[POV - NODA MISAKI]
The first hint of dawn crept through the small window of our one-room apartment as I carefully folded the blanket I shared with my little brother Taro. Mother was already awake, moving quietly around our tiny kitchen area so she wouldn't disturb Father's sleep. He needed all the rest he could get.
"Good morning, Misaki-chan," Mother whispered, her voice tired but warm. "I made extra rice porridge for your lunch today."
I smiled and bowed quietly. "Thank you, Mother."
She pressed a small wrapped bundle into my hands, the same clean cloth we used every day, carefully washed each evening. Inside would be simple rice porridge with pickled vegetables, maybe a small piece of fish if we were lucky. Other Academy students brought elaborate lunches with multiple dishes, but Mother's porridge always tasted perfect to me.
"How is Father this morning?" I asked softly, glancing toward the corner where he slept on his futon.
"His leg is bothering him more with the cold weather," Mother said, lines of worry creasing her face. "But he's determined to help Mrs. Sato with her roof repair today."
I felt that familiar tightness in my chest. Father pushed himself too hard, trying to work despite his war injury. The leg that never healed properly made most jobs impossible, but he refused to just sit idle while Mother worked multiple cleaning jobs to pay for his medicine.
"I could skip Academy today and help," I offered, though I knew what Mother would say.
"Absolutely not," she said firmly, but not unkindly. "Your education is the most important thing. Everything we're working for is so you and Taro can have better futures."
I nodded, understanding. The Academy was free, but everything else cost money we didn't have. Books, extra equipment, proper winter clothes. I made do with what the Academy provided and tried not to think about what other students took for granted.
After helping Mother prepare breakfast and making sure little Taro was settled with his morning lessons, I gathered my Academy bag and checked my appearance one more time. My uniform was clean and mended invisibly where needed - the dark blue fabric carefully patched at the elbow where I'd torn it weeks ago, the stitching so neat it was almost impossible to see. My long black hair was braided back in a simple style that would stay neat through the day's activities. My clothes might be mended and my lunch simple, but I looked like any other Academy student, which was exactly what Mother wanted.
The walk to the Academy took me through parts of the village I knew other students never saw. Past the small apartments where war widows lived with too many children in too little space. Past the construction sites where disabled veterans like Father found whatever work they could. Past the early morning food lines where families waited quietly for subsidized rice.
But I also walked past signs of recovery. New buildings rising where old ones had been damaged. Small businesses reopening with fresh paint and hopeful signs. Children playing in courtyards, their laughter bright in the morning air. The village was healing, slowly but surely.
The Academy grounds bustled with arriving students, and I felt the familiar mix of gratitude and anxiety that came with walking through those gates. Gratitude because education here was truly merit-based, regardless of family background. Anxiety because I was always aware of how different my circumstances were from most of my classmates.
"Misaki!" Hana called out, waving me over to where she stood with several other standard track students. "Did you finish the chakra theory homework?"
"Yes," I said, pulling out my carefully written notes. "Did you want to compare answers?"
What I didn't mention was that I'd spent two hours after my evening cleanup job working by candlelight because we couldn't afford to burn lamp oil late into the night.
"Your handwriting is so neat," said Jiro, looking over my shoulder at the assignment. "I can barely read my own notes."
"Thank you," I said, pleased. Good handwriting didn't cost anything extra, and taking care with my work was something I could control even when so many other things felt uncertain.
The morning assembly was led by Instructor Suda, who announced the schedule for the day's regular classes. My heart lifted when I remembered that some of the Advanced Foundations students often gathered in the side courtyard after classes for informal practice sessions. Yesterday's session with Mei had been incredibly helpful, and she'd promised to bring those theory notes she'd mentioned.
Our first class was basic chakra control with Instructor Haname. We worked on leaf-sticking exercises, and I was proud when my leaf stayed attached for almost twenty-five seconds. It wasn't as long as some students managed, but it was steady improvement from yesterday's ten seconds after Mei's help.
"Excellent progress, Misaki," Instructor Haname said encouragingly. "Your chakra flow is becoming much more consistent."
The compliment made me glow with pride. Consistent practice was something I could do, even if I didn't have fancy training equipment at home. Every evening after helping Mother with dinner and cleaning, I practiced the exercises Tetsuya and Mei had shown me, using leaves from the small tree outside our apartment. Yesterday's cooperation session had really helped me understand the theory behind the technique.
During the break between classes, I noticed Kozaki Naoto showing off his new practice kunai to a group of impressed students. Naoto was a boy about my age with carefully styled brown hair. The Kunai was clearly expensive, with decorative wooden handles.
"My father says these has the same weight and balance as the ones real jōnin use," Naoto was saying proudly. "He had them specially made so I can practice properly at home."
Several students gathered around to admire the kunai, and I felt a familiar pang of something that wasn't quite jealousy but wasn't quite acceptance either. Naoto wasn't a bad person, exactly, but he had a way of making sure everyone knew about his family's wealth.
"Misaki-chan," came a quiet voice behind me. I turned to see Hayato, the war orphan who stayed with his distant relatives. He was a thin boy with serious dark eyes that seemed too old for his seven-year-old face. His auburn hair was cut short and practical, probably by whoever was caring for him rather than a proper barber. His clothes was clean but showed wear, the fabric slightly faded, the edges carefully hemmed where it had been taken in to fit his smaller frame. He rarely spoke to anyone, and when he did, it was usually to decline offers of help.
"Yes, Hayato-kun?"
"You dropped this," he said, holding out my pencil. It must have fallen from my bag during the break.
"Thank you," I said gratefully. "I would have been in trouble without it."
Hayato nodded curtly and started to walk away, but something made me call after him.
"Hayato-kun, are you planning to attend the cooperation session this afternoon?"
He stopped and looked back at me with guarded eyes. "Why?"
"I thought... maybe we could practice together? Yesterday was really helpful, and I think working with partners makes the exercises easier."
For a moment, his expression softened slightly. "Maybe," he said finally. "If I don't have to help at home after classes."
It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't his usual automatic no either. I smiled and nodded, understanding the uncertainty that came with never knowing when family obligations might interfere with Academy activities.
The rest of the morning passed with lessons in village history and basic taijutsu forms. I listened carefully to every word and took detailed notes, knowing that what I learned here might be my only chance to study these subjects properly. Other students had tutors or family members who could help with homework, but for me, the Academy classes themselves were my primary education.
During lunch, I found a quiet spot to eat my rice porridge while reviewing my morning notes. Other students gathered in groups, sharing elaborate meals and chatting about their families' activities. I didn't feel lonely exactly, but I was always aware of being somewhat apart from the casual conversations about shopping trips, family celebrations, or expensive training equipment.
"Mind if I sit here?" asked a familiar voice. I looked up to see Yuki approaching with her lunch box and a friendly smile.
"Of course not," I said, making room on the stone bench.
Yuki settled beside me and unwrapped a lunch that smelled amazing, multiple dishes arranged in a pretty box. But she didn't make a show of it or comment on the difference between our meals.
"Did you see what happened during Instructor Haname's class this morning?" she asked between bites. "When Naoto tried to show off his new kunai and accidentally threw it into the wall?"
I giggled, remembering the embarrassed look on his face. "The instructor wasn't very happy about the scratch marks in the practice room wall."
"At least he's getting better at the basic throws," Yuki said charitably. "Remember how badly he was missing the targets last month?"
"Everyone's improving," I agreed. "Even Jiro seems more confident during sparring practice now."
"Speaking of improvement, your leaf-sticking time this morning was really good," Yuki said. "I saw you hit twenty-five seconds!."
I felt proud. "Mei-san's explanations really helped yesterday. She has this way of explaining the theory that makes everything click. I managed twenty seconds during the cooperation session."
"That's amazing progress for just one day of help," Yuki said with genuine admiration. "You're really dedicated, I can tell you practice a lot at home."
I smiled, pleased that my hard work was noticeable. "I just want to do well. Every second of improvement feels like such an achievement."
The conversation drifted to our upcoming practical exercises and whether we'd see the Advanced Foundations students practicing their more advanced techniques again. Yuki had a way of making me feel included without drawing attention to our different circumstances, and I found myself looking forward to building friendships like this.
The afternoon brought practical skills training, where we worked on basic weapons handling and formation exercises. I was grateful for the Academy's equipment loan program, which meant I could use proper practice weapons instead of trying to make do with improvised alternatives at home.
"Remember, the key to kunai throwing is consistency, not power," Instructor Haname explained as we lined up at the practice range. "Better to hit your target lightly every time than to miss with force."
I focused on her instructions, trying to apply the theoretical knowledge I'd studied. My first few throws went wide, but gradually I began to find the rhythm. By the end of the session, I was hitting the target circle more often than not.
Finally, the afternoon cooperation session arrived. Students from both tracks gathered in the Academy's side courtyard, and I looked around hopefully for Mei and the other Advanced Foundations students who had helped yesterday.
"There's Mei," Yuki pointed out, waving toward where the Advanced Foundations group was setting up for practice.
I approached somewhat nervously, remembering how grateful I'd been for her patient explanations yesterday. When Mei noticed me, her face brightened with what looked like genuine pleasure.
"Misaki! I brought those theory notes I promised," she said, pulling out several sheets of carefully written paper. "I tried to explain the chakra flow principles we discussed, plus some additional exercises you might find helpful."
I accepted the papers with both hands and a deep bow. "Thank you so much, Mei-san. This is incredibly generous."
"It's nothing," Mei said, though she looked pleased by my gratitude. "I enjoyed explaining things yesterday. You ask really good questions that show you're thinking about the deeper principles."
As the session got underway, I found myself working primarily with Mei again, while other students paired off for various exercises. She had me practice the leaf-sticking technique while explaining the theory behind chakra adhesion in more detail than any Academy class had covered.
"Remember what we worked on yesterday," Mei said, watching my attempts. "That slow and steady flow like filling a cup of water. You're already getting much better at maintaining consistent pressure."
Her reminder helped me focus, and I felt my chakra control improve noticeably. The leaf stayed attached for nearly thirty seconds on my next attempt.
"Excellent!" Mei said enthusiastically. "You're getting the concept much faster than I expected."
I glowed with pride, but also felt motivated to work even harder. If someone as talented as Mei thought I had potential, then maybe all the studying by candlelight and extra practice sessions were truly worth it.
The session continued with various exercises, and I noticed other Advanced Foundations students helping standard track children with different techniques. Tetsuya was working with a group on defensive stances, while Daisuke helped someone with balance exercises.
There was something wonderful about watching students from both tracks learning from each other, even though it was obvious that the Advanced Foundations children had significant advantages in training and ability. But instead of making it feel like an impossible gap, the cooperation sessions made advancement feel achievable through dedicated effort.
Toward the end of the session, I noticed Hayato standing at the edge of the group, watching but not participating. He'd come after all, but seemed uncertain about joining in.
"Hayato-kun," I called softly, careful not to draw too much attention. "Would you like to practice the chakra exercises with Mei-san and me?"
He hesitated, clearly torn between desire to learn and reluctance to accept help. Finally, he approached cautiously.
"This is Hayato," I told Mei. "He's in my regular classes and works really hard on the techniques."
Mei smiled welcomingly. "Hello, Hayato-kun. We were just working on steady chakra flow for leaf-sticking. Would you like to try?"
For the next twenty minutes, Mei patiently worked with both of us, explaining theory and offering corrections to our technique. Hayato proved to be a quick learner once he relaxed enough to focus properly, and by the end of the session, both of us had achieved our best leaf-sticking times yet.
"You both have really good potential," Mei said as we cleaned up our practice area. "The foundation is there, it just needs development through consistent practice."
"Thank you for teaching us," Hayato said quietly, his usual guardedness softened by genuine gratitude.
"Tomorrow?" I asked hopefully.
"Definitely," Mei nodded. "Same time, same place. And I'll try to think of some other exercises that might help you."
As the session ended and students began heading home, I felt happy and tired at the same time. The Academy was hard work, but I was getting better at things. And I had friends who helped me learn.
Walking home through the village streets, I waved at some of the people I recognized from my morning walk. The baker was closing his shop, and Mrs. Tanaka was sweeping in front of her vegetable stall. Everything looked the same as this morning.
At home, Mother was waiting with dinner prepared and genuine interest in hearing about my day. I told her about the successful chakra exercises, the theory notes Mei had given me, and the new techniques I'd learned.
"It sounds like you're making good friends," Mother said with satisfaction. "That's just as important as the academic learning."
"Mei-san says I have potential," I said proudly. "She thinks with consistent practice, I could master these techniques just as well as anyone."
Mother's tired face brightened with a smile that made all our family's struggles feel worthwhile. "Then we'll make sure you have every opportunity to practice and succeed."
Later that evening, after helping with dishes and making sure Taro was settled for sleep, I sat by our small window and carefully reviewed Mei's notes by moonlight. The writing was really neat, and she'd drawn little pictures to show how chakra should flow.
The best part was that she'd written "Good luck, Misaki-chan!" at the bottom with a little smiley face.