Sōmi stepped into the temple, where the incense burners were busy with offerings. Wisps of fragrant smoke spiraled upward, only to be gently scattered by the breeze midway to the sky.
"Ah, Sōmi, you're back!" A middle-aged monk sweeping fallen leaves on the right side of the temple greeted him warmly upon seeing him.
"Good day, Uncle Enkōka! Where's my master? Everything going well at the temple lately?" Sōmi replied cheerfully.
"Your master is in the backyard. Everything's fine here; no need to worry," Uncle Enkōka said with a kind smile, his eyes crinkling slightly.
"Alright then, I'll head over to see him!" Sōmi waved and navigated through the crowd of visitors with ease, making his way to the backyard.
Thanks to the nearby river, the backyard boasted a rare patch of greenery. At its center stood a massive ginkgo tree, its golden leaves shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight. Countless leaves had fallen to the ground, swirling gently with the breeze, carpeting the yard in a dazzling golden tapestry.
As Sōmi stepped onto the leaves, they rustled underfoot, creating a soft, ethereal melody.
With a creak, Sōmi pushed open the familiar wooden door to find an elderly monk holding a book, gently instructing a young child who looked no more than five or six years old.
"Master! I'm back!" Sōmi clasped his hands together in a respectful bow.
"Good, good... It's good to have you back," the old monk said, a spark of light brightening his cloudy eyes upon seeing Sōmi.
The room was spacious, with a bed placed horizontally at the back and a desk surrounded by a few floor cushions in the outer area.
The young child appeared somewhat shy. Upon seeing Sōmi enter, he grew visibly uneasy and edged closer to the old monk for comfort.
"Master, who is he?" Sōmi asked as he pulled over a cushion and sat down across from the old monk, feeling completely at home in the room where he had spent every night of his childhood after being adopted.
"This is Hōichi, the new disciple taken in by Brother Bunpuku," the old monk said, gently patting the boy's head with his withered hand.
"What?! So that means this little guy is technically my grandmaster-uncle?" Sōmi exclaimed loudly.
"Master, this is all your fault! I should've been given a name in the Fa generation too, but you insisted on putting me in the youngest Zō generation! Aren't I your disciple as well?!" Sōmi pouted, his tone full of playful grievance.
"You, huh... I've told you before, there's no formal master-disciple relationship between us. Besides, you're no longer part of this temple, so what does the generational hierarchy have to do with you?" The old monk retorted with a chuckle, the deep wrinkles on his face smoothing out as he pointed at Sōmi's jet-black hair.
He then stroked the bright, smooth head of the child beside him, as if reminiscing about the past.
When he had first brought Sōmi to the temple, he never imagined that the little boy would grow up to ask so many strange questions—about invincible heroes like Zoffy or fiery captains. Even with his self-proclaimed broad knowledge, the old monk often found himself at a loss.
"Heh heh!" Sōmi grinned broadly. In this world, the old monk before him was his closest family, and their playful banter was a common occurrence. His earlier "grandmaster-uncle" remark had been nothing more than a joke.
Even the term "master" was something the old monk had reluctantly accepted under Sōmi's persistent insistence. Initially, he had been unwilling to let this "outsider" call him that.
However, Sōmi still addressed other monks in the temple by their proper generational titles, such as "uncle" or "grandmaster." The old monk was the sole exception.
"Did you encounter any difficulties during your mission?" the old monk asked.
"Come on, Master, you know my skills—what could possibly trouble me?" Sōmi replied confidently.
The two exchanged pleasantries for a while before Sōmi began unpacking a large assortment of daily necessities from a scroll, including fruits and vegetables.
"Remember to boil the water before drinking it. I've told you about this bad habit of yours for ages..."
"Make sure to maintain a balanced diet. Don't give me that 'we're monks' excuse—you're not a sage. Even sages need to eat..."
"This is a new cotton quilt I bought. Use it when it gets cold. I bought plenty, so the uncles and brothers have their own. Don't give yours away to them..."
"And your old legs—how are you going to sleep without staying warm?"
As Sōmi nagged, he busied himself tidying up the room, replacing the old bedding with new sheets and quilts, neatly arranging everything.
The bright red quilt added a touch of vibrancy to the otherwise austere room.
Finally, Sōmi pulled out several brand-new leather balls and lined them up in a row against the wall.
The old monk said nothing, simply sitting on a stool with a contented smile as he watched Sōmi bustle about.
The young child, too, stared wide-eyed at Sōmi. Since arriving at the temple, he had only ever seen the monks maintain a calm and composed demeanor. This was his first time encountering someone so animated and talkative.
"Master, is this little bald kid mischievous? Does he give you trouble?" Sōmi asked, standing to the side after finishing his tasks. The name "Hōichi" sounded vaguely familiar to him.
"No matter how mischievous he might be, he couldn't possibly outdo you. Have you forgotten the time you climbed up to the rafters at the age of two? You scared me half to death back then..." The old monk teased.
"Uh..." Sōmi scratched his head awkwardly.
"Master, I'll go pay my respects to Grandmaster Bunpuku first and come back later!" Sōmi found an excuse and slipped out of the room.
"Master... who is he?" the young child asked timidly, his eyes following Sōmi's departing figure.
"Him? He will become someone truly remarkable in the future," the old monk replied, his face brimming with pride.
"Do you think I could become someone remarkable too?" The child's eyes lit up with hope.
"Of course you can!" The old monk reassured him, gently patting the boy's smooth head.
In a desolate area far from the temple, the wind howled fiercely, producing an eerie wailing sound.
The relentless sun beat down mercilessly, casting invisible flames of heat upon the parched ground below.
"Ah! It's so hot today!"
"Yeah, what rotten luck, getting stuck on duty in this weather!"
"Ugh, how much longer are we going to keep that old guy locked up in there? It's been decades already..."
At the center of the wasteland stood a tall tower, its surface etched with strange black markings that gave it an ominous aura.
The base of the tower was encircled by a fence of reinforced iron, as if it were containing some ferocious beast.
Two young shinobi on duty stood in the shade outside the fence, beads of sweat forming on their brows as they complained.
Suddenly, one of the sharper-eyed ninja spotted a figure in the distance. Nudging his companion, the two immediately straightened up, fixing their gazes forward and assuming an alert posture.
"Lord Sōmi!"
Their respectful greetings rang out in unison as Sōmi approached. He gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.
As the personal disciple of the Third Kazekage and a recognized genius, Sōmi commanded respect even among Sunagakure's lower-ranking shinobi.
"Lord Sōmi, are you here to deliver food again?" one of the young ninja, who had a more presentable appearance, asked ingratiatingly.
"Yes. You two can take a break now—I'll handle things here," Sōmi instructed. He preferred to speak with Grandmaster Bunpuku without any unnecessary personnel around.
This wasn't the first time Sōmi had made such a request, and the two guards were more than happy to leave their dull and grueling post.