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Twin Demons. Chapter 22
🕑 Added 2025-09-14 12:57:06 +0000 UTCSummer in Konoha came suddenly. The sun generously bathed the rooftops, shadows grew short and dense, and the Academy kids lost their last excuse for suffering. Exams were over, and once again the Uzumaki twins managed to pull off results the teachers were already calling “almost indecent.” Top marks in every subject, again.
Now Naruko no longer needed to be coaxed into poring over scrolls or cramming kanji late into the night. She’d caught the fire herself: the desire to catch up with her genius brother, not to shame their parents’ memory, and the realization that mental training expanded chakra reserves did the trick. The girl threw herself at textbooks with the same enthusiasm she ran to Ichiraku.
Menma, however, was currently lying on his back in the soft grass near their house, using an old backpack for a pillow. Summer smelled of greenery and something sticky-sweet from blooming trees. He lazily watched the clouds drift across the sky in a slow caravan. The picture looked almost idyllic—if not for the restless gears clicking inside his head.
He had no intention of spending vacation idly. No. For him this was opportunity—a time when the Academy didn’t get in the way. At last he could begin putting his own plans into motion, not just adjusting to teachers’ schedules.
“Brooo-ther!” rang a clear voice.
Menma turned his head slightly. Naruko was walking down the path, dragging none other than Hiruzen Sarutobi behind her. She waved at him as if hauling in a prize catch.
“I managed to pull Grandpa out of his office!” she declared with a triumphant grin.
Hiruzen sighed heavily, lighting his pipe. He looked as though he’d just been talked into jumping into a cold pond.
“She said if I didn’t come, she’d paint the Hokage Rock,” the old man complained, blowing out a smoke ring. “And don’t think you’ll succeed again, Naruko-chan. I’ve already assigned a guard chunin—the Rock is watched around the clock now.”
“Hmph!” Naruko narrowed her eyes, clearly taking that as a challenge. “Then I’ll come up with something new.”
That mischievous fire lit up in her eyes, the kind that usually made adults’ eyebrows twitch.
“So, Menma-kun,” Hiruzen addressed the boy as he reluctantly pushed himself up from the grass. “Your sister insisted I absolutely had to meet you. But in my office it wasn’t possible.”
“Correct,” Menma nodded, casually brushing grass off his clothes. “I need space. It’s simple: I want you to perform a water-style technique. Any one, but low level. The key is—no tricks, straight as a kunai to the target. And do it twice. Both times the technique must be identical: same power, same chakra cost.”
“What unusual demands,” Sarutobi mused, squinting through the smoke. “I can do it. But why would you need that?”
“You’ll see in the process,” Menma smirked briefly.
“Ahh…” the old man shook his head. “You and your sister will drive me to an early grave with these schemes. Well then, watch closely.”
“Wait,” Menma stopped him. “Move slowly.”
He closed his eyes, focusing. The sensory world awoke. In the darkness, the Hokage’s dense, bright chakra flared. The old man was indeed moving deliberately slowly, weaving signs, and then—he exhaled a massive water sphere that crashed into a tree with a roar.
The tree cracked and toppled, leaving behind a soaked stump.
“Aweso-o-ome!” Naruko clapped her hands in delight. “Of course, it doesn’t compare to my rasengan, but still flashy.”
To prove her words, she instantly materialized a spinning blue orb in her palm and smashed it full force into a nearby tree. The wood exploded into splinters.
“You can use Rasengan?!” Hiruzen’s eyes bulged, then narrowed in suspicion. “Kurama taught you, didn’t he?”
“Yep!” the girl confirmed proudly. “Kurama explained it to Menma, and he taught me.”
The old man exhaled loudly, but his own hand was already glowing with a familiar spinning sphere.
“How unfortunate,” he said with a touch of sadness. “I had hoped to pass this technique on to my grandchildren myself.”
“Well, now you’ll have to come up with something else for us, Grandpa,” Naruko shot back slyly, flashing a wide grin.
By then Menma had practically tuned out of the conversation. He crouched down on the grass, scribbling quick notes in his notebook: chakra amount, water volume, discharge density, impact radius.
Finishing the first notes, he pulled scrolls and chakra-conductive ink from his backpack. Right there on the grass, he began sketching a formula.
“Menma-kun,” Hiruzen said in surprise, watching him work. “You’ve taken up fuinjutsu? Why didn’t you say so? I could have found you a mentor.”
“That makes no sense,” the boy replied without looking up from his calligraphy. “The basics are easy to study from books. And no teacher will ever share their signature style, no matter how much you pay.”
“You’re right about that,” Hiruzen nodded. “Personal techniques rarely leave their families. But you could have asked me. We’re almost family, after all. I have no secrets from you.”
[Yeah, sure. Like you’d really show me Edo Tensei or Hiraishin.]
“And still—what are you trying to do?” Hiruzen crouched beside Menma with a quiet creak of joints, peering over his shoulder at the scroll. His seasoned eyes were enough to catch the gist. A faint crease on his brow showed interest rather than alarm. “Hm… Sealing a technique? Where did you get this formula?”
“We told you already, Grandpa!” Naruko burst out, stamping her foot indignantly. “Kurama told us about the Uzumaki clan’s specialties!”
“I remember,” the old man nodded, eyes still fixed on the neat but slightly hesitant ink lines. “But you didn’t say Kurama shared this kind of detail.”
“Because he didn’t,” Menma cut in calmly. “He only explained the general idea. The rest I tried to reconstruct with my own hands.”
[No way I’m telling him I have access to Mito Uzumaki’s records. Way too risky. If the old man finds out about the temple basement, he’ll stick his nose in immediately. And I’ve got very different plans for that place.]
“Interesting,” Hiruzen murmured, taking a deep drag from his pipe. “But you’ve overlooked something: you didn’t account for the water’s temperature.”
Menma lifted his head, narrowing his eyes slightly.
“You think that’s critical? It’s water, not fire.”
“True, but fuinjutsu stability sometimes depends on little things like that,” Hiruzen countered calmly, scribbling a few quick notes directly into Menma’s notebook. “I wouldn’t ignore it.”
The boy froze for a second, then wordlessly crumpled the started scroll and pulled out a fresh one. His fingers glided over the paper again, this time with greater confidence, the ink flowing into graceful sealing patterns.
The old man watched not as a Hokage, but as an old academy professor spotting a sharp mind in a student. From time to time he offered brief but truly valuable remarks: how to remove clumsy redundancies, where to replace three complex symbols with one, how to smooth the chakra flow.
[Damn it… No matter how much I hate him for what he did to me and Naruko… I have to admit: the old man’s brain is ironclad. You won’t find another mind like his in Konoha.]
Half an hour passed unnoticed. For Hiruzen and Menma—in the spirited clash of two intellectuals. For Naruko—in pure torture. She lay in the grass doodling with a stick, then hopped around trying to get attention, then sighed loudly. No one reacted.
“Done,” Menma finally said, scanning the last lines of the seal. “Now we can test it.”
Hiruzen nodded and slowly formed the hand signs, creating the familiar water sphere. The next moment the technique struck the seal dead center.
Menma immediately pushed chakra into the ink—exactly the same amount Hiruzen had used. For an instant the air trembled, and—
Poof! The water vanished, absorbed straight into the paper.
“It worked…” Menma froze, then his lips twitched into a rare, genuine smile. “It really worked!”
“Don’t celebrate too soon, Menma-kun,” Sarutobi warned, narrowing his eyes. “We don’t yet know if the seal works in reverse. Let’s check.”
“Finally!” Naruko shot up and, without waiting for further instructions, snatched the scroll from her brother’s hands. “My turn!”
She pressed her palm to the seal and released chakra. The scroll flared—then the water sphere burst out of the paper and slammed into a tree. The tree cracked and toppled to the ground just like after the Hokage’s strike.
“Impressive,” Hiruzen murmured, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “You’ve learned to seal techniques. But the real question is—what do you plan to do with this knowledge?”
“Obviously open our own fuinjutsu shop!” Naruko announced instantly, glowing with enthusiasm. “We’ll seal techniques and rake in piles of money!”
“Not so fast,” Menma shook his head, fixing his eyes on Hiruzen. “We invited you here for advice.”
The old man smirked, but his expression shifted at once. The deep lines of his face hardened, and his voice turned cold.
“You did the right thing, Menma-kun. You carry Minato’s wisdom,” he placed a hand on the boy’s head. “And that is precisely why I forbid you from spreading this new skill.”
The twins flinched: for the first time, there was a threat in Hiruzen’s voice. His gaze grew harsh, almost cruel.
“But… why, Grandpa?” Naruko’s voice trembled. She took a step back, feeling for the first time not warmth from the old man, but cold.
“Because such knowledge could get you killed,” Hiruzen snapped, pulling deeply on his pipe and exhaling. “Or worse: not only you, but the entire village could die. Sealing techniques is a weapon of colossal power. The moment you reveal this secret, the balance of the world will collapse. The Fourth Shinobi World War would begin that very day.”
The twins exchanged glances. For a heartbeat, everything around seemed to fall silent—even the cicadas held their breath.
Then the old man softened a little, his voice regaining its usual warmth.
“You can open a fuinjutsu shop,” he said. “More than that—I’ll personally handle the advertising. You’ll always have customers. But you must sell only standard products, nothing beyond that.”
“So we’re supposed to forget about our talent?” Menma frowned, gripping his brush tighter.
“No,” Hiruzen countered firmly. “You must keep developing. But only in secret. This is not a toy. Tell me instead, Menma-kun—how many such scrolls are you capable of creating?”
The boy tilted his head, thinking for a moment.
“It depends on the rank of the technique,” he replied. “If it’s A-rank, then about once a day.”
[Actually more. But why show all my cards right away?]
“So you and your sister can seal up to two techniques a day,” Hiruzen concluded, exhaling a puff of smoke and narrowing his eyes. “In that case, here’s my proposal: every day I’ll personally come here. We’ll seal two techniques. You won’t even need to bother with formulas—I’ll handle that. All I need from you is activating the fuinjutsu with your chakra.”
Menma scowled but kept silent. Naruko, as always, was the first to voice the obvious:
“Two techniques a day?” she scratched her head, eyes going wide. “In a couple of years you’ll have a mountain of scrolls! What do you need so many for?”
“I’ll distribute them to Konoha’s most loyal shinobi and my bodyguards,” Hiruzen answered as though it were the only logical option. “Their effectiveness will multiply many times. Naruko-chan, you don’t want your grandpa to get killed, do you?”
“Of course not!” the girl flailed her arms, staring at him in genuine horror.
[Cunning monkey. He’s already squeezed emotion out of Naruko and secured her agreement. With me it’ll be harder. I’m not leaving this idea to fate: opening a shop without Hokage’s blessing is a death sentence. Sealing techniques in secret is even worse—the first time they’re used, the truth comes out, and then relations collapse for good. And ignoring talent? That’s just idiocy. That’s why I showed the Hokage what I can do. The richest, most influential client you could ever find. The only question is the price.]
As if reading his thoughts, Hiruzen went on:
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking for free scrolls,” he said gently. “I’m willing to pay generously for each one.”
The twins exchanged glances. A mischievous spark lit up in Naruko’s eyes.
“Nope, Grandpa,” she drawled with a smirk. “You can’t buy us with just money.”
“Hm?” Hiruzen’s brow rose. “Then what do you want?”
“Techniques of our Uzumaki clan,” Menma said calmly, but his eyes bored into the old man’s, as if testing his reaction.
“I understand your desire to inherit your ancestors’ legacy,” Hiruzen nodded, taking another drag. “But unfortunately, all Uzumaki techniques were destroyed along with Uzushio.”
Menma crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly.
“Then give us the Senju techniques—our relatives’,” he pressed. “And before you say their district also vanished, let me remind you: Tsunade is alive. She wouldn’t have left empty-handed—surely she kept something from her elders.”
“If only it were that simple…” Hiruzen sighed heavily. “I can’t bring her back to Konoha. Tsunade is far too busy.”
[Busy, yeah. Just say it straight—she’s off drinking.]
“Then let your partner Enma help,” Menma went on the offensive. “Kurama told us that during the Nine-Tails’ attack, Enma knocked him back while transformed into an adamantine staff. And Mom bound him with adamantine chains. That means Enma has a definite link to both Uzumaki and Senju.”
Hiruzen studied the boy closely, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Good observation, Menma-kun,” he admitted. “I can’t promise anything about Enma, but I’ll try to persuade him to train you.”
[Look at that… turned his basic duty into a grand favor.]
The old man tapped his pipe and spoke again, now in an official tone:
“In addition, I promise to begin searching for unique techniques from the Senju and Uzumaki clans. Let’s set the terms: for every three hundred scrolls, you’ll receive one technique.”
He extended his hand, and in his eyes danced that sly spark that made it clear—the Hokage had already calculated everything.
“So, do we have a deal, little businessman?”
Menma held the pause. Then he firmly shook the offered hand.
“Deal.”
[Best offer I could hope for. And the terms… terms can always be renegotiated later.]
///
A few days later, deep in Konoha’s administrative compound, a group rarely seen together gathered. A secret council room—windowless, dimly lit by a single ceiling lamp, with echoes bouncing off stone walls.
At the heavy round table sat four people whose decisions meant life or death for hundreds: Hiruzen, Danzo, Homura Mitokado, and Koharu Utatane.
Hiruzen laid a neatly rolled scroll on the table, tapping it lightly with his fingers before speaking with a smirk:
“Remember when you suggested relocating the Kyūbi into a new vessel? You wanted to waste such potential… ” He unrolled the scroll, revealing a seal containing an A-rank fire technique. “We’ll arm Konoha’s most loyal shinobi with these scrolls, and not even a clan alliance will be able to shake the village’s power.”
Koharu and Homura perked up almost in unison, clamoring to echo Hiruzen’s words like two crows on a branch.
“Brilliant, Hiruzen!”
“This will give us undeniable advantage!”
Only Danzō sat motionless, his single eye narrowing.
“Old friend,” he said slowly, reluctantly conceding, “you were right. The Uzumaki twins are indeed valuable. Perhaps their fuinjutsu talent should be used to break seals on enemy prisoners for interrogation.”
“No,” Hiruzen cut him off, striking his flint to relight his pipe. “I don’t want to expose the children to the true darkness of the shinobi world. Otherwise they’ll become too… cynical. Much harder to control. Right now, with their naïve childhood dreams of reviving the Uzumaki clan, I prefer them as they are.”
Danzō’s lips curved into the shadow of a smile.
“Better if you gave them to me. After my training, they would become unfailing weapons.”
“No,” Hiruzen’s voice turned colder. “They would become brainless zombies. Menma has Minato’s mind, and that must be put to use.”
“You did the same with Orochimaru,” Danzō reminded him, eyes fixed on him.
For a moment the air in the room grew heavy, like before a storm.
“And he was useful for a full forty years,” Hiruzen countered, blowing a cloud of smoke aside. “I expect Menma and Naruko to serve Konoha for no less.”
A pause followed. Each was lost in their own thoughts: Danzō of power, Koharu and Homura of profit, and Hiruzen of how to keep control without losing the children’s trust.
Koharu was the first to break the silence:
“I don’t mind you decided to tutor the twins in fuinjutsu. They might invent something useful. But why did you promise them Senju techniques?”
Hiruzen looked at her calmly, as if the question were naïve.
“Is that a problem? Everything valuable we already secured long ago. And as for what requires a unique genome…” He shrugged. “Let them study. Someday they’ll use it. For me.”
Comments
Thirteen
I like how hiruzen is portrayed in this story.
