"Respectfully, I refuse."
"..."
"Huh?"
"HUH!?
"EH!?"
Tch. What a lame reaction.
Did they think I'd roll over and beam at the opportunity of being promoted ahead of my class? Please, I've still got things to learn here.
The classroom immediately went abuzz with murmurs due to my refusal, one thing they had in common was trying to make sense of what they just heard.
As expected of Matsuda-sensei, he didn't immediately react. He simply studied me for a moment, his brows slightly furrowing.
I already knew what he was thinking.
With the war on the horizon, the Academy was pushing for faster graduations.
They needed fresh shinobi to bolster their ranks, and exceptional students were being given the opportunity to advance quicker.
For most, it was a fast track to glory. For me, it was a glaring red flag.
One part of me wanted to tell him outright.
That I saw through their plan, that I knew we were all being primed as expendable soldiers.
But another part of me, the more cautious part, knew that voicing such thoughts wouldn't lead anywhere good.
Matsuda-sensei was a good instructor, but at the end of the day, he was still part of the system.
So, I settled for something safe. Something he couldn't refute.
"I feel there's still so much to learn from you and my fellow classmates." I said, making sure my voice carried just the right amount of sincerity.
A small silence followed. I could tell Matsuda-sensei was considering my words carefully.
"Uh…"
Yup. Not even he could find a flaw in that logic. If I had said something like, 'I don't think I'm ready,' he would've countered with an encouragement.
If I had said, 'I'd rather stay with my friends,' he would've argued that bonds could be formed in any class.
But by saying I wanted to learn, I had effectively cut off any rebuttal.
A few students exchanged glances, their low whispers barely reaching my ears before Matsuda-sensei exhaled lightly, shaking his head in amusement. "I see…" He leaned forward slightly, the edges of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk. "You always were the observant type."
His gaze swept across the room before settling back on me. "Well, I assume none of you share Murakami's sentiments?"
The whispers grew louder, but no one stepped forward. Of course, they wouldn't. They may be young but they understood that advancement meant prestige and a chance to carve their names into the growing legend of Konoha.
That was never my goal.
"Alright then. As I had said, if any of you manage to achieve full marks at the end of the term, you will be eligible for early promotion." His gaze swept over the class. "That applies to the rest of you as well. Work hard, and you may find yourselves moving ahead faster than you expected."
The class erupted into chatter once again. Some kids looked excited at the idea of early promotion while others became nervous.
I simply sat back down and turned my gaze toward the window.
The war had yet to fully affect the village, at least not on the surface, but the tension it carried was there as there were more shinobi on the streets.
There was a quiet pressure in the air, an unspoken understanding that things were shifting and it wouldn't be long before the Academy changed to reflect the reality of the times.
…
As the class continued buzzing about the early promotion, I let my mind drift to the past few weeks.
The Academy break had been anything but relaxing for me. While the other kids spent their time playing, training, or visiting family, I had been focused on one thing, laying the groundwork for my business.
The store I had chosen had proven to be the right choice.
Ishida-san was skeptical at first, and rightfully so. An eight-year-old orphan walking in and proposing a business arrangement wasn't exactly normal. But money talks.
And although I didn't have much, what I did have was a plan.
I convinced him to let me manage a small corner of his shop, a section I dedicated to supplying Academy students with everyday essentials.
Basic supplies from training wraps, durable notebooks, pencils, to simple snack packs for kids too lazy to make breakfast before class.
It started small like all things worthwhile.
I set my prices slightly lower than the bigger stores to make them more appealing.
A standard roll of training wrap that normally sold for 20 ryō in the main market? I priced mine at 18 ryō.
Kunai oil, which typically went for 50 ryō, was available at my section for 45 ryō. The difference wasn't massive, but for students constantly needing supplies, every ryō counted.
The profit margins hovered around 10%, maybe a little more on good days. Ishida-san took 70% of every sale, just as we agreed, since it was his shop, his license, and his supply network. That left me with enough to restock, save a bit, and learn what sold fastest.
By the second week, Ishida-san started shifting things around, giving me a better shelf by the aisle.
By the third, he was asking questions: about numbers, about stock, about whether I thought we should start ordering more..
He wasn't just indulging a kid's humour anymore, he saw the business potential.
The key had been information. I knew what students wanted because I was one of them.
During training and our occasional free time, I paid attention.
Who was frustrated about their dull kunai thay needed sharpening?
Who needed replacement straps for their shuriken pouches?
Who wished they had snacks after sparring?
Every complaint was a potential sale.
Beyond that, I watched as the village's economy began to shift.
With the war looming, supply chains were getting tighter, and demand for shinobi gear was rising.
Prices fluctuated based on availability. I couldn't afford bulk investments yet, but I was tracking the patterns.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling through my nose.
The store was stable.
The partnership was reliable.
The money wasn't much yet, but it was mine and mine alone.
More importantly, it was a step forward.
Still, I couldn't afford to be complacent.
The village was changing. The war was heating up, and whether they admitted it or not, the Academy was shifting in response and I needed to be ready.
"Murakami-kun, can I have a word?" The sound of my name sounded, causing me to turn to the speaker. Matsuda-sensei.
"Hai." I replied and stood up following right behind him.
We walked through the corridors in a comfortable silence until we reached the instructors' area where we walked towards his desk and took our seats facing each other.
This was not the first time he'd called me for discussions such as this.
"Murakami-kun, I'm sure you already know this considering your observational skills but I'm still going to say it. There is a storm looming beyond the horizon. With Lord Hashirama's death, a power vacuum has been created and the previously silent villages are beginning to show their true faces." Matsuda-sensei began and wow, did he know how to present his case.
His expression turned grim, probably recalling a painful memory, but I kept silent without a change in my expression. "This is not something I'd disclose to just anyone but I'm sure you're already aware of it as well as the consequences."
His gaze bore into mine but I didn't flinch and nodded causing him to hold his gaze before chuckling. "This kid. You got one scary gaze, you know that?"
"I've heard." Was all I said. Who wouldn't think that when considering the current situation.
"Then you should also understand how important your growth is to the village?" He asked and I nodded before shaking my head.
"Although I appreciate your faith in me, I'll have to disappoint you, Sensei." I replied, looking him in the eye to enunciate how important this was.
"And why is that?"
"I'm a kid, and a civilian one at that. No special bloodline or heritage. Just one of many unfortunate orphans in this part of the world." I shrugged my shoulders. "Not to mention, what does this war have to do with me?"
I could feel the gazes around me change abruptly.
Uh-Oh.
Looks like I touched a nerve so I coughed slightly and continued. "Don't get me wrong, Sensei. My father always told me this whenever we looked at Lord Hashirama's face on the mountain; "Listen Mu-chin, when you grow and I'm not around to protect you, look up to that face and have courage."
I could feel the gazes turn friendly and sympathetic immediately so I continued so as not to waste the momentum.
"I never really understood it but after their death, I did. It is the responsibility of those who are strong to become the umbrella of protection to those weaker than them."
"Parents protect their families and the Hokage protects the Village."
"What use would I be if I rushed to grow up only to be among the many unfortunate Shinobi who are dead? The village doesn't need another dead shinobi. It needs strong ones, and strength isn't just about how fast you graduate."
Take that argument and come up with a rebuttal, you zealots!
"...Is that so?" Matsuda-sensei asked with an expression even I couldn't decipher.
I could only nod to that question and immediately, the gaze all around me softened and turned away.
Damn loyalists.
They always melted at the mention of the Hokage or "duty."
Don't get me wrong though, I wasn't against the village.
Konoha gave me food, shelter, and a place to exist. I had a sense of belonging here, for now.
But that loyalty only ran as deep as the village's own usefulness. The day Konoha stopped protecting its own… that would be the day I stopped calling it home.
No need to think too much about it, let the future me decide on that.
"If that's how you see it, then I can't let you be promoted after all." His words were final, but there was something in his expression, a knowing look that told me this conversation wasn't truly over.
It was only just beginning.
Sigh. I've gone and done it again haven't I?
...