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Twin Demons. Chapter 30
🕑 Added 2025-09-26 22:06:16 +0000 UTCMenma slowly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. White. Clean, sterile, a little gray from old paint. A familiar sight. He had seen this place before—the very same hospital ward where he’d stayed three years ago, when they layered more fuinjutsu into his seal to keep the Kyuubi from throwing a fireworks show.
The same walls, flat and dull, with peeling paint near the door. The same first-floor window letting in the morning light. The same feeling of a foreign place, where the air was saturated with medicine and sterility. On the bed next to him—his sister, curled up, eyes closed, breathing softly.
And yet… something had changed. No, the ward itself was the same—it was him who was different.
The walls seemed uneven, rough; he could see the tiniest cracks and irregularities in the plaster. The metal frame of the bed gave off a sharp smell of iron, so strong he could almost taste it on his tongue. A cool draft seeped in through the window, carrying with it sounds from outside: the creak of a blade of grass under a crawling beetle, the faint flutter of wings from a fly passing by.
His senses were sharpened to the point of absurdity. Menma could swear he’d be able to count the legs on that fly if he wanted to. At first it stunned him, and then it brought a strange kind of pleasure.
Like he’d been watching movies all his life on an old, fuzzy grandma’s TV, and now someone handed him a brand-new Full HD plasma. Sharp, bright, perfect.
[So these are the beastly perks Orochimaru promised Mizuki in canon. Only the poor idiot worked five years to get them, while I got mine for free. Now that’s the advantage of a rare profession on the job market.]
The girl on the neighboring bed stirred and stretched sleepily. The first thing that caught the eye were her claws. Long, sharp, gleaming—enough to leave marks on a tree. When she yawned, her fangs flashed, longer and sharper than before. The dark whisker-marks on her cheeks had grown thicker, clearer, as if painted with a sharp brush. And in those familiar blue eyes now gleamed something wild—a vertical slit in her pupils gave her gaze a dangerous yet mesmerizing edge.
Menma was certain the same thing had happened to him.
“Brother,” Naruko covered her mouth with a hand, though her eyes sparkled, “you look hilarious!”
“You’re no better yourself,” Menma snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
“What happened to us?” Naruko sat up on the bed, glancing around. Her voice trembled—not fear, but clear unease. “How did we end up in a hospital? The last thing I remember is eating Uzuramen… I was even whining that the sauce wasn’t spicy at all. And then suddenly—pain. Everything spun, and then it’s a blur.”
Menma gave a short nod.
“I don’t get it either,” he lied calmly. “Woke up just a bit earlier than you. But I think they’ll explain soon.”
His sister smiled faintly—understanding, as always. Their shared sensory skills told them the same thing: there was already someone waiting in the hallway.
And the next second, a man appeared in the doorway. White coat, long black hair, eyes—colorless, cold, with a Byakugan.
“You’re awake,” he stated. “Do you want food?”
The twins exchanged glances.
“Not now,” Menma answered evenly for both of them. “First tell us how we got here.”
“I’m not authorized to say,” the Hyuuga admitted in a flat tone. “The Hokage will answer your questions. For now—get dressed. We need to run some tests.”
They quickly changed out of hospital gowns into their usual clothes: black shorts, green T-shirts with the red Uzumaki swirl on the back. Just like that, the feeling of being themselves returned, instead of lab specimens.
As they went through the rooms, Menma studied the hospital closely. At first glance—an ordinary place: lines, annoyed patients, tired doctors. But the details gave it away. Instead of machines—fuinjutsu scrolls, instead of X-rays—the cold scrutiny of a Byakugan peering straight through the body.
“Bones reinforced, muscles denser,” the doctor murmured after the exam. “Mutation affected the whole organism. Comprehensive changes.”
He didn’t explain further. Just wrote something in the folder and added:
“That’s all. Let’s head to the cafeteria.”
Lunch turned out surprisingly decent. Even Naruko, who usually grimaced at hospital food, was stuffing her cheeks with enthusiasm. When they returned to their ward, both of them almost simultaneously caught the smell. Sharp, clinging, tobacco.
Inside, just as expected, sat Hiruzen. The old man had settled on a stool by the bed, pipe in one hand and a book in the other. But the moment the twins walked in, he closed it and smiled his tired smile.
“Hi, Gramps!” Naruko waved cheerfully, happy to see him. “You did bring gifts for the patients, right?”
“I wish I had your endless optimism,” Hiruzen chuckled and pulled a box of chocolates from his pocket. “Help yourself, Naruko-chan.”
With a delighted squeal, she jumped onto the bed, tore open the box, and began munching the sweets with such enthusiasm that anyone else in the room would’ve started drooling.
Menma sat across from him—calm, unhurried. He didn’t even twitch at the smacking sounds nearby, too used to them by now. Fixing his gaze on the Hokage, he said:
“The doctor said you’re the one with the answers. We’re waiting.”
The old man sighed, released a thin stream of smoke, and looked at them with tired eyes.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” he said slowly. “There was an assassination attempt on you. By a jōnin from Iwa.”
The room fell silent. Naruko froze, a candy tucked in her cheek, while Menma frowned.
[An attempt? So Orochimaru kept his word. We got the upgrade, and Konoha has no official claims against us. A beautiful move. Very beautiful.]
“The assassin underestimated your survivability,” Hiruzen said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime. “You survived, but… you changed. And that’s my fault. I failed to protect you.”
The already gray and wrinkled elder seemed to crumble right before their eyes. His gaze dulled, his shoulders sagged, and for a moment it looked like they weren’t sitting in front of the Hokage, but a broken old man suddenly too weary to carry the world on his shoulders.
“Gramps, don’t blame yourself!” Naruko immediately waved her hands, as if shooing away his heavy thoughts. “Better check out my new eyes! I look amazing now, don’t I?”
She grinned wide, showing off her fangs, and poked a finger at her vertical pupil.
Menma glanced sideways at his sister and couldn’t help a snort.
“I doubt we’ll have problems talking to people,” he said evenly. “We already stood out with whisker marks. Now there’s just more of the fox in us. People are used to it.”
Hiruzen smiled faintly, though the sadness never left his eyes.
“Thank you for trying to comfort me,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t erase my responsibility. As Hokage, I swear: as long as I live, nothing like this will ever happen again.”
[He plays this role so well I almost forget what kind of schemer I’m really sitting across from. Almost.]
Hiruzen took another drag from his pipe, let out a cloud of smoke, and shifted the subject:
“The doctors say your health is fine. But I want to be certain, so you’ll stay here three days under observation.”
“But…” Naruko started to protest, but the Hokage raised a hand and she fell silent.
“Besides,” the old man’s voice grew firm, almost official, “I forbid you from speaking about the attempt. This is classified, ANBU-only information. To everyone else, you’ll say the changes came from the Kyuubi’s influence. Understood?”
The twins nodded in sync.
“Gramps,” Naruko’s trademark foxy grin spread across her face, “since we’re stuck here anyway, how about you toss us a jutsu scroll? Otherwise we’ll die of boredom.”
[My clever little fox! Already pressing on his guilt. I’m proud. Too bad she’s playing against the old monkey.]
“Naruko-chan,” Hiruzen pretended to ponder, “of course I could give you a scroll ahead of schedule. But then what? You’d get spoiled. Careless. On a mission, you’d slip up from laziness—and die. My heart would shatter. No, I can’t allow that. So there’s only one way—hard work. Make three hundred scrolls, and only then you’ll earn a new technique.”
Menma grimaced.
[See? Told you he’d wriggle out of it. Old monkey.]
“Well then, I won’t distract you further.” Hiruzen rose from the stool, adjusted his hat, and headed for the door. “Your friends are waiting outside. And Naruko-chan, I’d suggest washing your face before meeting them. Chocolate on your cheeks doesn’t make the best first impression.”
“Ehh—” Naruko dashed to the mirror and began scrubbing furiously with a wet rag.
Meanwhile, Hiruzen left, carrying with him the smell of tobacco and the weight of his words.
Her timing was perfect—the door slammed open, and their best friends spilled inside like a noisy flock of birds.
“Iruka-sensei said you missed class because you were in the hospital!” Ino rattled off, pushing through the boys. “What happ—”
The words died in her throat. She stared at the twins as if seeing them for the first time. The others quieted too, taking in the claws, the fangs, the feral eyes.
Kiba was the first to speak:
“Uh… Naruko, you… you look great,” he scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered. “Actually… prettier.”
“Oh, so you like me?” Naruko drawled slyly, stepping toward him. “You know, I’ve always liked you too.”
Kiba flushed and stammered:
“I… uh… I mean…”
Naruko reached out, grabbed the puppy from his head, and hugged it to her chest:
“I was talking to the most handsome guy in the academy—Akamaru!”
Kiba collapsed on the spot. Sasuke snorted with unmistakable satisfaction. Shikamaru muttered lazily:
“Well, that was too obvious…”
Sakura gave Naruko two big thumbs-up.
“So what exactly happened?” Choji asked, opening a bag of chips and casually edging closer.
Menma briefly recited the prepared tale about the Kyuubi’s influence. Ever since Minato’s will had been read aloud, the academy kids already knew the twins were jinchūriki, so there was none of that stupid canon-style drama.
“Your eyes aren’t scary at all,” Ino said, settling on the bed next to Naruko and studying her with curiosity. “They’re exotic. With eyeliner, they’ll look absolutely stunning.”
“Your hair is so thick,” Hinata hesitantly touched a lock. “I have a shampoo at home that’ll make it shiny.”
“And I’ll take care of your claws!” Sakura chirped, pulling out a nail file. “Let’s give you a manicure!”
Naruko gave them a look like she’d just been sentenced to torture.
On the boys’ side, the conversation went in a completely different direction.
“Anything besides your looks change?” Sasuke was the first to ask, narrowing his eyes. “Did you get stronger?”
Menma smirked and lazily flexed his bicep, hard as stone.
“What do you think? We can test it right now.”
The suggestion sparked excitement among everyone present. Even usually calm Shino raised an eyebrow, though he said nothing. Choji perked up while munching chips, and Kiba was already grinning eagerly. Only Shikamaru stretched out on a stool, pretending to be bored.
“Ugh, you guys are such a pain…” he grumbled. “Can’t we go a single day without competitions?”
“Slacker,” the others chorused.
A couple of minutes later, the entire boys’ crew was climbing out the ward’s window. Below was a convenient little area with benches and tables for visitors—empty at this hour.
“First, a race,” Menma suggested, scratching a crooked starting line into the dirt with a stick. “Route’s simple: to that white building and back.”
He pointed across the courtyard.
“Deal!” Kiba took his position, Akamaru barking excitedly at his side.
“Go!” Menma shouted.
They shot off together. Air sliced through their lungs, the ground felt springy beneath their feet, and their muscles responded with an ease that surprised Menma. To his pleasant surprise, he was pulling ahead. Easily. And this despite Kiba being the class’s fastest sprinter, heir of the Inuzuka clan.
“Don’t think you’ll pass me that easily!” Kiba growled and dropped to all fours.
His body shifted, movements turning animalistic, fast. Beast Mimicry Technique. His speed spiked so sharply that he nearly caught Menma. Nearly—but the head start was enough for Menma to stay in front.
[So my speed’s on par with Kiba’s. Orochimaru promised I’d surpass him. Figures—never trust a maniac’s word.]
“I’ve never seen anyone run that fast on all fours!” Rock Lee shouted, eyes blazing. “In the name of Youth’s Power, I shall run a thousand laps around the hospital on all fours too!”
“You need to be an Inuzuka for that technique!” Kiba tried to explain, but it was too late.
Rock Lee had already dashed off, pushing with arms and legs, face lit with delight.
“You know that freak?” Sasuke muttered with disgust, watching the green whirlwind.
Menma shrugged.
“Lee’s not all there in the head. But don’t forget—he’s the student of Kakashi’s rival. If I were you, I wouldn’t underestimate him.”
The Uchiha frowned, then gave a curt nod and stopped glaring at Lee with contempt.
The next contest was against Choji. Arm wrestling. The big guy sat across from Menma with shining eyes and planted his elbow on the table.
“Ready?”
“Always.”
They locked hands. A moment later, Choji’s hand was slammed onto the tabletop.
“Whoa…” Shikamaru cracked one eye open. “Even Choji…”
Menma only shrugged.
[Not time to celebrate. Choji’s the physically strongest in class, but he’s not using his clan’s real techniques yet. That’s when we’ll see who’s who.]
Shikamaru suggested a shōgi match to test mental skills. Menma was interested, but the others protested against such a boring competition. The game had to be postponed for another day.
Kiba then challenged Menma to a smelling contest.
“First one to figure out where that grilled meat smell is coming from!” the Inuzuka declared with excitement.
Menma sniffed the air… and immediately knew he didn’t stand much chance. Kiba and Akamaru pinpointed the source faster and pointed at the right window in unison.
“Ha!” Kiba lifted his head proudly. “Not your match here!”
“Never intended to be,” Menma snorted. “Your nose is your trump card.”
[And thank Shinigami for that. Gotta leave the guys something, or else friendship goes sour. Nobody likes it when you steal their signature move.]
At that moment, Sasuke stepped closer, activated his Sharingan, and his eyes flared crimson.
"Your eyes have changed," he said quietly. "You said you see more clearly now. Can you see chakra?"
Menma paused for effect, then smirked.
"No. And I can’t copy your moves either. So sleep easy, Uchiha."
Sasuke’s face showed obvious relief.
By evening, visiting hours were over, and the nurses drove all outsiders out beyond the hospital gates.
Menma parted with the boys easily and returned to his ward. Naruko, on the other hand, the girls wouldn’t let go so easily—they dragged her all the way to the gates, chirping about hair care, ointments, oils, and other “life-saving tips.”
Menma savored the silence. Settling into bed, he was reading the annotation on the book Shino had brought him when the door creaked softly. A young man in a white coat entered: ashen hair, glasses, a gentle smile.
Yakushi Kabuto.
"Menma-kun, I promise I won’t take much of your time," his voice was soft, ingratiating. "It’s a standard medical survey. Just one question: did you like Orochimaru-sama’s gift?"
He didn’t have to fake surprise—his eyes practically bulged on their own.
[Is Kabuto an idiot? Who in their right mind talks about this in the middle of a hospital?]
But Kabuto seemed to read his reaction and quickly added:
"Don’t worry about surveillance. The hospital belongs to my father. I know every blind spot, every dead zone. For a few minutes, we’re safe from the old politicians and their spies." His smile didn’t waver. "So? Did you like Orochimaru-sama’s gift?"
Menma tilted his head slightly, keeping his face neutral.
"Acceptable."
"I’ll relay that word for word," Kabuto nodded. "If you’d like to speak with Orochimaru-sama, you can do it through me. I’m on hospital duty on odd days, nine to five. But it’s better to meet in the park—I take a walk there every evening." He gave a slight bow. "I must take my leave."
"Wait." Menma raised a hand. "I already have something for you to deliver."
Kabuto’s glasses caught the light, and his gaze sharpened.
"Tell Orochimaru this: if he can solve our problem with the Kyūbi—so that my sister and I can use its chakra without risking our lives—then we’ll accept his offer."
A thin, almost servant-like smile spread across Kabuto’s face.
"The message will be delivered. But don’t expect a quick answer. Orochimaru-sama enjoys pondering scientific problems."
With that, he slipped out as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Menma remained seated, staring at the closed door.
[Well, there it is. Threw a baited hook to yet another manipulator. Let’s see what kind of fish swim up from these murky waters.]
Comments
Jan
I have more exotic romance planned 😈
Thirteen
Tyftc
Kurupt
Hope the romance of the twins develops soon
