Naruto: We Agreed on a Simulation, But They Actually Came to Life?

The Hospital.

Kitahara Kaede lay on the hospital bed, his expression blank.

All he had wanted was for the medical team to patch up the wound on his hand and perhaps double-check his ribs. Instead, Tsunade had followed him right into the clinic and told the medical ninja on duty, in a tone that brooked no argument: "A full physical. Including the ribs."

The medical ninja looked at her, then at Kaede.

Kaede shook his head slightly.

It was useless.

Tsunade had already pinned him down on the examination table.

And so, it was a head-to-toe overhaul.

X-rays of the ribs, cleaning the puncture wound on his hand, a chakra pathway scan—nothing was missed. Kaede felt like a turtle flipped onto its back, lying there splayed out and completely devoid of dignity.

The verdict: a contusion and fracture of the sixth left rib, a puncture wound in the right hand requiring observation, and chakra exhaustion. Recommended treatment: complete bed rest.

"Stay for two days," the medical ninja said, closing the chart after finishing the medical record.

Kaede sat up. "I don’t need—"

"Stay for two days."

The voice didn’t come from the medical ninja, but from Tsunade, who was standing at the foot of the bed. Her tone was identical to the doctor’s orders.

In fact, it was even less negotiable. You could sign a waiver to refuse a doctor’s orders; you couldn’t refuse Tsunade.

The medical ninja tactfully exited the room.

Silence settled over the ward, punctuated only by the muffled sound of footsteps and distant chatter in the hallway. Tsunade pulled over a stool and sat down, making it clear she had no intention of leaving.

Kaede closed his eyes.

Inside his mind, the system notification chimed.

[Side Quest: Save the Beauty — Settlement Complete.]

[Evaluation: S (Perfect).]

[Target’s emotional fluctuation peak exceeded the upper threshold. Your existence has been deeply etched into the target’s core memory region. This performance has been judged as: Irreplaceable.]

[Issuing rewards...]

[Reward obtained: Ninjutsu Release Effect Enhancement +5%.]

[Note: This bonus is a permanent passive effect and is stackable. It applies to all ninjutsu released by the host, including but not limited to: power, range, duration, and nature transformation precision.]

Kaede’s eyelids flickered.

Plus five percent.

At first glance, it seemed insignificant. But Kaede wasn’t someone who looked only at the surface.

With this bonus, if a normal ninja fired a Great Fireball Technique and dealt C-rank damage, Kaede would deal C-rank multiplied by 1.05. As his base abilities grew stronger in the future, this bonus would scale accordingly.

A C-rank jutsu could produce B-rank effects; a B-rank jutsu could hit with A-rank power.

This reward wasn’t for the present; it was for the future. It was the kind of power that would become terrifying in the late game.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Kaede’s mouth.

"What are you smiling about?" Tsunade’s voice drifted over from beside him.

Kaede opened his eyes and realized his lips were indeed curled up. "Just thinking about something happy."

"There’s a hole through your hand, and you’re thinking about something *happy*?"

"It’s a secret."

Tsunade stared at him for a moment, huffed, and didn’t press further. She rose from the stool, walked to the right side of the bed, and reached out to take his bandaged right hand.

"Let me see."

"The medical ninja just looked at it—"

"He looked for his reasons; I’m looking for mine."

As she spoke, she began to unwind the bandages. Her movements were slower than the medical ninja’s, but her control was precise. Even at seven years old, without having studied medical ninjutsu, her touch was more refined than that of many adults.

Kaede remained silent, letting her examine the wound. A thin scab had formed, surrounded by a sea of purple and blue bruising. Tsunade inspected it from several angles before winding the bandages back in place.

Once finished, she didn’t let go.

"I want to learn medical ninjutsu."

Kaede turned his head to look at her. Tsunade didn’t look back; her gaze was fixed on the knot she was tying.

"Next time you’re hurt, I want to be able to handle it myself. I won’t have to wait for the medical team."

Her voice was soft, sounding like words she had been bottling up for a long time, finally finding a way out.

Kaede watched her lowered eyelashes. He knew this wasn’t a lingering effect of fear—Tsunade wasn’t the type of person to be easily frightened.

It was a sense of helplessness.

Standing five meters away, unable to do a single thing, watching someone else take a blade for her. That feeling was far more painful than the blade itself.

"Then learn it."

Tsunade looked up and glared at him. "Can’t you say something a bit nicer?"

"You learn everything faster than anyone else. Medical ninjutsu will be no exception."

Tsunade’s fingers paused. She didn’t respond. She lowered her head and tightened the final loop of the bandage, applying slightly more pressure than before.

Kaede hissed.

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Then I’ll tighten it more."

"...It hurts."

The corner of Tsunade’s mouth curved up for a split second before she pressed it back into a straight line. Once the knot was secure, she sat back down on the stool.

Sunlight streamed diagonally through the window, casting a rectangular patch of light across the bedsheets where dust motes danced slowly in the beam. Tsunade leaned against the wall and sat in silence for a long time.

It may have only been two or three minutes, but in a ward where the only sound was the rhythm of breathing, it felt like an eternity.

"When you pushed me..." her voice was flat. "I thought you were going to die."

Kaede turned to face her. Tsunade was staring out the window, her profile split into light and shadow by the sun. Her expression was vacant, as if she were talking about someone else, but the hand resting on her knee was gripping the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles whitening as she tightened her hold.

Kaede’s lips parted. "I won’t—"

He stopped. He suddenly remembered something.

The version of him in the simulator would, eventually, have to die. He would die in the most devoted, most tragic way possible.

The greater the pain, the higher the evaluation. The more unforgettable the end, the more generous the rewards.

The ending had already been written. This body, this name, and this relationship that began with dice and candy—it would all conclude with a meticulously designed death. The simulator would calculate the evaluation, issue the rewards, and everything would reset to zero.

He would then take those rewards back to reality and continue to survive in the shadows.

That was the rule. He had known it before he entered.

But...

He looked at Tsunade’s clenched fingers and her profile, which she refused to turn away from him. Kaede swallowed the words he had been about to say.

The room fell silent for three seconds.

"Do you have any more candy?"

Tsunade blinked, stunned. She turned to look at him, the emotion in her eyes retreating, replaced by a look that clearly said, *’Are you out of your mind?’*

Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of candy.

Peach flavored.

She didn’t give it to him directly, but placed it on the small bedside table, sliding it within his reach.

"The very last one."

Kaede picked it up. His bandaged right hand lacked strength, so he had to use his teeth to tear open the wrapper before popping it into his mouth.

Seeing him enjoy the candy, Tsunade stood up.

"I’ll come back tomorrow to change the dressing."

"The doctor will—"

"I’ll do it."

She walked to the door and paused, her hand resting on the frame. She didn’t look back.

"You’re right. I do learn everything fast."