Three days later, at dusk.
Kitahara Kaede pushed aside the curtain of his quarters.
He had no wounds on his body; his clothes were simply a bit dirty, and that was all.
A bearded Jonin was hunched over a desk, writing. A personnel list lay spread before him, the tip of the pen hovering over a specific line.
Kaede glanced at it.
The line bore his na, and beside it were two checkboxes—one labeled "Missing," the other "KIA."
"Sir."
The Jonin snapped his head up.
His grip slipped, and the pen rolled across the desk before clattering to the floor.
He stared at Kitahara Kaede, his expression not one of surprise or joy, but as if he had seen a ghost.
Kaede didn't give him ti to process the shock. He placed a sealed scroll and a map case on the table.
"Mission C-47, solo reconnaissance. The infiltration routes for the southwest Land of Wind, the distribution of overt and covert sentries along the way, and troop wave patterns are all inside."
The Jonin didn't respond imdiately, his gaze scanning Kaede from head to toe.
He wasn't limping, he wasn't crippled, and he wasn't missing any limbs. He didn't even have any bandages on him.
The Jonin took the scroll and broke the seal, initially skimming through it carelessly.
Then, his deanor shifted.
He flattened the scroll on the table and began flipping through the pages one by one, with utter seriousness.
Three infiltration routes were marked in red, each with specific ti stamps.
The positions of covert sentries were marked with circles and crosses, accompanied by brief notes: blind spot directions, shift intervals, and camouflage types.
One page detailed the shift patterns of the Sunagakure patrol teams, precise to the hour.
The Jonin looked up at Kaede, opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it and swallowed his words.
He rolled the scroll back up.
"This intelligence... I cannot assign a rank to it."
His tone was a complete reversal from three days ago.
"It needs to be submitted directly to Commander Kato for review. Stand by at the camp."
Kaede nodded and turned to leave.
As the curtain fell, the Jonin bent down to retrieve his pen from the floor and glanced back at the personnel list on the table.
The empty boxes for "Missing" and "KIA" were still waiting for a checkmark.
He crumpled the list and tossed it into the wastebasket.
***
The command tent.
Dan Kato spread the scroll across the desk and read it twice.
He tapped the page detailing the shift patterns with his finger, remaining silent for a mont.
Infiltration routes, sentry distribution, troop deploynt—if this was verified as accurate, it would be enough to support a dium-scale counter-infiltration operation.
The keyword was "if."
"Bring him in."
Kaede entered, lifting the curtain and giving a slight bow.
Dan appraised him.
Fifteen years old, lean, with an expressionless face. He didn't look like soone who had just made a round trip through enemy infiltration territory; he looked more like soone who had gone for a stroll.
"Sit. The completion rate is impressive. There are a few points I need to confirm."
"Please, sir."
"You marked ti nodes for three infiltration routes. What was your data source? Visual estimation or actual timing?"
"Mostly visual estimation, calculated by the movent of the sun. The margin of error is roughly half an hour."
"The shift patterns of the Sunagakure covert sentries—how long did you observe them?"
"Two full cycles. I confird the pattern on the first day and cross-verified it on the second."
"You weren't discovered during this ti?"
"I got lucky. I utilized the wind direction and the blind spots during their shift changes. I didn't dare get too close, recording everything from the periphery using binoculars."
Every answer was delivered steadily, the logic clear.
He had calibrated his answers perfectly to fit the profile of "a cautious Genin completing reconnaissance through survival instinct." He didn't say a word too many, leaving no loopholes.
Dan closed the scroll.
"The quality of the intelligence can only be finalized after frontline verification. If it proves true, I will report this achievent accurately, and there will be corresponding comndations and mission stipends."
He paused.
"Good work. You may go and rest."
"Thank you, sir."
Kaede stood and left imdiately.
As the curtain dropped, Dan didn't rush to look at the next docunt.
His previous file had stated: "No standout traits; recomnded for transfer to logistics."
After being the sole survivor of three total team wipes, Dan had assud the boy was simply lucky. Now, it seed it was more than that.
Lucky people don't draw shift tables precise to the hour.
Dan picked up his pen, signed Kaede's mission report, and filed it into the verification queue. Then, he pulled a blank mission pre-authorization form from a drawer and wrote three words in the "Personnel" column:
Kitahara Kaede.
***
The outskirts of the camp.
The sky was darkening.
Kaede found a secluded corner and sat down, leaning against a wooden crate, as he began to calculate.
The reward of 150,000 Ryo depended on the intelligence verification. If all went well, plus the comndation stipend, he would make roughly—
Voices drifted over from nearby.
A few shinobi had just co off patrol and were crouching by a water bucket to wash their faces.
"...I'm telling you, Commander Kato is really easy to get along with. He doesn't put on airs and speaks so gently," a female ninja's voice said.
"Isn't he? He is Lord Dan, after all."
"And he's just too handso... I didn't even dare look up when I delivered docunts today."
"Give it a rest," a veteran soldier chuckled beside her. "Stop dreaming. Commander Kato has been married for several years, and the two of them have always been wonderful together. Everyone in the Hidden Leaf knows."
"Really?"
"Who in the Hidden Leaf doesn't know? They're a model couple."
Kaede's hand paused as he was rummaging through his tool pouch.
Married? A model couple...
In the original story, who was Dan Kato's lover?
Only Tsunade.
But now, Dan was alive.
He was very much alive, and had lived long enough to marry.
Then, the person he married—
An image suddenly rushed into Kaede's mind without warning.
Tsunade, wearing an apron, looking back at him with a single grain of rice stuck to her forehead.
Only, the person standing beside the stove had long, azure-blue hair and a gentle smile.
It wasn't him.
Kaede closed his tool pouch and set it aside.
He tried his best not to think about it and started calculating again.
150,000 Ryo, plus the lowest estimate for the comndation stipend—he was still over 4.8 million short of five million.
If he took a reconnaissance mission of the sa grade every two weeks...
He couldn't finish the math.
His brain was calculating, but that image kept resurfacing.
Kaede stared at a non-existent point in front of him, beginning to examine a question he hadn't wanted to face.
Twenty-so years.
He had experienced over twenty years in the simulator.
Eating, doing missions, getting injured, holding hands, kissing—he rembered every single detail clearly.
At the ti, he thought he was just acting, striving for that S-rank evaluation.
But now, the play had ended.
The evaluation was achieved; the rewards were claid.
He was sitting here, in a border camp that had nothing to do with Tsunade, and because of so casual gossip from strangers, he couldn't even finish his arithtic.
Had he truly developed feelings for... soone in a simulator?
But the real Tsunade didn't know him.
To her, the na "Kitahara Kaede" ant nothing.
But to him, the na "Tsunade" carried the weight of twenty years.
The ninjas in the camp were still chatting, the topic having shifted from Dan Kato to the quality of the food.
Kaede lowered his eyes.
He found himself thinking—Dan probably isn't very good at cooking.
He froze for a mont after the thought.
Then, he stood up and brushed off his pants.
The darkness had fully set in.
Bonfires lit up across the camp, and the change-of-guard passwords echoed from the distant patrol posts.
He walked back to his tent, lay down on the army cot, and rolled over to face the tent wall.
After a long while, he reached out and pulled the blanket over his head.
Under the blanket, in the darkness.
Twenty-so years.
He had played the part of the devoted lover for over twenty years.
He had to give himself one night to digest it.
Just one night.
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