Year of Establishment: The Second Year of Konoha's Founding
Kenichi Sato's Age: 6 Years
April was in full bloom, and the sun gently touched the leaves as if welcoming the young children on their first day at the academy. We passed by a carpentry workshop building a new wooden fence, the scent of freshly cut timber filling the air, mingling with the sound of hammers and the shouts of children training in an open field. Just days after the system's voice echoed in Kenichi's head, he began to sense that this world moved to an invisible rhythm, preparing him for something greater. Konoha was still young, but today felt like a sacred rite — a moment of transition from innocence to responsibility.
In the academy yard, built with sturdy new wood, dozens of children stood in a long line — some laughing, others yawning, many gazing with a mix of curiosity and fear. Among them stood Kenichi, unmoving.
From the outside, he looked like any other child. But within him was a soul in its thirties, observing the scene with a critical, analytical eye. Nothing was left to chance. The sun's angle, the number of instructors, the way the students were arranged — all were registered by his heightened senses.
This was the beginning of the path. If not for the strongest, then for the smartest.
The voice of the first teacher, "Takuma-sensei," rose above the children's heads, welcoming them. He was a young man with stern features, but his eyes held a rare warmth. He spoke about the meaning of being a ninja, the responsibility to protect, and the importance of belonging to the village.
Kenichi listened attentively — not to the words, but to the body language, the tone, the subtle attempts at psychological guidance hidden in the welcome speech.
The children were then assigned to classrooms. Kenichi chose the last seat by the window, as he had always done in his previous life — not for the drama, but for the strategic vantage point.
During the first recess, he stood alone under a small tree in the yard. The other children ran, shouted, exchanged blows in playful combat. Kenichi simply watched them silently, thinking, "They fought over who gets to sit in the front row… while I was analyzing the pattern of desk placements."
"You're weird."
The voice came from behind him. A boy with short hair and a slim build stood there, but his posture held a quiet confidence. His wide brown eyes sparkled with rare intelligence for his age.
Kenichi turned slowly. "And you're observant."
The boy smiled. "I'm Hiruzen. Hiruzen Sarutobi. My dad works in the guard force, but he always says I talk more than I fight."
Kenichi chuckled lightly. "That might be a good thing… Sometimes, talking can save your life."
The two sat beneath the tree. Hiruzen started firing off questions non-stop.
"Where are you from? Why aren't you playing with them? Do you like ninjutsu? Is your chakra big or small?"
Kenichi replied calmly, "I'm observing… learning how they think, how they move."
After a brief pause, Hiruzen said, "You remind me of my grandpa when he stares into the fire. His eyes look calm… but his mind's burning."
Kenichi laughed more this time. "And you? Want to be a ninja?"
"Of course! But not just any ninja… I want to be the best — maybe even Hokage one day!"
And just like that, without any preamble, his first true friendship in this world began.
In the following weeks, a routine began to form: morning lectures, physical training, chakra control exercises. Everything seemed simple to the other students, but to Kenichi, it was a treasure trove of information.
He began building a mental database of everyone around him — who excelled, who hid talent, who avoided effort, who rushed in without thinking. Even the teachers — he watched their speech patterns and skill levels while demonstrating techniques.
He quickly mastered transformation and clone techniques, but deliberately made small mistakes to avoid drawing attention.
One day, after a physical training session, a teacher approached him and said, "Sato Kenichi, it's okay to try a little harder. Don't be so shy."
Kenichi smiled quietly and replied, "I'm doing my best, sensei."
But inwardly, he was taking notes:
"Instructor Kaji favors encouraging the weak publicly… attempts to push them through social pressure. Note: don't appear too weak or I'll be forced into a test."
In one class, a teacher whispered to another, "That quiet kid… doesn't move much, but he doesn't miss a thing."
At night, after his parents went to bed, he would sneak out to train in the backyard. He didn't push his body too hard, knowing from his past life that a child's frame couldn't withstand extreme stress.
Since that strange voice first spoke to him that morning, Kenichi had been waiting for it to return. His mother had sent him off that day with a proud smile, not realizing she was bidding farewell to his childhood forever. And on the tenth of April, when he returned from the academy and sat in his room, the voice echoed once more in his mind:
> [Golden Lottery Draw Activated – First Year Reward Ready for Collection.]
He froze for a moment, then a transparent window appeared in the air before him, like a screen made of light:
[Would you like to draw now?]
He exhaled slowly, and smiled.
"Let's begin the real game."
He reached out toward the light.
And as his finger touched the glow, he had no idea yet… that this first reward would change the course of his life forever.
He understood then: he wouldn't live his childhood — he would march through it like a soldier into his first battle.
End of Chapter Two.