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

Chapter 96: Chapter 96: Will You Live to See That Day?

Morning.

Kitahara Kaede crouched beneath a crooked tree, fitting several wooden planks together.

The boards were uneven, but after a few precise cuts with a kunai, he managed to slot them into place. He layered dry grass at the bottom and propped a slanted board on top to shield the space from the rain.

It was incredibly crude, but it was still better than huddling under bare tree roots.

A cat padded over, rubbing its head against his calf. It had grown noticeably plumper since he first saw it; its ribs were no longer protruding.

Kaede poured some dry food from his pocket beside the nest, and the cat immediately began to eat. He remained crouched and still, his gaze drifting to the muddy ground nearby.

A few small fish bones, licked perfectly clean, were scattered by the roots. He only ever brought dry kibble; he had never brought fish.

Kaede left the bones untouched. He finished setting up his things, stood up, and brushed off his hands.

She had been coming here too, and frequently.

The cat ate contentedly, its tail sweeping slowly across the ground. Once it finished the last bite, it curled into the new nest, circled once, and settled into a comfortable position.

The sound of footsteps approached.

Terumi Mei walked over, carrying something in her hand. She stopped by the cat nest and knelt, neatly arranging several small strips of torn fish meat.

The cat poked its head out of the nest, sniffed the fish, and then retreated. It was clearly full.

Mei glanced at the cat and left the fish at the entrance of the nest.

"I’ve thought it through," she said.

Kaede stood still, looking down at her.

Mei didn’t stand up. She remained kneeling, looking up at him, one eye visible beneath her bangs, staring intently into his.

"I want to become strong. Not just to survive." She paused. "The approach of this village is wrong. The graduation exam is wrong. Assassinating your own teammates is wrong. Everyone lives in fear, constantly guarding against one another."

Her voice was a low whisper. In the Mist Village, speaking such words was practically the same as being a missing-nin.

"Someone has to change it. And if no one else will—" She stood up. "Then I will."

Kaede looked at her in silence. For a few seconds, the only sound was the cat shifting in its nest with a soft huff.

"Fine," Kaede replied.

Mei’s shoulders flickered.

"But I have one condition," Kaede added, his tone unchanged. "No matter what happens in the future, even if you discover this world is completely different from what you imagined... even if there comes a day when everyone you trust betrays you, and everything you fought desperately to protect shatters..."

He paused.

"You cannot change this resolve. Keep moving forward, until the day you rewrite the rules with your own hands."

Mei stared at him.

What did he mean, ’everyone you trust betrays you’? What did he mean, ’everything you fought to protect shatters’?

She opened her mouth to ask, but his expression gave her nothing. He simply watched her calmly, waiting for her answer.

"I promise," she said.

Kaede nodded. "This afternoon. The training ground on the north side of the village."

***

That afternoon.

At the northern edge of the Hidden Mist lay a training ground that had been abandoned for a long time. After the Third Mizukage took office, new facilities were built closer to the village center, leaving this place forgotten.

Weeds pushed through the cracks in the rubble, and training posts stood crookedly in the mud.

When Terumi Mei arrived, Kitahara Kaede was leaning against a dead old locust tree, a small pile of pebbles at his feet. He tilted his chin, pointing toward the tallest tree at the edge of the field.

"Climb it."

Mei looked up. The tree was roughly seven or eight meters tall, its bark slick and covered in moss.

"Chakra tree climbing?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. "I’ve practiced that on my own."

Kaede didn’t explain. He bent down and picked up a pebble.

"Go up."

Mei didn’t ask further. She stepped to the tree, concentrating chakra into the soles of her feet. Each step was steady.

Four meters. Five meters.

It was easy. She even had the mental bandwidth to wonder what exactly he wanted her to practice.

Suddenly, a whistle of wind whipped past her ankle.

A pebble.

Mei’s body jerked violently. She managed to dodge it, but her concentration snapped for a split second. The chakra beneath her feet dissipated.

She fell straight down.

She flipped in mid-air and landed steadily on one knee, then looked up.

Kaede still held a pebble in his hand, giving his wrist a light flick.

Mei stared at his hand. She understood.

This wasn’t just about climbing a tree; it was about maintaining chakra stability under interference.

"Again."

She stood up and stepped onto the trunk once more. This time, she was on guard.

At four meters, a pebble flew up from directly below. She gritted her teeth and ignored it, shifting her body slightly to dodge.

At six meters, two pebbles flew simultaneously, one from the left and one from the right. She dodged the left one, but the right one grazed the outside of her calf.

A voice in her head screamed "dodge," but her rhythm was broken, and the adhesion at the soles of her feet collapsed instantly.

Fall.

Climb.

Fall.

Climb again.

The frequency of the pebbles increased, and the angles became more erratic. Some bounced upward, while others curved around the trunk from the opposite side.

Every single pebble was timed to hit her at her most vulnerable moment—either when she was shifting her chakra to a new point or in the gap between steps.

On her ninth attempt, she finally touched the lowest branch of the canopy. The moment her fingertips brushed a leaf, a pebble struck her instep with precision.

She had lost count of how many times she had fallen. But each time, she climbed a little higher than the last.

He didn’t offer a single word of praise. No "not bad," no "you’ve improved." Every time she fell, the only thing waiting for her was a cold "again."

Interspersed with the climbing was taijutsu sparring.

Mei charged in and was taken down.

She charged again, and was taken down again.

"When you throw a sequence of punches, the third one is always a right straight. After two rounds, an opponent will just wait to counter it."

She changed her combination and charged again. This time, her knee was struck, sending her sprawling forward.

"Your center of gravity is too high when you rotate your hips."

The Mist Village did not lack training. Taijutsu, ninjutsu, and chakra control were all taught. However, at the Academy, instructors simply demonstrated a move once, and the students were left to figure out the rest.

If you did it right, you continued; if you did it wrong, no one cared. With thirty students standing before them, no instructor would spend their time staring at a single person’s movements over and over.

Those who could comprehend the logic moved up; those who couldn’t were weeded out.

He was different.

He had watched her for the entire afternoon. He watched every punch she threw, and when she finished, he told her exactly where she had gone wrong.

***

Evening.

Terumi Mei sat on the ground, unable to get up.

From the afternoon until now, her chakra had been drained dry, her legs were weak, and her arms trembled too much to lift. Sweat poured from her forehead, dripping one by one onto the gravel.

She wanted to wipe her face, but her hand stopped halfway and dropped. She had no strength left.

Closing her eyes, she let herself collapse onto the ground.

Something was placed beside her.

Mei opened her eyes. Kitahara Kaede had already walked away, standing at the edge of the training ground with his back to her, looking at something in the distance.

She turned her head. A water bottle sat within arm’s reach.

Mei extended a trembling hand and gripped the bottle. She took a drink. The water surged down her throat, sending a jolt through her system.

During the training, he hadn’t said a single kind word to her, but once it was over, he provided the water.

The corner of Mei’s mouth curled upward slightly.

***

Night fell.

The two of them walked slowly back.

The night fog grew thicker, leaving everything beyond the reach of the streetlights a blank, white void.

At the fork in the road, Kitahara Kaede turned left, and Terumi Mei turned right.

"Same time tomorrow," Kaede said simply, disappearing into the left-hand alley.

Terumi Mei remained where she stood.

The sound of his footsteps grew fainter and fainter against the stone pavement. Suddenly, she spoke.

"What about you?"

The footsteps didn’t stop.

Mei tightened her grip on the water bottle in her hand.

’Will you survive until that day?’

Deep in the alley, the footsteps turned a corner and vanished. There was no answer.

Terumi Mei stood at the crossroads, staring at the empty alley for a long time, motionless. The wind lifted her bangs and let them fall again. She lowered her eyes, looking at the water bottle in her hand.

***