Avenge of the Uzumaki Twins: Naruto and Menma Chapter 11 CHAPTER 11

Naruto stepped down, his cheerful and confident look radiating across the room.

Without the six fox whisker marks, his entire temperant was completely different from how he appeared in the original tiline. Paired with his handso features, Naruto easily stole the attention of all his peers present at that mont.

The little girls, who before had eyes only for Sasuke, were now staring at Naruto with wide, sparkling, almost obsessed eyes.

After all, compared to Sasuke—

The aura surrounding Naruto was obviously much stronger!

The Uchiha were indeed one of the great clans in Konoha, but could even their prestige compare to the position of the Hokage? Not to ntion, the Fourth Hokage had died protecting the village only six years ago. This naturally added a special glow to Naruto, the son of the village's hero.

"Master Naruto is so handso!"

"As expected of the Fourth Hokage's son!"

"Master Naruto will definitely beco a great shinobi like the Fourth in the future!"

"Ah! What do I do now? I like both Sasuke-kun and Master Naruto!"

"It's impossible to choose!!!"

The noise of excitent was overwhelming.

These little kids practically wanted to glue their eyes onto Naruto.

"…Hmph."

And Sasuke—who had always been the center of attention—felt a twinge of displeasure.

He didn't really care about those squealing fangirls, but as a child, it was only natural to feel annoyed when the spotlight that had once been solely his was suddenly stolen.

"Ahem. Everyone, settle down."

A firm voice cut through the chatter.

"Since you're all here, let's begin. I am your horoom teacher for the next six years, and I will also be the one responsible for teaching you the theory of being a shinobi—Umino Iruka. I expect each of you to take your studies seriously, to train hard, and to grow into shinobi who won't disappoint your parents, your teachers, or your village."

Iruka stood at the podium, his hands firm on the desk, his expression serious as he looked over the fifty or so students sitting below.

"Yes, Iruka-sensei!"

Whether or not they truly ant it, the children all straightened their backs and answered in unison.

Iruka gave a small, approving nod.

As a teacher, he knew education didn't happen overnight. These were first-years, still fresh from their hos, most with no experience in discipline. Konoha had changed a great deal in the years since the Nine-Tails' attack, and so Iruka knew better than to expect perfection from the start. Still, they had to be guided, step by step.

"Good. Let's start by getting to know each other. Since you'll all be studying together for six years, introductions are important. Tell us your na, what you like, and your dream for the future. We'll go in order. You first."

He pointed to the boy in the front row by the door.

"Yes, Iruka-sensei!"

The boy jumped to his feet, unafraid of being the first. Turning to face his classmates, he said loudly, "My na is Okazaki Tomoya! My favorite food is dango! My dream is to beco soone respected by everyone!"

"Very good. Next."

"My na is Matsuoka Masaki! I like all kinds of toys and ninja tools! My dream is to travel the world soday!"

And so it went, one introduction after another.

Most children had similar dreams: to beco great shinobi or even Hokage one day.

That was natural. Growing up in one of the Five Great Shinobi Villages, almost every child aspired to beco their village's leader. After all, the Hokage symbolized not only strength and authority but also the respect and admiration of the entire village.

Of course, the clan children—like Shikamaru, Shino, and Kiba—stood out a little, their words colored by their family traditions.

Then ca Sasuke's turn.

"My na is Uchiha Sasuke. I don't like anything in particular. My dream is to beco a shinobi as strong as my brother."

His voice was steady, his tone deliberately cool.

Not yet marked by the tragedy that would co later, Sasuke's aloofness here was more of a pose—a child's way of imitating the dignity and genius of his brother, Itachi.

"Ahhh!"

"Wow, Sasuke-kun!"

"Kyaa!"

The classroom erupted again, most of the girls practically swooning at his words and deanor.

It was the first big wave of excitent.

The second wave ca imdiately after—when Naruto introduced himself.

"Hello, everyone. My na is Namikaze Naruto. My favorite food is Ichiraku Ran. I don't particularly dislike anything. My dream for the future is to beco Hokage, just like my father!"

The words were familiar—the sa kind of declaration he made in the original tiline—but this Naruto's upbringing had been different. Raised under Iruka's watch and the Hokage's protection, he was less brash and mischievous, more polite and composed.

"Ohhh! That's so cool!"

"As expected of Master Naruto!"

"The son of the Fourth Hokage!"

"He's amazing!"

The room was abuzz again. Naruto and Sasuke—these two nas already shone brighter than the rest, becoming the twin centers of attention in their class.

Though the details of the story had shifted, fate seed determined to keep this rivalry alive.

Sasuke, more than anyone, already regarded Naruto as his rival.

From the mont he entered the Academy, Sasuke's aim had always been to be number one—because that was the position his brother had once held with ease. As the Uchiha clan's so-called genius, Sasuke could accept nothing less.

Then ca the final na that mattered most to this story.

"My na is Uzumaki nma. I don't have anything I particularly like. My dream is to be acknowledged by everyone."

His calm, gentle words didn't stir much attention from the class. Most of the children quickly looked away.

But Naruto turned at once, his eyes drawn to nma the mont he spoke.

For a second, an inexplicable feeling welled up inside Naruto.

As though nma was familiar to him. As though there was so deep, hidden bond connecting them.

But before the thought could settle, the sensation vanished—leaving Naruto dazed and uncertain.

nma, for his part, didn't look back at Naruto even once. He simply sat down, quiet as ever.

Naruto frowned slightly, watching him for another mont, then brushed it off with his usual carefree nature.

Maybe it was just his imagination.