~The Crimson Twins~
[~As Close As Siblings Rewrite~]
~XxX~
Rain fell in sheets, mixing with the blood and sweat that soaked their bodies. Thunder cracked above, echoing the chaos within them both.
Naruto stood hunched, breath ragged, one eye swollen shut, the other burning with pain and defiance. Across from him, Sasuke, eyes ablaze with the Sharingan's fury, crackling with dark lightning, prepared his final strike.
"Why!?" Naruto's voice broke through the storm. "Why are you still doing this?!"
Sasuke didn't answer right away. His voice was low, trembling with barely contained rage.
"I have to cut everything away, Naruto. My ties... my bonds… They make me weak."
"Then you're a damn coward!" Naruto roared. "Running from pain doesn't make you strong! I—I still believe in you!"
Their feet moved in unison. No hesitation. Chidori clashed with Rasengan, sparks of pure chakra ripping through the air like thunderclaps.
In that instant—Naruto saw it. A gap in Sasuke's defense. A moment where his Rasengan could veer just slightly, strike not his chest, but his heart. End it. End everything.
But he didn't.
He couldn't.
His hand twitched. His eyes widened. He held back.
Just enough.
Sasuke's eyes caught it. Saw the hesitation. Saw the weakness he'd expected. The mercy.
"You idiot," he hissed, and his Chidori flared violently.
Time slowed. A burst of pain—cold, sharp, blinding—pierced through Naruto's chest. His body arched as the jutsu drove deep, past flesh, into the core of his being.
His Rasengan fizzled out like a dying star.
Sasuke's hand trembled, still buried in Naruto's chest, blood trickling down his arm.
Naruto's breath hitched. He looked up, smiling through the pain.
"I... still believe... in you... teme…"
And then, the light in his eyes faded.
Sasuke's expression twisted—anger, shock, and something else... something dangerously close to regret.
~XxX~
The Gremory Estate was quiet this evening—quiet in that special way only a mansion built of enchanted stone and ancient power could be. Crimson velvet curtains danced gently in the breeze coming through enchanted stained-glass windows. A fireplace crackled in the ornate parlor, the flames tinged ever-so-slightly blue with devil magic, casting soft glows across polished black marble floors. Every surface gleamed. Every corner whispered of wealth, power, and legacy.
On a plush settee of midnight blue and gold trim, Zeoticus Gremory lounged with a glass of rare underworld wine in hand, his tie loosened, his coat off. Across from him, Venelana reclined with the elegance of someone born to command, one hand resting gently on her stomach. Her expression was soft, eyes gleaming—not with power, but something far more beautiful: joy.
"A child," Zeoticus said, almost reverently. "We're really going to have another one."
Venelana smiled, sipping from a delicate crystal flute. "Mmm. Can you imagine what my father will say when he hears?"
"He'll want to turn the whole estate into a fortress," Zeoticus chuckled. "Or start drawing up marriage contracts before the child can even be born."
They laughed together—genuine, unguarded. The kind of laugh only lovers share when they're dreaming of the future.
"What about names?" she asked suddenly, leaning her head back. "We've got time, but…"
"A girl?" Zeoticus mused. "Lilith? Or maybe Seraphina? Something regal."
Venelana hummed. "Those are lovely. But I want something a little different. Memorable. Maybe... Rias."
Zeoticus blinked. "Rias?"
She smiled. "It came to me in a dream. Fiery red hair. Strong eyes. Stubborn. Beautiful."
He chuckled. "That does sound like something you'd give birth to."
She poked him with her foot. "And what if it's a boy?"
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, he'd need a name that could carry the Gremory legacy… perhaps Mordain, or Azarias?"
Venelana shook her head slowly, eyes distant now. "Actually... I had another name. From another dream, maybe? I'm not sure. It's silly."
Zeoticus raised a brow. "Try me."
She looked at him with a mysterious smile. "Naruto."
He blinked. "That's... unique. Not a devil name. Where did it come from?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. "I was in this place—bright and chaotic, not like the Underworld at all. And there was this boy... blonde hair, wild eyes, wearing orange of all things. He was laughing. But there was something... sad behind it. I think his name was Naruto."
Zeoticus watched her closely, curious.
"I woke up crying," she admitted quietly. "But happy. I felt like… like he had found peace."
A silence settled between them, not heavy, but reverent. As if the name itself had meaning beyond what they understood.
"Well," Zeoticus said finally, reaching for her hand, "if it's a boy, and you like that name... then let's consider it."
She smiled again, lacing her fingers with his.
"Naruto Gremory," she whispered, testing the sound.
And somewhere, far beyond the reach of mortal or devil senses, a soul began to stir.
~XxX~
There was no ground beneath him. No wind, no sky, no stars. Just the vast, weightless void—deep and endless.
Naruto floated there, arms limp, body slowly unraveling into formlessness. No heartbeat. No pain. But the memory of both clung to him like smoke.
He didn't know how long he'd been here. Seconds? Hours? Days? Time didn't mean much anymore.
All he knew was that he had failed.
Again.
"…stupid…" His voice echoed, distant and hollow, like it didn't belong to him.
"I had him…" he muttered, louder this time. "I had the opening. I could have stopped him. Could've ended it."
Silence answered him.
"But no," he spat, curling in on himself. "I hesitated. I couldn't do it. Couldn't kill him. Because I'm too damn soft. Because I believed in him."
He grit phantom teeth, fingers curling into fists he couldn't feel.
"And look where it got me!"
He screamed into the void, his voice shaking the emptiness. "I'm dead! And he's out there—alone, angry, wrong! And I'm not there to stop him anymore!"
Naruto's breath hitched—or the memory of breathing did. A sob tore from his throat, raw and broken.
"I promised Sakura-chan... I promised everyone…"
He fell silent again. Not because he had run out of words—but because he had run out of strength.
His will, the thing that had carried him through a thousand near-deaths, was flickering. Frayed.
But somewhere, in the dark, a flicker stirred.
Small. Barely there.
A warmth, like sunlight on his cheek.
"…what...?"
It pulsed again, faintly. Not chakra. Not magic. Something else.
His soul twitched.
Naruto opened his eyes—or maybe it was something deeper than that—and the darkness rippled, like water disturbed.
"I'm not done," he whispered.
Even if no one heard him, he said it anyway.
"I'm not done yet."
~XxX~
Beyond the flow of time, past the veils that separate life from death, story from silence, sat a being older than any god, any devil, or any name. It did not speak, for there was no need. Its thoughts shaped stars. Its sighs stirred dimensions. It watched the threads of fate like a weaver at his loom, fingers brushing gently against the tapestry of infinite lives.
It had no face. No form. Only presence—so vast it could cradle galaxies, so quiet it could slip unnoticed into a dying breath.
And in the stillness between seconds, it watched him.
Naruto.
The name glowed bright in the tapestry, frayed now, unraveling. A story ended… or so it seemed.
The being's essence pulsed—not with joy, nor sorrow, but something more painful. More human.
Affection.
It loved this boy. This loud, reckless, golden spark in the endless dark. It loved him as a playwright loves a tragic hero—deeply, fiercely, and with the cruel ache of knowing what must come next.
"I'm sorry," it whispered, though no one would hear.
Then, with a touch as soft as starlight and heavy as fate, it plucked Naruto's thread from its end and gently wove it into a new beginning.
Because every story deserves another act. Even if it must bleed to be beautiful.
~XxX~
Darkness.
It was not the comforting kind that came with slumber or solitude. This was the dark that swallowed stars. The kind that pressed against your ribs like a coffin lid.
Kurama felt it closing in.
His cage—the massive torii gate that had loomed for years—was gone. Dissolved. Eaten away by the same nothingness that had devoured the boy.
The boy.
Kurama snarled in the void, the sound a low rumble that shook nothing, echoed nowhere.
"Fool."
The word burned in his thoughts. Bitter. True.
The boy had hesitated. Again. Always mercy, always hope. Always soft where he should have been steel. And it had gotten them both killed.
Kurama had not mourned many things. He did not mourn villages. He did not mourn hosts. But this?
This was... irritating.
And maybe—just maybe—something worse.
There was potential in the brat. A fire. A will that reminded him, however unwillingly, of something ancient and forgotten. Of freedom. Of sunlight. Of laughter, damn it.
Now, nothing.
Or so he thought.
But then, something pulsed. Gentle. Alien. Kind.
A presence touched him—not like a summoner, not like a seal—but like the brush of wind through fur. Something old. Something watching.
Kurama tensed.
"You're not done either," it whispered—not with words, but with meaning.
The dark curled around his form, not to consume—but to carry.
He snarled again, but it was quieter this time. Not defiant. Just... tired.
"Don't chain me again," he growled, to no one and everyone.
And then, he was gone.
~XxX~
Time passed, and the estate was alive, not with politics and schemes, but with soft things—like laughter echoing through marbled halls and whispered dreams behind velvet-draped doors.
Venelana Gremory's pregnancy became a quiet beacon within the estate. The house seemed to breathe differently, humming with a low, content energy. Even the enchanted walls, tuned to the family's emotions, glowed a little warmer these days.
Her magic, usually as precise and poised as her every step, had grown wild and unpredictable. It sparked in strange patterns, lighting candles unbidden, sending books fluttering from shelves with no wind.
Zeoticus claimed it was the children's aura affecting her.
"Children," Venelana had repeated slowly the day they found out.
"Plural," the healer confirmed with a knowing smile. "Congratulations, Lady Gremory. You're carrying twins."
For the first time in her long life, Venelana was speechless.
Zeoticus had laughed aloud—an unguarded, shocked sort of laugh that didn't suit his noble bearing. He kissed her forehead, whispered something that made her blush, and then promptly tripped over a floating cushion enchanted by one of her magical hiccups.
The news rippled through the estate like wildfire. Servants whispered behind curtains. Distant relatives began sending enchanted toys and formal name suggestions sealed in golden scrolls. Most of them were quietly incinerated.
But the most unexpected reaction came from Sirzechs.
~XxX~
In the Lucifer household, deep within the quiet heart of the Underworld Citadel, a small room overflowed with glowing books, floating scrolls, and the occasional humming magical monitor.
Sirzechs sat in the center of it all, half-buried in research. His crimson hair was slightly mussed, a quill tucked behind one ear, and his usual cloak discarded in favor of a soft robe. He wasn't preparing for a council meeting or a battle of wits with one noble or another—no, this time, he was preparing for something far more personal.
He was going to be a big brother.
"…Twins," he muttered for the fourth time, still not quite believing it. "Twins."
From the doorway, Grayfia knocked lightly before stepping in with her usual grace. "You've been saying that for hours."
He looked up, eyes wide, glowing faintly with emotion. "Grayfia, did you know this could happen? That two children could share the same magical resonance before birth? I mean, of course it happens, but in our family?"
She smiled and approached, setting down a cup of tea beside him. "You've always wanted siblings. Aren't you happy?"
"I'm ecstatic," he said, standing suddenly. "Overwhelmed. A little terrified. I mean—I've been the only child for centuries. The heir. Now suddenly, I'm getting not one, but two little siblings? I don't even know how to—what if I'm too strict? Or not cool enough?"
Grayfia gave him a look. "You're the most beloved devil in the Underworld. I think you'll manage to impress a few infants."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, but... it's not just anyone. This is my family. My baby siblings. I want to be someone they can look up to, you know? Like a real protector. Someone who'll be there when they skin their knees, or cry during thunder storms. Someone who'll help them fly for the first time."
Grayfia watched him fondly. "You already are that person, Sirzechs."
He paused. Then asked, softly, "Do you think they'll be like me?"
She tilted her head. "Maybe a little. But I think they'll be very different. Bright. Fiery. Especially with that much Gremory magic."
"Twins," he repeated again, but this time with a kind of wonder in his voice. "I can't wait to meet them."
Grayfia stepped closer and looped her arm through his. "I suppose this means we'll be making a lot more visits to your parents' estate. I hope you're ready for baby clothes shopping."
Sirzechs laughed. "Wait—you're excited about this too?"
Her expression didn't change, but her cheeks colored faintly. "I like the idea of little ones."
He blinked. "Are we talking about my siblings or…?"
Grayfia sipped her tea innocently. "That depends."
Sirzechs just stared for a moment. Then grinned. "You're dangerous."
"And yet, you love me."
More than anything, he thought.
Outside, the candles in the corridor flared briefly—soft sparks of magic dancing in the air. As if the Underworld itself was celebrating the coming of something precious.
~XxX~
A/N:
Here's the prologue of Crimson Twins, the rewritten version of As Close as Siblings!
If you've read the original, you'll probably notice a few key changes. I removed Kami and replaced her with something a bit... higher up the cosmic food chain. I also scrapped the weird blame game I had going with Kurama—this time around, he gets a much better deal. And overall, I've tightened the story for more cohesion. There's now an actual (even if vague) reason Naruto is still called Naruto, despite being born a noble devil heir.
I've decided to keep the original story as-is, so anyone who prefers As Close as Siblings can still read it, and now you've got the option to follow this new direction too. Best of both worlds, I'd say.
I'm planning to write chapters for this rewrite fairly quickly—since I've got the original as a base, and I'm off work with nothing planned this weekend, expect at least a couple chapters soon. Hopefully enough for you to really get a feel for how this new version compares.
Let me know what you think—and whether you'd like me to keep going with this version, or even pick back up where I left off in the original if there's enough interest. Either way, I hope you enjoy!
(Pa-Tre-On/ragnartherad - for those feeling generous)