The Last One

Hospital.

Kitahara Kaede lay on the hospital bed, his expression blank.

He had only wanted the medical team to treat the wound on his hand, or at most, take a look at his ribs.

Instead, Tsunade followed him into the infirmary and told the duty medic in an indisputable tone, "Full body check, including the ribs."

The medic looked at her, then at Kitahara Kaede.

Kitahara Kaede shook his head slightly.

It was useless.

Tsunade had already pressed him down onto the examination bed.

And so, they checked him from head to toe.

Anteroposterior rib X-rays, debridement of the hand wound, chakra meridian testing—nothing was skipped.

Kitahara Kaede felt like a turtle flipped over to have its belly inspected, splayed out and utterly devoid of dignity.

Conclusion: fracture of the sixth left rib, the penetrating wound on the right hand required observation, chakra exhaustion, bed rest.

"Stay for two days." The medic finished writing the medical record and closed the folder.

Kitahara Kaede sat up. "There's no need—"

"Stay for two days."

The one who said this wasn't the medic, but Tsunade, who was standing at the foot of the bed.

Her tone was identical to the doctor's orders.

It was even less negotiable than the doctor's orders—you could sign a waiver to refuse medical advice, but you couldn't refuse Tsunade.

The medic tactfully left the room.

The ward fell silent, with faint footsteps and voices drifting in from the distant hallway.

Tsunade pulled over a stool and sat down, showing no intention of leaving.

Kitahara Kaede closed his eyes.

The system prompt rang in his mind.

[Side quest: Hero saves the 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 distributing...]

[Reward obtained: Ninjutsu release effect enhanced +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.

+5%.

It looked unremarkable at first glance.

But Kitahara Kaede was not a man who looked only at the surface.

With this bonus, a single Great Fireball that a normal ninja would cast with C-rank damage would be multiplied by 1.05.

The stronger his future abilities became, the stronger this bonus would be.

A C-rank ninjutsu would produce B-rank effects; a B-rank ninjutsu would produce A-rank power.

This reward wasn't for the present.

It was for the future.

It was the kind of thing that became more terrifying the further along he went.

The corners of Kitahara Kaede's mouth curled up slightly.

"What are you smiling at?"

Tsunade's voice came from beside him.

Kitahara Kaede opened his eyes and realized his mouth was still curled.

"Thinking of something happy."

"Your hand has a hole in it, what could possibly make you that happy?"

"A secret."

Tsunade stared at him for a while, huffed, and didn't press further.

She rose 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 medic just looked at it—"

"He looked at his, I'm looking at mine."

As she spoke, she began to unwrap the bandages.

Her technique was slower than the medic's, but her control was precise.

At seven years old, having never studied medical ninjutsu, her touch was already more delicate than many adults.

Kitahara Kaede didn't make a sound, letting her examine it.

The wound had formed a thin scab, surrounded by purple bruising.

Tsunade inspected it back and forth several times before wrapping the bandages back on.

When she finished, she didn't let go.

"I want to learn medical ninjutsu."

Kitahara Kaede tilted 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 handle it myself. I won't have to wait for the medical team."

She spoke softly, like words she had held in her heart for a long time, finally finding an exit.

Kitahara Kaede watched her lowered eyelashes.

He knew this wasn't the aftereffect of fear—Tsunade wasn't the type to 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.

That feeling was harder to bear than the blade itself.

"Then 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, but she didn't reply.

She lowered her head and tightened the last loop of the bandage, applying a bit more force than before.

Kitahara Kaede hissed.

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Then I'll tighten it more."

"...It hurts."

The corners of Tsunade's mouth curved, only to be pressed back into a line immediately.

Once the knot was tied, she sat back on the stool.

Sunlight slanted in through the window, casting a rectangular patch of light on the sheets, with dust motes swirling slowly in the beam.

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 flat.

"I thought you were going to die."

Kitahara Kaede turned to look at her.

Tsunade was gazing out the window, her profile cut into light and shadow by the sun.

Her expression was faint, as if she were talking about someone else, but the hand on her knee had its five fingers gripping the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles tightening bit by bit.

Kitahara Kaede's lips moved.

"I wouldn't—"

He stopped, suddenly remembering something.

In the simulator, he would eventually die.

He would die in the most affectionate, most tragic way possible.

The more painful it was, the higher the rating.

The more unforgettable it was, the more generous the reward.

The ending had already been written.

This body, this name, this relationship that started with dice and candy—it would all end in a meticulously designed death.

The simulator would calculate the rating, distribute the rewards, and everything would return to zero.

He would take the rewards back to reality and continue to lie low.

These were the rules; he had known them before he entered.

But—

He looked at Tsunade's clenched fingers, at her profile that she refused to turn away.

Kitahara Kaede swallowed the words that had reached his lips.

The ward was silent for three seconds.

"Do you have any more candy?"

Tsunade was startled.

She turned her head to look at him, the emotions in her eyes receding, replaced by that "are you out of your mind" expression.

Then, she pulled a piece of candy from her pocket.

Peach flavored.

She didn't throw it, but placed it on the small table by the bed, pushing it to where he could reach.

"It's the last one."

Kitahara Kaede picked it up. With his right hand bandaged and useless, he had to use his teeth to tear open the wrapper and pop it into his mouth.

Tsunade watched him suck on the candy and stood up.

"Come get your dressing changed tomorrow."

"The doctor will—"

"I'll change it."

She walked to the door, her hand resting on the frame, and paused.

She didn't look back.

"You're right, I learn everything fast."