Naruto: Twin's Glory

[aizenDuchiha0]

The light seeped through the cracks of the curtain, catching the floating dust in golden beams as it hit his face. The sudden brightness made him groan. He grabbed a pillow, tossed it over his head, and tried to drift back into sleep. His frown slowly faded as sleep began to reclaim him—until a sharp pain in his stomach and a rush of air forced into his lungs jolted him awake.
He blinked furiously, only to see a silhouette sitting on his stomach.

"Hey, little brother. It's 8:45 AM. You don't want to be late on your first day of school, do you?"

The voice was irritatingly cheerful—and painfully familiar. His twin brother.

"It hurts, you idiot," he grunted, shoving his brother off the bed.

"Tchh," came the annoyed sound of protest.
He ignored the groaning and looked toward the table. There sat a diary, a note, and a clock glaring back at him with bright red numbers: 8:45 AM.

"Ahhh! You idiot! I told you to wake me up at 7!" he shouted.

"I did wake you up," his brother said nonchalantly, now standing beside the bed and pointing to the piece of paper. It read:"Wake up. It's 7:00 AM."

Before he could launch a verbal assault, his brother had vanished from the room.

"ASHER!!" he shouted.
------------------
Asher's POV
I winced at the distant roar echoing through the house. Liam, obviously. Again.

I was deep into watching the final Naruto vs. Sasuke battle while munching on my breakfast—eggs and toast. Just as Naruto charged up a Rasengan, I felt a sudden shove and my face landed right in my eggs.

"Oh! You're watching the final fight? Let me spoil it for you. They lose their arms."

"LIAM!" I groaned, yanking my head up, yolk dripping off my cheek.

"That's what you get for pranking me," he huffed smugly.

Before I could retaliate, our dad walked in, voice calm but with that serious edge.

"Asher, behave yourself. And you, Liam—you overslept on your first day of school."

Our mother sat silently on the other side of the table, sipping tea as if she were watching a very familiar scene in a very boring play. She didn't say a word. Just calmly kept eating.

End of POV
----------------
The twins sat in silence, finishing the rest of their breakfast with the kind of truce that only exists until the next fight. The sound of a bus horn echoed from the front yard.

"The bus!" they both shouted in unison.

They grabbed their bags and bolted out the door. At the gate, they were already bickering about who should get on first.

"Move it, kids!" the bus driver barked.

Asher shoved Liam and jumped in first. Liam shot him a glare and scrambled in after.

The door slammed shut behind them as the bus pulled away—leaving the chaos of home behind, but carrying a whole new one down the road.
The bus roared down the highway, its tires grinding against the wet asphalt. Rain had just stopped, leaving the roads slick and dangerous. The driver, distracted and weary, missed the stop sign ahead. The impact was sudden—a violent lurch as the bus slammed into a thick tree trunk with a sickening crunch of metal and shattering glass. Screams echoed in the air, then silence.
Inside, bodies lay crumpled. Many were injured; a few didn't make it.

Among them, Liam lay motionless, unconscious. Beside him, Asher sobbed, his face streaked with tears and blood. A gash on his head dripped crimson down onto Liam's pale face. "Liam… Liam, please wake up," Asher whispered desperately, shaking his brother gently. But Liam didn't move.

Sirens pierced the quiet aftermath, and soon paramedics arrived. Asher was relieved when he heard someone say Liam still had a pulse. They were rushed to the hospital, the medics doing their best to stabilize both boys.

At the hospital, the news was grim. Liam had survived but was in a deep coma with a critically damaged heart. Asher, however, had suffered irreversible brain damage. Scans confirmed the worst—he was brain dead. Machines kept his body alive, but his mind was gone.

The doctor gathered the parents into a small, sterile room. His voice was calm but heavy. "Are you their parents?"

"Yes," their father answered, voice hoarse.

"I'm very sorry," the doctor said, "Asher is brain dead. There's no chance of recovery. But… Liam's heart is failing. There is a chance—if we perform a transplant. Asher's heart could save Liam's life. It's a painful decision, I know."

The father clenched his jaw, torn between grief and love. "What about Asher?"

The doctor lowered his eyes. There was no answer.

After a long silence, the mother finally spoke, her voice trembling. "We agree to the heart transplant."

The hospital staff moved quickly. The operating room was prepped, surgeons scrubbed in. Asher was wheeled into the OR one last time, his hand still warm but lifeless. Liam, unconscious and pale, was brought in next.

The surgery was long, delicate, and precise. Hours passed before the lead surgeon stepped out with a tired nod. "The transplant was successful."

---

Higher Realm

But elsewhere, far beyond the physical realm, in a place untouched by time or life…

A flame danced endlessly in the void, shifting and flickering until it formed the shape of an 11-year-old boy. His hair was snowy white, streaked with strands of dark red. His eyes held no emotion as he raised his hand, summoning a floating book that flipped open on its own.

"This has gone far too long," the boy said, his voice distant and eerie. "No one has been able to entertain me."

An old man with eyes full of ancient wisdom bowed deeply. "B-but My Lord… Only one of the brothers has died. What of the other?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't matter. He will not be able to live either way."

And the book began to burn.

---

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[aizenDuchiha0]

Wing B – General Ward
Night fell quietly, cloaking the hospital in an eerie silence. Time was an unknown blur. The only sound that dared to break the stillness was the rhythmic pulsing and beeping of an ECG monitor—its echo danced down the empty corridors, a soft but steady reminder that life, however fragile, still lingered within these walls.

At the nurse's station, under the dim glow of a flickering fluorescent light, a lone duty nurse sat slouched over her paperwork. Sleep tugged heavily at her eyes. Her head dipped forward as her eyelids lost their battle—until she jolted awake with a sharp gasp, barely missing the edge of the desk with her forehead.

"Man… I don't get paid enough for these night shifts," she muttered, rubbing her face. Her body protested every step as she made her way toward the water dispenser, trying to shake off the haze. She glanced down the hall, instinct drawing her toward the patients' rooms.

She opened the door to Liam's room, expecting the usual. But something felt wrong—off. Her eyes snapped to the ECG. The heartbeat pattern was erratic, uneven. Panic settled in her chest.

"No, no, no…" she breathed, then turned on her heel and sprinted back to the desk. With shaky hands, she picked up the receiver and pressed the emergency button. "Code blue! I need the duty doctor now!"

Within minutes, the Duty Doctor arrived, coat flapping as he rushed in. The moment he saw the monitor, his face turned pale. He moved quickly, performing chest compressions, checking vitals, administering medication—all while barking orders. But no matter what he tried, the beeping slowed… and slowed…

…until it stopped.

A heavy silence swallowed the room whole.

The doctor let out a slow, defeated breath, his hands hovering above Liam's now-still chest. He looked over at the nurse, eyes dark with sorrow, and quietly said, "Call the patient's parents."

Ten Minutes Later…

The hallway filled with hurried footsteps and panicked breathing. Liam's mother and father arrived, still clinging to a shred of hope—only to have it shattered the moment they saw the doctor's expression.

The mother's legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed to the floor, a cry caught in her throat. Her face twisted with a pain too deep to scream. Her hands trembled as they reached out, searching for something, anything, to hold on to. But there was nothing.

The father stood frozen for a heartbeat before rage surged through his veins. He stormed toward the doctor, fists clenched, grief mixing with fury. He grabbed the front of the doctor's coat and shoved him against the wall.

"You said Liam could live!" he shouted, voice cracking. "You said he could live if he had Asher's heart. You killed him! You let him die! You killed him!"

The doctor didn't resist. He stared into the man's eyes, his own voice soft and broken. "I understand, sir… I truly do. Please… calm down."

The father's strength gave out, the fire in his chest replaced by hollow sorrow. He let go, falling to his knees beside his wife. His arms wrapped around her trembling body as they wept together—two broken souls mourning the loss of the last piece of their family.

After some time, the father numbly stood and went to fulfill the formalities. Papers, signatures, documents—each stroke of the pen felt like betrayal.

Meanwhile, the mother remained seated on the cold floor, her eyes fixed ahead, wide and unblinking. Her gaze seemed to pierce through time itself.

She looked alive, but something in her had died.

Dead Realm – The Higher Plane

Far removed from the grief-stricken world below, an endless void stretched across eternity. Darkness and light danced together in silence, neither winning nor losing. Here, time flowed differently. Souls drifted aimlessly, unanchored and unknowing—until two faint glimmers began to move toward each other.

No eyes could see them, yet something in the fabric of this plane responded to their presence. The souls drew closer, circling each other, their motion instinctive and intimate—two halves of the same whole, recognizing one another beyond time and death.

Above them, a boy watched. No older than eleven, he stood barefoot in the air, robes flowing around him like wind-touched water. His eyes, ancient and deep, bore the weight of countless centuries.

He raised a single finger and uttered a phrase no mortal ear could comprehend: "#$%^%$$)*$&^%$#."

It was the divine tongue—known only to the few who dwelled in this high realm. The command pulsed through existence, summoning forth a radiant throne behind him, his form shimmered… and split.

Two 11-year old boys emerged- eerily alike, their eyes glowing with ethereal energy. In front of them, the twin souls had begun to stir.

The one of the Two 11-year old boys flicked his finger again.

The twin souls shuddered… then reignited, Awareness flickered like candlelight in their eyes.

---

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[aizenDuchiha0]

Do you think this idea is any good. I couldn't find the time to continue. I wrote till chapter 35.

 

[aizenDuchiha0]

Asher's POV
I tried to open my eyes—only to shut them again as a blinding light pierced through. It wasn't sunlight. It was something more intense, more divine. I blinked several times, letting my eyes slowly adjust to the overwhelming brightness that surrounded me. The moment I could see clearly, a strange realization washed over me like a wave.

I was dead.

Somehow, I just knew. The last thing I remembered was being on the school bus with Liam lying unconscious on my lap. There had been blood, screams, flashing lights. The paramedics had rushed in and pulled him from my arms, their voices urgent but distant. And then… nothing.

A strange calm settled over me as I thought of Liam. I had hoped—still hoped—that he made it. That the doctors had done what they said they could. That he was still alive. That my sacrifice hadn't been in vain. From the bits i could hear when i was barely conscious.

A sigh escaped my lips, a mixture of longing and uncertainty. I couldn't know for sure, not from this place—this… void. I looked around.

I was standing in what looked like space, yet it wasn't cold. There were no stars, only soft shimmers and occasional flashes of cosmic light far off in the distance. Time felt like it had slowed to a crawl—as if everything moved at the pace of a snail's breath. I could hear nothing, yet feel everything. It was peaceful. Still. But also, deeply unsettling.

And then I saw him.

A boy stood some distance ahead of me. He looked no older than eleven, yet everything about him screamed otherwise. His white hair shimmered like moonlight, streaked with crimson strands that flickered like living fire. His eyes were calm and glowed with something ancient. His presence felt… absolute.

He stared at me with a neutral expression, as though he had been expecting me.

After a few moments of silence, I gathered enough courage to speak. "Are you… also dead?"

The boy didn't answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head and then let out a sudden, mad laugh—a laugh that shattered the stillness around us. The space cracked like glass around him, fissures stretching across the void. The very ground beneath me trembled, and I dropped to my knees, clutching my head in disorientation.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the chaos faded. The cracks vanished as though they had never been. The stillness returned.

"I control life, death, creation and destruction, time and space… in this place," he said calmly, as though nothing had happened.

I stared at him, heart racing. At first, I thought he was joking. But the tremble in my bones—the feeling of being reduced to nothing in his presence—told me otherwise. I shoved that doubt deep into the back of my mind and forced myself to stay calm. I couldn't afford to anger someone like him.

He took a step closer and continued, "I brought you here."

"What?" I blinked, surprised. "You… brought me here? Why?"

The boy smiled, almost playfully. "Because I'm bored."

"…Excuse me?" I wasn't sure if I'd heard that right.

"I've watched countless lives, witnessed entire civilizations rise and fall. But now, I want entertainment. And you… you'll be part of it," he said, sitting cross-legged in the air like a child during storytime.

"You mean… you brought me here just because you're bored?" I asked, unsure whether to be scared or offended.

"Exactly. And now, I'm going to reincarnate you—into a world of your choice."

That startled me. "Wait. Reincarnate? You mean… like in those anime and manga stories?"

"Yes," he nodded. "You choose the world, and I'll send you there."

My mind raced. If he could bring me here, he could probably send me back—or erase me entirely. I had no power in this place. I needed to choose wisely.
I closed my eyes and thought deeply. After a few moments, I said cautiously, "I'd like to go to the Naruto world."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh! Interesting choice. You've chosen a mid-to-high level world. That place is… familiar. One of my creations, Shibai Ōtsutsuki, stole a sliver of my power and used it to shape that universe."

He frowned, a rare crack in his otherwise calm demeanor. "That theft… was a nuisance," he muttered.

I froze. Shiba Ōtsutsuki? Who was that? I'd never even heard of him. All I knew was that Kaguya Ōtsutsuki was the final boss in Naruto. What kind of story wasn't I told?

The boy stood again and extended his hand toward the cosmos. "Let's see. Hm… there's currently a branch clan member of the Ōtsutsuki sealed in the ninja world. That'll make things interesting. Very well, I'll send you to the Naruto world."

I felt a sudden pang of regret. If I had known this was going to be that complicated, maybe I would've picked a slice-of-life world. But it was too late now.

"There's no point crying over it," I told myself. "I just need to survive. But if I'm going into that world, I'll need something… powerful. A cheat. No, several cheats."

The boy looked at me, amused, as if he could read my thoughts. "You get to choose a special ability. Choose wisely, because the world you've picked is not forgiving."

I took a breath and began thinking seriously. What kind of ability would keep me alive in the Naruto world? Something beyond chakra, something that could rival Ōtsutsuki…

The choices were endless—and terrifying.

---

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[aizenDuchiha0]

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[aizenDuchiha0]

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Asher's POV:

Firstly, I need a good balance - offense, defense, and escape ability. I'm not walking into a world of chakra monsters and god-tier shinobi with nothing but hope and vibes. Strategy is my edge. If I mess this up now, I might as well throw myself off a cliff the second I open my eyes as a baby.

I rule out being clanless immediately. That's a death sentence unless I'm given something insane like Truth-Seeking Orbs in diapers.

Hyuga? No. It's too rigid. Byakugan is strong, sure, but its evolution path is narrow. The Tenseigan requires absurd conditions - Ōtsutsuki lineage or stolen eyes and I'm not about to gamble my future on some moonblood lottery. And then there's the Caged Bird Seal. I know what that system does. I won't be branded. I won't be leashed. Freedom matters. I won't be a tool.

Senju? Tempting. They were once legends. But strip away Hashirama, and what's left? A clan of well-rounded, above-average shinobi with good chakra reserves. Even Tobirama - brilliant, brutal, and resourceful - was just a tactical genius with water style and forbidden jutsu that came at steep cost. No built-in hacks. No built-in trump cards. I need a bloodline that grants power, not just history.

Uchiha... Yeah. That's the one.

They call their eyes the "mirror of the soul." Melodramatic as it sounds, I know it's true. Sharingan. Mangekyō. Eternal Mangekyō. Their path is brutal, but it rewards those who endure. The chakra cost is high, sure, but solvable. Tailed beasts. Chakra batteries like the Ryūmyaku. Ancient energy sources like the Dragon Vein in the Land of Wind. The resources exist. If I'm clever, if I plan for it, I'll be fine.

Now the real question: when to be born?

Naruto-era? Not a chance. No time to grow. By the time I get good, the major events will already be rolling and Itachi's massacre is a ticking time bomb I can't defuse. With god-tier players like Madara, Obito, Nagato, and literal aliens floating around, I'd be background noise at best. Cannon fodder at worst.

Warring States Era? Now that's different.

It's bloody. Merciless. Horrifying. But it's also an opportunity. Uchiha kids were thrown onto the battlefield at three years old. If I survive, I won't just be strong. I'll be forged in fire. Sharper, colder, more dangerous than any shinobi trained in peace. If I can make it out of childhood, I'll be a predator in a world of prey.

I stare at the boy. His expression hasn't changed still watching me with mild interest, like I'm a fish deciding which tank to jump into.

"Can I choose when to be born? Clan? And powers?" I ask, cautious but firm.

He yawns and waves a hand. "Whatever," he says, like it's the most boring request anyone's ever made.

Relief floods through me. Now the real game begins.

I settle on the Uchiha clan, born during the Warring States era before Madara and Hashirama reach their peak. That gives me time. Space to move. Room to rise. It's going to be hell. But if I survive, I'll carve my name into the world as a legend.

Now, for the eyes.

I already know the first: Kakuritsugan (確率眼) - The Probability Eye. Subtle, but lethal. It won't make me invincible, but it'll make me impossibly hard to kill. It lets me bend fate just enough. Turn near misses into hits. Twist lethal strikes into glancing blows. Navigate combat like a chessboard where I always move first. See the odds, feel the flow of choice and consequence, and tilt them in my favor.

But that's not enough. I need a way out. A true escape. Something that saves me from the irreversible.

Saigengan (再現眼) - The Recall Eye. A temporal checkpoint ability. I can create multiple "save states" and revert to them when needed. It's not time travel. it's self-contained, limited, personal. But it's perfect. For clutch escapes. For rewriting mortal mistakes. For surviving the impossible. Like rewinding my own death.

I speak clearly, heart pounding but voice steady.

"I want to be reborn into the Uchiha clan, during the Warring States era. My eye powers: Kakuritsugan and Saigengan. And I want to avoid the blindness drawback."

The boy finally reacts, just slightly. Same bored tone, but there's a flicker of something like amusement behind it.

"The powers are... interesting. You've thought this out well," he says. "But no can do on avoiding blindness. Not unless you reach the EMS. That's just how the universe works."

I sigh. Expected that. No problem.

"Then I want a Sage Body instead," I say. "I'll take the burden of the eyes, if I have the stamina to carry them."

That gets a grin out of him. Something sharp and distant. Like a judge enjoying the boldness of the accused.

For a moment, silence.

Then a flick of his finger.

A burst of light erupts from his fingertip. Not deafening, not loud. Just absolute. It hits me like lightning and yet feels like warm water pouring through every inch of my being. I feel my soul stretch pulling away from the void, unraveling, and weaving into something new.

I don't get to say goodbye.

Not that I had anyone left to say it to.

---

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