Naruto: The Jumper twin .

POV: MENMA

I woke up, not because I wanted to, but because sleep betrayed me. The kind of restless wakefulness that gnaws at you, as if your own mind refused to let you rest. I stared at the ceiling, the weight of my thoughts pressing down harder than the darkness around me. Toneri was gone—probably retreated to his chambers to brood or meditate, who knows? That left me alone with the silence, which wasn't comforting. It was suffocating.

Without thinking, I jumped. The flicker of teleportation sparked through my body, and I landed back in my room. My fists clenched at my sides as I let out a frustrated sigh. The storm in my head wasn't letting up.

Naruto was holding up his end of the deal, doing what needed to be done. But me? I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I wasn't enough. Shisui's level? Forget that—I couldn't even beat Toneri. And the thought of facing the sage of six paths or Madara? It gnawed at me like a dog with a bone. My mission loomed like a shadow over me, mocking me. The damn statue felt like it was laughing, daring me to try.

How was I supposed to do this? To retrieve the statue when my head was a tangled mess of doubt and frustration? Every plan I came up with felt weak, a step behind. How do you fight legends? How do you even begin to stand against them?

It felt impossible.

I slumped down onto the floor, exhaling a long, slow breath. My room felt like a cage, the walls pressing in, but I didn't have the luxury to fall apart. If I couldn't pull myself together, I might as well hand the statue to Madara and call it a day.

Crossing my legs, I closed my eyes and forced my body to still. Meditation wasn't really my thing—I'm not exactly the poster boy for "calm and collected"—but desperation has a way of making you try things you'd normally scoff at. I needed focus. I needed clarity. If I was going to have a chance, I had to start with what I already had: my jumper ability.

Teleportation had saved my life more times than I could count, but right now, it was just a tool. It wasn't enough to survive—I needed it to be a weapon.

I focused on my chakra, feeling the faint hum of my jumper energy running through me. The mechanics of it, the way space folded and unfolded in an instant, flickered in my mind. What if I could shorten the time between jumps? No delay, no hesitation—just instant movement. They wouldn't even see me coming.

But what if speed wasn't enough? Could I fake jumps, leave afterimages to mislead my enemies? Pain's precision, Madara's foresight—they relied on reading their opponents. What if I could give them the wrong script entirely?

And then there was range. My current ability was limited to places I'd marked or had an image of in my mind, but what if I could push beyond that? Blind jumps. Teleporting to places I'd never been, creating openings where there were none.

The possibilities began to snowball. What if I could jump objects instead of just myself? Weapons, terrain—even jutsu. Imagine hurling an opponent's attack right back at them before they even realized what was happening.

Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. Why am I limiting myself? Am over looking my chakra ; it had its own untapped potential. "I've been ignoring the bigger picture," I muttered, my voice cutting through the silence. "If I can jump jutsu, I can weaponize everything else."

I opened my eyes, the storm in my mind finally settling into a clear direction. This wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever was. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a path forward.

"Step one," I said quietly, a flicker of determination sparking in my chest, "make the jumper ability my weapon."

I stood, ready to dive into training when the door burst open. Before I could even turn, something small and fast tackled me straight in the gut, sending me sprawling to the ground.

"So much for speed," I groaned, wheezing from the impact.

"Good morning, Menma-Nissan!" a familiar voice chirped. I didn't need to look to know who it was—the white hair with red tips was unmistakable. Naruko.

"Good morning to you too," I grumbled, trying to peel her off my stomach. "But unless you want me dead, could you please get off me?"

She ignored me completely, wrapping her arms around my neck like a boa constrictor. I pushed myself to my feet, her legs dangling as she giggled.

"Where's Naruto?" I asked in defeat.

"I'll never tell!" she declared, laughing maniacally.

Gods, I hate kids.

I jumped to the medical chambers, hoping to shake her off, but instead found myself in the middle of a toddler swarm. The other kids—all pale-skinned, white-haired with red strands—looked up at me like I was a shiny new toy. Before I could react, they attacked.

Now I had one clinging to my back, another wrapped around my leg, two latched onto my arms, and Shiro—the chunky one—squeezing the life out of my lungs.

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" I shouted, trying to shake them off.

"Again!" they screamed as I jumped to the dining hall, hoping to disorient them. But instead of letting go, they shrieked with laughter.

"Somebody help me!" I pleaded, the weight of the kids nearly snapping my spine. Two servants rushed over, prying them off one by one. Naruko, of course, was the most resistant, tightening her hold on my neck like she was trying to strangle me.

"Let go, Naruko," Shisui's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. His tone was calm, but firm—the voice of someone who these little rascals actually listened to.

Naruko huffed, finally letting go. She stomped off, muttering something about me being "no fun" under her breath.

I slumped against the wall, exhausted. Between training, and babysitting the mini Ōtsutsuki army, I wasn't sure what was going to kill me first.

But I'd be damned if I let it be these kids.

The dining hall buzzed with chaos. The long table, usually a place of quiet meals, was now a warzone. The kids were scattered, some climbing on chairs, others using utensils as weapons in mock battles. Naruko was leading the charge, waving a fork like it was a kunai, screaming, "Charge!"

I sat at the far end of the table, face buried in my hands. "This is my life now," he muttered to himself. Across from him, Toneri was calmly sipping his tea, completely ignoring the pandemonium.

Naruto sat beside Menma, quietly munching on a rice ball. His serene demeanor stood in stark contrast to the chaos. A piece of rice stuck to his cheek, but he didn't seem to notice—or care.

"Are you just going to sit there and let this happen?" Menma asked Naruto, gesturing wildly to the kids.

Naruto shrugged. "They're not hurting anyone."

"Yet," Menma shot back, watching as Shiro attempted to stab a sausage with a kunai-shaped chopstick.

At the head of the table, Shisui sat with his usual calm air, eating his breakfast with precision. He seemed completely unaffected by the mayhem. In fact, he even looked amused.

"Shisui, can't you do something?" Menma asked, exasperated.

Shisui smiled without looking up. "Why? You're doing such a great job supervising."

Toneri set down his tea with a sigh. "These kids are a direct result of your genetic experiments, Naruto. You're responsible for this chaos."

"I didn't create them!" Naruto snapped. "I just happen to live here, unfortunately."

As if to punctuate his statement, Naruko launched a piece of toast across the room, hitting Menma square in the face. Shisui chuckled softly.

"You know," Shisui said, his tone light, "this could be considered combat training for you."

"Combat training?!" Menma growled, peeling the toast off his face. "This is torture!"

Naruto suppressed a small laugh, his lips twitching slightly. Toneri raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the servants managed to wrangle the kids out of the dining hall, leaving behind a scene of carnage: spilled drinks, crumbs, and a fork embedded in the wall.

Menma sighed, slumping back in his chair. "I need a break from this madness."

"You're in luck," Shisui said, standing up and brushing off his robes. "You, Naruto, and Toneri have training this morning."

Menma groaned. "Great. Let's trade babysitting for torture."

POV:NARRATOR

The training grounds were vast, an expanse of barren earth bordered by jagged cliffs and scattered boulders. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine from the surrounding forest. Menma, Toneri, and Naruto stood side by side, facing Shisui, who watched them with a calm yet calculating gaze.

The session began with weight training. Shisui had tied heavy seals to each of their ankles and wrists, his expectations clear: endurance, speed, and strength.

"Start with ten laps around the field," Shisui instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Menma grumbled as he adjusted the weights. "You know, I could just jump and save us all some time."

Shisui's eyebrow arched. "And miss out on building actual stamina? Be my guest. But when your legs give out mid-fight, don't blame me."

Toneri said nothing, already starting his laps at a steady pace. Naruto followed humming, his expression energised as always. Menma groaned but joined in, his strides heavier with the added weight.

By the tenth lap, Naruto was visibly struggling. "This... is... stupid," he panted.

"You're falling behind," Toneri said, not even winded.

Naruto shot him a glare. "I hate you."

Menma passed Baruto without a word, his pace slowed with heavy breaths.

When they finally finished, Shisui greeted them with an infuriatingly calm smile. "Good. Now for the fun part."

"Define 'fun,'" Menma muttered, gasping for breath.

Shisui gestured to the clearing. "A three-way spar. All three of you. No holding back."

Toneri's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of interest crossing his usually stoic face. Naruto removed his haori, his expression strained in fatigue. Menma groaned again, but deep down, he was already planning his moves.

The spar began with a burst of motion. Naruto moved first, multiple chakra threads around his fists like a glove to give them a cutting edge. He closed the distance between Toneri and himself, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks that Toneri deflected with calm precision.

Menma hung back for a moment, " Going after the big fish already," he muttered before teleporting behind Toneri, aiming a strike at his blind spot.

Toneri reacted instantly, spinning to block Menma's attack while countering Naruto's strikes.

But despite their best efforts, none of them could gain a clear advantage.

"Enough!" Shisui's voice rang out, stopping the spar.

The three combatants froze, panting and bruised.

"Now," Shisui said, his Sharingan spinning lazily, "all three of you... against me."

Menma's eyes widened. "Are you serious? You just watched us nearly kill each other!"

Shisui smirked. "Exactly. I want you tired. It's the only way this will be fair."

Toneri cracked his knuckles, a rare smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Naruto stepped forward, his eyes burning with quiet determination.

Menma sighed, bracing himself. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

Shisui's smirk widened. "Oh, absolutely."

And with that, the real fight began.

# How long will it take to make our menma to get overpowered? It gets more interesting from here. Thank you for reading. Send a review and comment with your honest thoughts about the progress of the fanfic#