That night, Sasuke had barely returned home from training when hurried knocks struck the door.
He opened it to find Naruto bent over, hands on his knees, breathing hard as if he'd run the whole way.
"What is it?" Sasuke asked.
"Get inside. I'll tell you."
Once seated, Naruto lowered his voice, eyes darting around. "Sasuke… what I'm about to say. Don't freak out."
Sasuke leaned back slightly, settling into his chair. "Go on. I won't."
"I saw a ghost."
Sasuke adjusted his posture, looking more comfortable than concerned. "Is 'Ghost' someone's codename?"
"No," Naruto said seriously. "It's the ninja everyone calls Konoha's strongest taijutsu master."
"…Might Guy?"
"Who's that? No, not him."
Naruto frowned, trying to recall the scroll's description. "The one who died in the Third Great Ninja War. The village calls him a hero."
Sasuke paused. "You mean Might Duy?"
Naruto shook his head hard. "No! Sasuke, it's that guy who created Konoha Dragon God. The taijutsu master who died in the war. Chen-sensei."
Ah.So that was how he was remembered now.
Sasuke nodded. "I follow. Keep going."
"I found a scroll in the library. It said his taijutsu was insane, and even listed the location of his grave. So I went to see it." Naruto's voice dropped, his hands waving dramatically. "And guess what I saw?"
"What."
"I saw Chen-sensei alive!"
Naruto's eyes went wide. "He was standing in front of his own grave. Eating the rice balls people left there."
Sasuke was quiet for a moment. Then, "That's it?"
Naruto slammed his hands on the table. "Oi! I'm serious!"
"Sure," Sasuke said evenly. "How did you know it was really him?"
"At first I thought he was just some old guy stealing offerings. So when he grabbed the rice ball, I kicked it away."
"And then?"
"…Then he beat me up. Casually."
"With taijutsu?"
"Yeah. Just taijutsu."
"I see." Sasuke nodded once. "Then isn't that perfect? You're looking for a way to get stronger. Why not ask him to teach you?"
Naruto froze. "…Oh."
Then his voice dropped again. "But Sasuke. What if he really is a ghost? Chen-sensei died in the war."
"As long as you get stronger, does it matter?" Sasuke said calmly. "Human, ghost, or not even Chen-sensei at all. Or are you scared?"
Naruto shot to his feet. "I'm not scared! I'll go back tomorrow and figure it out!"
"Good." Sasuke nodded. "Anything else?"
"…Huh?"
"If not, you can leave."
Naruto stared at him, speechless, then stomped out.
The next day, deep in the hills behind Konoha.
Early spring had painted the land in quiet color. Slender willows swayed gently, their leaves like loose green hair in the wind. Red clover spread beneath them, bright and alive.
At the center of the grove, Sasuke stood before a stone nearly as tall as himself.
A short blade of chakra metal moved in his hand, flashing like an afterimage. Lightning crawled along the blade's edge, sharp and focused.
Each cut bit into stone with surgical precision. Chips scattered. The surface left behind was smooth and clean.
Lightning Release carving.
Slowly, a human shape began to emerge from the raw stone.
Then Sasuke twisted his wrist. The lightning faded, replaced by a deep red glow. Heat shimmered along the blade, white vapor rising softly.
Fire Release carving.
The chakra flow was exact. Too much, and the stone would blacken or crack. Too little, and the details would blur. Sasuke held it perfectly balanced.
What stood out most was his gaze.
His eyes were open, fixed on the sculpture. Yet his pupils were unfocused, empty of any point of sight.
Sight sealed.
Not far away, Yakumo Kurama sat quietly with her sketchpad, absorbed in her drawing.
The sealed vision was her work, done at Sasuke's request.
One day, he would face a long stretch without sight. He had no intention of being helpless when that time came.
Without vision, he relied on sound. Each strike told him what the stone had become. Each vibration spoke its shape.
That sharpened hearing had already proven its worth.
The spring wind brushed his face, warm and gentle. Sasuke's movements slowed, not from fatigue, but from immersion.
Two hours had passed.
Mental strain should have set in by now.
Instead, his focus deepened.
As if the land itself were steadying him.