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Twin Demons. Chapter 43
🕑 Added 2025-10-09 21:13:52 +0000 UTCThe Uzumaki twins caught up with the cart before it rolled too far downhill. The road sloped gently, trees cast long shadows, and the squeak of wheels mixed with Tazuna and Sanbei’s quiet grumbling. Four clones, created by Naruko and Menma, trailed behind, their hands full with the heavy burden of Zabuza and Haku’s bodies. The twins didn’t even look back, knowing the clones would manage. Later, when there was time and a proper place, everything would be neatly sealed into scrolls.
The originals, slightly out of breath from running, reached the cart.
“Where have you been so long?” Karin met them with folded arms and reproach in her voice. “I was already thinking you’d been attacked again.”
“You said that like you’re our wife,” Menma snorted lazily.
“I like it,” Naruko jumped in immediately, flashing a bright grin. “When Karin-chan worries about us, it makes me feel all warm inside.”
“I’m not your wife!” Karin’s face flared red, and she turned away with a huff.
The twins exchanged satisfied glances—synchronized smiles that only unsettled Karin further.
Up ahead, Tazuna and Sanbei pulled the cart, deliberately ignoring the antics behind them, and argued heatedly about something of their own. Judging by their gestures, one was insisting, the other grumbling back, and no jokes from the rear could distract them.
“So what held you up?” Yamato finally spoke, his tone lazy. He was lying in the cart like in a hammock, opening only one eye.
“The sword’s gone,” Naruko admitted with a sigh of regret.
“Gone?” Karin spun around. “Where?!”
“No idea,” Menma shrugged. “Just vanished.”
Yamato didn’t even raise a brow.
“I see,” he murmured, shutting his eye again as if the news was about a lost kitchen knife, not one of the Seven Swords of the Mist.
“Yamato-sensei!” Karin protested. “Don’t you even care that one of the Seven Swords of the Mist just disappeared?!”
“Not really,” he replied indifferently, eyes still closed. “Konoha doesn’t need it, and we wouldn’t get a reward for it anyway.”
Naruko let out a noisy sigh and punched her brother on the shoulder—see, they could’ve just asked instead of making a scene.
Menma answered with a crooked grin that clearly said: Better to steal quietly than beg forever.
Before long, Sanbei said his farewells and hurried home to his family. It was obvious Tazuna had forgiven his old friend’s betrayal—the kind of forgiveness you give someone you’ve known half your life and can’t imagine a village drinking session without.
The cart stopped near a modest hut. A young woman with long black hair came out of the doorway, her face glowing with a smile.
“Father!” she exclaimed. “You’re back early!”
“Thank my bodyguards,” Tazuna said happily, hugging his daughter. “This is my daughter, Tsunami.”
“Hello,” Karin bowed politely, still trying to hide her blush from the twins’ earlier teasing.
“Well, why are we standing outside?” Tazuna darted into the house like a boy. “Come on in, we’ll celebrate!”
“Father, what happened?” Tsunami asked in surprise. “I haven’t seen you like this since you first got hired.”
“Today I was reborn!” Tazuna laughed. “Come on, set the table—we have guests!”
Menma casually tossed a sealing scroll with fuinjutsu tools to the clones. They nodded and disappeared behind the house to deal with the ninja corpses.
Team Eleven entered the house. The hut was poor, but neat and tidy. As they passed through, Yamato remarked quietly:
“Not enough rooms. To avoid crowding the hosts, I’ll build separate quarters for the team.”
Meanwhile, Tazuna clattered around with dishes, pulling a bottle of cloudy pink liquid from a cabinet.
“Here it is, cherry liqueur!” he declared triumphantly and poured himself a shot.
But his hand froze midair—Menma had gently but firmly stopped it.
“Business first, then celebration,” he said coldly, taking the bottle without asking.
“Uh…” Tazuna looked helplessly at Yamato. But Yamato had already settled at the table, chin resting on his hand, watching the scene with clear interest—and no intention of interfering.
“Time to talk about your deception,” Menma sat across from him, fingers interlaced. “And how you plan to pay for it.”
“Haven’t we settled that already?” Tazuna frowned, all joy gone from his face. “Your commander told you to complete the mission.”
“And I did.” Menma’s smile was cold, far too adult for his age. “No one doubts you’re alive and well thanks to us.”
Tsunami shifted uneasily, glancing from the guests to her father. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she gripped her apron.
Karin and Naruko sat down beside Menma—silent, but making it clear they were on his side.
“I’m not here to play on your conscience,” Menma continued. “I won’t remind you that if an ordinary squad had taken your case, today we’d be burying children. I’ll simply take what’s owed. Namely—the reward for a B-rank mission.”
He turned his head to Yamato:
“Sensei, it’s not too late to raise the mission’s rank, is it?”
“Considering the work’s done and the client is willing to pay extra…” Yamato gave Tazuna a long look. “I see no obstacles.”
“But I told you, I don’t have any money!” the bridge builder grew anxious, wiping sweat with a handkerchief.
“Maybe you don’t,” Menma said calmly, his eyes sweeping over the poor furnishings. “But the one who hired you definitely does. You’ll write a letter to your sponsor. Explain everything that happened, and ask for additional payment.”
The room fell silent.
“Can someone explain what’s going on here?” Tsunami’s voice was cold, though her face still carried a polite smile. She crossed her arms and stared at the guests. “What deception are we talking about?”
“It’s very simple,” Menma smirked crookedly, clearly enjoying the effect of his words in advance. “Your father hired children to protect his own skin. Without mentioning that armed-to-the-teeth thugs were after him. We’ve got strong nerves, sure, but you’ll agree there’s a big difference between ‘escort an old man through the woods’ and ‘fight mercenaries and a Mist swordsman.’”
He looked around the table and added, almost lazily:
“I understand he didn’t have money on him. But he could’ve at least explained everything back in Konoha. We shinobi are reasonable—an installment plan could’ve been arranged.”
“Oh, don’t be too harsh on him,” Tsunami defended her father. She stepped behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “He’s old now, his mind doesn’t work like it used to. He completely forgot he’d already received an advance… and not a small one, either.”
Tazuna went pale, looking like someone had just struck his weakest spot.
“You stingy old miser!” Karin burst out and tried to leap over the table. “You decided to save money by risking our lives?!”
She nearly grabbed Tazuna’s beard, but Yamato caught her by the scruff and held her back gently.
“You can’t kill clients,” he said calmly, as if repeating a well-worn mantra.
Meanwhile, Menma, stone-faced, pulled a coin from his sash and handed ten ryō to Naruko.
“You two were betting?” Karin blinked in surprise, forgetting her intent to strangle the old man.
“Yeah,” Menma replied evenly. “My sister and I tried to measure our client’s level of idiocy. I was naïve enough to believe people this stupid didn’t exist. But as you can see, I lost.”
Naruko, beaming triumphantly, tucked the coin into her clothes.
“Go rest, genin,” Yamato interjected, pulling out a scroll with the mission’s details. “Tazuna-san and I will handle the contract adjustments. Since there is money after all, the work will go faster.”
Tazuna looked like he’d just swallowed a sour lemon. Naruko stuck her tongue out at him as she passed by.
///
Tsunami led the Uzumaki trio to an empty room and quickly hurried back to her father—he looked like he might keel over without a glass of water or a strong drink.
Menma silently unrolled a futon on the floor, lay down, and shut his eyes. The day echoed dully in his head: fighting, death, endless talking. Killing people and dealing with idiots were equally exhausting tasks.
Naruko, of course, showed no trace of fatigue. She knelt across from Karin, beaming, with a fluffy rabbit in her hands.
“What a cutie!” Karin gently stroked the animal’s head. “So you went back for him after all.”
“Yup!” Naruko puffed out her chest as if she’d just won a tournament. “I was afraid he’d drowned while sensei was fighting Zabuza. The whole ground turned to swamp. But nope, he was still in the same bushes, even munching grass.”
“Laziness saves lives,” Karin remarked with a smile. “And what did your brother say? He was totally against it.”
[Do they realize I’m lying one meter away and can hear every word?]
“My brother loves me to death,” Naruko declared smugly. “So he lets me do anything.”
[Liar. If not for blackmail, I’d never doom that poor creature to live with her.]
“Where do you think he came from?” Naruko tilted her head, staring intently at her fluffy trophy.
“What do you mean?” Karin hugged the rabbit to her chest like a plush toy.
“Rabbits don’t live in the Land of Waves,” Naruko explained. “Which means someone brought him here.”
[Hmm. I think it’s Haku’s rabbit. Why he carried it around, though—that’s the mystery of the century.]
“Let’s give him a name!” Naruko brightened. “How about Mister Fluffy Pants?”
“Um… Naruko,” Karin lifted the rabbit in both hands, glanced underneath, and giggled. “It’s a girl.”
“Really?” Naruko quickly snatched the animal back and checked herself. “Definitely a girl! Well then, young lady, what shall we call you?”
“Kaguya,” Menma said lazily, eyes still closed.
“That’s a strange name… Kaguya,” Naruko repeated, as if tasting the sound. “Where’d you get it?”
“From an old tale about the Rabbit Goddess,” Menma replied, rolling onto his other side. “I think it sounds nice.”
“What do you say, Kaguya-chan?” Naruko pressed the rabbit to her cheek. The little creature calmly kept chewing a blade of grass. “I like it!”
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