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Morning in Konoha
The first rays of morning sunlight spilled across Konoha, bathing the village in a soft golden glow. The warmth carried a quiet vitality, breathing life into the streets and rooftops below.
"I'm leaving!"
A youthful voice echoed from a large courtyard in the residential district. A boy of about seven, full of boundless energy, rushed out the gate with a bright smile. His golden hair glimmered under the sun.
Namikaze Minato had risen early, as always.
Despite the intense training he had put himself through the night before, he felt no fatigue whatsoever. In fact, his body felt lighter—almost brimming with strength. The sensation puzzled him.
Strange... At my age, my Chakra recovery shouldn't be this fast.
He frowned slightly, recalling what he'd learned. The body of a child had its limits. Even though his Chakra control and reserves were exceptional for his age, this rate of recovery defied what he knew to be possible.
Maybe I should ask Shirota-sensei when I get to the Academy.
Shirota Hon—his homeroom teacher—was a Chūnin known not for combat, but for his deep understanding of theory. For Minato, still only a first-year student, even a Chūnin's knowledge felt vast. Rumor had it that Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage himself, respected Shirota's intellect.
Of course, that admiration was for his mind, not his power.
The Third Hokage was a living legend—the Professor of Ninjutsu—a man whose mastery of techniques was said to rival the total of all five Great Nations' Kage combined. Thanks to such a man, Konoha stood strong and peaceful.
Minato's gaze turned upward. To become Hokage... I'll have to surpass even him someday.
The thought didn't frighten him. It filled him with purpose.
As he walked down the bustling main street, villagers were already setting up shop. The scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of morning dew. Children's laughter echoed between the wooden houses. It was peaceful—the kind of peace worth protecting.
"Minato!"
A gentle voice called from behind. He turned, and the morning light reflected in his clear blue eyes.
Standing there was a girl about his age, her long black hair swaying softly. Her expression was calm and refined—yet kind.
"Good morning, Mikoto," Minato greeted, smiling warmly.
Uchiha Mikoto, his classmate, returned the smile, her dark eyes gleaming like polished obsidian. Unlike most of her clan, she carried none of their usual arrogance. She was quiet, graceful, and sincere.
"Good morning," she replied, lifting a small cloth bag in her hands. "Have you eaten breakfast?"
Before he could answer, she untied the bag and pulled out a rice ball, her cheeks slightly pink.
"My mother taught me how to make onigiri yesterday. I was planning to share them at lunch... but, um, maybe you could taste one first? I'm not sure they turned out well."
Her shy tone drew a chuckle from Minato.
"If it's Mikoto's cooking, I'm sure it'll be delicious," he said without hesitation.
She blinked, momentarily stunned. The sincerity in his voice—and the confidence in his clear blue eyes—made her heart feel strangely at ease.
"Then... okay," she murmured, smiling softly.
"How about we share them with everyone during lunch break?" Minato added, his grin widening. "Food always tastes better when shared."
"Alright." Mikoto nodded, putting the rice ball back into the bag as they began walking together toward the Konoha Ninja Academy.
By the time they arrived, the classroom was still empty. Most of their classmates preferred to sleep in, but Minato and Mikoto were always early.
As Mikoto carefully set down her bag, Minato pulled a small notebook from his desk—a Shinobi Handbook—and began to read. His expression turned calm, serious.
A few minutes later, the classroom door slid open. A man with a Konoha forehead protector stepped inside, carrying a bundle of scrolls under one arm. His appearance was modest—short brown hair, ordinary features—but his eyes were bright and intelligent.
"Good morning, Minato, Mikoto," he greeted with a gentle smile.
"Good morning, Shirota-sensei," the two students said in unison, bowing respectfully. In the world of shinobi, respect toward one's teacher was second only to loyalty toward one's comrades.
The Third Hokage's own teachers had been the First and Second Hokage—giants who built the very foundation of Konoha. Great teachers forged great students. Minato believed that deeply.
"Shirota-sensei," Minato began as the man set his scrolls on the desk, "may I ask you something before class?"
The Chūnin adjusted his glasses. "Of course, Minato. What's troubling you?"
Minato explained his strange recovery that morning—carefully omitting the true nature of his late-night training. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. After all, the techniques he was experimenting with were far beyond Academy-level.
Shirota listened patiently, then nodded. "It's good that you're training diligently. As for your Chakra recovery, there's no need for concern. The human body sometimes adapts faster than we expect—especially when the heart is strong."
He smiled knowingly. "Still, don't overdo it. A shinobi grows best when he learns to rest."
"Yes, Sensei. Thank you." Minato bowed again, his tone sincere.
Shirota chuckled softly. "You're always so polite... It's no wonder your classmates respect you."
As Minato turned to return to his seat, Shirota added, "Oh, one more thing. Today, we'll be welcoming a new transfer student. Be sure to help them adjust."
"Understood!" Minato replied cheerfully.
From her desk, Mikoto looked up and smiled. With Minato's kindness, there was no one in the Academy who couldn't fit in.
Outside, the morning sun climbed higher, casting its light over Konoha—the village of shinobi who dreamed of protecting tomorrow.
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