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Twin Demons. Chapter 60
🕑 Added 2025-11-07 21:48:31 +0000 UTCAt exactly three in the afternoon, someone knocked on the door. Standing on the threshold was Iruka — tired, but with warmth in his eyes.
“Time’s up. All teams are gathering in the central hall.”
The twins and Karin, now dressed in combat uniforms, followed him down the corridor to the first level of the tower.
In the center of the spacious hall stood a monumental statue — hands folded in a seal of concentration. Along the wall stretched a row of large monitors. The atmosphere was solemn, almost ceremonial.
Before the statue stood six shinobi — the jōnin instructors of the surviving teams. From Konoha: Hatake Kakashi with his ever-present book, the radiant Might Guy, the thoughtful Kurenai, the calm Asuma with a lit cigarette, and Yamato, looking like a man who’d already seen far too much. From the Sand stood a jōnin with a half-covered face — Gaara’s mentor.
From the Sound, no one. Apparently Orochimaru had been hit hard enough to prefer hiding for now.
In front of the teachers stood the Third Hokage himself — dignified and focused. To either side of him stood two lines of proctors: on the left, the stern Ibiki; on the right, the perpetually grinning Anko.
The genin gathered in loose groups, each looking for a corner to stand in. Menma glanced around, nodding to familiar faces — Lee, Shikamaru, Hinata, Sasuke.
It was good to see that all their friends had made it to the final stage.
Then the hall doors opened again, and Gaara entered.
He moved calmly, almost silently, but the air around him grew heavier. Conversations died; a few genin instinctively stepped back. That icy vibration — the unmistakable feel of killing intent — filled the room.
Gaara looked as usual: grim, focused, eyes empty of anything human. But the moment he spotted the Uzumaki twins, something shifted in the air. Naruko’s smile vanished, and Menma felt a familiar chill crawl down his skin.
The bloodlust radiating from Gaara was almost tangible.
Behind him came Temari and Kankurō — pale, hollow-eyed, looking like they hadn’t slept in days. They carried the expression of people who’d spent the week locked in a cage with a tiger, taking turns to rest.
[Looks like spending days in the same tower with an angry jinchūriki did a number on them. I almost feel guilty for taking their scroll. Almost.]
Naruko shot Gaara a brief glance and stuck out her tongue. Menma smirked faintly — she could troll people even in deadly silence. Gaara didn’t respond, but the sand gourd on his back gave a faint tremor.
Next came the Sound team — Dosu, Zaku, and Kin. All three looked furious, bruised, and extremely irritable. Their eyes shot sparks in Sasuke’s direction.
Karin whispered, “After meeting Orochimaru, they went after him. Thought they had him cornered...”
“And got predictably smeared across the trees,” Menma finished, watching the unbothered Uchiha.
[Given Kakashi’s proper training, the guy didn’t even need a cursed seal to win.]
At that moment, Anko stepped forward. A mic glinted on her ear, and her lively, teasing voice filled the hall.
“Well, kids!” she began. “First of all, congrats on passing the second stage! Those of you still standing here have proven you’re not complete losers. But don’t relax yet! The Hokage-sama will now explain what’s coming next — so listen carefully!”
[‘Not complete losers’ — the highest praise you’ll ever get from Anko.]
The Hokage stepped forward. He looked solemn, but there was warmth in his eyes — pride. He scanned the hall slowly, as if memorizing each face.
“So,” he began calmly, but his voice carried such weight that silence instantly fell over the room. “Before I explain the rules of the third stage, I want you to understand why this exam exists in the first place.”
A murmur ran through the crowd. Even the most laid-back genin, like Shikamaru, straightened up.
“Why do you think the allied nations hold a joint exam for their shinobi?” the Hokage asked, adjusting his hat. “You’ve all heard the phrases: ‘to strengthen friendship,’ ‘to raise the level of our ninja’...”
He paused.
“Don’t let those pretty words fool you.”
The whispering grew louder. Some exchanged surprised looks, the girls whispered among themselves, and the boys just shrugged — they didn’t need philosophy to know it was all about fighting.
“In the past,” Sarutobi continued, “today’s allies were enemies. We fought for power, for land, for influence. This exam was created to replace war. Instead of bloody battles on the borders, we have duels between young shinobi. Here, before everyone’s eyes, it is decided who is strong and who is not.”
His gaze swept slowly over the faces of the genin.
“The leaders of nations, powerful lords, our clients — all of them watch your battles. And the village whose ninja prove strongest will gain more missions. The weak…” he paused, “…the weak lose clients and influence. This is how we show the world: ‘Our village is still powerful.’”
A heavy silence filled the hall. Even Naruko stopped fidgeting.
Then a voice broke through the quiet:
“Why should we risk our lives?!” Kiba shouted, ruffled and agitated. Akamaru barked from his head, as if backing him up.
The Hokage didn’t get angry. He only sighed heavily.
“The strength of a nation is the strength of its village. And the strength of a village is the strength of its shinobi. True strength is born only in life-and-death battles, Kiba.”
His voice grew firmer. “In this exam, you don’t just fight. You prove that you can defend your homeland’s honor. You learn to see the strength of others — and to show your own. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it was for those who came before you.”
Tenten stepped forward, fists clenched. “Then why talk about friendship and unity at all?”
The old man closed his eyes for a moment. “Because it’s easier that way,” he said quietly. “Pretty words bring comfort. But balance isn’t built on them. It’s built on the lives we’re willing to lay down. That’s the price of peace in our shinobi world.”
He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the room as if he wanted every word to sink deep into memory. “Remember this: this exam isn’t just a competition. It’s a battle where your dreams, your pride, and your village’s honor are on the line.”
Silence hung heavy in the hall.
[Man, what a speech. Feeding fairy tales to kids again. Three wars have already gone by, and he’s still preaching about ‘balance.’ As if anyone still believes this is about peace. Come on, old man—this whole exam is business. Stadium ticket sales, elite ninja showcase for rich clients. Everything else is just wrapping paper.]
Menma crossed his arms, catching a glimpse of Naruko yawning into her fist.
[Well, at least he was honest about the whole “risking our lives” part. Nice to hear some truth for once.]
The Hokage stepped back slightly, and his tone softened.
“And still,” he said, “I believe each of you can pass this trial without losing yourselves. That is the true strength of a shinobi.”
“I don’t care what it is,” Gaara cut in coldly, his stare fixed straight on the Hokage. “Explain these battles.”
The air thickened; even breathing felt harder.
“Of course,” Sarutobi nodded. “I was just getting to the third stage, but—”
A harsh cough interrupted him. A shinobi appeared before the Hokage, dropping to one knee. Pale, with dark circles under his eyes, hair in disarray, and the overall look of someone who hadn’t slept in three days.
“My apologies, Lord Hokage,” he rasped, coughing again. “Perhaps, as the referee, I can explain it better?”
“Well, sure,” Menma muttered under his breath. “Obviously you’ll explain it better than a veteran of three wars who’s triple your age.”
Naruko snorted into her hand, and Karin looked away, barely suppressing a laugh.
Hiruzen’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he stepped aside. “Go ahead, Hayate.”
“Cough… good afternoon,” Hayate straightened up and faced the gathered genin. “I’m Gekkō Hayate, and I’ll explain the rules of the third stage. Before we begin, cough, we’ll need to hold a preliminary round to determine who’s truly fit to proceed.”
“Why not just let everyone in?” Sakura asked loudly, raising her hand.
“Cough, cough… good question,” Hayate replied, covering his mouth. “Perhaps the first two stages were too easy this year, so too many participants remain. According to the rules, a selection round is required in such cases. Also, as the Hokage mentioned, we’ll have guests from all over the world. Time is limited, and… cough… no one wants matches that drag on forever.”
He glanced around the room. “If anyone feels unwell or simply doesn’t wish to risk their life, you may withdraw now. The preliminaries will begin immediately.”
Silence.
Then a calm voice spoke up. “I want to withdraw.”
All heads turned. Sai stood in the middle of the hall, wearing his usual fake smile as if he’d just said something completely normal.
Hayate blinked, checked a list one of the examiners handed him, and nodded. “Cough… Sai, right? You may leave. Anyone else?”
He coughed again. “Ah, and one more thing: the matches will be one-on-one. So your decision affects only you.”
Sai nodded silently and walked toward the exit. Sasuke and Sakura exchanged glances, but he didn’t even look back.
[Root doesn’t like showing off its tricks to the world. Sensible, really.]
Hayate turned back to the rest. “Alright then, cough… let’s begin the preliminaries.” His voice suddenly grew clearer. “You’ll fight one-on-one in real combat. There are twenty of you left—so ten matches. Winners advance.”
He paused. “There are no restrictions. A fight continues until one of you loses consciousness, surrenders… or dies. Cough. So if you don’t want to die, surrender in time.”
Someone gulped audibly.
“Also,” he added, “if I decide the outcome is clear, I’ll stop the match. We don’t need extra corpses. Pairs will be assigned at random. Now, everyone move to the upper level—we’re starting.”
The genin stirred, slowly heading up the stairs. The air felt heavy, every step echoing.
Menma caught Naruko and Karin by the sleeves and pulled them aside.
“Did you catch what the Hokage said?” he asked quietly.
“Something about preparing for war,” Naruko replied, lazily twirling a strand of hair. “And some other boring stuff. Honestly, I almost fell asleep.”
Karin yawned, covering her mouth.
Menma sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, let me translate that into normal language. The point of the third stage is to show off Konoha’s next generation. Demonstrate skills, clans, potential—basically, an exhibition of national achievements.”
“And?” Naruko tilted her head.
“And there’s limited space,” Menma said grimly. “The Hokage needs to showcase as many clans as possible. Which means only one of the Uzumaki is getting into the finals.”
Comments
Catherine Colin
Thanks for the chapter!
