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Twin Demons. Chapter 20
🕑 Added 2025-09-06 13:06:08 +0000 UTCAfter another murderous “wellness run” under the guidance of the Green Beast of Konoha, Menma sprawled out on the grass, opening and closing his mouth in silence like a fish thrown ashore. Each breath tore out in a wheeze, as if he’d just tried to outrun a tornado.
[So this is what hell looks like. No—worse. At least in hell you can lie down without someone yelling “Power of youth!” in your ear.]
He barely managed to twitch his fingers; anything more was far beyond his strength.
Naruko, already dosed with her medicine, leaned over her brother. Pursing her lips, she let a thin thread of saliva trail down… straight into his half-open mouth.
Menma didn’t even protest. He swallowed automatically—like a drowning man grabbing at a stick. The taste was vile, but a moment later his body was wrapped in the familiar green glow of healing energy. A warm wave coursed through his muscles, washing away fatigue and torn fibers.
“Alive again!” Menma shot upright, then leapt to his feet as if he hadn’t been dying a minute ago.
“You know,” Naruko drawled with a sly gleam in her eyes, “that saliva exchange is basically the foundation of kissing?”
She pressed a hand theatrically to her chest and sighed like a heroine from some cheap romance play.
“You could say you’ve already kissed a hundred times. And you’re only in the second year of the Academy! Even Jiraiya can’t boast feats like that.”
Menma snorted, mirroring her smirk.
“Well, you’ve got the same record. A hundred kisses by second year. The real question is—what will you grow into with such a life résumé?”
“Obviously, a legend,” Naruko lifted her chin proudly. “Jiraiya will write a book about me.”
They both laughed, and under their playful bickering the twins slowly headed home. Evening air filled the streets, and Konoha’s noise gradually faded.
But someone was already waiting at the gate. A dark-haired boy stood there, wearing his usual scowl. Their former neighbor, now their gloomy friend—Uchiha Sasuke.
“We need to talk,” he said flatly, without even trying to sound friendly.
“Sure,” Menma answered calmly, walking right past him into the shrine. “I’m hungry, so let’s talk in the kitchen.”
Sasuke ground his teeth but followed.
Soon the boys were seated at the kitchen table. Menma lounged with one leg over the other, while across from him sat tense, focused Sasuke. Meanwhile, Naruko busied herself washing fruit at the sink, humming to herself.
“I dug up some info on Kakashi,” Sasuke began, fingers laced together. “Did you know he has a Sharingan?”
Menma arched a brow and smirked.
“Well, who could’ve guessed? A guy nicknamed ‘Copy Ninja, Sharingan Kakashi’ actually has a Sharingan. A real revelation, Sasuke.”
Sasuke’s cheeks twitched almost imperceptibly.
“Did you find out where he got it from?” Menma didn’t draw out the silence, reaching for a bowl and grabbing an apple.
“Yeah.” Sasuke’s voice was overly businesslike, like he was reading a mission report. “It was given to him by Uchiha Obito. There’s almost no info, but I found out his name is inscribed on the Memorial Stone. The only Uchiha mentioned there. That means Obito was an outstanding man.”
His tone carried respect. Maybe even awe.
[It’s going to crush him when he finds out who really took part in his clan’s massacre.]
“And where did you dig all this up?” Menma asked lazily, glancing at Naruko as she set a bowl of bananas on the table.
“First I asked Iruka-sensei about Kakashi,” Sasuke recited. “He pointed me to his classmate, Yuhi Kurenai. I told her I wanted to know why Kakashi is called ‘Sharingan,’ and she told me everything.”
Naruko sat down beside them, grabbed a banana, and listened with lively interest while munching.
“You were right, Menma,” Sasuke said, his gaze warming. “Kakashi really does surpass Itachi. He graduated the Academy earlier, advanced faster, mastered four elements, and is close to a fifth.”
Menma narrowed his eyes.
“You’ve already asked to become his student?”
“I tried,” Sasuke grimaced, taking an apple too. “I caught him near the Memorial Stone, told him everything straight. And he… said he was too busy. Then walked off.”
He clenched his fist.
“You know what’s the dumbest part?” Sasuke’s voice rang with steel. “An hour later I found him in the park by accident. He was just sitting there reading an orange book! That’s what he calls ‘busy’?”
Naruko froze, her eyes suddenly glittering.
“Wait… an orange book? With a man chasing a woman on the cover?”
“I think so,” Sasuke frowned. “Why?”
Naruko shook her head with the air of a wise elder.
“You shouldn’t take that lightly. That book is regularly read by the Hokage himself. What’s more, it was written by one of the Legendary Sannin—Jiraiya. Clearly, it holds knowledge meant only for the strongest.”
Sasuke went silent, thoughtful. In his eyes flickered doubt—or maybe a spark of determination. It was clear: he’d now turn Konoha upside down for “Icha Icha Paradise.”
[That’ll be the disappointment of the century. But at least he’ll learn how to ‘restore the clan.’]
Menma activated a sensory technique and immediately felt a familiar chakra. Outside, right by the shrine, sat Kakashi. And not just sat—he was sunk in depression, like a statue of gloom.
[Really. Instead of this self-flagellation show, he could’ve shown the kid a couple of moves. Guess I’ll have to step in.]
///
Menma lounged on the shrine’s porch, lazily munching on an apple while keeping tabs on Kakashi with his sensory field. The jonin was still at the Memorial Stone—and judging by the lack of movement, had been standing in the exact same pose for two hours. No steps, no shift, even his breathing was steady.
[I’m no psychiatrist… but if a client like that came to me, I’d prescribe shock therapy. Patient’s clearly lost all sense of reality and time. Honestly, even the rocks around him look livelier.]
“I’m sick of this!” Naruko suddenly jumped up, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. “I’m gonna snap him out of it!”
Menma sighed in resignation. Stopping her was like trying to convince Konoha not to hold festivals—utterly pointless.
His sister was already stomping toward the cemetery.
“Hey, perv!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, jabbing a finger into Kakashi’s back. “You’re coming with us!”
Kakashi blinked. Then blinked again. Slowly, with the dazed air of a man pulled from a dream, he turned his head.
“And why would I?” he asked hoarsely.
Naruko’s lips curved into a wicked grin.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll ask Gramps to ban you from buying Jiraiya’s books in Konoha! Imagine it—every shop with a sign: ‘Not for sale to minors or Kakashi.’”
She folded her arms and gave an important nod.
“And my birthday’s coming up soon. You think Hokage would refuse his favorite granddaughter?”
Kakashi went pale. Cold sweat immediately broke out on his forehead.
“Well… no need to rush things,” he said stiffly. “We can… discuss this… calmly… like civilized people.”
“No negotiations with pervs!” Naruko cut him off, poking a finger into his chest. “You’re coming with us. To Ichiraku. Now.”
“…Fine…” Kakashi muttered, as if signing his own death warrant.
[Well, that was almost too easy.]
///
Ichiraku had an unusual gathering that night: gloomy Sasuke, tense Kakashi, and two twins shining like the sun. The difference in moods was striking—while the jonin and the Uchiha looked as if they’d been summoned for interrogation, Menma and Naruko could barely contain their anticipation.
With a broad smile, Teuchi set down a tray with two steaming bowls. The broth inside was thick and red, chunks of meat and vegetables bubbling like a quietly simmering volcano.
“I managed to fuse ramen with curry,” he said proudly. “But fair warning—it’s very spicy!”
“Itadakimas!” Naruko was the first to grab a spoon and scoop up a hearty portion.
Seconds later, her face flared scarlet. Tears welled in her eyes, and tiny jets of fire seemed to burst from her nose.
“Delicious!” she declared, then gulped down a full glass of milk in one go. “Teuchi, you’re a genius!”
“Oh, come on…” the cook muttered, scratching his head. “It’s just my job.”
Menma braced himself and took a bite too. Spoon, broth, swallow. The flavor scorched his tongue like a burning coal shoved straight into his mouth.
“Uuuuh!” Menma dropped his spoon, clapping his palms over his nose. Thin streams of steam hissed from his nostrils, as if he’d turned into a mini teapot. “I’m thrilled!”
Naruko smacked the counter with her palm.
“He’s as red as my hair! I say we call it ‘Uzu-ramen!’”
Teuchi lit up instantly and chalked the new name onto the menu board.
“Great idea!”
“What are you two waiting for?” Naruko spun toward Kakashi and Sasuke. “Try it!”
“No!” they barked in unison, almost recoiling.
“Regular ramen for me,” Sasuke said quickly, avoiding the sight of the red inferno.
Kakashi just gave a vague cough, but placed no order—it was obvious why. To eat, he’d have to remove his mask, and for him that was worse than ANBU torture.
“So why’d you drag us here?” Kakashi finally asked, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. His tone was lazy, but there was a note of caution beneath it. “I already told Sasuke I don’t have time to train him.”
“You’re supposed to be together!” Naruko declared with theatrical passion, slamming her palm on the counter so hard the milk in the mugs jumped.
Two “emo boys” simultaneously fixed their stares on her.
“You’re both gloomy loners!” she went on, jabbing a finger at Kakashi, then at Sasuke. “If you hang around each other, you’ll kill off all that boring ‘emo’ and turn into normal people!”
Sasuke frowned so hard it looked like his brows were about to merge into one solid line.
“What the hell are you babbling about?” he snapped.
Kakashi silently nodded, signaling complete agreement.
[They’re not green kids who’ll buy into loud speeches. They want facts and logic. They think like I do—which means it’s my turn to step in.]
Menma set his elbows on the counter, laced his fingers, and tilted his head slightly toward the jonin.
“Kakashi-san, we know how deeply you respect your comrade Obito. So deeply that you even adopted his habit of being late. Just so everyone around keeps remembering him.”
Kakashi tensed. A shadow flickered in his single visible eye.
“Where did you hear that?” he asked curtly.
“Guy told me,” Menma shrugged. “That fanatic can rant for hours about his ‘eternal rival.’”
Kakashi let out a quiet sigh and rolled his eye.
“My point is,” Menma went on, not giving him a chance to retreat inward, “if remembering him really matters that much to you, then being late all the time isn’t enough.”
Kakashi leaned forward slightly.
“And what are you getting at?”
Menma smirked and swept a broad gesture toward his neighbor.
“Right next to you sits Obito’s second cousin once removed.”
Sasuke, completely unprepared for the turn, choked on his noodles and coughed.
“He’s got no one left. Not even someone to explain how to handle the Sharingan. If you want to honor Obito’s memory, you should be the one to look after him.”
Silence fell. Even the street noise seemed to fade. Kakashi kept shifting his gaze between Menma and Sasuke for a long time.
“So you’ve awakened the Sharingan?” he finally asked.
“Yes!” Sasuke’s eyes lit up as he revealed a Sharingan with a single tomoe.
Kakashi didn’t look away.
“And what do you want to use it for? To kill Itachi?”
“Exactly.” Sasuke clenched his fists. His voice wavered, but his words came out firm. “I must punish him, so the souls of my kin can finally move on to the Pure Land.”
Kakashi’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. But Sasuke suddenly added:
“But that’s only the first goal. The second… I want to become strong. To carry on Obito’s path.”
“What?” For the first time in the whole conversation, Kakashi looked genuinely stunned.
“I never knew anything about him before,” Sasuke said, staring down at his noodles. “Everyone only ever talked about Itachi’s genius. But Obito? He barely made it through the Academy. No one thought he was special. Yet he became a hero. And Itachi—a traitor.”
Sasuke drew in a breath, as if defying the whole world:
“Now I know what kind of Uchiha I want to be.”
[Whoa. Didn’t see that one coming. Sasuke just officially rewrote his own brain. And look at that: Kakashi’s got the blue screen of death. Even I’m impressed.]
Kakashi sat motionless, as if battling with himself. Then, all of a sudden, he reached out and patted Menma on the shoulder.
“Good analysis. You’re a lot like your father.”
And without another word, he calmly walked out of Ichiraku.
The twins exchanged glances. Naruko was just about to throw out a snarky line when a familiar ash-gray head popped back into view.
“Sasuke,” Kakashi called, “are you done eating?”
“Almost!” Sasuke emptied his bowl in a flash and jumped to his feet.
“Let’s head to the training field. I want to see what you can do.”
With that, Kakashi stepped outside, and Sasuke hurried after him, more alive than he’d been in a long time.
Menma smirked, tallying up the results in his head:
[Keep Sasuke from going insane—check. Pull Kakashi out of depression—check. Get gratitude from both—check. Today’s job: done.]
