Looking back at the passage of time, the past three years hadn't been spent on myself alone.
At first, I'd thought of my time here in the orphanage as a waiting period, years to quietly build up my strength and knowledge until I could make something of myself.
But life, as always, had its own plans.
Between training, assisting in the orphanage, and dealing with the lively group of kids I found myself stuck with, these three years had been anything but passive.
Despite my initial inclination toward solitude, I wasn't left alone for long.
My name, Murakami, had become something of a household name among the other orphans.
Who would have thought my name could be divided into various forms from Mura-chan, Mura-chi, Mu-chan, Mu-chin and others that the littler kids came up with on their own.
At first, it was curiosity.
I could feel it, afterall, I was different.
I performed the same actions daily, trained regularly, meditated, read, and even volunteered to help with chores, which was particularly unheard of among the kids here.
Kids never liked the thought of work since it wasn't fun.
Hoshino, the caretaker, had taken note of this and quickly roped me into more responsibilities, particularly in the kitchen and I didn't protest in the least.
I needed to eat too, after all, but what I hadn't anticipated was just how much of an impact it would have on me.
Assisting in cooking made me more aware of our food situation, the careful rationing, the lack of variety, the struggle to stretch every meal as far as possible.
I also came to understand the funds used for the upkeep of the orphanage was gathered through donations and even the food we got was charity.
It made me realize that, while we weren't exactly starving, we were far from comfortable. It was this realization that led me to a certain neglected piece of land outside the orphanage.
It had started as an idle thought one certain day while watching the older kids grumble about their meals, I turned to Hoshino and casually asked, "What's with that abandoned patch of land near the east wall?"
She blinked, then frowned. "That land? It's just been like that for years. Too dry, too infertile—nothing grows there."
I nodded, as if accepting her answer, but my mind was already working.
That's not true, or rather, that couldn't be true.
A land in the land of fire not being fertile? Anyone else from the other villages will laugh at that joke.
And not to mention the land of fire as a whole, konoha, being the home of Hashirama could never be infertile considering that a large part of the current konoha was built with his Moküton.
This meant that there was either and abundant level of Natural energy here or a lack there of.
Not that I was worried. I'd been a science student with a solid understanding of agriculture in my past life due to my family so I knew how to revitalize soil and how to make infertile land fertile again.
And, this time, I had something even more powerful than modern science at my disposal—Chakra.
More importantly, I had access to free labor in the form of my siblings.
That night, I sat down with Hoshino again, this time with a serious proposal. "What if we turned that land into a farm?"
She gave me a look that clearly said, You're insane.
I didn't blame her.
The masses always look up to us insane ones as different after all.
I pressed on. "Think about it. If we grow our own food, we won't have to rely solely on donations. Even if we only produce a small amount, it'll ease some of the burden."
Hoshino sighed, rubbing her temples. "And who, exactly, is going to tend to this farm?"
I smirked. "We are. We need something to do, right?"
I'm glad she didn't pick upon the fact that the land is infertile. Having known me for so long, she should know that I already have a way around that.
She stared at me, probably debating whether I was a genius or a lunatic. There was a fine line between the two after all. "You're really serious about this?"
"Dead serious."
Eventually, she relented, and with some strings pulled, the land was officially part of the orphanage's property within the week.
That was step one.
Step two was actually making it usable.
The first time I took a handful of soil and let it fall between my fingers, I could weirdly feel how utterly lifeless it was. It lacked moisture, nutrients… everything a plant needed to survive.
Fortunately, I had a plan.
The first was composting.
I started by organising my siblings to start gathering all biodegradable waste from the orphanage ranging from vegetable peels, eggshells, even fallen leaves from surrounding trees.
Gathered over time, this would turn into rich, organic matter that we could mix into the soil.
I would've preferred to have this mixture ground to powder but there was neither a machine for that nor a means to do that… chakra-wise so we could only leave them to decompose with time.
A few days later, I joined the kids in distributing the slightly decomposed waste throughout the land and then we submerged the entire place with water.
The kids had their fun playing with water and mud, which was not totally unexpected since…hell, they were kids
The next step was Chakra Infusion. This was my little cheat. By channeling Chakra directly into the ground, I encouraged microbial activity and moisture retention.
You might wonder…How? Right?
I had absolutely no idea. I just went through with it with feeling, and well, when your chakra control is high enough, you can basically have it do anything with the right direction.
That was the conclusion I came to.
It wasn't something I could do endlessly, but with careful use, I managed to accelerate the recovery process over two weeks.
The third step was actually the most difficult, which was tilling the land.
There was no way kids could do this and when I brought it up to Hoshino, she smiled and said she would take care of it.
Three days later, we welcomed a group of people, an adult and three kids, and I didn't need to be told who they were.
Shinobi.
Well, it was a genin squad and while they were important enough, they were still shinobi and as proof of their impressive status as slightly enhanced humans, the entire field was tilled in less than 3 hours.
This further cemented my goal of being a tycoon. Shinobi were commodities that could be purchased to carry out certain tasks and what made them move was money.
The next step was planting the necessary crops that would be of benefit to the orphanage.
Fortunately, the soil had loosened up after the tilling. It was damp, dark, and fertile with the decomposed waste properly mixed in.
And so we started with the foundations, crops that could survive even under our inexperience.
Sweet potatoes, daikon radish, and soybeans. They were easy to grow, filling, and good for the children's health. The soybeans, in particular, would return nitrogen to the soil, keeping it fertile for the next cycle.
The second set was for the medical wing. We settled for the essentials Hoshino-san could provide, aloe vera for burns, ginger and garlic for immunity, mint to help with colds.
All of them were simple, useful, and didn't need too much interference.
By the time we finished planting, the sun had started dipping.
In general, this was an application of crop rotation. Instead of planting one thing all at once, by rotating between different crops we could prevent nutrient depletion.
Slowly but surely, the once-barren land began to change.
Dividing the labor was both a necessity and a challenge.
Not all the kids were willing workers.
Some, like Aiko, outright refused to get their hands dirty unless absolutely necessary. Others, like Kazu, needed a bit of... creative motivation (bribery with extra portions of food usually did the trick).
Ultimately, the responsibilities were split as follows:
Soil Prep & Watering: The younger kids, since it required the least effort.
Planting & Weeding: Older kids who were patient enough for the task.
Harvesting & Storage: A mix of everyone, since it was the most rewarding part.
And as time passed, the farm became more than just a food source. It became an escape, a place where they could work, laugh, and—on occasion—throw dirt at each other when Hoshino wasn't watching.
Fucking kids, I tell ya. You can't just not hate them.
Of course, all of this was in addition to my real focus—my training.
Having been a spiritual person in my past life, I was also a gym enthusiast since I believed my body was a beautiful work of art that shouldn't be let to rot without it achieving its true potential.
A bit cheesy but yeah.
I believed it to be and so, I knew exactly how to sculpt my body the way I wanted. And since I was still a child, the key wasn't heavy lifting, but rather a mix of:
Bodyweight Exercises which consist of push-ups, pull-ups, dips, and planks to build foundational strength.
Endurance Training which includes sprint drills, long-distance running, and controlled breathing exercises.
Then there is Flexibility & Agility Work which consists of Yoga, dynamic stretching, and simple acrobatics to keep my body limber.
The girls preferred this while the boys thought it was too girly.
Not that I cared.
There was the Chakra Control Exercises which entailed daily meditation, leaf concentration drills, and just recently, tree climbing.
I tried water walking once and noticed that my chakra level wasn't enough to handle that level of strain so I stuck to tree walking.
I also needed to be able to stick to the wall for so long that the chakra expenditure would be negligible just like with the leaf sticking exercise.
In general, I had no intention of being bulky. What I wanted was a body built for endurance, speed, and efficiency.
With each passing month, I felt my strength growing, my stamina improved, and my control over Chakra grew steadier. It was a slow and methodical progress, but progress nonetheless.
Looking back on these three years, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The farm was running smoothly, I was steadily growing stronger, and even the orphanage felt… livelier.
I had been prepared to only look out for myself during my first few weeks here, and yet, somehow, I'd ended up changing the lives of those around me.
Maybe I wasn't as selfish as I thought. I have to work on that.
…
"What is it you wanted to talk about?" Hoshino asked as she put down the writing brush she was using to write on the scroll spread out on the table.
The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow into the small office she used for handling orphanage affairs. It was her office space.
The room was modest, with stacks of paperwork neatly arranged on the desk, a bookshelf filled with records, and a small potted plant struggling to survive in the corner.
Maybe I should get her a new one later, I thought idly.
I sat across from her, my hands resting on my lap, fingers lightly tapping against my knee as I considered my words. "I want to enroll in the Shinobi Academy."
Hoshino's expression didn't change immediately, but I noticed the slight pause in her movements, the brief moment where she simply studied me. Then, with a sigh, she leaned back in her chair.
"I was wondering when you'd say that," she admitted.
I blinked. "You knew?"
She smiled faintly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course. You've been training like a madman for years. The only question was when you'd finally come to me about it. The others are already hyped about it."
I nodded. That was true. This had been my goal for a while now, but I had taken my time preparing. As for the others, that was just the curious excitement kids had to cool things.
Three years of conditioning my body, learning all I could from books, experimenting with chakra control, and even finding ways to improve the living conditions the orphanage had led to this moment.
Still, knowing she had expected this didn't mean she would agree.
"I know you're strong, Murakami," she continued, folding her arms. "But the Academy isn't just about training. It's about commitment. Once you take this path, there's no going back. Are you sure this is what you want?"
I met her gaze without hesitation. "Yes."
I understood what she meant. The moment I enrolled into the academy, I was stepping onto the path of a shinobi, whether I liked it or not.
She studied me for a long moment before letting out another sigh, softer this time. "Then I'll take care of it."
I exhaled, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. "Thank you."
Hoshino chuckled. "Don't thank me yet. You'll be dealing with actual shinobi instructors now. No more self-paced training. No more doing things on your terms."
I smirked. "I think I'll manage."
She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "You better. The entrance ceremony will be ready within the month. Make sure you're ready, and take care of your siblings when you can."
I paused for a moment then nodded and rose up to leave.
As I left the office, a sense of anticipation settled over me. I had spent three years laying the groundwork. Now, it was time to step onto the real battlefield.