"What do you mean there's only going to be one Uzumaki?" Karin adjusted her glasses, staring at Menma as if he'd just announced that the Hokage had sentenced them all to death. "How is that even possible?"
Menma glanced around. The empty staircase hummed with distant voices — other participants and proctors were already heading upstairs. Here, between floors, they were alone.
"Rigged fights," he said quietly, like he was sharing a secret people lost their tongues for. "Everything's decided ahead of time. They already know who'll make it to the third round. The 'random draw' is just for show. They'll pit the strong against the weak so the results look natural."
He paused, squinting slightly as his gaze met Karin's.
"To be blunt, you're not a priority for the higher-ups. Chances are, they'll throw you against someone like Gaara or Sasuke. That's not a fight, that's an execution. So if that happens, surrender right away. Don't try to be a hero, don't give them a spectacle."
The air seemed to grow heavier. Karin clenched her fists, and her glasses slid dangerously down her nose. Naruko stood beside her, eyes flicking between them.
"Hey," she finally cut in. "Brother, don't you think you're overthinking this a bit?" She tilted her head, giving him a doubtful look. "I mean, sure, we live in a ninja village, but you see conspiracies in ramen. Maybe it's just an exam, not some Hokage-led coup?"
Menma smirked. "Just watch. If I'm wrong, I'll buy you ramen. Two bowls. With egg."
Naruko instantly brightened and gave him a thumbs-up. "Deal!"
But Karin didn't relax. She frowned, studying Menma's face. "Wait, I see a flaw in your theory," she said quietly. "If they're knocking out the weak with the strong, then how are they planning to get rid of either of you? There's no one here who could actually beat you two."
Menma's smile widened a little too much. "You'll see."
The twins each took one of Karin's hands, and the trio climbed the stairs. The upper hall buzzed with noise — mentors, remaining candidates, spectators. The air smelled of sweat, metal, and adrenaline.
"Oh, there you are," Yamato-sensei greeted them at the entrance. "I was just about to go looking for my brilliant team. Would've been awkward if the record-holders of the second stage were late for the preliminaries. By the way, I'm proud of you!"
"Our success is thanks to you, Yamato-sensei," Karin replied with perfect politeness. "You trained with us every day. And on missions, we defeated A-rank nukenin..."
The surrounding chatter of mentors gradually died down. A few heads turned their way. Even Kakashi — the one man who almost never showed emotion behind that mask — seemed to pause for a fraction of a second.
"Oh, Karin, no need to praise me like that," Yamato said theatrically, waving a hand, though his face clearly screamed: please, go on.
Naruko was already getting bored with the flood of compliments. "We'll go join the others," she muttered and dragged her brother and Karin deeper into the hall, leaving their sensei basking in the spotlight.
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead," Yamato murmured without even looking, still busy accepting congratulations from his colleagues.
Team Eleven joined their classmates. The foreign teams kept to themselves, as did Rock Lee's group, who were chatting animatedly — clearly already psyching themselves up for the fights.
A minute later, the Hokage appeared on the balcony, flanked by Anko, Ibiki, and several instructors. The rest of the officials left the hall — apparently, unnecessary spectators had been dismissed.
The noise faded. Anko straightened and spoke into the microphone. "Alright, ready?" Her voice echoed off the walls. "Good. Take a look at the screen."
One of the monitors flared to life. The tension in the air grew thick, electric.
"You'll see random pairs of fighters appear here," Anko went on, a predatory smile curving her lips. "Let's begin."
A "roulette" of names spun across the display. The letters flashed too fast to read. Every participant found themselves thinking: please, not me...
The hall held its breath. When the blur finally stopped, the screen flashed — and revealed the first matchup:
Abumi Zaku vs. Aburame Shino.
"Those called, step down," said the referee's raspy voice — Gekkō Hayate — followed by his trademark cough echoing through the arena.
"Well, there you go. Konoha's already feeding the foreigners to the wolves," Menma muttered, leaning on the railing. His tone was calm, but irritation flickered in his eyes.
"You think Zaku's weak?" Karin asked, narrowing her eyes behind the lenses. Down below, a smug-looking boy with short hair and a cocky expression had just landed on the arena floor — the look of someone who'd already decided he'd won. "He seems confident enough."
"I know Shino," Menma replied simply, as if that explained everything. "He wasn't top of our class only because my sister and I were in it."
Karin smirked faintly, and nearby — as if he'd heard — Shino adjusted his glasses and gave them a barely noticeable nod.
He was about to head down the stairs when someone caught his arm. Sasuke.
"I fought him in the Forest of Death," the Uchiha said quietly but firmly. "His arms have built-in air ducts. The wind cutters can slice through trees."
"Thank you for the warning," Shino replied without changing tone. "But Hinata has already informed me about the abilities of all participants."
"I just gathered the data," Hinata interjected, blushing slightly under their gazes. "My team reached the tower second, so I had time. I thought it might help."
"Good to know the alliance between our teams still holds," Menma said with a smirk, leaning on the railing. The others nodded, showing silent agreement.
"Of course," Hinata smiled gently and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're friends, after all. And by the way, we only came in second because you locked Gaara in another dimension."
"Minor details," Menma waved lazily, as if it were about yesterday's walk.
As Shino descended the stairs, Menma found himself surprised — he hadn't expected such a generous gesture from Sasuke.
He cast him a sidelong glance and murmured, "Didn't know you were the sharing type."
Sasuke didn't take his eyes off the arena. "You can't charge for saving a comrade," he said firmly. "That's what Obito would've done."
[Ouch… every time, it hurts to think how hard he'll break when he learns the truth about his hero.]
Down in the arena, the two opponents were already facing each other. Zaku wore a smug grin, both arms intact. Apparently, without Orochimaru's curse mark influencing Sasuke, he hadn't crippled him in this version.
[The fight might go completely differently this time.]
"Kh–khm…" Gekkō Hayate coughed and raised his hand. "First match. Begin!"
"You'll end up crippled for life if you don't surrender now," Shino said evenly, not even taking a fighting stance.
"Screw you!" Zaku barked and charged forward, fist swinging straight for his opponent's face.
"What an idiot," Menma groaned, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "A long-range fighter going for close combat — that's not confidence, that's a clinical diagnosis of stupidity."
Naruko snorted into her fist, Sasuke gave a quiet huff of amusement, and Karin seemed genuinely puzzled how that guy had made it through the previous two stages at all.
Shino didn't move. His fingers flashed through a short sequence of hand seals — and Zaku suddenly froze, sensing danger, then leapt back. A faint breeze rippled through the hall.
"He converted chakra into a wind element?" Karin whispered, surprised, narrowing her eyes. "At his age?.. That's impressive."
Apparently, Zaku heard the praise directed at his opponent. "That's your wind?!" he yelled angrily. "All it did was mess up my hair!"
Shino just slipped his hands into his pockets. His face, hidden behind dark glasses, remained unreadable.
"I don't get it," Ino muttered, leaning forward. "Why did Shino stop? That technique was weak — rank E, at best."
Hinata smiled softly, while Kiba, on the contrary, grinned from ear to ear. Menma narrowed his eyes predatorily — his animal-like pupils caught how Shino's gentle breeze carried tiny insect shadows and quietly scattered them across Zaku's clothes.
"The fight's already over," Menma said quietly.
"You'll end up crippled, just like I said," Shino stated calmly, watching the bugs crawl into the ventilation slits on Zaku's palms. "If you don't want that — surrender."
"Screw you!" Zaku screamed, losing his composure. "I'll show you what real wind looks like!"
He raised his arms toward his opponent — the air vibrated, but instead of an attack there was a wet pop. His arms exploded at the elbows. The right one hit the tiles, the left hung by scraps of skin and tendon.
The crowd recoiled. Shouts rippled through the hall.
Unflinching, Shino stepped forward, appeared behind Zaku, and said something short — his strike landed neatly at the base of the neck. Zaku dropped to his knees and collapsed face-first, unconscious.
Silence fell for a second.
"Winner: Aburame Shino," Gekkō rasped.
Medics were already carrying Zaku away — he looked like a broken doll, and the hastily wrapped bandages on his arms were quickly darkening with blood. The smell of iron lingered over the arena.
Meanwhile, Shino calmly made his way back upstairs. There was no pride or showy triumph in his steps — as if he'd simply completed a task and was returning to his seat.
"Congratulations, Shino-kun," Hinata said warmly.
"Yeah! You totally crushed it!" Kiba added, patting him on the shoulder.
"I hope success will favor you as well," Shino replied flatly, taking his place beside them.
"Eyes on the screen!" Anko's cheerful voice boomed from the speakers. "Next opponents!"
The names began to spin across the display, and the hall fell silent. After a few seconds, the blur stopped — and the screen flashed:
Uzumaki Menma vs. Uzumaki Naruko.
A pause hung in the air. The buzz of the crowd cut off instantly, as if someone had turned the volume dial to zero.
Karin gasped and pressed her hands to her face. In her eyes flashed the realization — that's how they plan to leave only one of the strongest standing.
Menma looked at his sister. Their eyes met, and in that moment, everything was clear without a word. Naruko exhaled slowly. No anger, no surprise — just quiet understanding that her brother had been right all along.
[Hiruzen's pulling strings again.]
"Those called, step down to the arena," Hayate announced in a weary tone.
The twins leaned against the railing in perfect sync, mirror images of each other. Same movement, same mocking ease.
"So," Menma asked casually, examining his nails, "what'll you do after the exam?"
"Oh, so many plans," Naruko drawled, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "I think I'll stop by Ichiraku first and pick up Kaguya-chan. Ayame-chan's probably squeezed my poor rabbit to death by now."
"Fair price for babysitting," Menma replied without looking up. "I'm surprised you even thought to ask someone for help."
"Yeah," Naruko chuckled. "I was going to leave a clone with her, but Ayame-chan begged me so sweetly..."
"Hey! What are you two talking about?!" Kiba blurted out, staring at them in disbelief. "You're being called!"
The twins didn't even seem to hear him.
"Maybe we should go to the movies after the exam?" Menma suggested as if nothing unusual was happening.
"Great idea, brother," Naruko replied just as calmly.
Confused silence spread over the arena. Ino's mouth fell open. Kiba froze with his hand half-raised. It looked like someone was about to grab the Uzumakis by the collars and throw them down themselves.
Meanwhile, Sasuke and Shikamaru exchanged brief looks and faint smirks — both clearly understood that the twins were playing by their own rules.
"You have one minute to step down!" Hayate raised his voice. "Otherwise — disqualification!"
At that moment, Yamato appeared beside them, his face a mix of horror, confusion, and quiet despair.
"What do you think you're doing?!" he hissed, looking from brother to sister. "They'll actually kick you out!"
Naruko gave him a tired look. "Yamato-sensei," she said softly but firmly, "do you really think anyone could make me fight my own brother?"
Yamato's jaw dropped. His words got stuck somewhere between you've got to be kidding me and fair point.
"Besides," Menma added lazily, stretching, "we have a joint fighting style. There's no point in one of us advancing alone. It's like giving a client just one boot."
"At least one of you could've become a chunin," Yamato tried weakly to argue, though it sounded more like a plea than logic.
"Then all the more reason," Naruko shot back sharply and slammed her fist against the railing. The metal groaned, leaving a dent. "We always move together. And we'll climb the ranks together too."
Yamato just sighed, spread his hands helplessly, and glanced toward the referee — I tried.
"Uzumaki twins — disqualified," Hayate announced dryly.
The hall erupted. Some shouted in protest, others laughed. Rock Lee was yelling something about the indomitable power of youth! Several instructors exchanged puzzled looks, unsure if this was an act of rebellion or loyalty.
And Gaara… Gaara just stood there, radiating a cold so intense the air itself seemed to thicken. He'd been burning for revenge, replaying in his mind how he'd crush their eyes with his sand in the finals — and now this. His glare could have scorched through steel. The twins stuck out their tongues at him in perfect sync.
Gaara flushed, his fingers twitching, as if he was about to bury them alive right there.
Menma looked up toward the Hokage's balcony. Hiruzen sat utterly calm — no anger, no surprise. Just a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
[Looks like he expected this outcome all along.]
"Damn, that sucks," Karin said quietly, rushing over to hug both twins. "You went through so much for this exam, and now you're out because of stupid politics."
Menma gently pulled back, smiling. "Karin," he said seriously, "it's up to you now. Someone still has to represent the Uzumaki clan in this exam."
His gaze hardened. "And now, that someone is you."