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Twin Demons. Chapter 42
🕑 Added 2025-10-08 21:48:12 +0000 UTCZabuza had chosen his ambush well. The wide lake gave him the advantage—water was his element, his weapon. But Yamato wasn’t simple prey. At the center of the lake already stood a towering tree, its roots gripping the lakebed, drinking the water and denying the enemy his usual battlefield. Even Zabuza’s Water Dragon smashed uselessly against the bark.
Victory seemed close… if not for Haku. Ice kept freezing the roots, breaking barriers, halting Yamato’s every step forward with a gleam of frost.
[At this rate, Haku will grab his master and retreat. Can’t let that happen. Leaving an enemy for round two is for the arena. In a real fight—you kill them at the first chance.]
The twins decided in unison: first, the ice master had to go. Shuriken sliced through the air, but in the next instant Haku vanished—gone from the lake’s surface.
And reappeared… right in front of them.
“Demonic Ice Mirrors Technique.” His voice echoed from dozens of reflections at once. Ice closed in, walls of mirrors surrounded them on every side—even above. In each reflection stood Haku—twelve identical, expressionless figures.
“Oh, come on!” Naruko protested. “First demon brothers, then demon mist Zabuza, and now you! What are you guys, the demon squad?!”
In answer, Haku silently drew a handful of senbon, ready to strike.
[This one isn’t wasting time telling his life story either. Figures—I didn’t pick flowers with him or whatever happened in canon. Right now Haku wants to kill us fast and get back to his master. Too bad… I’m not about to play pincushion.]
Menma reached out his hand. Naruko grabbed it immediately.
And in that instant, the space trembled. From the twins surged a heavy, feral bloodlust so thick the air itself grew viscous. Behind them loomed a silhouette—the giant, distorted head of a demon with four eyes, radiating an insatiable hunger to kill.
Haku, dashing through the mirrors at inhuman speed, suddenly collapsed to his knees. His body shook, his breath ragged.
“Such… killing intent…” he whispered, eyes widening beneath the mask. “Stronger than Zabuza-sama’s…”
The twins pressed palm to palm. A sphere of chakra swirled between their hands—but this wasn’t a regular Rasengan. Inside spun a chaotic storm of thousands of razor-sharp blades, interwoven with adamantine chakra. The orb pulsed, swelling to twice the size of a normal Rasengan, its roar like the screech of a metal grinder.
Haku desperately coated his body in ice armor. But this technique was built to break even S-rank jutsu.
Impact.
Haku was blasted out of his own trap like a cannonball, shattering mirror after mirror as he flew. His flight ended against a cliff—accompanied by a dull, meaty thud. A bloody smear marked the crack in the rock.
The mirrors collapsed into shards. Their master was dead.
Without wasting a moment, the twins sprinted toward the lake.
Zabuza was still fighting. His body was drenched in blood: holes in his chest, pierced lungs and liver. His chakra was barely detectable. Yet he stood on broken legs, swinging his blade and holding back the roots. Only sheer will kept him upright.
He hacked through another branch and lunged at the twins. Whether he meant to drag them with him into the grave to spite Yamato, or whether he somehow sensed Haku’s death and wanted revenge—it was impossible to tell.
But half-dead Zabuza moved far too slowly for their feral eyes. Two adamantine chains pierced his skull, and the rogue ninja collapsed, robbed of any chance at a dramatic finale.
“What about the other one?” Yamato emerged from a tree, breathing heavily.
“Dead,” Menma reported curtly. “No enemies within sensory range.”
“Good.” The jonin finally allowed himself to relax, and it showed how much the battle had cost him—pale, drenched in sweat, but still standing firm. “In the report, I’ll write that you both killed him. After this, you’ll definitely get into the Bingo Book.”
“Awesome!” Naruko cheered, jumping. Menma smiled faintly, noting how easily it came to him.
[Yesterday, killing two with my sister felt disgusting. Today—two more, and nothing. Are we… getting used to this?]
Naruko darted back to the hideout and returned with Karin, the clients, and the wooden cart.
“You did it! We won!” Tazuna shouted in delight.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t celebrate yet,” Menma shot him a cold look. Tazuna fell silent at once. “Gato can always hire new missing-nin.”
“I doubt it,” Yamato countered, settling into the cart. “The fact he could afford Zabuza at all is surprising. Probably begged for a discount.”
“Reminder—the fee for Zabuza is still unpaid,” Menma folded his arms. “That money could go to the next mercenary.”
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
“Then we stay sharp,” Yamato yawned. “I need a nap. Tazuna, Sanbei—you pull the cart. Karin—guard them. Menma, Naruko, gather the bodies. We’ll bring them to Konoha and claim the reward.”
The cart rolled on. The twins remained by the lake. What was left of Haku they stuffed into a garbage bag they had prepared in advance. Zabuza’s corpse, sword and all, they dragged up from the lakebed with adamantine chains.
“Done.” Naruko inspected the haul. “Let’s make clones and catch up with Karin-chan!”
Menma closed his eyes, scanning the surroundings. All clear. No wooden clones lurking in the bushes. And after that fight, Yamato didn’t have the chakra left for tricks anyway.
“Don’t rush,” he sat down on the grass. “First we decide what spoils we’re keeping.”
“Uh… the sword?” Naruko pointed uncertainly.
“Exactly.” Menma nodded. “One of the Seven Swords of the Mist. A true artifact. And no way Yamato lets us keep it.”
“Who’d want it?!” Naruko snorted. “It’s just a giant oar for idiots.”
“Agreed. Wielding it would be declaring war on the entire Mist. But the blade isn’t where its power lies. The hilt draws iron from blood and shapes it into weapons. That’s the real treasure.”
Together they summoned their chains, used the chain-saw technique to slice off the blade, and sank it into the lake. Menma tucked the hilt into his pouch.
“Much better,” he said with satisfaction.
“And what are you gonna do with it?” Naruko narrowed her eyes.
“I’ve got ideas.” Menma winked. “But first, we need a story for sensei about the missing sword.”
Naruko paced along the shore, frowning.
[That’s why I love my sister. No dumb lectures, no ‘don’t do this.’]
“Got it!” She clapped her hands. “We’ll say Mist shinobi showed up and took everything! That way we don’t have to drag the bodies either.”
“Two flaws,” Menma shook his head. “Without bodies, no reward and no Bingo entry. And if Yamato learns no Mist-nin showed up, we’re done for.”
“Well, I tried,” Naruko shrugged without offense. “What’s your plan then?”
“We’ll say the sword vanished.”
“Vanished?” she squinted.
“Not just vanished. With a puff and a cloud of smoke,” Menma explained with mock gravity. “Let sensei figure out whether it was Zabuza’s fuinjutsu, a hidden Mist mechanism, or a reaction to his Wood Release.”
They exchanged matching sly smiles.
“Great. You got a present, I didn’t. Not fair!” Naruko dashed into the forest and soon returned—with the rabbit. The same one. Its apathetic stare was unmatched.
“He’s going to live with me.”
“Naruko, we talked about this,” Menma frowned.
“And I changed the terms!” she lifted her chin. “Either that, or I tell sensei about your pouch.”
They stared each other down for a long moment.
“Welcome to the family, you little bastard,” Menma sighed heavily.
Naruko beamed with a triumphant smile.
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