Kakashi stood near the open window, one foot resting on the sill, a book balanced loosely in one hand, unread. The breeze fluttered the page corners, but his visible eye wasn’t on the words. Its was tracking the ten-inch figure pacing across the low table below him.

Charlie.

Still active. Still talking to yourself. That’s good. Adjustment is critical to survival.

He leaned slightly forward, elbows resting on his knees, face masked as always.

“You’ve made it from the tea cup to the ink jar and back without falling once,” he said mildly.

“Impressive. Yesterday, you barely cleared the shoji rail.”

The eye curved faintly. Amusement, or maybe approval. Hard to tell.

“I would recommend against scaling the plant again, though. Pakkun almost mistook you for a chew toy. And I don’t have enough chakra left to explain that to Tsunade if it goes badly.”

He paused, turning a page without looking down at it.

Strange chakra signature. No summoning formula. No jutsu residue. Just… a box. And Charlie.

A faint hum of consideration escaped him.

“I have theories. None I’m willing to test. Yet.” He stood up fully, towering above the table. “But if you’re what i think you are..”

He crouched, slowly, and set a shallow saucer beside them, steam rising faintly from the cooled tea inside.

“Drink. You’re small. You’ll dehydrate faster.”

He lingered for a beat, then tilted his head slightly.

“You don’t have to talk to me.” He glanced at the corner of the room where a scroll lay half-unfurled. “But if you keep pacing like that, I’ll have to teach you chakra control. And I think you’d hate that.”

They’re adapting faster than expected. Good. But something still doesn’t add up.

Straightening again, he reached lazily for his book.

“I’m going outside in a bit. You can ride in the vest or stay here and try to climb the bookshelf again. Up to you.”

A pause. Then, almost too casual, “…If you fall this time, I’m not catching you. Just so we’re clear.”

He would. He absolutely would. But Charlie didn’t need to know that.