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

Chapter 90: Chapter 90: What Is Your Name?

Twelve people emerged from the iron gates.

A long table sat in the open clearing, with twelve Mist Village headbands lined up neatly upon it. The proctor stood behind the table.

"When I call your name, come forward and collect yours."

There were no speeches. No applause.

As each name was called, the student stepped up, took their headband, tied it on, and left.

Kitahara Kaede stood at the back, watching the people in front of him file forward one by one.

In the Hidden Leaf, when students became Genin and received their headbands, their teachers would always say a few words. They would talk about how "from this day forward, you are shinobi of the Hidden Leaf" or speak of the "Will of Fire." Classmates would congratulate each other, patting shoulders or high-fiving, some unable to stop grinning from ear to ear. Some were so excited their hands would actually shake as they tied the cloth around their foreheads.

None of that happened here.

The students ahead of him took their headbands with clinical efficiency, tying them on and leaving immediately. It was as if they were afraid to spend a single second longer in this place.

Terumi Mei was only a few spots ahead of him.

When her turn came, she stepped forward and picked up her headband from the table.

Kaede noticed that she didn’t tie it on. While everyone else bound the metal plate to their head the moment they received it, she didn’t. She simply clutched the headband in her hand, letting it hang at her side as she turned and walked away.

’Interesting.’

"Kitahara Kaede."

He stepped forward, took his headband and ID tag, and shoved them into his pocket. Then, he turned and left.

As he exited the clearing and turned into an alley, the surroundings gradually grew quiet. His mind began to race.

The events of the exam were still fresh, and he took the opportunity to organize his memories while they were clear. From the moment they entered to the moment it ended, his attention hadn’t been solely on his own group.

He had kept Terumi Mei in his peripheral vision.

Her reaction speed was fast, and her coordination was excellent. When that burly boy had charged her, she dodged all three of his punches. Her feet had barely moved; a slight adjustment of her upper body had been enough.

Yet, she hadn’t fought back.

Even after three punches, she remained passive. She had the strength to end it, but she chose not to strike.

She didn’t move until the boy who refused to kill was executed on the spot by the proctor. Only then did she act.

The speed with which she finished the fight proved that her strength was far beyond those two. She had the power to crush them from the start, yet she had been waiting.

Waiting for what?

Kaede considered several possibilities. Perhaps she was waiting for her opponent to commit fully so she could resolve the fight with minimal effort. Perhaps she was hesitating over whether to strike. Or perhaps it was simply a habit of suppressing her output to avoid exposing her true level.

All of these were plausible.

But when combined with one specific detail—the fact that she hadn’t tied on her headband—a pattern emerged. Out of the twelve graduates in their year, she was the only one who did that.

Kaede couldn’t reach a definitive conclusion yet. However, putting these two things together suggested one thing: she didn’t fully align herself with the rules of this village. At the very least, she didn’t accept them as naturally as the others did.

That was enough. As for her specific mindset, he would find out once they interacted.

Unknowingly, the path beneath his feet led him back to the riverbank from the previous night. In the hollow beneath the crooked tree, the cat was still curled up. It seemed a bit more spirited than the night before, its ears occasionally twitching.

Kaede crouched down, pulled the remaining half-piece of dry ration from his pocket, crushed it, and scattered the crumbs in front of the cat’s nose. The cat opened its eyes and leaned forward to lick them up.

He simply stayed there, crouching and watching the cat eat. He set the events of the exam aside for a moment. He didn’t think about anything; he just watched a cat eat.

A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps echoed behind him.

They were very light. The footsteps stopped a few paces behind him.

Kaede didn’t turn around. Anyone appearing here at this time was likely someone who had just left the exam site or a random passerby. But after a moment, the person didn’t leave. He could feel a gaze fixed steadily upon him.

He tilted his head slightly and glanced back.

Terumi Mei.

He hadn’t expected her. She stood a few paces away in silence, her eyes moving between him and the cat.

Kaede looked away and returned his attention to the cat. He didn’t know why she had come here. Perhaps she had simply walked this way by chance, just as he had.

The silence lasted for a while. She was the one to speak first.

"When you killed them... did you feel nothing at all?"

Her voice was slightly husky.

Kaede didn’t answer immediately. He could tell that the question wasn’t entirely for him. A person who had hesitated for so long before striking in the exam had walked to the riverbank, only to see another person who had killed just as decisively feeding a cat. She likely found the image surreal. Perhaps she found it incomprehensible.

"Did you see the boy who was executed by the proctor?"

Kaede tilted his head but didn’t stand up. Terumi Mei didn’t respond.

"He didn’t want to kill, so he died." Kaede flicked the last few crumbs onto the ground. "And then what? Now that he’s dead, will the next graduation exam be canceled because of him?"

Silence followed for two seconds.

"No," Terumi Mei answered for herself.

Kaede stood up.

"Exactly. Nothing will change. Next time, thirty-odd people will go in, and ten-odd will come out."

"His kindness led to his death."

Terumi Mei remained silent, but Kaede noticed a shift in the rhythm of her breathing.

He turned around, facing her directly for the first time. Her bangs covered her right eye, leaving only her left eye visible—a vivid green, filled with complex emotions.

"But what if he had survived?"

Terumi Mei’s expression flickered.

"If he were strong enough—strong enough that one day he could sit in the position of those who make the rules..."

Kaede paused.

"...then he could abolish this exam with his own two hands."

Terumi Mei didn’t move. She looked as though she had been frozen in place.

Kaede observed her reaction. Judging by her expression, those words had struck a chord. He wasn’t sure exactly what he had hit, but he knew he hadn’t missed.

That was enough. It wasn’t wise to say too much during a first meeting.

He shifted his gaze and stepped past her. He had walked seven or eight paces before her voice called out from behind him.

"What is your name?"

"Kitahara Kaede."

He didn’t look back. His voice drifted through the mist, clear and distinct.

***

Terumi Mei stood rooted to the spot. She watched as the silhouette of the man was slowly swallowed by the mist.

’Kitahara Kaede.’

She repeated the name in her mind.

Today at the exam, he had struck without a hint of hesitation. And then, he had come here to feed a cat. Between killing and kindness, it seemed he didn’t even need a transition.

She couldn’t quite describe how she felt. But the words he had just spoken...

*Strong enough that one day he could sit in the position of those who make the rules, then he could abolish this exam with his own two hands.*

She had harbored that same thought long ago. She had just never taken it seriously because it was too grand—so grand it felt like a joke.

But when that man said it, he didn’t sound like he was joking. Nor did he sound like he was trying to encourage or incite her.

Terumi Mei looked down at the headband clutched in her hand. Her own blurred reflection stared back from the metal surface.

She lifted the headband and tied it firmly around her forehead.