Chapter 59: Chapter 59: The One Who Shouldn’t Be Alive
The western border of the Land of Fire, at a military outpost.
Kitahara Kaede walked into the registration tent with his gear slung over his shoulder and took his place at the end of the line. There were three people ahead of him.
He cast a casual glance at the man sitting behind the registration desk, and his gaze paused.
A familiar face.
Square jaw, bushy beard.
It was that Special Jonin from last time—the one who, upon returning from three missions, had slammed his hand on the desk and roared, "Kitahara, were you born to be a jinx to your teammates?"
Kaede looked away, his expression remaining neutral. He didn’t hold a grudge against the man. After all, putting himself in the other man’s shoes, if he had a subordinate who returned unscathed every single time while the rest of the team was wiped out, he would find it unsettling too.
"Next."
The person in front of him collected their military tag and hurried away. It was Kaede’s turn.
He stepped forward and handed over his transfer orders. Without looking up, the bearded Jonin took the documents and flipped them open with professional indifference.
"Name."
"Kitahara Kaede."
The hand flipping through the papers stopped. The bearded Jonin looked up, and once he saw who was standing before him, he froze for a heartbeat.
He looked back down, and the speed at which he flipped through the documents increased significantly; he barely even glanced at them. The official stamp slammed down, and the registration for the military tag was completed in one fluid motion. A process that usually took at least five minutes was finished in less than one.
The military tag was pushed to the furthest edge of the table—just as far as the bag of payment had been pushed last time.
"Take it and go."
Kaede didn’t say a word. He reached out, grabbed the tag, and turned to leave. Just then, the tent flap was lifted from the outside.
A slender figure stepped inside. The newcomer wore the standard deep-green Hidden Leaf Jonin vest, and his long, azure hair was casually swept back with a hand. He looked young, possessing a gentle aura.
The bearded Jonin stood up and saluted. "Lord Dan, the new batch of reinforcements has arrived. Please give your instructions."
The man took the roster, flipped through a few pages, and spoke in a calm tone. "Thank you for your hard work. Assign them according to the standard organizational structure for now. Once the assignments are complete, send the final list to me for review."
"Yes, sir!"
Dan Kato handed the roster back and, without lingering, turned and walked out of the tent. The curtain fell behind him.
Blending in with the other new recruits, Kaede walked out of the tent with his head down, his face devoid of emotion.
’Dan Kato.’
The name exploded in his mind.
In the original story, this man died around the end of the Second Great Ninja War. He died in front of Tsunade, his internal organs ruptured and bleeding uncontrollably; even Tsunade’s medical ninjutsu couldn’t bring him back.
It was because of his death that Tsunade developed a severe phobia of blood, lost all hope, and left the Hidden Leaf to become the "legendary sucker" who drowned her sorrows in alcohol. Nawaki’s death had been the first domino to fall in Tsunade’s life, but Dan Kato’s death was the second, the one that completely crushed her.
This was a plot point he absolutely could not have misremembered.
But this was the year 47 of the Hidden Leaf, and the Third Great Ninja War had already erupted in full force. Yet the man who should have been dust years ago had just stood before him in perfect health. He had even become the supreme commander of this border camp!
Kaede walked into the shadows of the camp area and leaned against a wooden post for a moment, his mind racing.
For fifteen years, he had lingered at the absolute bottom of the Hidden Leaf’s hierarchy; he hadn’t even come close to the upper echelons. The daily trajectory of a disposable Genin could not possibly have created a butterfly effect strong enough to change whether Dan Kato lived or died.
If it wasn’t a natural butterfly effect, then only one possibility remained—the simulator.
The system’s rules hadn’t explicitly stated that actions within the simulations would affect reality. However, it also hadn’t said they wouldn’t.
’If the causality within the simulator can truly project onto reality...’
Kaede forcibly suppressed the agitation in his heart. The thought was too wild. Without concrete evidence, it was all mere speculation. Furthermore, now was not the time to delve deep into shifts in the world line.
He drew a red line in his mind.
Dan Kato was the supreme commander of this camp. He would not initiate contact, would not expose any anomalies, and would treat him as a complete stranger of a superior.
The only thing he needed to think about right now was the five million Ryo.
The jobs assigned to a Genin were likely routine patrols and garrison duty, paying a fixed low salary. He had to find a way to carve out an opportunity for high rewards within that framework.
Regaining his composure, Kaede turned and walked toward the new recruit barracks.
***
On the same day, in the Hidden Leaf Village.
Tsunade stood before the door of Kitahara Kaede’s apartment. Before coming, she had set a rule for herself: take one look; if it doesn’t feel right, turn around and leave.
She knocked three times. "Kitahara Kaede, are you in?"
Tsunade frowned and knocked three more times with more force, but there was still no response. She leaned against the wall by the door, crossing her arms as she waited for a while.
She didn’t even know why she was being so stubborn. To come and knock on the door of a Genin she had never met, all for the sake of a dream... it sounded absurd.
The person never showed.
Tsunade straightened up and walked next door to knock. A middle-aged woman opened the door, carrying a vegetable basket as if she were heading out to shop. She froze when she saw Tsunade.
"Lady Tsunade? Is something the matter?"
"Is the person living next door not home?"
"You mean Kitahara?"
"Yes."
The woman thought for a moment. "I heard some noise next door early this morning. These days, if someone leaves before dawn, they’ve most likely been deployed to the front lines."
"Thanks."
The woman carried her basket out the door, her footsteps fading down the corridor.
Tsunade stood still, staring at Kaede’s closed door. She couldn’t quite describe how she felt. It wasn’t disappointment—she had never even met the man, so disappointment wasn’t the right word. But her chest did feel a sudden tightness.
Tsunade turned and walked downstairs. Along the way, her right hand unconsciously moved toward her neck. Her fingertips touched her necklace—the one left behind by the First Hokage.
Her fingers stopped.
It was something she wore every day, yet touching it now gave her a strange feeling, as if this wasn’t supposed to be the necklace she wore.
Tsunade frowned and lowered her hand. She had only ever had this one necklace around her neck. Why was she feeling this way?
’That dream is playing tricks on me again.’
Tsunade’s expression darkened as she quickened her pace toward the hospital. As she entered the hospital gates, she ran into a nurse on duty.
"Lady Tsunade, your appointment this afternoon—"
"Have there been any wounded soldiers evacuated from the Western Front back to the village recently?"
The nurse checked the records. "None so far. The fighting is quite fierce over there; probably in a few—"
"The moment they are brought back, notify me immediately."
The nurse opened her mouth to speak but swallowed her words. Without waiting for an answer, Tsunade pushed open her office door and walked inside.
After the door closed, the nurse stood in the corridor, stunned for several seconds.
Since when did Lady Tsunade start caring about the evacuation lists from the Western Front?
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