The back hills were thick with grass and wild growth, old trees rising like pillars through the canopy. Sasuke stopped atop a low rise. At its base lay several stones, each about the size of a human head.
He drew the short blade and spun it lightly in his hand, testing the balance. After a moment, he selected a stone and lifted it.
He wasn't here to fight.
He was here to carve.
More precisely, to carve with chakra.
After speaking with Sakura, Sasuke had returned to a craft he had once set aside. It demanded precision, patience, and restraint. Each cut mattered. One slip could ruin the entire piece. The discipline suited him.
He chose the simplest tool.
A blade.
He fed chakra into the dagger. The metal flushed red, a faint hiss rising as heat gathered along the edge. Against ordinary steel, chakra met resistance. Against chakra-conductive metal, it flowed freely.
The first touch shattered the stone.
Too much.
Sasuke set the broken piece aside without comment, took another stone, and adjusted. Less output. Finer control.
Time passed.
Stone after stone fell to chips and dust. His hands learned. His wrists steadied. The blade obeyed.
By midday, he had found the rhythm.
He shaved away the rough edges, flattening the surface. Then he began again, carving the first character with measured strokes. Chakra flowed in thin, controlled streams. The blade moved faster now, tracing lines cleanly, confidently.
Someone was watching.
Sasuke glanced up.
A small girl stood at a distance, perhaps eight or nine years old. She had long brown hair falling to her shoulders and wore a light-colored kimono over a mesh underlayer. A sketch board rested in her hands, paints tucked beneath her arm.
"Sorry," she said, cheeks coloring. "Am I bothering you?"
"No," Sasuke replied. He gestured for her to continue as she liked and returned to his work.
She moved off, set up her board, and began to draw. Every so often, she peeked over, curiosity plain on her face.
Sasuke didn't notice.
His focus narrowed to the blade, the stone, the flow of chakra. Sweat slid down his brow. He didn't wipe it away. The dagger danced, leaving crisp lines behind. Characters emerged, deep and even, carved in a single, unbroken sequence.
When the sun climbed high, he stopped.
Sasuke exhaled, brushed away the dust, and studied the result. The characters were clean, balanced, alive with intent.
The improvement was immediate. Chakra control felt sharper. His wrist steadier. The blade answered faster.
"May I look?" the girl asked softly.
He stepped aside. "It's nothing special."
She leaned in, reading what she could. Some of the characters made sense to her. Others didn't. She frowned, puzzled.
"What's this called?" she asked.
"Memorial Address," Sasuke said.
She repeated the words, still unsure, then nodded. "I see."
After a pause, she looked up at him. "You're Uchiha Sasuke, right?"
"Yes."
She straightened slightly and offered a small, earnest smile."Hello. I'm Kurama Yakumo."