There's a heavy atmosphere across the village today; everyone's on edge. Word's gotten out that the war's about to start – the First Shinobi War. A sense of depression's settled over the village like a shroud. No one's in the mood for work; the usual bustle's replaced with anxious whispers. Villagers are stressed; nobody wants to go to war, but it's happening. They're preparing for war, and every ninja's gearing up too.
The three family members were having lunch together, enjoying a rare happy moment, when Suzuki's call broke the news: "Honey and Haruto, the war's started." The mood immediately turned somber. His wife looked upset; her husband was leaving for war. The joyful atmosphere vanished like smoke. Everything was going well, but war called, and he had to answer. It was his duty; what else could he do?
He looked at his son, Haruto, and said, "I've found a teacher for you. We'll meet him tomorrow. I know you're a mature kid; I don't need to look after you. Still, take care of your mother. The teacher's a bit... tough, but you're a Senju too." His eyes lingered on Haruto, a mix of pride and worry.
After that, there was silence at the dining table. Everyone ate quietly, visibly troubled. The weight of the war hung over them like a storm cloud. Once dinner was over, they all retired to their rooms, the sound of scraping chopsticks echoing through the empty hall.
Haruto, now in his room, was serious and in a foul mood. He knew he couldn't do anything about it – he's just a year-and-a-half-old kid. He's not grown up, has no power, nothing. All he has is some foreknowledge of the future, but what's the use of that? The main story's still a long way off. He lay on his bed, tiny fists clenched, feeling helpless and frustrated .