Hospital.
Kitahara Kaede lay in the hospital bed, his expression dazed.
He only wanted the Medical Ninja team to treat the wound on his hand, and at most, check his ribs.
As a result, Tsunade followed him into the infirmary and said to the Medical Ninja on duty in an indisputable tone: “Full-body check, including the ribs.”
The Medical Ninja looked at her, then at Kitahara Kaede.
Kitahara Kaede shook his head slightly.
Useless.
Tsunade had already pressed him onto the examination bed.
So, from head to toe, he was checked.
Rib X-rays, debridement of the hand wound, Chakra meridian testing—nothing was missed.
Kitahara Kaede felt like a turtle flipped over to have its belly checked, lying spread-eagled with zero dignity.
Conclusion: Contusion and rupture of the sixth left rib, the puncture wound on the right hand requires observation, Chakra overdraft, bed rest.
“Stay for two days.” The Medical Ninja finished writing the medical record and closed the notebook.
Kitahara Kaede sat up: “No need—”
“Stay for two days.”
The one who said this wasn’t the Medical Ninja, but Tsunade standing at the foot of the bed.
The tone was exactly the same as the medical order.
It was even more non-negotiable than a medical order—you could sign to refuse a medical order, but you couldn’t refuse Tsunade’s words.
The Medical Ninja sensibly left the room.
The ward grew quiet; faint footsteps and voices could be heard from the distant corridor.
Tsunade pulled over a stool by the bedside and sat down, with no intention of leaving.
Kitahara Kaede closed his eyes.
The system prompt sounded in his mind.
[Side Quest: Hero Saves Beauty—Settlement complete.]
[Rating: S (Perfect).]
[Target’s emotional fluctuation peak exceeded the threshold limit.
Your existence has been deeply embedded in the target’s core memory area.
This performance is judged as: Irreplaceable.]
[Rewards being distributed…]
[Reward obtained: Ninjutsu release effect enhancement +5%.]
[Note: This bonus is a permanent passive effect and can be stacked.
It applies to all Ninjutsu released by the host, including but not limited to: power, range, duration, and precision of nature transformation.]
Kitahara Kaede’s eyelids twitched slightly.
+5%.
At first glance, it didn’t look like much.
But Kitahara Kaede wasn’t the type to just take a glance.
With this bonus, for the same Great Fireball Technique, a normal Ninja would deal C-rank damage, but he would deal C-rank multiplied by 1.05.
The stronger his own abilities become in the future, the stronger this bonus will be.
A C-rank Ninjutsu dealing B-rank effects, a B-rank Ninjutsu dealing A-rank power.
This reward wasn’t for immediate use.
It was for the future.
It was something that became more terrifying the later it got.
Kitahara Kaede’s mouth curled up slightly. Find the original chapter at novelping.com.
“What are you smiling at?”
Tsunade’s voice came from the side.
Kitahara Kaede opened his eyes and realized his mouth was curled up.
“Thinking of something happy.”
“Your hand has a hole in it, what could possibly make you this happy?”
“Secret.”
Tsunade stared at him for a while, huffed, and didn’t press him.
She got up from the stool, walked to the right side of the bed, and reached out to pull over his bandaged right hand.
“Let me see.”
“The Medical Ninja just looked at it—”
“He looks at his, I look at mine.”
As she said this, she already started unwrapping the bandage.
Her technique was slower than the Medical Ninja’s, but her control was very precise.
Seven years old, never having learned Medical Ninjutsu, yet her touch was already more delicate than many adults.
Kitahara Kaede didn’t make a sound, letting her look.
The wound had formed a thin scab, and the surrounding area was bruised.
Tsunade looked it over several times and re-wrapped the bandage.
After wrapping it, she didn’t let go.
“I want to learn Medical Ninjutsu.”
Kitahara Kaede turned his head to look at her.
Tsunade didn’t look back, her gaze fixed on her fingers as she tied the knot.
“Next time you get hurt, I can treat it myself.
No need to wait for the Medical Ninja team.”
She said it very softly, like words that had been held in her heart for a long time and had finally found an outlet.
Kitahara Kaede watched her lowered eyelashes.
He knew this wasn’t a lingering effect of fear—Tsunade was not someone who would be easily frightened.
It was a sense of powerlessness.
Standing five meters away, unable to do anything, watching someone else take a blade for her.
This feeling was worse than taking the blade itself.
“Then you learn it.”
Tsunade looked up and glared at him: “Can’t you say something nice?”
“You learn everything faster than others.
Medical Ninjutsu will be no exception.”
Tsunade’s fingers paused, and she didn’t reply.
She lowered her head and tightened the last loop of the bandage, the force a little heavier than before.
Kitahara Kaede hissed.
“Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then I’ll tighten it more.”
“…It hurts.”
The corners of Tsunade’s mouth curved slightly, then quickly pressed back down.
The bandage knotted, she sat back on the stool. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Sunlight slanted in through the window, casting a rectangular spot of light on the bedsheet, with dust slowly swirling in the beam of light.
Tsunade sat leaning against the wall, quiet for a long time.
Perhaps it was only two or three minutes, but in this ward where only breathing could be heard, it felt very long.
“When you pushed me.”
Her voice was very flat.
“I thought you were going to die.”
Kitahara Kaede turned his head to look at her.
Tsunade gazed out the window, her profile cut into light and shadow by the sunlight.
Her expression was very calm, as if talking about someone else’s business, but the hand on her knee, with five fingers gripping the fabric of her skirt, had knuckles tightening bit by bit.
Kitahara Kaede’s lips moved.
“I won’t—”
He stopped, suddenly remembering something.
In the simulator, he would eventually die.
Dying in the most affectionate and tragic way.
The more painful, the higher the score.
The more unforgettable, the richer the reward.
The ending was already written.
This body, this name, this relationship that started with dice and candy—would all eventually end with a carefully designed death.
The simulator calculates the rating, distributes rewards, and everything resets to zero.
He takes the rewards back to reality and continues to lay low.
This was the rule; he knew it before coming in.
But—
He looked at Tsunade’s clenched fingers, watching her profile that she refused to turn.
Kitahara Kaede swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.
The ward was quiet for three seconds.
“Is there any candy left?”
Tsunade was stunned for a moment.
She turned her head to look at him, the emotions in her eyes retracted, replaced by that “Is there something wrong with your brain?” expression.
Then she took a candy out of her pocket.
Peach flavored.
She didn’t throw it, but placed it on the small table by the bedside, pushing it to a position he could reach.
“It’s the last one.”
Kitahara Kaede picked it up; his right hand was bandaged and lacked strength, so he had to bite open the candy wrapper with his teeth and put it in his mouth.
Tsunade watched him hold the candy in his mouth and stood up.
“Come for a dressing change tomorrow.”
“The doctor will—”
“I’ll change it.”
She walked to the door, her hand resting on the doorframe, and paused.
She didn’t look back.
“You’re right, I learn everything fast.”