Naruto: We Agreed on a Simulation, But They Actually Came to Life? Chapter 36 36: Sister, where did you come from?

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the window fra.

Tsunade rolled over, burying her face in the duvet with a muffled groan. Her body felt heavy and loose, her limbs as soft as if they had no bones. She had slept deeply—far too deeply.

The thought made her frown. When she worked night shifts at the hospital, she could keep her eyes wide open until dawn; at her own ho, she would toss and turn for over an hour before drifting off. Yet, on this particular bed, the mont her head hit the pillow, she had blacked out.

Tsunade slowly sat up. Her hair was a tangled ss, her mouth tasted bitter, and she slled strongly of alcohol. Looking down, she saw she was still wearing yesterday's clothes, wrinkled and clinging to her skin.

She had drunk too much again.

Rubbing her temples, she tried to piece together the events of the previous night. Cooking, drinking, talking about Nawaki, and then more drinking.

And then—

"Will you do that for every day from now on?"

"...Okay."

Her fingers froze against her temples. She had said it. She had actually let that word slip from her lips.

Tsunade yanked the duvet over her head, muffling a curse that even she couldn't quite hear. After a long while, she finally threw back the covers, let out a long sigh, and stepped onto the floor with bare feet.

A thin blanket was neatly folded on the living room sofa; the occupant was gone. However, the scent of food wafted from the kitchen.

Tsunade walked over. On the table sat a prepared breakfast: white congee, pickled vegetables, a plate of fried eggs, and a pot of warm tea. A small note was tucked under the teacup.

She pulled it out. The ssage was brief:

"You said yes, so I'm taking you seriously."

Tsunade stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, clutching the paper. A flush started at the tips of her ears and surged down to her neck. She flipped the note over—nothing on the back. She flipped it back to the front, staring at the words for several seconds.

Biting her lip, she folded the note once, then again, and stuffed it into her pocket. Her movents were as furtive as a thief's.

She sat down to eat. The congee and eggs were well-made. Once she had finished every last bite, she washed the dishes and placed them back in their proper spots. As she dried her hands, her gaze flickered toward the table one last ti.

The note was already in her pocket.

Tsunade slipped on her high-heeled sandals, tidied her hair with a quick brush of her hand, and took a deep breath to flatten her expression. She pulled open the door.

A young man was standing there. Nawaki still had one hand raised in the middle of a knock, his mouth half-open, caught in the middle of a sentence.

"Sensei, have you seen my sis—"

His voice cut off. He blinked a few tis, finally registering who was standing in the doorway.

"...Sis?"

Silence fell for a second. Nawaki's gaze traveled down her face. Yesterday's clothes, wrinkled; hair loose; the scent of alcohol still lingering. And behind her was the entryway to Kitahara Kaede's ho.

Slowly, a grin spread across his face. It wasn't a look of surprise, but a "now I get it" sort of smile—the kind that was excruciatingly punchable.

"Ohhh," Nawaki drawled, crossing his arms and leaning back. "Sis, last night you—"

*Thwack!*

A knuckle-rap landed on his head, fast and precise. Nawaki crouched down, clutching his head with a howl.

"Shut up."

"I didn't even—"

"You don't need to finish."

Nawaki rubbed his forehead, looking up from his crouch. Far from disappearing, his smile only grew more radiant.

"Fine, I won't say it. Just one question."

"No questions."

"One! Just one!"

"Try ."

Nawaki's lips twitched. Tsunade raised her hand. Nawaki recoiled instantly, shielding his forehead with both palms and stepping back half a pace.

"I'm not asking! I'm not!"

Though he surrendered verbally, his eyes were darting mischievously between Tsunade and the door behind her, his face practically screaming his thoughts.

Tsunade took a deep breath. "Why aren't you staying at ho this early in the morning? What are you doing here?"

Nawaki replied with complete confidence, "I woke up and realized you weren't ho, so naturally, I ca to ask Sensei—" He paused, that grin returning. "And you actually were here."

Tsunade's fist clenched.

"I left sothing here yesterday and ca to get it."

"What thing?"

"None of your business."

Nawaki scanned her, looking down at her empty hands. "Sis, you're coming out empty-handed."

Tsunade stepped forward. Nawaki bolted, but as he ran, he didn't forget to shout back over his shoulder.

"I support you two! Sis, you've got great taste—"

*Whoosh!*

A sandal flew past the back of his head and embedded itself with a *thud* into the wall. Nawaki winced, but he couldn't help himself; he added one last shout.

"Sensei! Why is my sister coming out of your house!"

He yelled loud enough for half the alley to hear. Tsunade stood in the doorway, one foot bare, her chest heaving. The two of them faced off from three ters apart.

Just then, footsteps echoed from the entrance of the alley. Kitahara Kaede turned the corner, carrying a bag of groceries.

He took in the entire scene at a glance: Tsunade standing at his door with one bare foot, her other sandal pinned to a wall three ters away, and Nawaki crouching in the distance, hands over his head with an expression that said, *I might still be salvageable.*

Kaede stopped. "What happened?"

Nawaki's eyes lit up, his mouth opening to speak—but Tsunade lunged forward, grabbed him by the back of his collar, and began dragging him out of the alley.

"We're leaving."

"Sis, why are you dragging —Sensei! Sensei, help!"

"Stop yelling."

"You're choking !"

Without looking back, Tsunade hauled him away. As she passed Kitahara Kaede, she paused for a fraction of a second. She didn't look at him. Then, she was gone.

Kaede stood still. He watched as Tsunade marched away, dragging Nawaki, whose heels left two distinct streaks in the dirt as he continued to protest. After a few seconds, Kaede looked down and chuckled.

He stepped inside. The dishes on the kitchen table had been washed clean and put back in their place. The teacup was still there.

The note was gone.

***

And so, life went on.

The frequency of Tsunade's visits to Kitahara Kaede's place to cook shifted from occasional to daily. The sequence of entering the house, removing her clogs, tying her apron, and prepping the cutting board beca a seamless flow. She knew where the seasonings on the stove were better than Kaede himself.

Ever since the morning he "caught" them, Nawaki had beco a permanent fixture in the house. His excuse was noble: "Sis, is there really a difference between cooking for two people and cooking for three?"

Under the guise of freeloading on als, he was actually there to act as a professional third wheel.

Tsunade handled the cooking, Kaede assisted with the chopping and prep, and Nawaki was responsible for the dishes and whatever chores they ordered him to do. The division of labor was clear.

When they weren't cooking, Nawaki would crouch nearby, his eyes darting back and forth, unable to suppress the smirk on his face. Every ti Tsunade caught him, she would swipe at him with the spatula.

Nawaki would scramble away, shouting, "I can't even stop laughing!"

"You know exactly what that laugh ans!"

Kaede sat to the side, staying out of the fray and focusing on his vegetables.

One evening, the food was served. There was a dish of soy-glazed Pacific saury, a plate of salted cucumbers, a bowl of miso soup, and stead white rice where every grain was perfectly distinct.

The three of them sat around the table. After a couple of bites, Nawaki suddenly stopped. He looked at the food, then at the two people opposite him.

"Sensei, Sis."

"Hmm?"

"Days like this are truly great."

Tsunade's chopsticks paused. Kaede looked up as well.

Nawaki grinned, his eyes curving into crescents. "Just the three of us—eating, arguing, training. If only it could stay like this forever."

Silence settled for a mont. Tsunade glanced at Kaede, and Kaede t her gaze. Neither of them spoke, but their lips curled into smiles at almost the exact sa ti.

Nawaki stuffed the last piece of saury into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a squirrel's as he mumbled, "Once I'm Hokage, I'm going to make you two cook for every single day."

Tsunade rapped him on the forehead with a chopstick. "Wash the dishes first."

"Aw..."

Nawaki picked up his bowl and trotted off toward the kitchen.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Kitahara Kaede set down his chopsticks and walked over to open it.

An ANBU mber stood outside, a hawk pattern etched onto his white mask.

"Kaede-Dono. The Hokage has called an ergency eting in the Hokage Tower conference room in thirty minutes."

The ANBU operative glanced past him at Tsunade. "Lady Tsunade is here as well—you are both summoned to the sa eting."

With that, he vanished in a flicker.

Kitahara Kaede closed the door. Tsunade had already stood up and gave him a look.

"Let's go."