Bunpuku the Monk's End

In the late autumn of Konoha Year 55, bleak winds swept up clouds of dust, adding another touch of chill to Sunagakure. A brief message from Sunagakure was secretly delivered to Shaye, who was busy with affairs on the Southwestern Peninsula. Its contents were short yet heavy: the old monk Bunpuku did not have much time left.

Shaye immediately set aside all his work and rushed alone, at top speed, to the lonely temple hidden within Sunagakure—a place he had often visited in his youth. As he pushed open the familiar creaking wooden door, the temple still carried its faint mingled scent of incense and old wood. But now, more potent still was the odor of life withering away, one not even medicinal herbs could conceal.

Monk Bunpuku lay quietly on a crude meditation couch, gaunt and frail, his breathing so weak that a gust of wind seemed capable of scattering him away. Yet when he saw Shaye enter, his deeply sunken eyes suddenly lit with a gentle, warm radiance, like a candle flame making one final flicker before burning out.

"You came... Shaye..." The old man's voice was hoarse enough to be nearly inaudible, yet it carried a trace of comfort.

Shaye strode to the bedside, dropped to one knee, and grasped the old monk's dry, icy hand. Feeling that faint vitality rapidly slipping away, Shaye did not hesitate. He immediately pulled a small yet intricately constructed device from his robes—the R&D Department's latest life-support device. Though it could not reverse life and death, it was enough to extend a life by several months.

"Master Bunpuku, don't speak. With this, I can help you... " Shaye's voice carried a hint of urgency.

But Bunpuku gently shook his head and used what little strength he had to push Shaye's hand