'Seriously, just how much word padding have they managed to cram into these books?!' Ryo screamed internally, his eyes scanning the same paragraph for the third time.
When he first picked up the introductory book on chakra training, he had assumed the text might be complex or archaic. Since he hadn't fully regained his past memories, his accumulated knowledge and wisdom remained frustratingly incomplete, resurfacing in his mind at a snail's pace. However, the complexity of the language wasn't the issue. The real problem was the sheer volume of excessive, irrelevant information designed to drive any rational mind into overdrive.
For instance, he had to navigate through no fewer than fifty tedious allegories in a single volume just to extract the basic mechanics of the leaf concentration exercise. And that wasn't even the most egregious example! Another book, which supposedly covered the fundamentals of the tree-climbing practice, was practically unbearable. Even though he respected the legendary status of Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage, he couldn't fathom why he was forced to read epic, flowery poems about the man's childhood in a technical manual here of all places..
The current book he was struggling through—a guide on water-surface walking—was truly grinding his gears. In the span of a few chapters, he had been forced to read about culinary recipes centered around soups and stew, a detailed history of the Land of Mist, a tale regarding Tobirama Senju rule as Nidaime Hokage, the genealogy of the Hozuki clan, the old tales of the one eye turtle abomination now known as Three-Tails, the rise of the Funato clan, various pirate legends, and the climate of the Land of Snow… all in a book meant to teach him how to stand on a stream!
If the librarian hadn't been sitting right there, he would have definitely hurled the book across the room. He felt a deep, simmering resentment at being so mentally exhausted at the ripe old age of four.
"Quit fuming, kid. It's already night, so pack it up," the librarian reminded him. She was already gathering her personal belongings and tossing her bags over her shoulder, ready to lock up.
Ryo simply nodded with a tired sigh and stood up to leave. Despite the fluff, he had managed to extract the actual gist of the exercises.
"Also, kid, don't bother showing up before 11:00 AM tomorrow. I won't be here a minute earlier," she added as he reached the door. He gave another silent nod before turning out into the cool night air.
'Actually, that's not bad timing,' he mused. He wouldn't be allowed to leave the orphanage before the communal breakfast anyway, so he wouldn't be wasting any time.
Walking back, he remained completely oblivious to the gazes he received from above. It took him about thirty minutes to reach the orphanage, and he slipped through the gates just in time to avoid a scolding for being late. He felt fortunate that his home was relatively close to the academy; he remembered helping the Matron—or Okaa-san, as they called her—visit other orphanages located far beyond the village's habitable boundary.
His proximity meant more time for reading, especially since the other orphans here were still "kids" in the truest, most energetic sense of the word, so he can not concentrate if they interrupt him. A few of them noticed him the moment he crossed the outer boundary.
"Yo, Ryo! Where have you been hiding?"
"Yeah, we haven't seen you since you headed off to the academy. We thought you'd gotten lost!"
"You missed out, man! Sora actually tried to propose to Megumi today after the graduation ceremony. You should have seen his face when she absolutely roasted him—she started listing every single insult she'd been saving up. It was hilarious!"
'Indeed, it seems I missed a great deal of petty drama,' Ryo thought dryly.
"Eh, I wasn't doing much, just catching up on some reading," Ryo replied, skillfully steering the conversation as they walked inside. "How are the others holding up? You know, Yuki and Bo, since they didn't get admitted?"
"Pretty bad," one of the girls recounted, her expression darkening as she remembered Fukashi's battered face. "They're still incredibly upset. Some of them even picked fights with the other kids in the orphanage and got beaten up pretty badly."
"The ones from Class Honor?" Ryo asked.
"Yep. Those kids were grinning all day long. At one point, they were literally rubbing salt in the wound—right on Fukashi's bruised face—"
CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!
"Dinner time!" Okaa-san yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing through the entire building and alerting every hungry soul in the vicinity.
The group cut their conversation short and scrambled toward the sinks to wash their hands. The hallway was a cacophony of voices.
"See, Naori? I told you I'd make it into Class Green!"
"Oh, shut up, Fuma. I get another chance next year, and I definitely won't be lazy next time."
'Press X to Doubt', Ryo thought automatically.
"Fukashi needs to keep his mouth shut; it's not like he was the only one who failed the entrance exam."
"Why are there even weird symbols on the exams anyway?! We want to be shinobi, why do we have to learn all this nerdy stuff?!"
"I am one step closer to becoming Hokage! Bow down before you face the wrath of Fuguki!"
'Press X to Doubt, again.'
'They are certainly lively tonight,' Ryo noted, drying his hands by shaking the excess water off. As they entered the dining hall and claimed a spot at a nearby empty table, a sudden scent caught him completely off guard.
"Eat up, children! The Sandaime-sama wanted us all to enjoy this special meal tonight. For those who were admitted and for those who weren't, I hope this brightens your day," Okaa-san said with a loving smile, her words instantly lifting the somber mood of the failures.
While everyone else cheered, Ryo remained silent, his internal "X" button hovering over the Hokage's supposed generosity.
'That is oddly generous of the old man,' he thought, cautiously chewing a piece of meat.
Usually, the orphanage meal plan was predictable and repetitive. Breakfast and lunch were typically a modest bowl of rice or soba, accompanied by miso soup, stir-fried legumes(peas), or natto, a single glass of milk, and either a boiled egg or some stir-fried seitan. If they had soba,natto and boiled eggs for breakfast, they got rice,peas and seitan for lunch, and vice versa. Dinner was usually the "leftovers" from the meat market—small fish, offal, or tough wild boar meat that genin teams had hunted on missions. These were items merchants couldn't sell enough before the sunset and would sell them cheap to the orphanage just before the meat spoiled on the same day.
But tonight's spread was undeniably extravagant. They were eating fresh wild boar—meat that was tender, and lacked the gamey, tough texture of their usual fare. It was genuinely delicious compared to what orphanages are used to having.
"So good! I've already forgotten why I was even sad about the academy."
"This is definitely a meal fitting for someone of my caliber," Fukashi bragged, his mouth full.
"Fukashi would enjoy the meal more if he actually knew his place."
"Thank you, Sandaime-sama, for the food!"
While the others sang praises of the meat, Ryo offered a few hollow words of appreciation just to blend in. However, his gut told him something was fundamentally off as he was mentally pressing X to doubt.
'I've never heard of them doing something like this from seniors and orphanage staff here, not since after the First Shinobi World War. So, what changed?' he wondered, realizing there was a significant gap in his current information to understand the change of context.
He knew the only reason Konoha looked after their dietary needs at all,unlike the orphanage he used to live in his past lives, was because no orphan was allowed to opt out of the shinobi program. Yet, providing them with high-quality, fresh meat out of the blue didn't feel like a simple gesture of kindness.
He still occupied the small, developing body of a four-year-old, which limited his ability to investigate or draw hard conclusions. For now, all he could do was remain wary of the sudden, "selfless" kindness the orphanage had begun to show.