The air in Ryuchi Cave was a living thing, thick and heavy, pressing against my skin like a damp shroud. The torchlight flickered, weak against the endless dark, casting shadows that writhed like serpents across the slick stone walls. I stood there, chest still tight from the rush of Sage Mode, the power coiling inside me like a beast I'd barely tamed. My breath echoed in the silence, and then *they* moved—Ichikishimahime, Tagorihime, Tagitsuhime—the White Snake Princesses, their eyes glinting like obsidian in the gloom.
I took a step back, instinct screaming, but they were faster, their silk robes whispering as they closed in. Ichikishimahime's voice slid into the air, soft and sharp, a blade wrapped in velvet. "Not so fast, little sage. You don't leave until we've had our say."
I froze, my pulse kicking up. "I've already got Garaga's contract. We're done here, right?"
Tagorihime laughed, a sound like breaking glass, her fingers brushing my shoulder, light but deliberate. "Done? Oh, child, you've only just begun. You think this was a failed awakening? A stumble in the dark?"
Tagitsuhime circled me, her touch grazing my arm, cool and insistent. "You've done more than awaken, Menma Uchiha. You've *integrated* our Senjutsu into your body. Fused it with your soul. Do you even grasp what that means?"
I blinked, the words hitting like stones in still water. "Integrated? I just… survived. I didn't—"
Ichikishimahime's smile was a crescent moon, sharp and dangerous, her hand resting on my chest, right over my racing heart. "Survived? No, no. This isn't survival. This is triumph. Even Orochimaru, who clawed his way to this cave on his own, never managed this. He took our power, yes, but he didn't make it his own. Not like you."
My throat tightened, their closeness suffocating, their words sinking deep. "No one's done this? In how long?"
Tagorihime leaned in, her breath warm against my ear, her voice a purr. "Over a hundred years, little sage. A century of failures, and then you—barely a child—walk in and rewrite the rules."
I swallowed, mind spinning. I hadn't known. I'd felt the sage energy tear through me, reshape me, but I thought that was the point—endure it, claim it. Not… this. "I didn't mean to. I just—"
Tagitsuhime's fingers trailed down my back, her touch a shiver I couldn't shake. "Intent doesn't matter. Results do. And the result is you, standing here, a vessel for *our* power. We can't let that walk away unclaimed."
"Unclaimed?" My voice cracked, a mix of nerves and defiance. "I'm not some prize."
Ichikishimahime's eyes flashed, her grip tightening on my chest. "No, you're a rarity. And we want to bind ourselves to you. Multiple contracts. Not just Garaga—us. All of us."
Tagorihime's hand slid into my hair, tugging gently, her voice a coaxing whisper. "Imagine it, Menma. Three summons of our caliber. Power beyond your dreams. You'd be unstoppable."
Tagitsuhime pressed closer, her lips hovering near my jaw, her words a soft hiss. "Let us see the world through you. Let us taste the battles you'll fight. We've been caged here too long."
My face burned, their hands everywhere—shoulders, arms, hair—too much, too close. I was six, damn it, or at least my body was, but my mind was older, sharper, and it didn't know how to handle this. "I—I need time," I stammered, stepping back, but they followed, relentless.
Jiraiya's voice cut through, rough and edged with irritation. "Alright, ladies, back off. He's not your plaything. Kid's got enough to deal with without you piling on."
Ichikishimahime barely spared him a glance, her tone icy. "Toad Sage, you had your chance here and walked away with nothing. He's surpassed you. Step aside."
Jiraiya bristled, his fists clenching, but I raised a hand, voice steadying. "I'll think about it. But I've got responsibilities—people waiting. I can't decide this now."
Tagorihime's fingers tightened in my hair, her smile teasing. "Responsibilities? What could be more pressing than us?"
Tagitsuhime's hand slid to my wrist, her grip firm. "Stay a little longer. Let us convince you."
Ichikishimahime's lips brushed my ear, her whisper a promise. "We could show you things no mortal has seen."
My pulse hammered, heat flooding my cheeks, their scents—jasmine, venom, something ancient—clouding my head. I opened my mouth to protest, but Jiraiya's shout drowned me out. "Gamabunta, now!"
Smoke erupted, thick and choking, and the cave vanished mid-breath, the princesses' hands slipping away, their laughter fading into echoes. The world lurched, and I hit the ground hard, grass cool beneath me, the outskirts of the Leaf Village stretching out under a silver moon. I gasped, heart pounding, the night air a jolt to my senses.
Jiraiya stood beside me, arms crossed, his face a storm of relief and something sharper—betrayal, maybe, or envy. He glared at me, voice low. "You little punk. Hoarding all the goods to yourself. What happened to teamwork?"
I scrambled to my feet, still reeling. "I didn't hoard anything! They just—they wouldn't let go!"
He snorted, looking away, his jaw tight. "Yeah, well, I'm supposed to be the one charming the ladies, not you. You're stealing my thunder, kid."
I laughed, short and shaky, the tension unraveling. "You're jealous of *that*? They were terrifying."
He shot me a grin, but it was brittle, his eyes shadowed. "Terrifying, huh? Looked pretty cozy from where I was standing."
I rubbed my neck, the memory of their hands lingering like a brand. "When'd you summon Gamabunta, anyway? That was fast."
Jiraiya waved a hand, casual but smug. "Sent a messenger bird before we left. Told him to pull us out in an hour if he didn't hear back. Figured we might need a quick exit."
I smirked, impressed despite myself. "Smart."
A deep, rumbling voice rolled over us, heavy with mockery. "Smart? Only reason you're not snake chow right now is me, you ungrateful brats."
I turned, and there was Gamabunta, the massive toad looming against the night sky, pipe clenched in his teeth, smoke curling from his nostrils. His eyes narrowed, pinning me. "So, the kid's summoning snakes now, huh? Figures. Always knew you were a slimy one, Menma."
I crossed my arms, chin lifting, a grin tugging at my lips. "Snakes are stronger than toads, anyway."
Gamabunta's laugh shook the earth, a bellow that sent birds scattering from the trees. "Stronger? You've got some nerve, brat! Toads are the kings of the summon world. Snakes? Just worms with delusions of grandeur."
Jiraiya leaned against a tree, smirking. "Don't mind him, Menma. He's just mad because snakes creep him out."
The toad puffed out a cloud of smoke, his voice a growl. "Creep me out? Please. They're sneaky little bastards, that's all. You watch that Garaga, kid. He'll bite you the second you turn your back."
I shrugged, my grin widening. "Already tried. I handled it."
Gamabunta's eye twitched, a flicker of something—respect, maybe—buried under his scowl. "Handled it, huh? You're either dumber than you look or braver than I thought. Probably both."
Jiraiya clapped me on the shoulder, his laugh rough but warm. "That's my student. Now, let's get you home before your mother skins us both."
I glanced up, the moon high and unforgiving, and my stomach sank. Nearly midnight. Mikoto was going to be livid. "Yeah. Let's move."
Gamabunta huffed, his massive form shifting. "Don't drag me into your mess again, Jiraiya. I've got better things to do than play taxi."
Jiraiya waved him off, already heading toward the village. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, chief."
The toad vanished in a burst of smoke, and we trudged through the grass, the night wrapping around us like a cloak. My mind churned, replaying the cave—the princesses' hands, their offers, the weight of what I'd done. Integrated Senjutsu. A century's worth of rarity. It was a crown I hadn't asked for, but it sat heavy all the same.
As the Leaf Village gates loomed ahead, Jiraiya stopped, his voice quiet, serious. "You did good today, kid. Better than good. But that power—it's a blade with no handle. Don't cut yourself on it."
I nodded, his words settling deep. "I won't. I'll figure it out."
He ruffled my hair, a rare gentleness breaking through his usual bravado. "Get home. Rest. You've earned it."
I slipped past the gates, the village silent, the streets bathed in shadow. My steps quickened as I neared the Uchiha compound, its walls rising like a fortress against the night. Mikoto's face flashed in my mind—her worry, her anger, the lecture waiting for me. I could hear her now: *"Midnight, Menma? Do you know how worried I was?"*
I swallowed, bracing myself. The massacre was a ghost I carried every day, but tonight, it was Mikoto's wrath that loomed larger. A mother's fury was its own kind of danger, and I'd rather face a hundred snake princesses than her disappointment. But I'd face it. I had to.
The compound gate creaked as I pushed it open, the sound loud in the stillness. Nearly midnight, and I was late—too late. Mikoto was going to be extremely upset. I stepped inside, heart pounding, ready for the storm.