Vetrax
patreon
Twin Demons. Chapter 27
🕑 Added 2025-09-23 21:36:16 +0000 UTCFive months had passed since Maito Gai decided to devote himself to secret training sessions with Lee. For Menma and Naruko, that meant only one thing: now they had to build muscles without a fanatical overseer who shouted about the Power of Youth every minute.
And, funnily enough, training without a personal coach turned out to be not only manageable — but actually much more pleasant. Nobody yelled in their ears that “a true warrior must carry five pine trunks on his shoulders.” Nobody dragged them to the outskirts of the village to slog through mud in the rain while hauling boulders the size of houses. Now the twins had their own training ground — neat, well-kept, with targets, makiwara posts, and even a miniature obstacle course. And boulders had long since been replaced with neat fuinjutsu tags: just slap a seal with stored weight onto your leg, and there you go — twenty kilos, two hundred, take your pick.
Of course, without supervision, training would quickly slide into “let’s do it tomorrow.” So Gai’s place was taken by… a clone. Menma’s shadow clone, who after four years under his command had learned the role of personal trainer better than any fitness instructor. That strict double counted reps, corrected stances, and, unlike the original, never gave in to Naruko’s pleading “let’s finish early.”
“Enough. Training is over for today,” the clone declared flatly before dispersing, returning chakra to its owner.
The twins, who at that moment were doing upside-down push-ups, collapsed onto the grass in sync, as if switched off. Fuinjutsu slips tore free from their soles, dropped nearby, and sank into the ground, leaving neat little dents.
Menma and Naruko lay sprawled, gasping for air. Their lungs burned, muscles shook, eyes were hazy. It felt like if they blinked a moment too long, they’d never open their eyes again. If Gai were here, he’d surely announce that “only on the verge of death does youth temper itself.”
“I’m about to die,” Naruko rasped, her tongue slurring like a drunkard’s. “We need medicine, fast.”
“Me too,” Menma answered, forcing his breathing steady. “But I’m not getting up. Bury me here.”
“Then I’ll save us,” his sister declared with tragic flair, trying to push up on her elbows. She swayed — and fell chest-first onto her brother.
The impact was brutal: Menma’s insides twisted so hard he almost lost his breakfast.
“Perfect,” he groaned. “If your plan was to kill me, you nearly pulled it off.”
“What are you waiting for?” Naruko’s eyes burned with stubborn fire as she loomed over him like a stern statue. “Let’s do it!”
Menma was about to reply with sarcasm, but she didn’t give him the chance. She leaned in and, without hesitation, spat right into his mouth.
A green glow of chakra spread through the boy’s body, banishing pain and exhaustion in an instant. Muscles stopped aching, tendons stopped burning, his breath evened out. Energy surged through him as if someone had poured a liter of vitality straight into his veins.
“You’re disgusting,” he muttered, gently laying his sister on the ground and taking the upper position. “But since we started, let’s finish.”
He repeated the procedure. Naruko flinched in disgust, but when the same green glow lit her body and her fatigue melted away, she sighed in relief.
“Ugh, gross,” she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, but her eyes shone with victory. “But it works. I’ll endure it for this.”
“Me too, sister,” Menma nodded. “Though we could end up as characters in Jiraiya’s next book.”
Blushing, refreshed, and nearly glowing, they were about to head home when a green figure suddenly leapt out of the bushes.
“Greetings, little Uzumaki!” Maito Gai hovered for a heartbeat before landing with arms spread wide. His eyebrows gleamed in the sunlight. “The Power of Youth still burns within you!”
[Oh, Shinigami, not this Youth sermon again.]
Gai swept his gaze over the training ground: shattered targets, mangled makiwara posts, torn-up grass. His smile only grew brighter.
“But why do you still resist wearing my suit?” he continued, striking a model’s pose. “It’s mankind’s greatest invention! Elastic! Aerodynamic!”
“Hey, Bushy-Brows,” Naruko planted her fists on her hips and rudely cut him off. “What are you doing here? Tell the truth — did you finally decide to teach us the Eight Gates technique?”
“Uh… no,” Gai visibly deflated and quickly turned his eyes to Menma, clearly seeking rescue. “But I did fulfill your request! I learned everything about paired fighting styles!”
Menma raised an eyebrow. [Well, damn, I thought he’d forget. Then again… Gai, forgetting about training? Now that would be truly impossible.]
“That’s news,” Menma smiled. “Let’s go inside. You can tell us over tea.”
“I prefer outside!” Gai declared with utmost seriousness and plopped right down on the grass, cross-legged.
Menma gave a restrained nod and sat across from him. Naruko settled nearby, looking as if she were already anticipating some cool new jutsu.
“All right,” Menma said. “Talk.”
And Gai began to speak. His voice dropped low, serious, stripped of its usual flamboyance — not a teacher now, but a true taijutsu master sharing secrets.
“Paired fighting styles exist all over the world, though they are rare,” he began. “Every duo has its own strengths and weaknesses. In Konoha, the best example is our Hokage and his monkey partner. You know of them. In Kumo, the Raikage combines his power with a jinchūriki for decapitating strikes. In Kiri, there are brothers who wield a chain as if it were part of their bodies. In Iwa, the previous Tsuchikage created a perfect copy of himself and fought alongside his double. And in Suna — a puppeteer whose movements merged with his puppet.”
He listed them one after another, as if unveiling a map of the world filled with dangerous and strange duos.
[Holy crap. He really gathered a whole library of examples. That means he dug deep. He’s definitely moving in the right circles.]
“Wow,” Naruko was the first to find words, her eyes blazing. “You mean… we’ll have to learn all of that?”
“I don’t have detailed instructions,” Gai admitted, his voice unusually grave. “But my qualifications should be enough to recreate at least half of those styles from the descriptions.”
The twins exchanged glances. From Gai, they usually expected anything: grand speeches, hymns to Youth, random handstands… but not cold analysis.
“Nevertheless, I propose something else,” he continued.
And to both their astonishment, the Green Beast suddenly dropped to his knees and bowed low. His palms pressed into the grass, his forehead nearly touching the ground.
“Please!” he exclaimed, his voice full of genuine plea. “Allow me to create a unique paired fighting style for you! It would be my honor to help the children of the Fourth Hokage!”
[Well, look at that. Gai’s a Minato fanboy. Though really, why am I surprised? Half of Konoha worships our father. The other half is still bringing flowers to his grave.]
Menma weighed his response carefully. He knew well that gestures like this weren’t made lightly. But in Gai’s eyes shone true admiration and loyalty — no pretense.
“Of course, we’d be glad to accept your gift,” he said at last, and immediately heard a muffled sob.
Gai… had burst into tears. Two honest streams of happiness ran down his face.
“I’ll also ask the Hokage to help you,” Menma added, pretending not to notice the tears. “If he knows all of Konoha’s techniques, then perhaps he also holds knowledge of fighting styles from other lands.”
[And besides, taking such ‘gifts’ without the old schemer’s knowledge is dangerous. He’d decide right away that the leash on our necks is slipping.]
“To work alongside the Hokage himself!” Gai’s eyes shone so bright it seemed they might blind someone. “What an honor!”
He wiped his tears and suddenly straightened, as if ready to unveil a revolutionary idea:
“I already have a draft! You see, half the mentioned styles require tremendous physical strength. Like the Raikage’s, for example. And I thought… what if we draw on the legendary strength of Tsunade! I heard she’s your guardian. Perhaps she would help?”
“No problem!” Naruko shot up a thumbs-up as if the matter were already settled.
[Yeah, right. I highly doubt it. That drunkard is our guardian only on paper.]
///
A week passed.
In front of the shrine that had long since become their workshop, the twins finished another batch of work. The last seals sank into a scroll, and with a soft clap it snapped shut.
“Three hundredth!” Naruko proudly lifted the scroll over her head and, without hesitation, hurled it at the Hokage standing opposite. “Mission accomplished! Hand over a new technique!”
The old man deftly caught the scroll with one hand, while the other still held his smoking pipe.
“I always keep my word, Naruko-chan,” he said without changing his expression. “Enma told me he taught you everything he knew. Is that true?”
Instead of answering, the twins raised their hands, and sparks of adamantine chakra lit up on their palms. From it extended thin chains tipped with sharp points. They hissed through the air, writhing like snakes before weaving together in a synchronized dance.
“Magnificent control of adamantine,” Hiruzen released a smoke ring, his gaze fixed as if beholding a work of art. “Even better than your mother’s.”
[Definitely better than Enma’s. Let’s just hope gramps doesn’t decide we’re a threat to his chair.]
“In that case, you should be able to master this,” Hiruzen said, tossing them a scroll marked with the Hokage’s seal.
Menma caught it and narrowed his eyes.
“What is this?”
“The Rashōmon Gates,” the old man announced proudly. “A technique of Hashirama Senju. Officially ranked B, but in the hands of adamantine users, it becomes a solid A-rank.”
“Awesome!” Naruko jumped up and started running circles around the Hokage. “With this, we’ll be the coolest genin in the whole village!”
“That’s exactly what I expect from you,” the Professor smiled, pleased with their reaction. “I had to dig through all of the First Hokage’s records to find it.”
“Gramps, you’re the best paper-fighter ever!” Naruko declared with genuine joy.
Hiruzen choked on his smoke.
[Mhm. He gave us a technique that won’t even protect against genin, and pretends it’s some great blessing. But you can’t argue — it really does belong to the Senju.]
Menma sighed and carefully tucked the scroll away.
“If you’re out of ideas for the next technique…” he began. “I’ve got a request.”
The Hokage raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“I’m listening, Menma-kun.”
“I need Tsunade’s Strength Enhancement technique,” the boy said plainly, holding his ground under the heavy stare. “She’s a Senju, and the technique is unique. By the terms of our deal, it qualifies.”
Hiruzen exhaled a puff of smoke, feigning thought.
“I agree it falls within the contract, but…” he said slowly. “I don’t possess that technique myself. And my student is far too busy to return to the village and train you personally. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
[The old liar. One order would be enough to drag Tsunade back to Konoha by the scruff of her neck. But no. It’s more convenient for him to keep her away and feed us promises.]
“Gramps, do you know taijutsu well?” Naruko asked innocently, switching to plan B.
“I’m renowned as a ninjutsu master,” the old man stroked his beard smugly. “But I know a thing or two about taijutsu. Why do you ask?”
“Bushy-Brows wants to create a unique fighting style for us, but he needs help,” she blurted out with enthusiasm. “Gramps, help him! We want ass-kicking nin-taijutsu to be cooler than the Raikage!”
Hiruzen fell into thought. His eyes narrowed as though already weighing risks and rewards.
“An interesting challenge,” he said at last. “I think I’m ready to take on this project.”
“I never doubted you, Gramps!” Naruko shot a finger up, her smile radiant.
“But only after you deliver another three hundred scrolls,” he added, and there was steel in his voice. “Everything must be fair.”
[Greedy old monkey. Never misses a chance to profit, even when pretending to be a kind grandfather.]
And somewhere nearby, in the shadows, a white snake slithered once again. Silent, unseen, it watched.
Comments
Thirteen
Tyftc
