"Food is essential for life. You'll get hungry if you skip a meal. Elder Bunpuku, after how the village has treated you, why bother saving them grain? At least eat something…"
Seiki crouched in front of the frail old monk, a simple wooden bowl of rice cradled carefully in his hands.
Bunpuku merely shook his head.
"Young man," Bunpuku said gently, his voice little more than a whisper, "I have no appetite. You should eat more."
Seiki's fingers tightened slightly around the bowl.
Two days.
Two days had passed. Bunpuku still refuse to eat or drink. Without food or water, was visibly wasting away before their eyes.
Yet Yura, who was in charge of the detention center, ignored Bunpuku's condition completely.
Outside the cell, Yura—leaned lazily against the wall. His gaze swept over Bunpuku's frail form with open contempt.
"Old geezer," he sneered, "dead yet? No? Fine. I'll ask again tomorrow."
Seiki's head snapped up.
"Cut the crap," he shot back instantly. "You'll die before the old man does."
Yura's eyes narrowed.
"A brat abandoned by his comrades dares act arrogant?" he mocked. "Don't think having some advisor backing you means you're untouchable. Let me make this clear—Lord Rasa won't spare you."
Far away in his residence, Rasa suddenly sneezed for no apparent reason, frowning slightly as if sensing someone speaking ill of him.
Seiki almost laughed.
"Rasa won't spare me?" he said, his lips curling into a cold smile. "I'm the one who won't spare him."
Yura's face twisted in irritation. With a sudden motion, he kicked over the bowls of food—both Bunpuku's and Seiki's. Rice scattered across the filthy stone floor.
"If you're so capable," Yura jeered, grinding the food beneath his heel, "you don't need to eat, right? Hahaha…"
The laughter echoed harshly through the narrow corridor.
Seiki slowly rose to his feet.
He stretched his shoulders once, casually, as if loosening stiff muscles. But when he lifted his gaze, the air itself seemed to tighten.
His eyes locked onto Yura—sharp, cold, predatory. Like a hawk fixing upon prey.
Yura instinctively stiffened. "What are you doing?"
"Sending you on your way."
Before Yura could react, Seiki's arm shot forward through the bars of the cell door. The movement was impossibly fast—too fast.
His hand clamped around Yura's throat.
Even as a jōnin, Yura couldn't follow the motion, let alone defend against it. His body lifted slightly off the ground as Seiki's fingers tightened like iron bands.
"Y–you…!"
He clawed at Seiki's wrist, but it was like struggling against a steel vice. His vision darkened at the edges. His limbs weakened. Within moments, the fight drained from him as oxygen fled his lungs.
His movements slowed.
Then stilled.
At that moment, Bunpuku's voice sounded from behind.
"Young man… formless and colorless. Without anger, without madness. Without desire, without pursuit… let him go."
Seiki's grip paused.
He turned his head to look at the old monk.
After a brief silence, he exhaled sharply and flung Yura aside.
Yura's body slammed violently into the opposite wall. A mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips before he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
"Elder," Seiki said, frowning, "he sees you as a monster. He wants you dead. Why save him?"
Bunpuku slowly raised his right hand.
On his palm were the characters "heart" and "receive," written long ago in faded ink.
He gazed at them quietly.
"All my life," Bunpuku said softly, "I reminded myself not to harbor hatred. In the end, I realized something."
His voice did not tremble.
"I am not a monster. Shukaku is not a monster either. The true monsters… are human prejudice."
His fingers slowly curled into a fist.
"Small love saves oneself," he continued. "Great love saves the world."
He looked at Seiki with clear, unwavering eyes.
"Young man, you once said that meeting is fate. I hope you remember my words."
A faint pause.
"And now… you must flee."
Seiki stiffened. "What do you mean?"
Bunpuku did not answer directly.
Instead, he rose unsteadily to his feet. His frail body swayed, yet his steps toward the cell door were firm. Placing both hands upon the specially reinforced gate—designed specifically to contain a Tailed Beast—he drew in a long, slow breath.
Then his eyes snapped open.
Every last thread of chakra remaining within his body surged toward his palms.
"Open!"
The air exploded with pressure.
A terrifying force erupted outward as Bunpuku pushed. The reinforced gate groaned violently, metal shrieking under strain. Cracks spidered through its surface before, with a thunderous crash, the barrier was forced open.
Dust filled the corridor.
And Bunpuku collapsed.
Seiki rushed forward, catching the old monk before he struck the ground. The old man felt impossibly light in his arms.
"Has your time finally come?" Seiki asked quietly.
Bunpuku gave a faint nod.
"Young man… run," he murmured. "Shukaku refuses to heed my counsel. Once I die… it will likely drown the entire Sand Village in blood for my sake."
His breathing grew shallow.
"Sin upon sin…"
Seiki's grip tightened.
"Elder Bunpuku," he said firmly, "I will stop it."
For a moment, Bunpuku searched his face.
Though they had known each other less than three days, he saw no hesitation in the boy's eyes—only resolve.
This child from another village, who treated him not as a weapon nor as a monster, but as a person… as a friend.
A gentle smile appeared on the old monk's face.
"Then… I leave it to you."
His fingers, thin and trembling, tightened around Seiki's hand once.
Then slowly, peacefully, Bunpuku closed his eyes.
Silence lingered for a single heartbeat.
And then—
A piercing roar tore through the air outside the Sand Village.
It was vast. Ancient. Wrathful.
The cry of a colossal beast, freed at last from restraint.
---
Rasa had only just fallen asleep when the roar shattered the stillness of the night.
He jolted upright in bed, eyes snapping open. The windows rattled violently as a shockwave rolled across the village. Beside him, Karura stirred in alarm.
"It's nothing," Rasa said quickly, already rising. "Stay inside."
He placed a steadying hand over hers for a brief moment before turning away. In swift, practiced motions, he changed into his shinobi attire, fastening his cloak and stepping into the cold desert air.
The night sky flickered with distant explosions.
"As expected… it's Shukaku."
In the distance, the colossal form of the One-Tail loomed against the moonlight—sand-colored fur bristling, its massive tail lashing through buildings like brittle reeds.
Rasa's brow furrowed.
Yura's report had clearly stated that the Jinchūriki's condition was stable. Bunpuku had shown no signs of losing control. So why—
Why now?
There had been no warning.
---
Across the village, chaos reigned.
Most of the Sand shinobi had never faced a Tailed Beast before. Their movements were disorganized, driven more by fear than strategy.
Shuriken flew in glittering arcs. Kunai streaked through the air. Explosive tags detonated against Shukaku's massive body in bursts of flame and smoke.
It was meaningless.
The attacks barely scratched its hide.
Shukaku, already consumed by grief and rage over Bunpuku's death, grew even more enraged under the barrage. Its enormous jaws split open, and chakra condensed violently at its throat.
"Wind Release: Drilling Air Bullet!"
Compressed spirals of cutting wind shot forth like artillery shells.
Each blast tore through defensive formations, shattering buildings and flinging shinobi through the air. Defensive lines crumbled in seconds.
---
Rasa clenched his jaw.
"Yashamaru!" he barked. "Go to the detention center immediately!"
Without waiting for a reply, Rasa formed hand seals.
"Magnet Release: Gold Dust Cushion!"
A swirling cloud of glittering golden sand formed beneath his feet, lifting him high into the air. He surged toward the battlefield.
As Kazekage, he could not hesitate.
The village's survival rested on his shoulders.
---
At the detention center, Yashamaru arrived moments later.
The scene before him stopped him cold.
Yura lay unconscious against a wall, blood staining his lips.
Bunpuku's frail body lay still upon the ground.
And atop the building stood Sarutobi Seiki, gazing toward the distant rampage of Shukaku.
"Sarutobi Seiki…" Yashamaru called out, his voice steady but tense. "Did you release the Tailed Beast?"
Unlike others, Yashamaru did not attack immediately. His temperament was gentle, cautious.
Seiki didn't even look at him at first. He simply pointed down at Yura with a cold expression.
"Looks like you've all been deceived by him."
Yashamaru stiffened.
"What do you mean?"
"Elder Bunpuku hasn't eaten or drunk for days," Seiki said, his voice low but sharp as a blade. "Yura never once summoned a medical ninja. He let him waste away."
His eyes darkened.
"So when Shukaku rampaged… Yura is the direct culprit."
Yashamaru's breath caught in his throat.
He slowly turned toward Bunpuku's body.
Under the moonlight, the old monk's frame looked scarcely human—sunken cheeks, paper-thin skin, bones pressing against cloth.
The suffering he must have endured…
Yashamaru's chest tightened painfully. Gentle by nature, he could barely bear to look.
Seiki's voice softened slightly.
"Take good care of Elder Bunpuku's remains."
He lifted his gaze toward the distant battlefield.
"I'm going to fulfill my promise now."
Before Yashamaru could respond, Seiki bent his knees and leapt.
His figure shot into the night sky like an arrow released from its bow.
Yashamaru did not pursue.
The determination in that boy's expression left no room for doubt.
---
Back on the battlefield—
"Magnet Release: Gold Dust Spear!"
With a sweeping motion, Rasa formed a massive spear of condensed golden sand and hurled it toward Shukaku.
The weapon cut through the air like a falling star.
But Shukaku roared and lashed its massive tail.
A crescent-shaped wind blade erupted outward, colliding with the golden spear and shattering it into countless glittering fragments.
A squad of shinobi rushed forward.
"Earth Release: Earth-Style Rampart!"
Thick walls of hardened earth rose from the ground, forming temporary barriers around Shukaku's legs to restrict its movement.
Rasa seized the opportunity.
Hand seals flashed.
"Magnet Release: Gold Dust Great Burial!"
An ocean of gold surged across the battlefield. Sand roared forward like a tidal wave, engulfing Shukaku entirely in seconds.
The colossal beast disappeared beneath a mountain of shimmering gold.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then cheers erupted from the younger shinobi.
"It worked!"
"Even a Tailed Beast can't escape that!"
But their celebration lasted only seconds.
From within the golden mass, an overwhelming surge of chakra exploded outward.
The sand trembled violently.
Then—
A pitch-black sphere condensed, dense and compressed beyond imagination.
"Tailed Beast Bomb—!"
The orb shot forth.
A distant hill vanished in an instant, erased from existence as if it had never stood there.
The shockwave flattened everything in its path.
The cheers died.
Panic spread like wildfire.
"So this is… the power of a Tailed Beast?"
"It's impossible…"
Some shinobi turned and fled.
The battle line collapsed into chaos.
---
"Damn it… I need the black tea kettle!"
Rasa gritted his teeth. That sealing tool was their only reliable method of suppressing Shukaku.
"Baki squad—retrieve it immediately!"
"Yes, Lord Kazekage!"
"Everyone else—stop Shukaku from advancing!"
Earth Release techniques rose again and again, desperately attempting to slow the beast's movements.
But Shukaku's chakra was swelling.
Another Tailed Beast Bomb was forming.
Inside the beast's mind, Bunpuku's final moments replayed endlessly.
The old monk's frail body.
His fading warmth.
Grief twisted into wrath.
"Filthy humans—die!"
This time, the Tailed Beast Bomb was aimed directly at the heart of the Sand Village.
Even as Earth Release techniques struck and disrupted it, the black sphere continued to condense.
Rasa poured everything into his chakra reserves.
"Magnet Release: Gold Dust Great Burial!"
This time, the scale dwarfed anything before.
A massive golden wave surged upward, forcibly lifting the descending Tailed Beast Bomb into the air.
But it was not enough.
Its trajectory shifted—but not completely.
Despair crept into Rasa's eyes.
---
Then—
A streak of blazing light tore across the sky.
"Seven Heavenly Breaths! Seventh Activation!"
The air ignited.
A figure wrapped in scorching, flame-like currents surged forward, leaving behind a comet's trail.
The temperature spiked violently.
"Flame Emperor!"
With a thunderous roar, the blazing figure kicked directly into the Tailed Beast Bomb.
The collision unleashed an enormous shockwave.
The black sphere was blasted high into the sky—
And then it exploded.
A deafening boom rolled across the desert.
A towering mushroom cloud bloomed above the village, lighting the night like a second sun.
Shockwaves rippled outward, but the Sand Village below remained intact.
The Sand Village had narrowly escaped another catastrophe.
Yet neither Rasa nor the Sand shinobi knew the identity of the hero who had saved their village…
***
TL note: In case u don't know, like me, again.
The Seven Heavens Breathing Method is a specialized taijutsu technique created by Shira of the Hidden Sand, designed to increase lung capacity fourfold, enabling physical prowess comparable to the Eight Gates. The seventh activation is the final, most dangerous level, allowing immense speed and strength while creating a vacuum-like, roaring aura around the user.