"You foolish monk, was it worth it? All of this for those people who locked you in a prison for your whole life?"
After decades together, Shukaku still couldn't comprehend Bunpuku's compassion.
"They called you monster. They separated you from your family. They used you as a weapon. And now you die protecting them?"
"What twisted logic drives you humans?"
Bunpuku didn't answer the One-Tail. Instead, he slowly raised his own hands, on which were written the characters for "accept" and "heart".
Then, trembling but resolute, he clasped his hands together. At that moment, "accept" and "heart" combined to form "love".
Perhaps, this was his answer to the One-Tail. No words were needed.
Shukaku fell silent too. The tail behind it swayed gently, as though it were bidding a final farewell.
Though it had to admit that Bunpuku was a decent monk, perhaps even possessing a character close to that of the Sage of Six Paths, it wasn't about to die along with him.
It didn't hate the monk, but survival was paramount for Shukaku. It knew that if its jinchūriki died, the tailed beast itself would also vanish.
While its chakra would eventually reform, who knew how many years it would take? And there was no guarantee that the Shukaku that returned would still be "itself."
The swaying tail wasn't bidding Bunpuku farewell; it was gathering chakra.
Shukaku's chubby paws were forming the Ram seal at that moment.
As one of the more scholarly of the tailed beasts, it relied on its own knowledge to undo the sealing jutsu at this critical moment, as Bunpuku's body reached the brink of collapse.
Under the sharp gaze of Ryouma's Rikugan, Bunpuku's body, engulfed by the flames of the Grand Flame Rasengan, began to glow with intricate sealing marks. The marks shifted from black to red to brilliant white as they destabilized.
Then, like chains shattered by sheer force, they broke apart.
Malignant chakra erupted from Bunpuku's body in torrents, coalescing into a giant tanuki with violet markings.
Shukaku had emerged in full glory!
The moment it broke free, it let out a wild, beastly roar into the sky. Yet, its cry didn't carry the joy of freedom but rather a sorrowful undertone, as though it were saying goodbye to something—or someone.
Though it wouldn't show it, the time spent with Bunpuku over the past few years had taught it much from this kind-hearted human.
The monk had never feared it, never hated it for what it was. Instead, he had spoken to it as an equal, shared his thoughts, his wisdom, even his ridiculous tea ceremony rituals that Shukaku had pretended to despise.
Shukaku's emergence signified that Bunpuku had already passed away, leaving behind only a charred, empty vessel.
Bunpuku was, after all, just an ordinary human—not like Kushina, who had the immense vitality of the Uzumaki clan.
Seeing this, Ryouma sighed. He hadn't held back earlier; under normal circumstances, no jinchūriki could have survived such an attack. Except for Shukaku, whose expertise in sealing techniques set it apart.
"This is a hassle," he muttered, furrowing his brows.
Shukaku itself wasn't an insurmountable problem. To an ordinary ninja, tailed beasts were disasters incarnate, but to true elites, it took something on the scale of the Eight-Tails or higher to pose a real threat.
What worried him was the large number of injured and unconscious Konoha ninjas in the area. Even if he avoided using high-power jutsu, there was no guarantee Shukaku would cooperate.
While Ryouma was pondering the fastest way to neutralize Shukaku, he noticed Tsunade beginning to move. Despite her depleted state, the will to fight burned in her eyes.
Having recovered a small amount of chakra, she bit her finger, drawing blood.
She slammed her hands onto the ground, intricate sealing formulas spreading out from her palms in spiral patterns.
A gigantic slug appeared once again.
"Lady Tsunade, what are your orders?" the slug asked in its soft, sticky voice. Its eyestalks swiveled, observing the devastating battlefield and the form of Shukaku with remarkable composure.
"Immediately split yourself and evacuate all the injured away from Shukaku," Tsunade commanded.
"Understood, Lady Tsunade."
The slug immediately began splitting into smaller versions of itself, quickly enveloping the unconscious Konoha ninjas and carrying them away from the battlefield between Ryouma and Shukaku.
"Nice, Tsunade-nee!" Ryouma's face lit up with a smile when he saw this.
With the wounded being evacuated, his tactical options just expanded exponentially.
Tsunade was always reliable.
Finally, he could go all out.
Meanwhile, Shukaku, while sealed inside Bunpuku, had been able to observe the outside world. It knew that the person confronting it now was an enemy of Suna—the one who had defeated both Rasa and Bunpuku with terrifying efficiency.
If it were any of the other tailed beasts, they would have already gone berserk, wreaking havoc and unleashing destruction upon humans, regardless of alliances or enmities.
But Shukaku, being one of the more learned tailed beasts, decided to avoid conflict with the human before it—for now.
After all, this person was different from other humans. Just from his stance alone, it could tell that he wasn't afraid of it. There was no fear-scent, no trembling, no desperate gathering of chakra for a preemptive strike.
Moreover, during its time with Bunpuku, it had gradually come to understand that there were indeed kind-hearted humans in the world. Rare, certainly, but they existed.
Perhaps this was the message the Sage of Six Paths had intended for the tailed beasts to grasp all along—that coexistence wasn't merely possible but necessary.
Anyway, after so many years, Shukaku had finally regained its freedom. This was what it had always wanted—or thought it wanted. The path forward was entirely its own choice now.
Thus, as the slugs moved around evacuating the humans, it made no attempt to stop them. Its massive form shifted occasionally from one paw to another, but otherwise remained still.
Its large, coin-patterned eyes stared at Ryouma as it began to speak. "You human, you… uh… that…"
Oh no!Shukaku thought to itself.
Over the years, it had only spoken with Bunpuku. Now, suddenly having to talk to a stranger, it found itself at a loss for words.
How do humans even begin these exchanges? Bunpuku always started with those ridiculous tea rituals. Should I mention sand? Weather? Why is this so difficult?
Ryouma noticed something odd about Shukaku. Since breaking free from the seal, it had roared once but had otherwise remained motionless.
Even when the slugs moved about, it didn't react. Now, it seemed to be stammering, as though unsure of what to say.
Having no inherent prejudice against tailed beasts, he decided to respond. His posture remained alert but open, deliberately non-threatening.
"I don't know what you're trying to say, but it seems like you don't intend to fight, right, Shukaku?"
Hearing this, the One-Tail paused. After some thought, it realized that Ryouma's interpretation was accurate, so it nodded. Sand shifted around its neck in what might have been the tanuki equivalent of clearing its throat.
"That's right… Wait, no! How do you know my name?"
Shukaku suddenly realized something was off. It had never told any human its name except for Bunpuku—and even then, only after years of coexistence. So how did this person know?
Ryouma, understanding that Shukaku wasn't hostile, decided to leave it be. According to his memories from a previous life, this period marked the time when Shukaku was still under the influence of Bunpuku's kindness.
In the future, after Bunpuku's death, Suna would attempt to find a new jinchūriki for the One-Tail. However, due to the poor aptitude of the selected candidates, it frequently broke free, leading to repeated cycles of battles, resealing, and escapes—until it was eventually sealed inside Gaara.
During this turbulent period, the heart Shukaku had begun to open under Bunpuku's influence would close once again.
Of course, memories were just memories. For now, Ryouma was satisfied with Shukaku's response, confirming its lack of hostility. After all, while tailed beasts were regarded as natural disasters, their minds were relatively straightforward—they didn't lie.
"It's good that you don't want to fight. I'm not fond of battles either. You're free to go. I have other matters to attend to. Oh, as for your name…"
He propped his chin with his right hand, thinking for a few seconds before speaking lightly.
"I can't explain it right now. How about this: my name is Ryouma. Now you know my name too. Let's call it even."
With that, Ryouma turned to head back toward Tsunade to discuss the next steps.
Seeing him walk away, Shukaku quickly called out.
"Why aren't you afraid of me? And why would you even talk to me? Ryouma..."
Shukaku was well aware of humanity's fear and disdain toward tailed beasts. Yet, in this person who called himself Ryouma, it sensed no malice at all.
It was curious. Since gaining consciousness, only three humans had ever spoken to it peacefully: the Sage of Six Paths himself, a monk from centuries past whose name had been lost to time, and Bunpuku. What did this fourth one think of it?
Ryouma raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly. He turned back to face the massive tanuki, meeting its gaze directly.
"Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid? You're not some mindless beast. Is it strange to talk to you? Has no one ever willingly spoken to you before?"