Three long months had passed since the day they began their experiments with sensory training. Day after day, clone after clone, the same dull, exhausting routine: sitting in a cramped cell, "listening" to the void and hoping that something—anything—would stir beyond the darkness. Three months, and finally the first breakthrough. One of Menma's shadow clones caught two tiny sparks of chakra beyond the wall. It wasn't a vision, not a clear picture—more like a vague impression, a faint shimmer where you couldn't tell a cat from a dog. But that was the first step, the hardest and most important one: from here, the path was open.
If you added up all the time the clones had worked in parallel, it came out to almost fifteen months of pure effort. Funny and terrifying at the same time. But most importantly—the mind was still intact: no hallucinations, no broken psyche. A tolerable price.
When the first stage was finally completed, Hiruzen summoned the twins to his office.
"Ha!" Naruko jabbed a finger at the Hokage the moment she stepped through the door, as if she were about to arrest him for insubordination. "Told you I'd clear your dumb test before summer was over! Gramps, do you even get who you're messing with? I've got Dad's brains and Mom's stubbornness!"
She stood there with her chin raised like she had just ended a war all by herself, and Menma only let out a quiet sigh.
"I never doubted you for a second, Naruko-chan," Hiruzen replied with a lazy smile, lighting his pipe. Warm smoke quickly filled the office with the sweet scent of tobacco. "But your brother managed a little earlier."
[Damn. Again. The old schemer just loves to pit us against each other and watch the sparks fly. Sis is already drilling holes in me with her eyes like I ate her favorite ramen.]
"Hey, I only pulled it off thanks to our rivalry," Menma hurried to add, leaning forward. "And even then, once it worked, I waited a whole week before moving on—so we could go forward together. Because I know without my sister, I won't get far."
Naruko's frown vanished at once. Her eyes gleamed—a mix of pride and gratitude.
"Ho-ho, now that's the true spirit of rivalry," Hiruzen exhaled a puff of smoke toward the ceiling, watching them with the look of a teacher who loved his students despite their noisiness. "Competing while respecting each other… It reminds me of my friendship with Danzo."
"Who's Danzo?" Naruko asked immediately, tilting her head. "Another old guy?"
"A very accurate description," Hiruzen chuckled dryly, though without the slightest hint of annoyance. "But that's not the point. It's time to move on to the next stage of sensory training. You already know what foreign chakra feels like?"
The twins nodded in sync.
"Good. Now you need to learn how to consciously detect and analyze other people's energy. For that, there is a basic sensory technique. It's called Kagura Shingan."
[Oh. That technique Karin used? Huh. I thought she invented it herself… but turns out it's an official foundation. Makes sense. In canon, no one ever called her a prodigy.]
"I'll show you the full set of seals," Hiruzen continued, rising from his desk. "But remember: no seals will help if you don't understand where to direct the flow. Picture a whirlpool of chakra—it should be spinning in your head, while part of the energy spreads outward."
Menma knew this exercise by heart. Memories of earlier training floated up automatically, and his body carried out the instructions on its own. It worked on the first try, as if he'd just repeated a familiar breathing motion. Naruko managed it too—though with some effort to keep her focus.
[Basically, if you have full chakra control, learning any technique takes a minute. No Sharingan needed. Just clear instructions and a bit of patience. That's how Hiruzen grabbed all of Konoha's jutsu for himself—without any "miracle eyes."]
"Excellent," the old man nodded in approval. "At first, I suggest you shout the name of the technique. Yes, it sounds silly and unprofessional, but it helps lock in your concentration."
Naruko lit up as if she'd just been officially allowed to yell in the middle of the street.
"Kagura Shingan!" they shouted together, forming the seals.
In the same instant, the world changed. Menma closed his eyes and saw darkness—but within that darkness, two bright sources ignited. The first was Hiruzen. His chakra was a raging storm, immense and threatening. Even at rest, he radiated danger, like a wild beast lazily dozing in its cage. The second was Naruko. Her energy was denser, more saturated, with a hard, metallic edge—like glowing iron in a forge.
[I wonder if I look the same to her? Or maybe with a darker tint mixed in?]
"I'm sure you found me without any trouble," Hiruzen's voice was calm, but carried that particular note teachers used when checking if their students were cheating. "Now, try again."
Menma kept the concentration seal, eyes still closed. The inner whirl of chakra spun steadily, holding his focus on the fine edge of perception. Hiruzen deliberately clapped his hands into seals—his silhouette seemed to vanish from Menma's sensory vision. But not completely: the roiling ocean of five elements was still there.
[Heh. That's the Asura bloodline for you. We see more than ordinary sensors. Can't hide from us that easily.]
"As I told you before," Hiruzen went on, thinking his disappearance had worked, "the simpler the sensory technique, the easier it is to evade."
"There you are!" Naruko flung her eyes open and pointed straight at him.
"Naruko-chan," Hiruzen smiled indulgently, settling back into his chair. "I was talking about the chakra trail."
"No, really!" Naruko shot up, her voice ringing with irritation. "You were standing there the whole time—I saw you!"
"Calm down," Menma hissed softly, opening his eyes. "Obviously, he never left the room. It's just an example for us. If the Hokage actually wanted to hide, we'd never find him."
Hiruzen nodded, as if that was the answer he'd been waiting for.
Naruko scowled, huffed, and dropped the argument, though her puffed cheeks betrayed her annoyance.
[Whew. Looks like I managed not to spill anything extra. Let him think we're the same as everyone else. The less the old schemer knows about our 'bonuses,' the safer we are. If he starts worrying, that's the last thing I want.]
"So what now?" Menma asked evenly. "Does this mean our sensory training is over?"
"If only, Menma-kun." Hiruzen exhaled a cloud of smoke. "This is only the beginning. Now you'll practice the technique day and night until you can keep the entire village in your range. Over time, your perception radius will expand. Then you won't need to shout the name or form seals. Ideally, sensory should become as natural to you as breathing."
"And how long does that take?" Menma asked, already running the math in his head.
"Any technique can only be perfected through practice," Hiruzen intoned like an age-old sage. "Usually it takes about five years."
[I've got five clones on duty. A year should be enough. Perfect.]
"Perhaps the Professor could share some tips on how exactly to refine Kagura Shingan?" Menma asked smoothly, just a hint of cunning in his tone.
Hiruzen raised a brow, but his eyes glinted with satisfaction.
"You were right to ask," he said, tapping ash from his pipe. "There's no shame in seeking help. The shame is in breaking yourself out of stubbornness."
Menma straightened his shoulders without thinking. Naruko, meanwhile, stuck her tongue out at him the moment Hiruzen turned away. The old man noticed, of course, but pretended not to.
"Given your chakra reserves," Hiruzen continued in a teacher's tone, "I'd advise you to make five shadow clones and spread them out through different parts of Konoha. Let them scan the villagers' chakra. Over time the radius will grow, and the clones will drift farther out. That way, each one will bring back new experience."
"Thanks for the advice," Menma said with a short nod.
Out on the street, he immediately formed seals—five clones burst off in different directions across the village without a word.
///
Later, at home, behind wards against surveillance, Naruko pounced on her brother:
"Brother! Why didn't you let me tell Gramps I saw his chakra? You saw it too!"
Menma had been expecting this.
"It's a clan trait," he said in a solemn, almost ceremonial tone. "You could call it a hiden jutsu. We're not allowed to share it with outsiders."
"Not even with Gramps?"
"With no one. If we spill it, we'll disgrace our ancestors."
It worked instantly. Naruko froze, then nodded firmly.
"Then I won't tell anyone! No one, ever!" Her voice rang with conviction.
And Menma knew: she'd keep that promise. Naruko could argue, shout, quarrel until she was hoarse… but if she swore an oath, she'd hold it even if the world turned upside down.
///
The second school year began.
Just like the year before, Hiruzen delivered his speech to the new students—a long sermon about the future, duty, and honor. Same as always: a tedious, endless lecture about how the academy trained the "future defenders of the village." Mothers in the front rows dabbed sentimental tears with handkerchiefs.
The first-years stood stiffly at attention, though half of them were clearly fighting off sleep.
Second-years and up were not required to attend the ceremony. Uzumaki twins and the Ino–Shika–Cho trio took full advantage of that privilege without a shred of guilt. They had settled in the shade of a nearby tree, far from the crowd. Cooler here, and easier to see when the boredom would finally end.
Naruko shamelessly munched on an apple, Ino critiqued other people's outfits, Choji focused on his chips, and Shikamaru lay in the grass with a hand over his face.
"Deadly boring," he drawled lazily. "Like we didn't hear all this last year."
"That's the great power of our Hokage," Naruko declared with importance. "Just imagine—record his speech and send it all over the world. Every enemy will die of boredom!"
"I'm surprised Kiba isn't with us," Menma remarked, lazily letting his gaze drift over the crowd. Among them he easily spotted a familiar messy head and a miserable face.
"He doesn't really have a choice," Choji shrugged, ripping open another bag of chips with a crunch. "Yesterday Kiba was whining that his mom promised to tear his head off if he messed up even once today."
"My sympathies," Shikamaru groaned, sinking the back of his head into the grass. "And here I thought my mom was strict…"
"It'll be good for Kiba," Ino cut in sharply, giving the crowd a critical once-over. "He spent all last year acting like a total idiot."
Her attention shifted instantly—locked on Naruko.
"Oh, you grew your hair out."
With feigned calm, Naruko ran her fingers through the strands that now reached her shoulders.
"Had to," she replied, her eyes gleaming slyly. "My brother likes girls with long hair."
Ino nearly choked on air.
"You're growing your hair… for your brother?!"
Menma didn't even have time to react before his sister, shining with an innocent smile, let out a theatrical sigh.
"Oh, Ino-chan, something happened this summer…" She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My brother stole my first kiss."
Silence. Even the chips stopped crunching. All eyes swung to Menma. Choji's eyes went round, Shikamaru lifted his hand from his face for the first time all day, and Ino turned red. Meanwhile, Naruko beamed like a cat who'd gotten into the cream.
"And," she continued, fluttering her lashes innocently, "my brother turned out to be so insatiable. All summer he kept reaching for my lips. Now I'm worried—what if he can't hold back and jumps on other girls in the academy…?"
[Oh hell! Still getting revenge for that spit-swapping incident! If I don't shut this play down right now, Ino will be spreading word through the entire academy in five minutes that I'm pervert number one.]
"My sister just wanted to get rid of our resemblance," Menma said dryly, cutting the wave short—and met her outraged glare. "We started serious sensory training this summer and realized sensors could tell us apart easily. If we were same-sex twins, we could've kept the game going. But, alas, no."
"So what?" Ino crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "What do sensors have to do with the academy?"
"First, Hinata is a sensor," Menma began calmly counting on his fingers like he was reading out a mission report. "She hasn't outed us out of courtesy. Second, Kiba gets his puppy this year, and a dog's nose will definitely tell us apart. As for Kiba's own sense of discretion…" He shot a glance at the suffering boy in the crowd. "…questionable. Third, according to inside info, one of the teachers became a sensor over the summer."
[Gramps didn't forget Mizuki's loose tongue and threw him in a sensory deprivation chamber. Six days—and presto, a sensor. Gotta admit, not a bad result. Mizuki may not be a genius, but he's definitely talented.]
"Sounds more convincing," Shikamaru drawled lazily. "At least more logical than the forbidden-love subplot of some cheap manga."
"But less exciting," Ino sighed in disappointment, still secretly hoping for a scandal.
"So what does that mean?" Choji asked through his chips. "You two gonna stop driving teachers insane?"
"Not a chance." Naruko's grin turned wicked, her eyes flashing with true battle spirit. "The whole identical-twin act only held me back. I had to play it safe not to blow our cover. But now? No such problem. So tremble, academy! Uzumaki Naruko is coming for your brains!"
Shikamaru covered his face with a hand and exhaled like he'd just been told the Nine-Tails was back.
"Troublesome…"