What a load of nonsense—dragging Buddha into this? Chiyo could see right through Bunpuku: this old monk had been itching to try out the Heavenly Dance Treasure Wheel for years. Now, everything had fallen into place so perfectly it was almost suspicious. She'd only wanted an excuse to send the old monk into retreat for a few days, but somehow, fate—or just luck—had lined everything up for her.
Truth was, Master Bunpuku had no real vices or hobbies, except for his obsession with sealing arts. His mastery of the Manji Seal was already near perfection, with little left to improve. This was the perfect opportunity for him to finally operate the Heavenly Dance Treasure Wheel, to glimpse the pinnacle of Master Sōjun's ancient legacy.
Which suited Chiyo just fine. Without getting the old monk out of the way, how was she supposed to "borrow" the young novice?
Chiyo pressed her palms together and bowed deeply. "Who would have thought such a wondrous art existed in this world? Truly, there is fate at work. Look—the Sand Temple has passed down through exactly twelve generations to you, and exactly twelve relics remain. One less generation, one less relic, and it wouldn't work. Clearly, Buddha intended for you to use the Heavenly Dance Treasure Wheel to guide the souls of Senju Hashirama and Senju Tobirama to peace, and in doing so, gain immeasurable merit."
"Amitabha, Elder Chiyo speaks true," Bunpuku replied, delighted.
"So, what do you need me to do, Master Bunpuku?" Chiyo asked. As a fellow sealing master, she could tell from the sheer scale of the formation's core that this ritual would be massive—Bunpuku couldn't possibly do it alone.
"I do need some help," Bunpuku nodded. "First, I'll need a tranquil space—large and quiet. Then, prepare forty-nine days' worth of fresh water and simple rations. Oh, and it's best if no one comes near during that time…"
The more Chiyo listened, the deeper her frown grew.
Forty-nine days? Well, that was plenty of time.
But where in Sunagakure could she find such a place? Real estate was booming—property prices here were second only to those on the Yuexi Peninsula. There wasn't a single large, vacant space left for a ritual like this.
Only the old Abyss prison would do. But that place was packed with criminals now…
Wait—why not just kick the prisoners out?
"Master Bunpuku, leave it to me. Three days from now, I guarantee you'll have everything you need for the ritual!"
While Chiyo and Bunpuku were deep in the crypt discussing the Heavenly Dance Treasure Wheel, Sasori and Hōichi were in the meditation room, enjoying hot pot.
"Same rules as always—mandarin duck pot. This side's mutton broth is mine, that side's mushroom broth is yours. One pot, two flavors, but don't cross the line. Deal?" Sasori said, dropping thick slices of mutton into his half of the pot. The rich aroma of meat filled the meditation room. Sasori quickly snatched up a piece of just-cooked lamb, dipped it in sauce, and popped it into his mouth—instantly hissing from the heat.
Hōichi's mushrooms cooked slower, so he could only sit and watch, stomach rumbling.
"Hey, hey, hey! You're eating meat in front of a monk—and enjoying it! Is that really appropriate?" Hōichi protested.
Sasori just grinned. "I'm eating my food—how does that bother you? Besides, you haven't even taken vows yet. Technically, you're not a monk. Want a bite?"
"No way! I haven't touched meat or fish in over three years. Master says with one more opportunity, I'll be ready for ordination," Hōichi said, shaking his head and waving his hands.
Truth was, Sasori and Hōichi were close in age and had known each other for years. When Sasori was a child, Master Bunpuku had protected him, and he'd often visited the Sand Temple. After the Rock-Sand War, a new novice arrived, and the two boys quickly became friends.
Sasori's eyes lit up. "Opportunity, huh? That's a good word! So, how did Master Bunpuku know your opportunity had arrived?"
Hōichi picked up a mushroom, blowing on it. "My opportunity? What do you mean—you brought it to me?"
Sasori slapped his thigh. "Exactly!"
"Oh, come on," Hōichi said, stuffing the mushroom into his mouth.
"I'm serious," Sasori insisted.
Seeing Sasori's earnest face, Hōichi's curiosity was piqued. "All right, then—what opportunity?"
Sasori leaned in, a sly smile on his lips. "What could be a greater merit than ending a war? Forget ordination—you could go straight to bodhisattva. Maybe even Buddha!"
"Ending a war? You mean the one with Konoha?" Hōichi asked, surprised.
"Exactly."
"Tell me more."
"Here's the deal: Takigakure's joined the war…" Sasori explained the situation on the front lines. "Take care of the Seven-Tails, and you take care of Takigakure. Take care of Takigakure, and you break Konoha. End the war, and think how many lives you'll save. The merit you'd earn—saving one life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda. You could cultivate straight into heaven."
Hōichi scratched his head. "That makes sense, but I'm afraid Master won't let me go. He's always opposed to getting involved in war…"
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. If you don't sweep, the dust doesn't clear itself. If you never enter the world, you'll never see through it. Using war to end war—that's true merit."
"Hmm, you might be right. I'll talk to Master—"
Hōichi started to stand, but Sasori grabbed his sleeve. Before he could say more, Master Bunpuku and Elder Chiyo strode into the meditation room.
"Sasori, you're up to your tricks again! Eating meat in the meditation room—sinful, sinful!" Bunpuku pressed his palms together and began chanting rebirth mantras.
"Master, it's my fault, but I can prove Hōichi only ate mushrooms—not a drop of grease touched his lips," Sasori said quickly.
Bunpuku didn't scold them further. Instead, he turned to Hōichi. "I have a ritual to perform and must leave for a time. I'm leaving the temple in your and your junior brother's care. Cultivate well."
With that, he hurried out with Chiyo.
Watching Bunpuku's retreating figure, Hōichi spread his hands helplessly at Sasori. "Looks like I have to stay and watch the temple. I can't help you."
Sasori just smiled. "You blockhead—Master Bunpuku was dropping hints. Didn't you catch it?"
"Huh?" Hōichi looked completely lost.
Sasori leaned in. "Didn't he just say 'cultivate well'?"
"Yeah, so?" Hōichi replied.
"In this little temple, just you and your junior brother—two bald heads staring at each other, banging the big wooden fish, then the little one. What's there to cultivate? True cultivation means reading ten thousand books, traveling ten thousand miles—broadening your mind and vision. That's real progress."
Hōichi's eyes widened. "So you're saying I should leave the Sand Temple and seek my own path?"
"Exactly," Sasori said, clapping him on the shoulder.
"But what about the temple?" Hōichi asked, uncertain.
"Don't you have a junior brother?" Sasori replied.
…
As Sasori's chakra-powered car roared off, trailing a cloud of dust, Hōni watched from the temple steps, strumming his biwa and shaking his head. "Sigh, big brother's gotten even better at playing dumb. Found himself the perfect excuse to go out and have fun. Impressive—truly impressive."
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