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

Chapter 116: Chapter 116: Making a Little Extra

The Hidden Mist Village was quiet in the early morning.

As Kitahara Kaede walked down the street, he noticed that the bulletin board near the mission office had been updated with new notices.

The village had been under lockdown for a significant amount of time after Zabuza’s defection; the restrictions had only been lifted recently. Traces of old wanted posters still clung to the corners of the wall, now partially covered by new mission announcements that left the paper wrinkled and haphazard.

There weren’t many shinobi on the roads.

During the lockdown, the village had used the excuse of "purging internal moles" to turn the ANBU, the mission chain, and the border outposts upside down. Anyone with an ambiguous attitude, delayed reports, or private ties to Zabuza had been hauled in for interrogation.

A few of them had yet to return.

It had nothing to do with him.

He was clean.

His connection to Sunagakure had been severed completely the day Pakura vanished. To the world, he was nothing more than an obedient, law-abiding Chunin of the village. No matter how deeply they dug, they would never find a trail leading back to him.

Kaede’s pace slowed.

Images from a few days ago surfaced in his mind.

Once the lockdown was lifted, he had used a mission as a cover to meet with Pakura in a remote fishing village within the Land of Water.

When they reunited, Pakura wasn’t wearing her standard Sunagakure attire. She had changed into a deep grey, high-collared short-sleeved top. It lacked the murderous edge of her previous clothing, though the cut remained sharp and practical. Her dark green hair was tied into a high bun, with her orange bangs framing her face just as they always had.

The courtyard where she stayed was small, but she had a puppy. It was a yellow-furred thing with floppy ears that loved to rub against people’s legs.

Pakura leaned over to pour water for the dog, not looking up.

"A village kid picked it up and insisted on shoving it on me," she said. "Claimed his family couldn’t keep it and asked if I could help for a couple of days."

Those "two days" had already turned into half a month.

Kaede glanced over and noticed the dog bowl was brand new. There was even a small wooden rain shelter rigged up in the corner of the yard—clearly something she had built herself.

He crouched down and patted the dog’s head. The puppy immediately flopped onto its back, paws in the air, nuzzling into his palm.

Pakura straightened up after finishing with the water and looked at him.

"You know," she said, her tone relaxed, "my biggest worry right now is that this dog is too clingy. It wants to follow me everywhere; if I don’t take it, it just howls in the yard."

Kaede didn’t answer. He studied her face. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes remained, but the dark circles beneath them had faded significantly. In the past, every time they met, her shoulders were always slightly tense, as if she were ready to strike or retreat at a moment’s notice.

That tension was gone. She looked far better.

Pakura wiped her hands. "I actually quite like this kind of life."

"No worrying about how to complete a mission, no constant vigilance about who’s watching. I wake up, feed the dog, go buy some groceries, and spend the afternoon daydreaming." She paused. "When will you be finished with your side of things?"

She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "How about we find a place to retire together in the future?"

Kaede thought about her smile for a moment. "I still have a bit left to do."

Pakura didn’t press him. She looked down at the dog at her feet, then back up at him.

"Then when you’re done, come with me. Let’s not stay in the Land of Water."

"It’s too humid here. Clothes never dry properly, and this little guy comes back covered in mud every time he goes outside."

Kaede nodded. "We’ll go somewhere with a drier climate."

Pakura smiled.

...

Kaede snapped back to the present. Without realizing it, he had already arrived at Terumi Mei’s residence.

He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Silence followed for two seconds before a muffled response came from inside.

"Who is it?"

Her voice was husky, thick with the sleepiness of someone who had just woken up.

"It’s me."

The lock clicked, and the door swung open.

Terumi Mei stood behind the door. Her reddish-brown hair was loose and unbundled, with her bangs covering her right eye as usual. She was wearing a wide, oversized lounge robe; the collar draped loosely near her collarbone, and the hem barely reached mid-thigh, leaving her long, bare legs exposed.

The moment she saw it was Kaede, her fingers tightened against the doorframe. She reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead, stepped back half a pace, and opened the door wider.

"Why so early?"

Her voice sounded casual, but her posture shifted subtly from a lazy lean against the frame to a centered, upright stance.

Kaede gave her a brief glance, his gaze not lingering. "Habit."

Terumi Mei stepped aside to let him in. Kaede removed his shoes and entered. The house was small; the living room contained only a low table and a bookshelf against the wall.

"Have you eaten?" Terumi Mei’s voice came from behind him.

"Not yet."

A beat of silence passed.

"Then sit down. I’ll make an extra portion of breakfast."

With that, she headed toward the kitchen, her footsteps a fraction faster than usual.

Kaede sat at the dining table, listening to the sound of cabinet doors opening in the kitchen. Terumi Mei stood at the stove, holding an egg. Her original plan for breakfast had been to chew on a piece of leftover bread from yesterday.

But he was here. Letting him chew on plain bread felt... somehow wrong.

*Stir-frying shouldn’t be that hard, right?*

A while later, Terumi Mei stared at the charred edges of the food in the pan, her expression turning solemn. She cranked up the heat and tossed the ingredients, attempting to hide the burnt side.

The smell of scorching food began to waft out of the kitchen.

Footsteps approached. Kaede appeared at the kitchen entrance, leaning against the doorframe as he glanced at the contents of the pan.

"Want me to take over?"

Terumi Mei’s back stiffened. She didn’t move out of the way immediately, but another plume of smoke rose from the pan.

She handed over the spatula and stepped aside. "...Go ahead."

Her voice was very low. It was simply too embarrassing for him to have seen that.

Kaede took the spatula, scraped out the burnt remains, washed the pan, and started the fire again. "What ingredients do you have?"

Terumi Mei opened the fridge. "Eggs, greens, sliced meat. That’s it."

Kaede took a look. "Any noodles?"

Terumi Mei rummaged through the cabinet and found some in the corner, handing them to him. Kaede set them aside and began washing the vegetables and slicing the meat.

The greens were rinsed twice under the tap and drained; the meat was sliced thin against the grain, each piece almost identical in width.

Terumi Mei leaned against the kitchen wall, arms crossed, watching him. The way he chopped vegetables was like the way he fought. No wasted movement.

He heated the oil, tossed in the meat for a few seconds until the color changed, then added the greens for a quick stir-fry. Once the water boiled, the noodles went in.

The entire process took less than ten minutes.

Terumi Mei watched his profile.

Strong. Intelligent. Reliable. Handsome. And he could cook.

She shifted her gaze, staring instead at the boiling noodles. Why was her heart beating faster?

Out of the corner of his eye, Kaede caught the moment she looked away. He recalled that in the original story, Terumi Mei had mentioned she liked men with high aesthetic appeal.

The move to maximize his looks had not been in vain.

Two bowls of noodles were placed on the table. Kaede pushed one toward Terumi Mei.

"Try it."

Terumi Mei picked up her chopsticks and took a bite. Her eyes lit up. The broth was savory, the meat tender, and the greens crisp. It was leagues better than anything she could make.

She suppressed her reaction, keeping her tone plain. "I didn’t expect you to be such a good cook."

Kaede picked up a slice of meat. "I’m glad you like it."

Terumi Mei lowered her head and took a large mouthful of noodles without responding. She ate faster than usual, even drinking several gulps of the broth.

It wasn’t until she set her bowl down that she realized she had finished everything, while Kitahara Kaede had barely touched half of his.

A slight flush warmed her ears.

"...I need to build up my strength before a mission," she murmured.

Kitahara Kaede paused with his chopsticks mid-air and looked up at her.

"Mm. Good excuse."

Terumi Mei shot him a glare, appearing slightly miffed by his response.

Once they finished eating, they checked the time. Terumi Mei stood up and headed toward the bedroom.

"I’m going to change. Wait here."

The door clicked shut.

Kitahara Kaede’s gaze drifted to the low table, where several sheets of draft paper lay scattered, covered in dense handwriting. He scanned them; they were all notes regarding issues within the village.

He looked away. She had already begun organizing the village’s affairs on her own.

The bedroom door opened and Terumi Mei stepped out. She wore a dark, off-the-shoulder top, her long hair tied back, with her forehead protector firmly in place.

Kitahara Kaede took a look at her. She seemed like a completely different person from the woman who had opened the door earlier—the one with messy hair and bare legs, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

She walked over to the door, grabbed her shinobi tool pouch and strapped it to her thigh, then turned to him.

"Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Senior Ao waiting."

They left the apartment, Terumi Mei walking half a step ahead of him. The morning light filtered through the gaps in the mist, resting softly on her shoulders.

After walking for a while, she spoke. "Let me know before you visit next time."

She paused for a beat.

"I’ll prepare some food."

Kitahara Kaede glanced at her. "Are you sure about that?"

Terumi Mei faltered for a moment. An image of a charred, sticky mess in a pot flashed through her mind.

"...I can learn."

Kitahara Kaede didn’t say anything more, but the corner of his mouth quirked upward. Side by side, they made their way toward the village gates.