The first thing that struck me about the Fire Temple when we finally broke away from Taki's sprawling forests and saw it looming up ahead in the distance, was the sheer size of it.
Situated at the edge of the great forests of Fire Country, the sprawling complex occupied a low rise overlooking a broad grassy plain, a curving mountain chain at its back and flanks. Unlike Konoha's dense urban sprawl or Takigakure's layered construction around its lake and waterfall, the temple seemed almost deliberately isolated. Buildings of dark wood and stone spread across several acres, connected by covered walkways and winding paths lined with carefully maintained gardens. Massive bronze bells hung from timber frames large enough they could've doubled as siege weaponry. Prayer flags fluttered lazily in the wind. Somewhere in the distance, monks were chanting.
The entire complex was situated at the edge of one of Fire Country's older roads, a broad, well-beaten route that cut through the surrounding countryside before eventually disappearing into the forests beyond. Judging by the ruts carved into the packed earth and the occasional weathered milestone beside the road, people had been travelling this route for generations.
As we drew closer to the temple, traffic steadily increased.
Farmers worked the outer fields surrounding the complex, several stopping briefly to watch our group pass before returning to their labour. Ox-drawn carts creaked their way along the road carrying vegetables, lumber and supplies destined for the temple kitchens. Travelling merchants passed in the opposite direction, while monks and priests moved between the temple and nearby settlements with the easy familiarity of people walking routes they'd followed a thousand times before.
None of them seemed particularly concerned by the presence of armed shinobi.
Which, honestly, was refreshing.
Somewhere further inside the complex, a massive bronze bell rang, the sound rolling across the grounds like distant thunder. I felt it more than heard it.
Beside me, Fū practically vibrated with excitement.
"Woah."
That was the fifth time she'd said that in the past minute. Behind us, Fūjin and Raijin had arrived at a somewhat different conclusion.
"Big."
"Very big."
"Think they have food?"
"Big places usually have food."
The pair exchanged a look of complete understanding.
"Good."
It said something about our collective journey that neither Tsubaki nor I even bothered responding anymore. The brothers had operated on a fairly straightforward worldview ever since I'd met them in prison. Large settlements contained food. Food was good. Therefore large settlements were also good.
It was difficult to argue with the logic.
Mostly because I wasn't entirely sure there was enough logic present to argue with.
Ignoring the Brothers' more mundane concerns, Fū immediately darted ahead before Tiger could object, stopping to stare at one of the massive bronze bells hanging from a timber frame.
"Do you think they'd let me ring it?"
"No." I said flatly as we moved past her, placing one clawed hand on her mint-green hair and steering her along, though it did nothing to stop her waterfall of questions.
"What if I asked politely?"
"Still no."
"What if I asked politely twice?"
"I don't think haggling will convince monks of all people."
Fū looked unconvinced.
"What if I told them it was for village diplomacy?"
"That's not what diplomacy is."
"It's how I do diplomacy."
Tsubaki smiled faintly as she watched the girl hurry from one new discovery to the next. Even the ANBU accompanying us seemed slightly less tense than usual, though that might've simply been because they hadn't had to draw a weapon in over forty-eight hours.
Tiger, meanwhile, somehow looked even more uncomfortable than normal and it took me a few moments to figure out why. The first clue had been how many people seemed to recognize him.
Not ANBU recognition either. Nobody was tensing up. Nobody was giving him the wary look civilians tended to reserve for heavily armed government operatives.
These people knew him.
Or at the very least thought they did.
Tiger handled this with all the grace of a cat being introduced to a bathtub.
A monk carrying two buckets suspended from a shoulder pole passed us and greeted him and the ANBU captain froze ever so slightly, before offering an awkward nod. He quickly continued walking as though desperately hoping the interaction would end before anybody attempted small talk.
I gradually found myself drifting towards the tense ANBU Captain as we followed the winding stone path drawing steadily closer towards the sprawling Temple complex. Not because I particularly enjoyed the man's company, but because he'd been acting increasingly strange ever since we'd come within sight of the Fire Temple and that immediately made him more interesting.
"You know this place."
Tiger didn't even glance in my direction.
"It's the oldest and largest temple in all of Fire Country, it predates Konoha by centuries. Everyone knows this place."
"You know what I mean."
The ANBU captain's silence suggested he did indeed know exactly what I meant and was choosing not to answer out of spite.
Encouraging.
A few paces behind us, Fū was still bouncing between every vaguely interesting thing she spotted like an over-caffeinated squirrel. At the moment she appeared to be trying to determine whether one of the decorative stone lanterns was hollow. By having Fujin lift the entire structure, foundation and all, straight out of the ground.
"So what's the connection?" I asked, heroically choosing to ignore the situation for now (Tsubaki had it handled… I hope).
"There is no connection."
"Uh huh."
"I have never met these people in my life."
As if the universe itself set out to prove him wrong, just then another monk passed us, this one considerably older than the others. His pace slowed slightly as he drew level with Tiger, his eyes lingering on the ANBU captain's mask for a second before his expression visibly brightened.
"Good to see you again." He said in a warm tone, offering a small bow before continuing on at a leisurely pace, completely unaware of the hole he had just detonated in the ANBU's defences.
Tiger froze for the briefest of moments, a tiny hitch in his stride that would've escaped most people entirely. Unfortunately for him, I'd spent the better part of two weeks closely watching the man look annoyed at me.
My eyes narrowed.
"Oh, you've definitely got history here."
"I do not."
That answer came a little too quickly, carrying all the conviction of a man insisting he wasn't hungry while actively chewing food.
Apparently, even Fū noticed, which was saying something considering she had been preoccupied trying to count all the koi fish the Temple kept in their various ponds spread across their outer grounds (the final count was around 55… well 54 now since Raijin had stuffed one in his mouth before Tsubaki could stop him) because she immediately appeared beside us.
"You totally do."
"I do not."
"That's exactly what somebody with history here would say."
Tiger's eye twitched ever so slightly, a tiny crack in the ANBU captain's composure, barely even noticeable.
Still counted.
"There. That. You twitched." I grinned as I pointed at him.
"I did not."
"You twitched twice."
"I did not."
"You just did it again."
Tiger made the sort of noise normally associated with people developing migraines.
I decided to help.
"Let me guess. You trained here."
"No."
"A relative?"
"No."
"You were a monk."
"No."
"A priest?"
"No."
"Acolyte?"
"No."
"Temple janitor?"
Tiger didn't even dignify that one with a response.
"You got kicked out."
"No."
"...You got kicked out, didn't you?"
Tiger stopped walking and slowly turned his masked face toward me.
I couldn't see his expression beneath the porcelain, but I could feel the weight of several years of accumulated professional frustration settling squarely onto my shoulders.
"Why," he asked with remarkable restraint, "would that be your conclusion?"
"Professional intuition."
"You are not a professional."
"Fair. Personal intuition, then."
For a second I genuinely thought he might strangle me, before he sharply turned on his heel and very deliberately resumed walking.
Notably, he still hadn't denied it.
"Oh my god, you did get kicked out."
"I did not."
"That wasn't a denial."
"It literally was."
"But it lacked conviction."
Tiger increased his pace.
Naturally, I matched it.
Beside us, Fū gasped dramatically.
"You were secretly a monk!"
"I was not."
"A runaway monk!"
"No."
"Yes! You had to run away because of your forbidden love!"
Tiger actually almost missed a step at that (though to be fair, I did too as I shot the teenaged girl an incredulous look, briefly wondering what they let children read these days) as Fū pointed triumphantly.
"Aha!"
"There was no aha."
"There was definitely an aha," even Tsubaki chimed in with a smile.
The betrayed look Tiger sent her would've been significantly more effective if he wasn't wearing a mask.
Unfortunately for him, I'd already smelled blood in the water. Whatever connection he had to the Fire Temple, it clearly existed, and I was absolutely going to find out just what it was.
… Eventually.
Preferably before he figured out how to make my death look like an accident.
The main temple complex continued to grow larger as we followed the road uphill, details gradually emerging from the sprawling mass of rooftops and stone walls. Dark timber buildings rose behind high walls, their tiled roofs curving elegantly toward the sky. Age showed everywhere, though not in the neglected sense. Everything was maintained meticulously, but nothing felt new. The wood had weathered. The stone had worn smooth beneath countless feet. Moss clung to corners and foundations.
The place felt more than just lived in, it felt ancient, older even than the forgotten civilization on Mount Shumisen had been. The sort of location that existed before nations started drawing borders and would probably still be standing long after most of them disappeared.
Several monks were already waiting for us at the main gate when we finally climbed to the top of the large staircase leading up to the temple grounds, though simply calling it a gate felt slightly dishonest.
The structure towered over us, built from massive dark timbers reinforced with iron bands thick enough to survive a siege. Age had blackened much of the wood, while countless seasons of wind and rain had smoothed away any sharp edges, leaving behind something that felt less constructed and more grown from the very land itself.
Looming on either side stood a pair of enormous stone statues depicting dangerous looking Tengu, the mythological teachers of ninjutsu to early human hermits.
Their long noses and stern expressions had been carved with remarkable detail, weather and age doing little to diminish the sense that they were judging everyone who passed beneath the gate. At their feet stood smaller carvings of yamabushi ascetics carrying staffs and scrolls, the stone polished smooth in places by generations of passing hands.
Fū, meanwhile, had immediately become distracted by the tengu statues that towered above us.
"Do you think they come alive at night?" she whispered from the corner of her mouth.
"No."
"You answered that awfully quickly."
"Because if giant stone tengu came alive every night, somebody would've mentioned it by now."
Fū considered that.
"Or maybe everyone who found out got eaten."
I opened my mouth, thought it through for a second, then closed it again.
Honestly, I'd spent enough time around ninja villages to admit that wasn't the dumbest theory I'd ever heard. Tengu did have mystical significance in the origins of ninjutsu after all, and the monks here did have a unique type of energy that they called the Gift of the Hermit Group that was capable of calling upon chakra constructs resembling mythical spirits straight out of Buddhism…
Best not to tempt fate.
Between the two (possibly sentient) statues, the characters for 'Fire Temple' were painted above a set of thick wooden doors inlaid with golden decorations, large and strong enough it would (literally) take an S-Rank ninja to breach with sheer force. The symbols formed a barrier around the temple grounds, embedded in the very walls themselves, placed there by Asuma's former comrade Chiruku. Normally you needed the specially attuned chakra the monks cultivated here to unlock the seal and open the gate, but now the wooden doors were swung wide already, a handful of monks patiently waiting on its doorstep.
News had clearly travelled ahead of us, Shibuki having kept true to his word. The monks greeted us politely enough.
Not warmly, though.
More than a few eyes lingered on the dark stripes visible on my muscled arms and above my collar. Nobody openly stared, but I caught several monks looking before quickly averting their gaze, while others watched me with the sort of measured caution usually reserved for unfamiliar weapons or wounded animals.
Not that I was particularly bothered by the looks. Considering their history with Sora's own physical mutations, their caution was understandable. Besides, I'd gotten fairly used to people staring by now. The pointed ears, elongated canines and dark markings spreading across parts of my body weren't exactly subtle, especially once someone got a proper look at me. Most people either tried very hard not to notice or became entirely too interested.
The monks landed somewhere in the middle.
They were polite, respectful, even. But there was a deliberate distance there too.
One of the younger acolytes lingered on my elongated claws a little too long before an older monk quietly placed a hand on his shoulder. The boy immediately looked away, chastised. He seemed oddly familiar, though I couldn't stop to study him properly.
The head monk, meanwhile, standing at the front of the welcoming party, continued observing me for another moment before stepping forward and offering a small bow towards our group, his shaved head revealing a network of age spots and old scars while his beige robes hung loosely from a frame that looked frail right up until one noticed the forearms corded with taut muscle hidden beneath the sleeves.
"Welcome to the Fire Temple."
The older monk's gaze lingered on me for another moment before shifting towards Tiger.
"Lord Shibuki's message was received several days ago. Accommodations have already been prepared."
Tiger inclined his head.
"Our thanks."
The monk returned the gesture before his eyes drifted back towards me.
There was no hostility there, but neither was there the easy warmth I'd seen the monks on the road show some of the other travellers. He looked at me like I was the sort of problem he'd rather let his bosses solve. Frankly, that was probably the most reasonable response anyone had had to me in months.
"You are Mizuki?"
"That's what I've been told."
One corner of the monk's mouth twitched.
"An unusual answer."
"I've had an unusual year."
That actually earned me a thin smile from the man, though the caution never entirely left his eyes.
"So I've heard."
Well, now I was left wondering just what exactly Shibuki had Elder Senji write his old pen pal. Beside me, Fū suddenly bounced forward before anyone could stop her.
"Hi! I'm Fū!"
The older monk blinked, taken slightly aback by the sheer exuberance suddenly shoved in his face.
"… I am aware."
"Oh."
She seemed oddly disappointed by the lukewarm response and the monk's voice turned gentler as he addressed the teenager.
"Lord Shibuki's letter was very thorough." He explained and the mint-haired girl immediately perked up at that.
"Did it mention I helped save the village?"
"Several times."
Fū beamed.
"Good. Shibuki-sama really is the best!"
The monk's expression softened slightly, the reaction noticeably warmer than anything I'd received so far. Then again, Fū had the social advantage of not looking like she'd recently escaped from a forbidden experimentation laboratory.
The monk gestured towards the gates.
"Come. The abbot has agreed to receive you once you have had time to settle in."
His eyes briefly found me again.
"Particularly you."
There was something in the way he said it that immediately put me on guard, though the man offered no explanation.
With that, the monks turned and led us through the gates and into the sprawling temple complex beyond, the chanting growing louder with every step as the Fire Temple slowly swallowed us whole. The scent hit me almost immediately as we passed through the gates. Incense, naturally, though not nearly as overpowering as I'd expected. It lingered in the air alongside the smell of old wood, freshly cut grass and cooking rice drifting from somewhere deeper within the compound.
Monks moved about their daily routines all around us. Some carried buckets suspended from shoulder poles, others swept the stone paths or tended to the gardens lining the walkways, while a few sat beneath shaded verandas quietly reading scrolls. What struck me most wasn't what they were doing so much as how they were doing it. Nobody seemed hurried, or stressed. Nobody appeared particularly concerned about anything at all.
I was beginning to suspect these people had discovered some secret meditation technique that allowed them to simply opt out of reality whenever it became inconvenient.
That or they had put some of the Devil's Lettuce in those incense sticks of theirs. Actually, what was the drug trade like in the Naruto world? I bet ninja scientists came up with all sorts of freaky chakra-enhanced psychedelics. Hell, some of the research from Hiruko's labs I had been steadily reading through mentioned several drugs as well, though those were mostly medicinal, paralytic or straight up poison.
Still, I did have some vague ideas of taking over Gato's smuggling ring once I made my way further south towards the Land of the Sea… Actually, it's probably best not to contemplate becoming this world's version of Pablo Escobar while standing in the spiritual heart of my home country.
The monk led us steadily deeper into the temple grounds before eventually stopping in a large central courtyard. Training fields occupied one side where groups of monks moved through synchronized forms with a precision that would've made a Hyūga proud, while meticulously maintained gardens serenely dominated the other edge, while a broad hall dominated the far end of the space, its entrance framed by massive wooden pillars darkened by centuries of weather and use.
"Guest quarters have been prepared."
That immediately got Fū's attention.
"We get our own rooms?"
The monk blinked.
"Yes."
"Like... separate rooms? With beds?"
"… Yes?"
Fū looked genuinely delighted by this development. Meanwhile I just shot the young jinchūriki a sideways glance as I couldn't help but wonder about her home life. The monk smiled encouragingly, thoughts clearly having gone down a similar path.
Tiger mostly just looked concerned at the idea of leaving me and/or Fū unsupervised, even to sleep.
To be fair, I was feeling roughly the same way about the Legendary Stupid Brothers, watching the two giants from the corner of my eye just as Tsubaki smacked Rajin on the arm with a disapproving huff when the younger brother was eyeing a nearby koi pond with a little too much interest.
Once again bravely deciding to ignore the giants' antics I clapped my hands together as I shot my group a winning smile.
"Let's get settled in, yeah? I have a meeting with the abbot to prepare for-"
"We have a meeting with the abbot." Tiger interrupted and I just shrugged at the interruption.
"Hey, I understand. It's only proper to pay respects to your former Master after all."
Yeah, judging by the glare burning from those eyeholes, I was going to have to sleep with a kunai underneath my pillow from now on. Just to be safe.
I quickly discovered that the Fire Temple's definition of guest quarters differed somewhat from my own.
When the monk had said accommodations had been prepared, I'd been picturing something roughly equivalent to an inn. A few spare rooms. Some beds. Maybe a communal bath if the temple was feeling particularly generous.
Instead, we'd been handed an entire guest house.
Not a mansion by any means, but a sizeable wooden building situated near the edge of the temple grounds overlooking one of the many gardens scattered throughout the complex. Sliding paper doors opened onto a broad veranda, while several private rooms branched off from a central common area large enough to comfortably fit our entire group.
Fū immediately disappeared inside.
"This place is huge!"
A door slid open somewhere down the hallway.
"And it has its own bath!"
Another pause.
"And actual mattresses!"
Tsubaki smiled as she stepped inside.
"Takigakure has mattresses too."
"Yeah, but these aren't my mattresses."
I blinked.
"That's the selling point?"
"Absolutely."
Fū appeared in the doorway carrying what looked suspiciously like an entire closet worth of extra blankets she'd already claimed for herself.
"Nobody can tell me to stop jumping on these." She explained smugly.
"That's because nobody expects you to start."
"Their mistake."
'And guess what? As of now, also their problem.' I thought as Tsubaki and I moved deeper into the guest house.
The ANBU quietly but efficiently claimed the rooms on the top floor and the Brothers had quickly installed themselves near the building's small kitchen. After a bit of awkwardness, Tsubaki and I took the master bedroom for ourselves. We've shared tents and even bedrolls during our journeys from the prison to Hiruko to Taki to here, and yet somehow that felt different to sharing a proper bed together for the first time.
More… domestic.
Not that either of us commented on it.
Tsubaki busied herself unpacking what little we actually owned, while I found myself standing near the open window looking out over the temple grounds
From here, the complex seemed even larger than it had from the road. Monks moved between buildings along winding stone paths, while a steady stream of visitors filtered through the outer courtyards. Pilgrims, merchants, travellers and the occasional local farmer all mixed together in a slow but constant flow that made the temple feel less like a secluded monastery and more like a small (if overly devout) town.
It was the first place I'd been in that truly felt connected to a larger outside world. Despite the business of the place, it all felt structured, purposeful. All of it radiating a content feeling of… peace.
It was an odd feeling (and wasn't that a depressing indicator of how my life had gone in this new world?).
Ever since waking up in Mizuki's cell, I'd spent most of my time either running from someone, fighting someone or manipulating someone. Usually several someones simultaneously. The fact that nobody currently seemed interested in stabbing me felt almost unnatural.
I was still trying to decide whether that counted as personal growth or if I'd simply become far too comfortable with attempted murder when a polite knock sounded at the door. Three sharp taps, measured and deliberate in a way that somehow managed to feel distinctly monastic.
Tsubaki glanced up from where she was unpacking the contents of her pack.
"Come in."
The door slid open to reveal one of the younger monks from the welcoming party. He couldn't have been much older than thirteen, his robes still lacking the worn familiarity most of the older monks seemed to carry so effortlessly. The moment he realized he had both of our attention, he bowed politely, if perhaps a bit too deep by this world's standards.
"Mizuki-sama. The abbot will receive you now."
That was still going to take some getting used to as I blinked at the deferential tone. Having spent the majority of my time in this world as either a prisoner, a test subject or the henchman of a missing-nin had left me distinctly unaccustomed to being treated like a respected guest. Tsubaki smiled faintly as she caught my expression.
"Try not to antagonize any religious authorities."
"That sounds dangerously close to a challenge."
"It was a warning."
"Ah. No promises."
I grabbed my flak jacket and stepped outside, gesturing for the kid to lead on, before I glanced up to find Tiger already standing on the veranda.
Of course he was.
The ANBU captain stood at the railing overlooking the gardens, looking as though he'd been waiting there for several minutes, arms folded and posture perfectly straight. Either he'd anticipated the summons or he'd simply never relaxed enough to leave. Probably both.
The young monk bowed again.
"This way, please."
Neither of us spoke as he led us away from the guest house and deeper into the Fire Temple.
The route took us through parts of the complex we'd yet to see. The public spaces gradually fell away behind us, along with the pilgrims and travellers moving through the outer grounds. The further inward we travelled, the quieter things became. Monks still moved about their daily routines, but there were fewer of them now and those we did pass tended to be older, their robes somehow feeling more stately despite the fact all ninja monks wore the same simple outfit. It was a stark difference to how the Elders of Taki had differentiated themselves with elaborately decorated robes from the common fishermen and tradesmen.
Eventually we crossed a small stone bridge spanning a narrow stream before arriving at a modest building overlooking one of the temple's inner gardens.
Compared to some of the larger halls we'd passed, the structure was almost disappointingly ordinary.
The young monk, a child really, stopped outside the entrance and slid the door open.
"The abbot will see you now."
As the highest-ranking shinobi in our group (technically speaking, at least, considering only Tiger and his ANBU were officially Konoha ninja while the rest of us were here on Taki's behalf), he stepped inside first, leaving me little choice but to follow in his footsteps.
The room itself was surprisingly modest. Tatami mats covered the floor while dark wooden beams supported the ceiling overhead. A single scroll hung within a small alcove at the far end of the chamber, its calligraphy rendered in bold black brushstrokes I couldn't quite make out from where I sat. One side of the room stood open to a carefully maintained garden beyond, allowing sunlight and the faint scent of incense and old tatami to drift inside alongside the distant sound of running water. For the spiritual heart of one of Fire Country's oldest institutions, it felt remarkably unpretentious.
The room was spacious but sparsely furnished, dominated by a low table positioned before an open view of the garden outside. Waiting there were two men, though they differed vastly in appearance.
One of them I was pretty sure I recognized, even if my memories of his filler arc were hazy at best and I had been more focused on Kakuzu when the bounty hunter delivered the man's corpse. But if I was not mistaken, the tall man with the severe face and glaring at me like I had tracked mud all over his sacred grounds (I surreptitiously checked my sandals just to make sure indeed I hadn't) was Chiriku.
Former member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja, master of the Fire Temple's unique chakra and sealing techniques and, from everything I remembered from my past life, the strongest monk currently residing within the complex. The fact that someone barely older than Asuma occupied what was effectively the second highest position within the Fire Temple stood as a testament to his extraordinary skills. This was a man who had (however briefly) singlehandedly stalled two practically immortal S-Rank missing nin.
I wonder what he did that pissed someone off enough to place a 30 million ryō bounty on a monk of all people?
Then again, he'd worked security for the Fire Daimyo for years. The list of possibilities ranged from "thwarted an assassination" to "threw a nobleman's son through a wall."
Yet despite the tantalizing question, my attention was soon dragged towards the second (considerably older) man.
Not merely elderly, but properly ancient. Deep wrinkles creased every inch of Chūkaku's face, while a thin white beard hung from his chin and the passing of many years had reduced him to a wiry frame that looked like a strong gust of wind might carry him off if he wasn't careful.
And yet, for all that, the old monk seemed entirely at peace.
He sat cross-legged beside Chiriku with his back straight and a string of prayer beads loosely wrapped around one hand. At first glance, there wasn't anything particularly imposing about the diminutive abbot of the great Fire Temple. That, more than anything else, was what made him stand out.
The Naruto world had a habit of announcing powerful people. They were the ones with impossible physiques, impossible chakra reserves or impossible reputations. They filled rooms merely by entering them. Chūkaku looked more like somebody's elderly doting (and slightly senile) grandfather than the spiritual leader of one of Fire Country's oldest institutions.
Chūkaku's eyes settled on me and for a brief moment I had the uncomfortable feeling that he'd somehow caught the direction of my thoughts.
The old monk smiled knowingly.
"Greetings, Tiger-san, Mizuki-san. The great Fire Temple bids welcome to you both." He said kindly in a croaking voice that nonetheless conveyed a greater strength than I would've assumed from a living fossil.
Besides me, Tiger bowed and I hurriedly (if somewhat clumsily) followed suit.
"Thank you for having us. We are in your care." Tiger spoke formally.
"Please," Chūkaku said, gesturing towards the cushions opposite him and Chiriku, "Sit."
Tiger settled onto the cushion opposite Chiriku with the ease of someone who had spent entirely too much time sitting cross-legged in formal meetings. I followed a moment later, doing my best to imitate the movement and only partially succeeding. Years of Academy instruction and one extremely unfortunate stint in prison had done little to prepare me for the finer points of dignified sitting.
Tea had already been prepared for us, perhaps by that strikingly familiar boy from before, though I couldn't spot him now. I had a feeling I knew who the curious child might be, but right now wasn't the time to make inquiries, not with the head of the monastic order and an ANBU captain right beside me. It'd make my true purpose for coming here far too obvious. Instead, I focused on the monks on the other side of the low-slung table. A small ceramic pot rested between them alongside four cups, steam lazily curling upwards into the afternoon air.
Chūkaku poured tea for each of us personally despite Chiriku's obvious willingness to do it for him, showing us both great favour, which only served to make me nervous instead. The old monk's hands remained perfectly steady throughout, the years showing themselves in his appearance far more than in his movements. After murmuring our quiet thanks, Tiger and I politely picked up our cups, though I was curious to see how the ANBU captain would drink his tea with his porcelain mask in the way.
I was distracted however, when Chiriku set his cup down with quiet care before turning his attention to Tiger.
"Lord Shibuki's letter reached us several days ago," Chiriku said.
Tiger inclined his head.
"Then you are already aware of the circumstances."
"Some of them."
The younger monk glanced out towards the garden for a moment before returning his attention to the ANBU captain.
"Shibuki-dono's account was... enthusiastic. Perhaps overly so."
That sounded about right.
"Elder Senji's was considerably less so."
That sounded even more right.
Chiriku's expression softened slightly.
"The two letters described many of the same events, yet somehow managed to leave very different impressions."
Tiger was silent for a moment.
"That does not surprise me."
"No," Chiriku agreed. "I suppose it wouldn't."
The monk folded his hands inside his sleeves.
"Lord Shibuki appeared convinced that Takigakure owes Mizuki-san a debt it may never fully repay. Elder Senji seemed determined to reveal as little as possible while still remaining polite."
I didn't particularly blame Senji for remaining vague in his correspondence. If I were an elder of a hidden village, I probably wouldn't put details involving Hero Water, forbidden techniques and existential threats to national security into a letter either.
"A reasonable position," Tiger agreed.
Chiriku's gaze shifted towards me for the first time.
"Indeed. Yet one that leaves several questions unanswered. Questions I would now pose to you directly. How does a former Academy instructor escape prison, survive experimentation by the mad missing nin Hiruko and finally leave Takigakure carrying enough influence that the village leadership itself writes glowing recommendation letters on his behalf?"
Well, if you put things like that…
I opened my mouth.
"Forgive me, Chiriku."
Chūkaku hadn't raised his voice. Hadn't even looked away from his tea. Yet somehow the interruption felt neither rude nor abrupt, yet also impossible to ignore.
The old monk slowly set down his cup.
"The answer is undoubtedly fascinating."
A faint smile touched his face.
"And I suspect considerably longer than this afternoon allows."
That was probably true.
"However, I find myself curious about something else."
For the first time since entering the room, Chūkaku's full attention settled on me.
It was oddly uncomfortable I realized as the man slowly turned his prayer beads in one hand, while ponderously running the other through his thin beard.
"The events that brought you to the Fire Temple are certainly important, Mizuki-san," he said. "But they are not the true reason you are here."
The statement hung heavily in the air as I could feel Tiger's silent stare bore into the side of my head. The old monk continued.
"I'm not particularly interested in who you used to be, or even in everything that's happened to you."
His eyes remained on mine.
"What really interests me, is who is truly sitting here now."
I found myself staring at him, caught off guard by how easily he had cut through everything else.
The question sounded simple on the surface. Almost disappointingly so after all the discussion about prisons, experiments, missing-nin, and village politics. Yet the longer I sat with it, the more uncomfortable it became. Every answer that immediately came to mind felt incomplete somehow, insufficient before that patient gaze that I was beginning to realize saw so much more than I had thought at first.
It wasn't a simple question at all, I realized, not with how Chūkaku had phrased it.
"If this is in regards to Mizuki's amnesia, let me assure you, oh revered elder, that his condition was confirmed by my own ANBU-" Tiger started to my surprise, though whether he was defending me or the skills of his operatives I couldn't say.
Chūkaku nodded politely at the interruption and yet the tiny gesture of the frail old man carried enough weight to instantly silence the captain's words.
"One does not need to look to their past, in order to proclaim who they are today, nor who they choose to become tomorrow. So, I ask again, young Mizuki. Who are you?" the elder pressed slightly, though his demeanour remained utterly calm.
"I'm… me. With all of the gaps and all that has been added, I'm just… me. Or I hope so, at least." I eventually answered, surprising myself with my honesty as the ancient elder pinned me with a heavy gaze before he tugged on his thin beard, wrinkly face stretched in a comforting smile.
"For many of us, being ourselves is the best that we can hope to be. However, you or your idea of you, has been compromised, has it not?"
'Damn this guy is scary…' I gulped down the rest of my tea in a hurry as I tried to regain control of both myself and the conversation.
"Hiruko changed me." I said after taking a steadying breath.
Neither monk interrupted.
"The physical changes are obvious enough." I said with some self-deprecation as I lifted one hand slightly, exposing some of the dark markings visible beneath my sleeve.
"Hiruko spent decades modifying himself. Altering his body. Incorporating parts of others into himself until there wasn't much left of the original man."
The old monk nodded.
"And you fear the same fate."
"Something like that."
Which wasn't entirely a lie. It just wasn't the complete truth.
"I know what Hiruko became." I continued, remembering the man's obsession. The cold certainty with which he'd reduced every person around him into a tool, a component or an obstacle.
"The body is one thing," I continued. "The spirit is another."
The room remained quiet.
"Hiruko's modifications changed more than his appearance. Somewhere along the way he stopped being a man and became..." I searched briefly for an appropriate word. "Something else. Something wrong."
That earned a thoughtful nod from the elder monk.
"If the body changes enough, does the person eventually change with it?" he mused aloud, looking into his tea as if the steaming liquid held the answer.
I for sure didn't, so I just settled awkwardly on my cushion as I tried to ignore Tiger and Chiriku's stares. Chūkaku didn't look up as he continued thinking aloud, though this time I felt the raspy words were aimed at me.
"A man may lose an arm or an eye and remain the same man. He may scar, age, weaken or grow strong and remain the same man. Perhaps, if time allows, a better man than he had been before."
Then the monk glanced up, vast wisdom in his steely eyes as he studied me from across the table.
"And another may wake each morning in the same body he possessed the day before, yet become someone entirely different. Men rarely walk into darkness all at once. They do it one reasonable decision at a time."
It felt like a warning somehow and my claws tightened around the clay cup in my hands. After a moment however, the great elder smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening into laugh lines, taking me off guard.
"Hiruko did not become Hiruko because he altered his body," he said comfortingly, "He altered his body because he had already begun becoming Hiruko."
'That… somehow made sense, I guess?'
"You claim you fear corruption, of the mind and spirit. I do not think that is entirely true. I think you fear becoming powerless. Fear governs you, Oniyuri Mizuki, disguising itself as determination, as it so often does. You act as if frightened by that which is yet to come. It is for this reason that you seek strength, to overcome the holes left in your shattered past."
Now the elder monk's tone became sterner and I found myself sitting straighter.
"Fear has a way of convincing us that every compromise is temporary. Each step further is one taken to preserve yourself. Yet I ask you: at what point do these steps mean you begin losing yourself instead? What lines will you keep redrawing in the sands until one day you look up to see you've been drowning in the depths all along?"
A chill ran up my spine at the warning and I found myself working my jaw several times, trying to refute the man's words.
"You're asking me to let go of my fear. My fear is what has kept me alive. It has kept innocents alive! If it weren't for me, Shibuki-!"
The old monk wasn't having any of it.
"I say it to you now, Oniyuri Mizuki and take heed of these words: do not fear the death of the body, for that is not true death, merely the passing from this world into the next. Fear the true death, the death of self, for that is a slow death, an inconspicuous killer pretending to be your greatest ally, yet one that can deal you a blow like no other, leave you wretched and broken for all of time until the return of the Sage of the Six Paths and the end of all chakra."
Chūkaku didn't shout his words, hadn't even raised his voice. He hadn't needed to. The entire building was steeped in his essence as he examined me with a gaze that had seen everything under the sun, and all things that tried to hide in the dark as well. For some reason, in that moment, he reminded me of an angry Gandalf standing over a terrified and stubborn Bilbo.
Then the sensation of his presence diminished until all that was left was an elderly man stooped on his cushion, gazing into his tea with a forlorn gaze.
"… I was quite foolish in my youth, you know. Perhaps I still am, though none of the monks here would dare think such a thing of me. Perhaps foolishness is simply the human condition. But, in my experience, fools make for the greatest teachers and mistakes make for the best lessons. Take my words to heart, young Mizuki. Whatever path you have set yourself on, do not look towards its horizon; instead, look beside you, to those willing to walk it with you, for they are your true strength and it is in them that you may find your truest self."
This… this was not how I had envisioned this conversation going. Seeing Tiger and Chiriku bow in deference towards the old man, I couldn't help but follow, my forehead touching the tatami mats.
"… I thank you for your words, honoured Elder, I am grateful-"
"No you're not." Chūkaku interrupted me with a loud snort as he slurped his tea, leaving me sweatdropping at his blasé attitude.
Nonetheless, I forged ahead.
"I shall meditate upon them. I hope I prove wise enough to learn from their wisdom."
"Now that, I believe and I hope you shall." The elder grinned mischievously, before he let out a deep sigh.
"Please, excuse me, I'm afraid I must retire now. I tire easily these days. Any further business you have at the Temple, you may discuss with Chiriku. He basically runs the place already. Good practice too, once I finally kick the bucket one of these days." Chūkaku said as he slowly worked his way to his feet with a tired grunt.
Chiriku was immediately at his side, helping the ancient man up with a slightly annoyed expression that was expertly tailored into one of professional neutrality.
"Please, honoured master, you should not say such things. You shall guide us for many moons to come-"
"You don't believe that either." Chūkaku chuckled, patting the younger monk on his arm as Chiriku was left speechless.
As the ancient monk turned away from us, I found myself surging to my feet, desperate to at least salvage something out of this strange conversation.
"Oh honoured Elder, one final question if I may!"
"Sit your ass down, Oniyuri, didn't the Elder just say we tired him enough already-!" Tiger was of course right there in my face the moment I sprung up, but Chūkaku's voice halted him in his tracks.
"Of course, but make it snappy. I want my nap." The old man said with a yawn, his previous stately manner all but gone, leaving me a bit flatfooted.
"Ah, well… I was wondering… is it alright if I attended the ninja monks' training sessions during our stay here?"
"Absolutely not-!" Chiriku began.
"Sure." Chūkaku finished.
"Master?!"
"I will say this however, Mizuki. The Gift of the Hermit Group is not something studied and gained over the course of a few training sessions. The special chakra we cultivate here, a sort of non-elemental affinity, is something that we gain over our lifetime. It is something that is as closely connected to our way of life as it is to our martial arts forms. You can copy the movements, but until you understand the meaning, the intent and heart behind them, it will remain nothing more than mere mimicry." The old man warned, though the gentle smile that followed took most of the sting out of it.
"Still, I would encourage you, and those in your party, to participate nonetheless. The movements themselves have been designed and refined over the course of generations to calm the mind and purify the body. It is no cure, but I hope it still may prove of some aid to you."
This time I didn't need Tiger's prompting as I offered the ancient ninja monk a polite bow.
"I thank you for your kindness, honoured elder."
"Don't thank me yet! Sessions start at 6 AM on the dot and Chiriku here leads the monks through their forms. He can be a… demanding taskmaster." Chūkaku chuckled as he patted the tall man on his arm, the former Ninja Guardian suddenly gaining a worryingly enthusiastic glimmer in his eye.
As the ancient master hobbled away, Asuma's former comrade even went so far as to crack his knuckles as he shot me an appraising look.
"You know, I stand corrected. This may prove a very… interesting learning experience. For the both of us."
'… I might have made a mistake…'
Tiger's clear sense of smugness radiating off him didn't help matters. Wait…
"How the hell did you finish your tea?! I didn't even see you move your mask?!"
//
AN: This came out both longer and later than I had originally intended. I was briefly considering turning this chapter into two, but that would leave us with a nothing-chapter right after an interlude and I really wanted to get to the conversation with the elder in this chapter. I tried channelling a mixture of Oogway and Yoda when I wrote him, let me know how I did.
As for why this came out later than expected, the reason is twofold. First, I'm in the midst of moving (finally) so most of my life for the past two weeks has been buying furniture, carrying furniture up a flight of stairs and rearranging furniture. The second reason is I've been bit by the Chaos Gacha writing bug. It's actually a lot of fun and lends itself to shorter chapters where the goal is to hit a new roll each chapter. It takes place in the GoT universe and follows Will (the dude that gets beheaded in the first episode… I can make it work, trust me). It's one of the first fics of mine in a while that isn't a SI so that's different and fun too. Several chapters have been written already, but I'm holding off on publishing them until I have a backlog. I kinda feel bad about keeping chapters hostage, but it's necessary to make signing up for my Patreon actually worth something and as I said, I've recently moved, so I really do need every bit of additional income I can get. Hopefully I can keep the flow of chapters for Stripes coming pretty regularly, I would love to actually finish a fic for once.