Morning sunlight crept through the cracks, brushing lightly against Eiji's face. His eyes fluttered open with a small wince.
His body felt sore, the good kind of sore, but still enough to remind him of last night's training.
He rubbed his arms slowly.
"Urgh… My body feels like it's been slammed by a bus."
He slipped out of his futon quietly so he wouldn't wake the others. Kota was drooling onto his pillow, mumbling something about an evil spoon again. Mizu had somehow kicked off her blanket and was curled up in the corner, so Eiji gently pulled it back over her.
He walked downstairs and the matron glanced at him from the stove.
"You're awake a little early," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Just… wanted to wash up before the others," he replied.
She nodded slowly, studying him a little too closely. "Don't push yourself. I'm watching you."
"I know."
He ate breakfast with the others. Simple rice, pickles, and miso soup. Nothing fancy, but warm. The matron kept glancing his way, checking if he was pale or dizzy. It made him feel both grateful and guilty.
After the meal, the kids burst out into their usual morning chaos, arguing about who stole whose wooden toy, chasing the squirrel (again), and dragging laundry baskets across the floor. Eiji slipped quietly toward the backyard.
He stretched first. Arms. Legs. Back. Neck.
The movements felt natural, familiar from his past life. and maybe because he was still a child, he could now stretch farther than before.
"Okay… twenty squats," he muttered as he got ready.
He made it to thirteen before his legs trembled so badly he had to stop. He sank onto the grass, catching his breath.
"…Fine. Thirteen for today."
Push-ups were even worse. His arms wobbled immediately and he collapsed onto the dirt after four.
"Seven…? Not bad I guess."
But he didn't quit. He just sat for a moment, letting his heart slow. He watched the sunlight flicker through the leaves, warm and gentle over the yard.
"This body's still weak. But that's fine… it'll grow."
He stood again when the shaking calmed and began small jogs around the yard, small added movements, keeping balance, just letting his body wake up. His breath became heavier with each lap.
He wasn't chasing strength overnight, he was building habits.
After a short break, he picked up the tiny woven basket he'd found beside the orphanage.
"Just around the edge," he reminded himself quietly as he approached the forest.
Kids in Konoha grew up knowing forests weren't just forests. They held animals, insects, sometimes even wandering shinobi on patrol. Nothing too dangerous near the village, but still not a place to wander carelessly.
He stepped past the first row of trees slowly, careful to remember every path, road, and marking.
It was quieter here. Cooler. The shade wrapped around him like a soft blanket, and the ground felt different, looser soil, bits of fallen leaves.
Eiji crouched near a patch of green plants.
"Okay… let's see…"
He compared it to what he sometimes sees the matron bringing home from the market.
"Smooth leaves. Mild scent. This one should be safe."
He picked a few. Not too many.
A faint rustle above him made him pause. He glanced up.
A branch swayed gently.
Not a bird, it wasn't a squirell. It seemed like it was just the branch moving.
"Huh…."
He shrugged it off. The forest always had strange noises. And besides, he was five. His senses weren't that sharp.
He walked deeper, only a few more steps, until he saw some berries. He recognized these too. The matron once scolded a kid for bringing it home.
'Don't eat those, it will make your tummy hurt for days!'
Eiji stepped around them.
A small mushroom hid under a fallen log. Pale cap. Thin stem.
"…This one seems like an edible mushroom." he said, remembering from his past life.
But familiarity wasn't enough to guarantee safety. So he picked only one and placed it carefully in the corner of the basket.
"Matron can check. Better be safe."
He continued scanning the area when a soft feeling crept up his spine. Like someone's eyes on him. He straightened and looked around cautiously.
"…Hello?"
No answer.
Just the ever present rustling of leaves.
"…Probably nothing."
He turned back. The forest never felt threatening, but it carried… presence. Something old and untouched.
By the time he emerged from the tree line again, the basket held a few greens, mushrooms, and berries. But that was fine.
Small steps.
After returning to the orphanage, Eiji placed the basket with his gathering somewhere near the back entrance.
The matron noticed him at the doorway and frowned slightly.
"…Eiji, where did you get these, did you go in the forest?"
"Just the edge," he said quietly. "I only picked a few. Can you check if they're okay?"
She sighed but crouched beside the basket. Her fingers were gentle as she sifted through the leaves and berries.
"These are fine… these too…" She paused at the mushroom. "Don't pick this kind unless you're a hundred percent sure, Eiji. It's edible, but too easy to confuse with another poisonous kind."
"Okay Matron," Eiji said. "I'll make sure."
That earned him a small sigh… and a smaller smile.
"Good thing you're such a careful boy," she murmured. "make sure you are always safe, alright?"
He nodded.
"Matron… can I go to the village for a bit?" he asked. "Not far. Just the market street."
She gave him that familiar suspicious look that all adults use when a child is planning to do something.
"For what?"
"Just… looking around. Learning things."
A beat of silence.
"Be back before lunch," she said slowly as she got up.
"I will."
He placed the basket inside the kitchen and slipped his sandals on before she could change her mind.
The village streets were already buzzing.
Vendors setting up stalls, kids running, people chatting while hanging laundry. A dog was barking at absolutely nothing.
Eiji kept a small distance from the crowd at first, watching.
"Fish prices went up again, the river's running weird."
"Herbs near the stream grow faster this season."
"We're short on hands at the carpenter's shop. Even a kid could help fetch tools."
Bit by bit, pieces of information slid into place in his mind.
Fishing… herbs… small chores…
Maybe he could help the orphanage sooner than he thought.
He approached one of the older vendors. A kind-looking woman selling vegetables. He'd met her before. She always gave the kids a small discount when the matron bought in bulk.
"Obaa-san," he said politely.
She blinked down at him. "Oh? What's this? If it isn't the little gentleman from the orphanage, why are you here alone dear, where's the Matron?"
He scratched the back of his head. "Why thank you very much Obaa-san, the matron is back at the orphanage, I'm here to look around"
"Oh that's wonderful, Now what can I help you with dear?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go on."
"How do I know which greens and herbs are safe and worth more? And which ones are… um… not really useful?"
The woman laughed, not unkindly.
"Thinking of foraging, dear?"
"Just learning," he said.
She pointed at her crates. "These sell well because they're edible, clean, and fresh. That's another thing that's important besides variety. These ones here-" she tapped the thinner-leafed greens "-grow plenty in the forest, and they sell fast even if it's not too valuable."
"How about mushrooms?"
"Mushrooms? Only gather what you know and make sure they are not poisonous. Certain mushrooms are eaten or made into medicine, those usually sell for more, as a general rule, avoid the ones with bright colors unless you are making a poison or some types of medicine."
Eiji nodded, committing every word to memory.
He spent the next hour helping whoever needed help. Lifting a small crate here, fetching a bucket of water, holding a stray chicken while the owner chased after its siblings. No money involved, but adults relaxed more around helpful kids. They talked casually.
"Fishing with the chin of smaller fishes works wonders."
"These days, chanterelle mushrooms grow a lot better under the shade near dead trees."
"I heard the blacksmith needed more wood to make charcoal."
Every bit mattered.
The information painted a picture of possibilities in his mind.
As he wandered around.
"Huh, I should really go to the library"
He reached the library, a big building holding precious knowledge he needed right now.
He hesitated at the entrance until the librarian spotted him.
"What are you waiting for, kid?."
She smiled kindly. "Come in, come in. We're always open for young readers."
He bowed slightly.
"…Thank you ma'am."
He walked along the lower shelves, scanning titles until he found ones with pictures and simple text. Books about edible plants. Books about safe riverside fishing. Books about hunting, and many more.
He sat cross-legged on the floor and read slowly.
"This leaf grows in clusters… safe."
"This berry stains blue rubbed against wood… not safe."
"Watchout for snake holes, avoid always…"
"Animal tracks to recognize…"
He stayed longer than he meant to.
By the time he returned the books, the librarian chuckled.
"You read seriously for someone so young."
Eiji's ears warmed slightly.
"I… want to learn a lot ma'am."
"That's a good thing," she said gently. "Come back anytime, our doors are always open to young enthusiastic readers like you."
"Thank you ma'am"
He bowed again before leaving.
Back at the orphanage after lunch, the noise of children playing reached him before he even stepped inside. Something about that sound made him relax.
He walked through the yard, found a sturdy stick and brought some rope, and sat under the tree with it. Using the simple diagrams from aa survival book, he tested different lengths, knots, and weights. He didn't have real supplies yet, but imagining the mechanics helped a little.
He tied a crude knot.
"…Too loose."
He tried again.
"…Still not good."
By the fifth attempt, he finally got a loop that didn't slip.
He smiled faintly. "Okay… better."
As he practiced, he felt the leaves rustling a bit louder than usual.
He glanced up.
A tall tree swayed slightly. No wind.
Branches shifted.
Leaves rustled faintly.
"…Probably just a squirrel," he muttered. But his shoulders stayed tense for a moment longer.
He shook his head. "Don't overthink."
He went back to practicing knots and designing traps, doing some exercise in between.
When the sun lowered and the sky softened into gold, he stood up and brushed the dirt from his clothes.
Tomorrow he would try again, harder exercises, better balance, smarter foraging, maybe even a test fishing line or a simple trap if he could gather materials.
Little steps.
Quiet steps.
But steps forward.
(To Be Continued)
A/N
If you want to read ahead, you can follow my journey while supporting me at;
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