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

Chapter 79: Chapter 79: How Old Is He?

The sun was dipping toward the west as they stepped out of the hospital.

The two of them walked down the steps, one following the other. Kurenai Yuhi rotated her right shoulder; the bandages were secure, and her movement was unrestricted.

"The toxins have been cleared," Kitahara Kaede said, glancing at her shoulder. "Change the medication on schedule. If anything feels off, come back for a check-up."

Kurenai nodded.

"Where do you live?"

"Past South Third Street."

Kaede paused. It was in the same direction as his home.

"We’re headed the same way. Let’s walk together."

There were few pedestrians on the street, and their shadows stretched long behind them. Kurenai walked half a step behind his left side, remaining silent for a while. As they approached a fork in the road, she finally spoke.

"Captain."

"Mm."

"I learned a lot from this mission." She tilted her head, her tone sincere. "And thank you for taking care of me."

Kaede gave a small smile and nodded, not saying much more.

Turning a corner, a two-story wooden house appeared at the end of the alley. The courtyard gate was half-open, and a man stood on the stone steps in front of it. He had short, black, center-parted hair and a resolute expression. His Jonin uniform was worn impeccably, and he stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Yuhi Shinku.

A Hidden Leaf Jonin and a top-tier expert in the field of genjutsu. In fact, it could be said that the foundation of the Tree Binding Death technique Kurenai now used came from him.

There wasn’t much description of him in the original story, but every detail carried weight. On the night of the Nine-Tails’ attack, he had pushed all the young ninja to the rear and charged to the front himself. Unfortunately, he had sacrificed his life in the end.

Kurenai’s pace quickened slightly. "Dad."

Yuhi Shinku’s gaze swept over the bandages on his daughter’s shoulder before shifting to Kitahara Kaede.

"And who is this?"

"Kitahara Kaede, the captain of this mission." Kurenai looked back at him. "He provided the initial treatment for my shoulder at the scene."

Yuhi Shinku looked at Kaede and spoke. "Thank you for your hard work."

"It was my duty," Kaede replied with a slight bow.

Shinku nodded and turned to push open the courtyard gate. "Would you like to come in for a meal?"

"No, thank you, Senior," Kaede said, waving his hand. "The medicine on Kurenai’s shoulder needs to be changed every three days. Please keep an eye on that."

"I will."

Kaede nodded to Kurenai. "Recover well."

"I will. See you on the next mission."

Kaede turned and walked away. Yuhi Shinku stood at the door, watching the youth’s back disappear around the corner before finally withdrawing his gaze.

"How old is he?"

"Two or three years older than me."

"A newly promoted Chunin?"

"Last month."

Shinku asked nothing more and led his daughter inside.

***

The Hokage Tower, late at night.

The office lights were still on. Hiruzen Sarutobi was still working unpaid overtime. A half-foot-high stack of documents piled up on his desk. With his pipe clenched in his mouth, he began flipping through the pile on the right.

Western Front battle summaries, northeast troop deployments, the latest movements from Sunagakure...

He stopped at the fourth document. It was a supply handover file with a page of handwritten notes attached.

The signature read: Minato Namikaze.

Hiruzen pulled the notes out and held them under the lamp.

’The escort convoy encountered a pre-set ambush in the canyon sector. The lead Chunin, Kitahara Kaede, detected the anomaly in the environment in advance and allocated combat strength effectively. Four enemies were completely annihilated, with one light injury on our side. This ninja possesses outstanding intelligence gathering and analysis skills, as well as calm and accurate battlefield judgment. I recommend he be monitored.’

Hiruzen took the pipe out of his mouth.

Minato never wasted words when writing evaluations. In all these years, the number of people who could earn a dedicated paragraph of praise from him could be counted on one hand.

First, there was a recommendation letter from Dan Kato, and now there was a personal note from Minato. Neither Dan nor Minato were people who were easily impressed.

’This kid is certainly capable,’ Hiruzen thought, ’to earn such high praise from both of them.’

Hiruzen set Minato’s note aside and flipped back to the mission report submitted by Kitahara Kaede. His gaze landed on a line of notes at the very end.

"Mission brief marked ’Confirmed Safe’; in reality, encountered an organized ambush by four Cloud Village ninja in the canyon sector."

There was no detailed analysis, only the recording of facts. However, Minato had added another line in the remarks column:

"Additionally: I suggest headquarters verify the information flow regarding the security of this escort route."

Hiruzen placed his pipe on the desk. He pulled out the intelligence authorization records for that route and flipped through them level by level.

Authorization, review, archiving, distribution. Every person who handled the document had stamped it; the process was clean.

But when he reached the department responsible for one specific link, his movements slowed.

It wasn’t the name of Root, but it was connected to Root.

Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, not moving immediately. He reviewed recent events in his mind.

The residual warmth in the chair—when he had returned to his office that day, the chair had been warm. Someone had tampered with Kitahara Kaede’s file.

On the day of the Chunin exams, Danzo—who should not have been there—had appeared. After the exams ended, Danzo had come to request the boy, but he was refused.

Immediately following that, the youth who had displayed such talent during the exams encountered an ambush that should not have happened during a B-rank mission. A route that had been signed off as "safe" happened to have an incident at the most ideal location for an ambush.

He didn’t need evidence. After all these years, he knew Danzo’s methods well enough.

If he couldn’t have you, he would first make you suffer a loss in the field. Once you returned wounded and shaken, he would reach out again, and you would be far more likely to accept.

Hiruzen’s finger lingered on the cover of the file for two seconds.

’Using such methods on a fifteen-year-old child.’

He tore off the old tag on the first page that said "To be monitored." He took a blank one from the drawer and wrote three words:

"Direct Attention."

He clipped it on and placed the file back in its original position.

***

Underground, in a room without windows.

A single oil lamp flickered.

A thin report lay spread out before Danzo, flipped to the final page.

"Mission destination: Frontline outpost in the direction of the Cloud Village. Receiving party lead: Minato Namikaze. Minato personally spoke with the target and signed an evaluation note on the target’s mission report."

Further down.

"Upon returning to the village, the target escorted the injured teammate to the Hidden Leaf hospital. During this time, Tsunade, via Nonou, invited the target to her third-floor office. The two left after being alone together."

Danzo closed the report.

’What is the deal with Tsunade?’

Danzo tapped his finger on the desk.

A fifteen-year-old civilian Chunin with no clan and no background—someone who, four months ago, was a jinx the entire village avoided. Tsunade was one of the Sannin and a direct disciple of Hiruzen. There was a gap of over a decade in age and entirely different social strata between them; they should have had absolutely nothing in common.

Why would Tsunade want to see him alone?

Danzo flipped back through the earlier pages of the report, reorganizing the timeline.

Kitahara Kaede took the injured teammate to the hospital. Nonou went downstairs to handle the patient. Then, through Nonou, Tsunade called Kitahara Kaede to her third-floor office.

It wasn’t a chance encounter; Tsunade had initiated it.

Danzo’s finger tapped a second time.

Minato’s involvement could be explained as mission coordination. But Tsunade’s could not.

For a Sannin—a core figure of Hiruzen’s faction—to actively summon a newly promoted civilian Chunin, and to do so right after the boy had entered his own field of vision...

This youth’s network of connections was far more complex than what was written in his file.

Leaking the route had been a small move, one where he had carefully measured the stakes. He knew the skill level of those four Cloud Village stragglers; they wouldn’t be lethal. His original intent was simply to let the boy suffer a loss so he would realize that the road outside was difficult.

As it turned out, it had backfired completely.

Not only did the boy avoid the "loss," but he had used the ambush to write a brilliant report that went directly to Minato’s hands. And Minato had signed his praise.

He had cast a line of his own, only to help someone else weave a net.

Danzo’s expression remained unchanged, but his hand clenched beneath the table.

Right now, there were several strings attached to the boy—Hiruzen was watching him, Minato was watching him, and Tsunade was watching him.

If these threads continued to pull in one direction, the youth would slide completely into Hiruzen’s camp.

When that happened, trying to move him would no longer be as simple as shifting a civilian Chunin.

"Continue monitoring him."

A faint response echoed from the shadows.

Danzo dimmed the oil lamp by one notch.

Silence stretched for a long time.

"Also," he added, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Recall Group B."