Rock Lee.
