In Konoha Year 40, his physical improvement had been slow but tangible. He was still small and thin, but he could now walk steadily on his own and no longer needed Shaliu to carry him everywhere. This newfound mobility had opened the first door for him to explore this world.
Shaliu still took him to the Maintenance Unit every day. Shaye could draw a map of this route in his mind with his eyes closed—from the low stone-cave homes where they lived, along a main road worn uneven by wind and sand, then into a narrow side path flanked by towering rock walls. At the end lay the noisy repair cavern, filled with the smell of engine oil.
Day after day, the scenery never changed, aside from the yellow sand filling the sky and the dusty gray buildings.
Yet a child's nature—or rather, the curiosity toward the unknown buried deep within Shaye's thirty-year-old soul—could not be completely restrained.
That day, Shaliu received an urgent assignment and needed to visit headquarters first, so he asked an old craftsman he knew at the entrance to the Maintenance Unit to watch Shaye for a moment. The instant the old craftsman turned to call out to the transport team, that small, quiet figure vanished.
Shaye had not meant to wander off. His attention had simply been caught by a sea-buckthorn plant stubbornly growing from a crack in the rock wall, its tiny purple flowers blooming brightly. He waddled after it on his short little legs, wanting a closer look, but the flower swayed in the wind and sand, always just beyond his reach.
Before he realized it, he had followed that rare patch of purple into a narrower, more secluded path he had never taken before. The path wound downward, while the rock walls on both sides grew taller and blocked out most of the wind, sand, and noise. The surroundings suddenly became exceptionally quiet, leaving only the faint sounds of his footsteps and breathing.
By the time he finally gave up on the sea-buckthorn plant and came back to his senses, he found himself somewhere completely unfamiliar.
This seemed to be a remote corner at the edge of the village, unusually secluded. Not far ahead stood a low, ancient temple that nearly blended into the rock wall behind it. It looked crude, built from rough stones without any ornate decoration, bearing only the deep marks left by time and windblown sand. A tattered cloth curtain hung at its entrance, swaying softly in the breeze.
An indescribable atmosphere drew Shaye in. It was neither the scent of engine oil from the Maintenance Unit nor the dusty smell of the streets, but something... tranquil, ancient, and even faintly desolate.
He hesitated for a moment, but curiosity ultimately overcame caution. He stepped forward and carefully approached the temple.
Only when he came closer did he notice how unusually clean the ground around the temple was, as though someone swept it regularly. He reached out with his small hand, lifted the worn cloth curtain, and poked his head inside.
The interior was even dimmer and barer than it appeared from outside. There was only a simple Buddhist altar, upon which sat a stone statue whose features had been worn away by time. Before the altar burned a small, dim oil lamp. Its bean-sized flame burned steadily, the only source of light and warmth in the dark space.
Beside the oil lamp, a figure sat kneeling on a prayer cushion with his back to Shaye.
He was an extremely thin old monk, dressed in a faded robe patched in several places. His back carried an indescribable loneliness and serenity. He was not chanting sutras. He merely sat there quietly, as though he himself were part of the silence.
Perhaps hearing the faint movement behind him, the old monk stirred slightly, then slowly turned around.
His face was old and covered in deep wrinkles, like cracks in a dried riverbed. Yet his eyes were exceptionally clear and peaceful, holding a kindly light that seemed to see through all worldly matters. He saw a bean-sized child standing at the doorway, with black hair, black eyes, and a pale little face. The child stared at him curiously with wide eyes, showing no fear, only pure interest.
A trace of genuine, gentle surprise appeared on the old monk's face. It had been far too long since this place had received visitors, especially one so young.
"Amitabha." The old monk's voice was hoarse, yet as gentle as a spring breeze, breaking the silence. "Little benefactor, how did you come here?"
Shaye looked at the old monk and sensed no malice from him, only a profound calm. Tilting his head, he answered honestly in a voice that still carried a childish lilt, "I... I got lost."
"Lost, were you..." The old monk smiled, his wrinkles easing. "This place is indeed difficult to find. It seems you are fated with the Buddha."
He beckoned to Shaye. "The wind and sand are fierce outside. Come in and sit for a while."
Shaye hesitated briefly, but still stepped inside. The temple was very simple, yet exceptionally clean, and it gave him a sense of peace. He sat on another old prayer cushion beside the old monk, his small body sinking into it.
"This old monk is called Bunpuku." The old monk introduced himself gently, then looked at Shaye. "And you, little benefactor?"
"Shaye," Shaye answered, his eyes still curiously surveying the surroundings. His gaze eventually returned to Bunpuku, and he noticed that beneath the monk's robes, his wrists and ankles seemed to bear specially made, inconspicuous metal shackles connected to chains embedded in the ground. His range of movement was extremely limited.
The discovery jolted Shaye. He vaguely understood something. A monk imprisoned... in Sunagakure...
Bunpuku noticed Shaye's gaze, but he neither hid it nor appeared embarrassed. He merely smiled calmly, with an indifference that seemed to see through everything and a faint, almost imperceptible sorrow.
"A strange place, isn't it?" Bunpuku asked softly, as though he were speaking of something unrelated to himself.
Shaye nodded. He was not afraid. Instead, he felt an inexplicable closeness to the old monk before him. In his previous life, he had mostly dealt with cold machinery and logic, but this pure, gentle elder of wisdom also inspired his respect.
"Have you always been here alone?" Shaye asked.
"Yes, for a long time." Bunpuku's voice was distant. "The only things accompanying this old monk are the ancient Buddha and the ever-burning lamp, as well as... an old friend who is not particularly well-behaved."
"An old friend?" Shaye blinked.
Bunpuku merely smiled without answering directly, instead asking, "Little Shaye, where is your family? How did you run all the way to such a remote place by yourself?"
"My father works in the Puppet Repair Unit," Shaye answered honestly. "I'm waiting for him to get off work."
"The Puppet Repair Unit..." Understanding flashed through Bunpuku's eyes. "So you are Sandgrain Layman's child. It seems you have dealt with those cold creations since you were young."
One old and one young, they chatted on and off within the dim, dilapidated temple. Bunpuku's tone remained gentle and patient. He asked what Shaye liked, and Shaye spoke of gears and components, of the wonders that arose when they were assembled together. Bunpuku listened and nodded from time to time. He did not find the child's words dull. Instead, a thoughtful glimmer often appeared in his eyes.
Shaye also found it comfortable talking to the old monk. He did not need to deliberately pretend to be a child who understood nothing. The other man seemed able to understand the logic and concerns in his words that exceeded his age.
Before he knew it, a long time had passed.
Then Shaliu's anxious voice came from outside. "Shaye! Shaye!"
Only then did Shaye snap awake and realize that he had been gone for too long. He hurriedly climbed off the prayer cushion. "Grandpa Bunpuku, my father has come looking for me. I have to go."
Bunpuku nodded kindly. "Go quickly. Do not make your father worry."
Shaye ran to the doorway, then looked back once more at the dim yellow oil lamp and the withered yet peaceful old monk beneath it.
"Grandpa Bunpuku, can I... can I come see you again?" He did not know why he asked. He only instinctively felt that, like the noisy Maintenance Unit, this was a place that made him feel calm and interested.
Bunpuku seemed to freeze for a moment. Then the wrinkles on his face relaxed, revealing a truly warm smile.
"Of course, little Shaye. So long as you do not find this place boring, this old monk will welcome you anytime."
Shaye nodded vigorously, then lifted the cloth curtain and ran outside, loudly answering his father's calls.
Bunpuku remained kneeling where he was, listening as the sounds of father and son reuniting outside gradually faded into the distance. In the end, everything returned to silence. Only the oil lamp's flame flickered softly once.
He slowly closed his eyes, pressed his palms together, and quietly recited a Buddhist invocation.
Deep within the silent temple, an exceedingly faint, wild snort seemed to sound out, only to swiftly disappear as though it had been an illusion.
(End of Chapter)
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