Team Eleven, holding two scrolls in their hands, finally crossed the threshold of the tower at the center of the Forest of Death. The stone walls greeted them with hollow silence, and Karin exhaled first, loudly, with obvious relief.
"This Gaara... a real monster," she murmured, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. Sweat beaded on her brow, and her eyes flashed a mix of horror and awe. "He killed three people in a second. He didn't even blink."
Menma, as usual, looked outwardly calm. He adjusted the pouches that held his weapons and, without looking at Karin, said indifferently, "We're no different."
"What?" Karin lifted her head.
"We're shinobi," he repeated lazily, "We kill those who sneak up from behind without discussion. Those who decide to spare an enemy end up under a tree, a kunai in the heart. Remember the Demon Brothers. They weren't planning to invite us for tea."
[First lesson from Yamato-sensei. No illusions, no morality, only reality. Back then I understood that survival doesn't belong to the stronger, but to those who accept this world without embellishment.]
Karin froze, staring for a long time at Menma's calm face. "Do you really think those Rain shinobi were sneaking up on Gaara to strike?" she asked quietly.
Menma narrowed his eyes; a sneer crept into his voice. "Of course. They clearly weren't planning to ask where the nearest library is. Gaara is strong, maybe almost as strong as I am. But his attitude toward family... Threatening a sister with death? Even for a shinobi, that's too much."
"Stealth breeds mistrust," Naruko shot back; her gaze sharpened like a blade. "You're no better. You're already demanding I act without explaining why. So when will you start making threats?"
"Naruko," Menma exhaled softly, fatigue in his voice. "Don't start. I promised I'd explain later. For now, think about where we should go."
His sister twisted her mouth but waved her hand. The corridor they stood in stretched into dimness. Massive double doors lined both sides, each labeled with a paper tag and a number. Menma let his eyes travel down the row. "Forty-four," he muttered, pressing his fingers to his chin. "That's how many gates lead into the Forest of Death. We came in through the twelfth one, so the door must be twelve."
"So straight there," Karin nodded, adjusting her glasses.
They pushed the right door. It opened with a soft creak to a windowless room with scuffed walls. A lamp stood in a corner, and a darkened poster with ripped text hung on the opposite wall.
Menma stepped closer. "'When there is no Sky, seek Earth... when there is no Earth, seek...'" He leaned in and read. "Pieces have been cut out. Interesting."
"Earth... Sky..." Karin trailed off, her eyes lighting up. "It's about the scrolls! Exactly!"
Naruko slapped her palm against her fist. "Then no stalling. Showtime!"
Menma produced both scrolls and handed one to his sister. "You take Sky, I'll take Earth. Let's open them together."
They unfurled them in sync. Inside was a seal, complex and unfamiliar, a large kanji for 'Human' in the center. Around the edge, small text, like instructions, but unreadable. The surface of the scrolls suddenly trembled. Smoke began to seep out.
"Throw them away!" Menma ordered.
They both hurled the scrolls against the wall. There was a crack, the smoke swelled into a cloud, and from it, staggering forward, came... Iruka.
"Hello!" he smiled with his usual warmth, as if he hadn't appeared in an explosion but had simply walked into the classroom. "Long time no see!"
"I thought a demon would crawl out," Naruko said, disappointed.
"I hope I'm better than a demon," Iruka grinned. "At the end of the second stage, chunin meet the participants. I was allowed to greet you personally. And... congratulations! You set a new record: thirteen minutes. Not a scratch. That's simply incredible."
The twins clapped their hands in sync — loud, proud.
"Twin Demons are on top again!" Naruko shouted, grinning.
Iruka laughed, though with a touch of unease. "I'd like to celebrate and take everyone for ramen, but rules say no one can leave the tower until the stage ends."
"Perfect," Karin groaned, rolling her eyes. "Lock me in a tower like a princess. Just add a dragon."
"We can act it out," Naruko chimed in, poking her brother with her thumb. "There, perfect candidate."
"Very funny," Menma snorted.
Still sulking, Karin looked up. "What if we had opened the scrolls back in the forest? What then?"
"You are Karin, right?" Iruka asked, sizing her up. "Good question. If someone broke the rules and opened the scrolls early..." he paused, looking at them with mock sternness, "participants like that were supposed to be rendered unconscious until the end of the stage."
Naruko squinted and, without taking her eyes off him, said, "So you would try to knock us out? Me and Menma?"
"Well... rules are rules," Iruka scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Poor Iruka-sensei," she taunted, turning to her brother. "Imagine it — a schoolteacher against the Twin Demons."
Karin couldn't resist professional curiosity and activated her sensory perception. Her chakra felt Iruka's strength, and she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "He's a bit weaker than the first nukenin our team defeated," she reported casually.
Iruka frowned, and the twins turned to him in perfect unison. Their faces wore identical expressions of pleased, predatory interest.
"Hey!" he protested. "Have some decency! I'm standing right here!"
"Yes, yes, Karin-chan, watch your wording," Naruko said theatrically, wagging a finger. "Or Iruka-sensei will go and knock us out."
Karin had already slid down to the floor, laughing silently, and Menma smiled quietly to the side.
"At the academy you were such sweet kids," Iruka groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"We're still the very picture of kawaii," Naruko flashed, her pupils narrowing like an animal's as she deliberately fluttered her lashes.
Karin wiped tears of laughter from her face and croaked, "Oh, I can't... was it always this funny at the academy?"
"With these two? Always," Iruka sighed resignedly, though a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. "I also need to explain something to you," he began when the twins' laughter faded and the three faces grew serious. He walked to the wall with the poster, ran his hand over the darkened surface and half-smiled. "This is the chunin motto. It was written by Hokage-sama himself."
He turned to the kids and his voice took on that familiar teacherly note. "By 'Sky' here we mean mind, and by 'Earth' we mean body. Listen carefully." Iruka straightened as if standing before a classroom. "'If you need Sky — seek wisdom, prepare and wait.' That is, if a shinobi is foolish or insecure, they must learn and prepare thoroughly for missions." He drew a breath and continued, "'If you need Earth — hard work will bring you victory.' Power without sense is nothing, but sense without power is useless. And when you have both Sky and Earth — mind and body — no mission will be an obstacle."
He smiled slightly, as if pleased with himself. "In short, the idea is simple: study and train and you'll handle any task."
[He should live by that rule himself. His knowledge is school-level, and his physicals... at best he can run to the fence if pressed. A chunin a genin could beat.]
Karin raised her hand like in class. "And the missing part?"
"Oh, right." Iruka brightened. "The last line finishes with words from the scrolls. When they connect, the text reads: 'These rules define the path of a person.' The exam was a test of your path — your skill, strength and endurance. A chunin is a commander, a leader. He must lead, make decisions and take responsibility. That's why this motto is not just words, but a guide to action. When it's time to take the next step, remember it."
He looked over the three with a faint smile. "Clear?"
Menma raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Iruka-sensei," he said with the expression of someone doing his best not to roll his eyes, "we've been living by that rule for six years."
Iruka's face fell, like someone told him the Hokage had quit and was begging for alms. "Really?.."
"Of course," Naruko chimed merrily, shaking her head. "It's obvious. If you're dumb — learn. If you're weak — train. And if you're both dumb and weak, you can hang yourself. In the shinobi world, you're done for."
Iruka froze, opening and closing his mouth like a fish thrown ashore.
Menma wearily covered his face with his palm. "Naruko..." he muttered dully. "I get it. The worst thing we could meet in this forest is you."
"I'm only holding back," she winked slyly.
Iruka, finally resigned, sighed and scratched his nose. "You two never change. At all. Fine, rest. The second stage officially ends at three o'clock on the fifth day. So you have time to get yourselves together."
"What about food?" Menma asked.
"I'll show you," Iruka replied, a shadow of pride crossing his face. He approached one wall and pressed an unnoticeable button. The wall panel slid aside, revealing a spacious niche with folded sleeping bags, boxes of instant food and... board games.
Naruko lifted an eyebrow. "Even board games? Seriously?"
"Konoha prepared so participants wouldn't get bored," Iruka said with dignity and pressed a second button. Another wall moved, opening a door to toilets and showers.
Karin clapped her hands in delight. "Alright, now I don't mind being a princess."
"There's everything you need to spend five days comfortably," Iruka concluded. "You can go out, but I wouldn't recommend it. The other participants are on edge."
The twins exchanged a quick look. Crossing paths with Gaara now would not be a good idea.
"Well, I must go," Iruka said, straightening his shoulders. "New academy students will run wild without me. Congratulations again. You did great."
He waved and left, the door closing softly behind him.
Only a light rustle broke the silence. White feathers began to fall from the ceiling. The air grew thicker, heavier. Naruko frowned. "What the..."
Menma already knew. Genjutsu. In an instant their chakra twisted into a vortex, tearing the illusion apart. The white mist cleared. Only Karin failed to react — her body went limp and she collapsed silently to the floor.
Menma and Naruko both turned toward the door. It opened slowly, almost mockingly, with a creak.
A man with pale skin and a snake-like grin appeared in the doorway. "Hello, Menma-kun," his voice was slippery like oil. "Long time no see. You've changed. I, as you see, have not."
Orochimaru stepped forward and the air seemed to chill.
Menma did not flinch. He lowered his fists and met the Sannin's gaze. Naruko froze, and for the first time fear flickered in her eyes — not of Orochimaru himself, but that her brother clearly knew him... and kept silent.
"Relax," Menma said calmly, not averting his eyes. "He's our... theoretical ally."
"Only theoretical?" Orochimaru sneered as he shut the door behind him. "How dry that sounds."
"Depends on whether," Menma put his hands in his pockets, "you kept your part of the deal. And what's the hurry, by the way? I don't like being driven around like a dog."
"Heh..." Orochimaru chuckled softly. "I have some business in this forest. I decided to settle things with you in advance. Besides, there are almost no people in the tower now. The ritual will be easier to perform."
Naruko stood motionless, but her clenched fingers gave her away — she was barely holding back.
"The Hokage's scroll you helped me acquire turned out to be... quite useful," he said with vile satisfaction. "By the way, your former teacher Mizuki sends his heartfelt regards."
Menma frowned. "Why isn't his name in the Bingo Book yet?"
"The old man hasn't realized the scroll's missing," Orochimaru chuckled. "For Konoha, Mizuki simply disappeared. But now," his pupils narrowed, "enough talk about the jōnin of my Sound Village. Menma-kun, do you remember the terms of our agreement?"
"Of course," Menma replied evenly, though the air between them tightened like a drawn string.
"Say them out loud," Orochimaru's eyes glimmered like a snake's before a strike. "In detail."
"You'll help me and my sister become perfect jinchūriki," Menma said calmly, as if discussing class schedules. "In return, we'll relocate to your Sound Village. Conduct research. Develop fūinjutsu."
"And?" the snake's pupils thinned, as if trying to read his soul.
"And you'll have permanent access to our research logs," Menma finished, expression unchanged. "In essence, you'll act as our scientific supervisor."
Orochimaru smiled, pleased — like a teacher hearing the right answer.
"Excellent. I'm gathering the greatest minds in the Sound. Perhaps even my old partner will drop by. But…" he turned his head toward Naruko. "Why does your sister remain silent all the time?"
Menma cast a brief glance at her. Naruko stood with her hands clasped behind her back, clearly restraining herself from saying something she'd regret.
"She agrees as well," he said evenly.
"Splendid. Prepare to move after the exams. For now, show me your seal."
Menma removed his cloak, unzipped his jacket, and lifted his shirt. A complex pattern of fūinjutsu glowed faintly on his stomach — the prison holding the Kyūbi.
"The final masterpiece of Minato's genius," Orochimaru knelt down, his cold, slick hand sliding over the pattern like a serpent's skin. "Magnificent. A pity my sensei ruined the aesthetics…" He traced the extra lines from the Seal of Will and grimaced. "Remove this."
Menma nodded. As Hiruzen had warned, the seal held only by the host's willpower. All it took was wishing for the Kyūbi's strength — and the mark dissolved as if it had never existed.
Naruko froze, gripping the edge of her shirt.
"It's fine," Menma said quietly. "Just do it."
She clenched her teeth and followed his example. Kyūbi's chakra surged through her veins — dense, warm, like fire — along with a painful awareness that yet another thread of trust between them had snapped during this damned exam.
"The perfect jinchūriki. Absolute control over a bijū…" Orochimaru was openly admiring his own brilliance. "For over eighty years, the world's brightest minds struggled with this problem. Only I succeeded."
"Just like the Eight-Tails' host," Menma noted, mostly to pull the egomaniac back down to earth.
"That rapper merely befriended his monster," Orochimaru waved dismissively. "Any fool can do that. I created a method of total dominance. No dialogue, no friendship — only science and will. Perhaps my greatest creation."
He looked up at the ceiling, as if waiting for applause from the heavens. The twins just watched him silently.
"The procedure is complex, Menma-kun. Your body will be reshaped. It will hurt — a lot."
"Pain doesn't scare me," Menma replied. "Losing my appearance does."
"Don't worry. You won't change physically. Well… except for a small addition to your seal. Just, please, don't take off your shirt in front of my sensei until the exam ends. Let our partnership be a surprise."
Menma gave a short nod. Naruko still stood stiffly, as if afraid to breathe.
"Then let's begin," Orochimaru whispered. His nails elongated and sharpened, flames of chakra igniting on each — one for every element. "Lift your shirts."
They obeyed.
And the world exploded in pain.
Five claws dug into their stomachs, leaving burning symbols etched into their skin. The twins collapsed to their knees, writhing. Chakra boiled like molten metal, surging through their veins, searing them from within.
Orochimaru paid no attention to their agony. His hands moved faster than the eye could follow, forming seal after seal — dozens, hundreds. The ground moaned beneath them, rising into stone spikes that folded together like a coffin's lid. Lightning wrapped around it, scorching the air. Fire burned symbols into stone. Water compressed into a solid cap that slammed shut. Finally, paper tags of wind sealed the structure completely.
The Cursed Seal of Five Elements was complete.
Orochimaru exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. The jutsu had drained half his chakra, but his satisfied smirk never wavered. He hung a small sign on the barrel: "Getting stronger. Do not disturb."
And left — as if he'd never been there at all.
Inside the barrel, in suffocating heat and darkness, Menma and Naruko clung to each other. Chakra raged. Their hearts beat in sync. The world dissolved into a nightmare of hissing voices and slithering serpentine shadows.