Nornal POV
The border attacks were a prelude to a much bigger event and it had changed everything.
Even if the Academy was still maintaining its structure, the tension amongst the shinobi was undeniable.
Everyone present in the evaluation meeting understood that these discussions weren't just about education anymore, they were about Konoha's future.
The Shinobi Academy was no longer just a school; it was the foundation for the next generation of Shinobi.
The room was filled with instructors, each seated according to the year and class they taught.
At the front of the room, the Academy board members sat in quiet contemplation as they read through the scrolls in front of them.
Matsuda-sensei sat among the second-year instructors, waiting for his turn to make a verbal summary of his report.
The discussion began with the first-year instructors making their reports.
"The incoming students this year have shown a wide range of talent," the first-year instructor of class 1D said, "However, many of them are still struggling with basic chakra control and stamina. Given the current state of affairs, I suggest an increased emphasis on physical conditioning and combat readiness in the coming terms."
There were nods around the room. Everyone knew what that really meant, whether they admitted it or not, the Academy needed to shift toward wartime training.
Once all the first-year reports concluded, Matsuda-sensei stood up, "I'll begin my report on Class 2A."
A few heads turned in interest, his class had been the subject of conversation more than once this year, primarily due to a certain student.
"The overall progression of the students in 2A has been steady," Matsuda began, his tone measured and stiff. "The children's physique all improved across the board, though some students are clearly growing faster than others."
"Taijutsu remains solid, with a few standouts pushing ahead of their peers. Their improvement in sparring has been notable, though their discipline could still use work."
"Chakra control remains an issue for many. While most students struggle with fine control, I've made efforts to reinforce the fundamentals."
"A handful have shown noticeable improvements, though, as expected, those with larger reserves continue to face difficulty in fine-tuning their control."
He paused briefly, then continued. "Of particular note is Haruki Murakami."
The room shifted slightly at the mention of the name. This wasn't the first time this name was coming up during one of these meetings.
Matsuda continued unhesitantly, "As everyone here knows, he entered the Academy at the age of seven, two years behind his peers. To properly evaluate his abilities, he was placed in my class among second-year students. At the time, there were doubts about whether he could keep up."
He let that statement hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
"Not only did he keep up, but he surpassed most of his classmates in several areas. His chakra control is among the best in the class,"
"His application of the Academy's curriculum is methodical. He doesn't just learn techniques as they are taught, he goes further to analyse and refine them."
''His taijutsu, while not the best, has improved significantly. He lacks brute strength, but he makes up for it with precise movements and efficient counterattacks with a preference for fundamental strikes over unnecessary flash."
He folded his arms. "But his greatest strength isn't in direct combat but in intelligence and adaptability. Unlike most children, he actively analyzes how things operates."
"While other kids chase attention, he tends to watch quietly, asking thoughtful questions now and then. There's a level of curiosity and awareness to him that feels… a bit ahead of his age."
"Even his social interactions are measured—he is neither withdrawn nor overly engaged, maintaining a careful balance between participation and observation."
A silence settled over the room. The instructors understood the implication.
Matsuda continued, his tone sharper now. "In normal times, a student like Murakami would be encouraged toward a support or intelligence-based role. But we are not in normal times."
"I believe that having him go through a standard Academy progression is not only a waste of his potential but a disservice to the village."
He met the eyes of the Academy board members. "I recommend that Murakami be double-promoted once again, placing him among the fourth-years for his next term."
Murmurs broke out immediately.
One of the third-year instructors scoffed. "Matsuda, do you realize what you're suggesting? The difference between the second-years curriculum and the fourth-years' isn't just technical, it's a fundamental gap in development. He's only been in the academy for a year."
Matsuda met the instructor's gaze evenly. "Yes. And when he entered the Academy, we had a similar discussion, the only difference is that I'm the one pushing for it now."
One of the head instructors amongst the board frowned slightly. "You know this isn't just about skill. Hashirama-sama won't be happy if news of this reaches his ears."
The room immediately broke out in Murmurs as these words were spoken.
The Academy may be described to the public as a place where all kids could go and learn how to become shinobi due to Hashirama's dream of creating a village where children didn't have to fight and kill each other.
However, that didn't stop Tobirama from using the establishment to pump out shinobi for the village.
The fact that Murakami was placed in the 2nd year upon admission into the academy could be explained as him being too good to be with the beginners from the entrance evaluation.
However moving him once more would draw attention if news were to spread.
"Socially, he's still a child, if we push him too fast, we risk isolating him." The instructor re-interpreted his words
Matsuda sighed and shook his head. "With all due respect, isolation is hardly an issue for him. If anything, he operates better when left to his own methods."
"And let's be realistic, the scrimmages at the border are changing things. If this were to turn into a war, it would be the first of its kind."
"Do you honestly think we can afford to treat this as a normal Academy cycle with him? If he can handle the curriculum, there's no reason to hold him back."
One of the board members finally spoke, an older man who had remained silent until now. "You've made a compelling case, Matsuda-san. However, your recommendation would set a precedent. We don't make double promotions lightly, especially not twice in a row."
Matsuda inclined his head. "I understand. That's why I suggest a compromise. Place him in a fourth-year class for one term as a transition. If he adapts well, he should remain there permanently."
The room fell into thought.
A younger instructor muttered under his breath, "A new student taking fourth-year lessons after one year… absurd."
The board members exchanged glances before one of them finally nodded.
"Very well. Murakami will be moved to a fourth-year class next term. His progress will be closely monitored, and if he meets expectations, he will remain in the fourth-year class till the year's end."
Matsuda inclined his head in respect. "A fair decision."
The meeting continued with discussions about other students, but the shift in mood was noticeable.
Not everyone agreed with the decision, but none could deny the reality,
The 20 years of peace ushered in by Hashirama was reaching its breaking point. Things were changing and Konoha had to change in order not to be left behind.
With the absence of Tobirama, the 2nd Hokage who was alao the de facto Head of the academy, the Academy board was the highest authority.
The Academy had to change with it so they took the necessary steps.
And Murakami, unbeknownst to himself, was proof that some students would have no choice but to adapt faster than the rest.
…
...
Murakami POV
The atmosphere in the village had changed.
It wasn't something that kids my age would notice, but I did anyway.
Ever since the news of Hashirama Senju's passing spread, a heavy weight had settled over the village as everyone mourned him.
The adults spoke in hushed tones about his legacy, about how he had built this village from nothing and secured an era of peace.
But peace was a fragile thing, and Hashirama's death cracked the foundation which it had been built upon.
But one thing was clear.
It had nothing to do with me.
I already knew I was far back in the story and Hashirama's death just made me understand that even more, and one thing I knew was this: Even during the time of peace, there were still skirmishes around the borders.
There would obviously be spies shuttling from one village to another to acquire intelligence and shinobis being deployed to address them.
One such skirmish led to the death of my parents after all. So whether it's wartime or peacetime, it has nothing to do with me. Life would continue on regardless.
Anyways, on the matter of the 1st Hokage's death, we orphans hadn't attended the funeral. The entire village mourned him since we all wore black.
However, we couldn't attend the gathering that laid him to rest. But even without attending, I could feel the loss from the heavy atmosphere.
Kids of my generation didn't really feel it since they didn't know the level of power Hashirama commanded and only knew he was the one who put an end to the warring era from the stories about him going around.
Many from the older generation however, had witnessed his majesty and felt the loss more acutely.
Sigh. The village wasn't the same anymore.
In the days that followed, the market streets were just as crowded, the academy halls just as noisy, but beneath it all, there was tension.
It was funny how one man's absence could change the mood of the entire world.
It is said that all are equal in the face of death, but there really is a level of importance one would have that would make their presence reverberate long after they're gone.
The tension was subtle at first, more ANBU in the streets, more shinobi moving in groups instead of alone, more hushed conversations in the corners of tea shops and dango stalls.
It became more obvious as time passed.
Clans held more private meetings, merchants grew wary, and even the civilians who had no ties to the shinobi world walked with a bit more caution.
I had access to these informations from the small network I had built for myself with the help of other orphaned kids, but I didn't really need it to put things together.
The patterns spoke for themselves. Konoha was preparing for something.
The First Shinobi War was right at the horizon...if it wasn't here already.
According to what I knew from the anime, it was all triggered by a lack of land and resources. It was an absurd reason to a modern mind like mine.
Entire nations throwing away lives over borders that didn't even have walls, just lines on maps drawn by men who wanted more than they could hold.
But I also understood that this wasn't the world I came from. Here, power was the currency of survival.
Heh, who was I kidding? In the medieval and ancient time on Earth, wars were also carried out for similar reasons.
There was never a good rationale for war. That much I know.
And with the passing of Hashirama, although the Senju still held authority, but it wasn't the same. Tobirama's leadership was efficient, sharp and cold like the man himself but he was a builder of systems, not a symbol of hope.
People respected him, but they didn't believe in him the way they had believed in Hashirama.
Even from my small window as an orphan, I could feel that difference.
That was why I wasn't naïve enough to think that despite it having nothing to do with me, it wouldn't affect me.
It was only a matter of time before the war escalated to the point that the Academy started pushing students toward early graduation and into the battlefield.
That wasn't something I wanted. But even I couldn't deny that wartime was when fortunes were made. The difference was, I had no intention of earning mine on the battlefield.