Encountering a Monk

Konoha Year 40. His body improved slowly but surely. He was still small and thin, but he could now walk steadily on his own and no longer needed Shaliu to carry him at all times. This newfound mobility opened the first door for him to explore this world.

Shaliu still took him to the maintenance division every day. Shaye could draw a map of this route in his mind with his eyes closed—from the low stone cave dwellings where their Household was located, along a main road worn uneven by wind and sand, then into a narrow side path flanked by towering rock walls, all the way to the noisy maintenance cavern filled with the smell of engine oil.

Day after day, the scenery never changed, aside from the endless yellow sand and gray, dusty 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 task and had to go to headquarters first. He left Shaye at the entrance of the maintenance division under the care of an old craftsman he knew, asking him to wait for a moment. The instant the old craftsman turned around to call out to the transport team, that small, quiet figure vanished.

Shaye had not meant to wander off. A hardy sea buckthorn plant growing from a crack in the rock wall had caught his eye, its tiny purple flowers blooming stubbornly. He chased after it on his short little legs, wanting to take a closer look, but the flower swayed in the wind and sand, always just beyond his reach.

Without realizing it, he followed that rare splash of purple into an unfamiliar, even more remote and narrow path. The path wound downward, while the rock walls on either side grew taller, blocking 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 himself, he found that he was standing somewhere completely unfamiliar.

This seemed to be a secluded corner on the edge of the village. Not far ahead stood a low, ancient temple, so weathered it nearly blended into the rock wall behind it. The temple looked crude, built from rough stones without any lavish decoration, bearing only the deep marks left by time and windblown sand. A worn cloth curtain hung over the entrance, swaying gently in the breeze.

An indescribable aura drew Shaye toward it. It was neither the smell of engine oil from the maintenance division nor the dusty scent of the streets, but something... tranquil, ancient, even carrying a faint hint of sorrow.

He hesitated for a moment, but curiosity ultimately overcame caution. He stepped forward and carefully approached the temple.

Only when he drew near did he realize that the ground around the temple was unusually clean, as though someone swept it often. He reached out with his small hand, lifted the worn cloth curtain, and peeked inside.

The interior was darker and more bare than it had appeared from outside. There was only a simple shrine, upon which sat a stone statue whose face could no longer be made out, its details worn away by time. Before it burned a tiny, dim oil lamp, its bean-sized flame steady and bright, the only source of light and warmth in the dark space.

Beside the oil lamp, a figure sat kneeling with his back to Shaye.

He was an extremely gaunt old monk, dressed in a faded robe patched several times over. His back carried an indescribable air of loneliness and serenity. He was not chanting sutras. He simply sat there quietly, as though he himself were part of the silence.

Seemingly hearing the faint sound behind him, the old monk stirred slightly, then slowly turned around.

His face was old, covered in deep wrinkles like the 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. At the entrance stood a bean-sized child with black hair and black eyes, his little face pale as he stared curiously with wide eyes. There was no fear in them, only pure inquisitiveness.

A trace of genuine, gentle surprise appeared on the old monk's face. It had been far too long since this place had seen a visitor, especially one so young.

"Amitabha." The old monk's voice was hoarse, yet as gentle as a spring breeze as it broke the silence. "Little benefactor, how did you come here?"

Shaye looked at the old monk. He could sense no malice from him, only a profound calm. Tilting his head, he answered honestly in a childish voice, "I... I got lost."

"Lost, hm..." The old monk smiled, and his wrinkles eased. "This place is indeed difficult to find. It seems you have an affinity with the Buddha."

He beckoned to Shaye. "The wind and sand are strong outside. Come in and sit for a while."

Shaye hesitated, but still stepped inside. The temple was simple, yet exceptionally clean, giving him a sense of peace. He sat on another old 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 replied, his eyes still curiously taking in the surroundings. His gaze eventually returned to Bunpuku, and he noticed that beneath his robes, Bunpuku's wrists and ankles seemed to be fitted with special, inconspicuous metal shackles connected to chains embedded in the ground, severely limiting his movement.

The discovery shook Shaye. He vaguely guessed something. A imprisoned monk... in the Hidden Sand Village...

Bunpuku noticed Shaye's gaze, but he did not hide it or seem embarrassed. He merely smiled calmly, that smile holding an air of detachment that saw through everything, along with a faint, nearly imperceptible pity.

"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 sense of familiarity toward the old monk before him. In his previous life, he had dealt mostly with cold machinery and logic, yet this pure, gentle elder of wisdom likewise inspired his respect.

"Have you always been here alone?" Shaye asked.

"Yes, for a long time." Bunpuku's voice was distant. "The only companions this old monk has are the blue lamp, the ancient Buddha, and... 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 come to such a remote place by yourself?"

"My father works in the puppet maintenance division," Shaye answered honestly. "I'm waiting for him to finish work."

"The puppet maintenance division..." Understanding flashed through Bunpuku's eyes. "So you are Attendant 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 in that dim, dilapidated temple. Bunpuku's tone remained gentle and patient. He asked Shaye what he liked, and Shaye spoke of gears and parts, of the wonders created when they came together. Bunpuku listened and nodded from time to time. He did not find a child's words boring; instead, a thoughtful light often flickered in his eyes.

Shaye also found it comfortable to speak with this old monk. He did not need to deliberately pretend to be a child who understood nothing. Bunpuku seemed able to understand the logic and concerns in his words that went beyond his age.

Before he knew it, a long time had passed.

Then Shaliu's anxious shout came from outside. "Shaye! Shaye!"

Only then did Shaye snap back to his senses, realizing that he had been gone too long. He hurriedly climbed off the 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 entrance, then looked back once more at the dim oil lamp and the withered yet peaceful old monk beneath its glow.

"Grandpa Bunpuku, can I... can I come see you again?" He did not know why he asked. He simply instinctively felt that, like the noisy maintenance division, this was a place that made him feel calm and interested.

Bunpuku seemed startled for a moment. Then the wrinkles on his face relaxed, revealing a truly warm smile.

"Of course, little Shaye. As long as you do not find this place boring, this old monk will welcome you anytime."

Shaye nodded forcefully, then lifted the cloth curtain and ran out, loudly answering his father's calls.

Bunpuku remained kneeling where he was, listening as the sounds of father and son reuniting outside gradually faded away. In the end, everything returned to silence. Only the flame of the oil lamp flickered softly.

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 fade away as though it had been an illusion.