Sakura Haruno is Usefull

White steam filled the bathroom, and Sakura soaked comfortably in the bathtub, washing away her fatigue from running. She lifted her small hand from the water, creating ripples. Soaking in the hot water, her six-year-old hand looked very pink and tender.

With her mind calm, Sakura could feel that her chakra had almost fully recovered, and the excess chakra was automatically gathering toward the center of her forehead.

But just as her nerves finally relaxed, she felt a slight tension return.

Sixteen-year-old Haruno Sakura is strong, but even that strength may be limited when facing Konoha. She couldn't allow herself to relax too much...

"Sakura, you're going to be late," called Haruno Meiko, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Coming, Mom!" Sakura answered.

When Haruno Sakura arrived in the classroom, her hair was still slightly damp, and it was almost time for class to begin.

"Sakura, did you shower?" Ino asked, noticing Sakura's pink hair still a little wet.

"Yes, I exercised this morning and took a shower," Sakura replied. "Looks like I didn't manage my time well. I'll have to get up earlier next time."

Without much thought, Sakura brushed aside a strand of hair that was blocking her vision and responded to Ino with a chuckle.

Wow, Sakura is so diligent… Ino thought, feeling a little disheartened.

"Why are you taking things so seriously, Sakura? Wouldn't it be better if you just spent time with us?" Ino didn't understand why Sakura was working so hard. She had only received the study materials yesterday and had already started practicing.

Sakura glanced around the classroom.

There were only about twenty students, but most were from various ninja clans. Among them were the "Rookie Nine." Besides herself, six of the remaining eight were heirs to their respective ninja clans, with two representing the Hokage and the last Uchiha.

In terms of background, Sakura had the least.

In terms of resources, Sakura had the least.

She was merely a civilian ninja.

If she wanted to reach the top, to command respect in a world that valued bloodlines, she had to work a little harder.

"Ino, actually, we are…"

Before Sakura could finish her sentence, a dry towel fell on her head.

"Dry your hair, or you'll catch a cold," said Iruka-sensei with a gentle look at the little girl with wet hair.

"Thank you, Iruka-sensei." Sakura gratefully wiped her hair and thanked him.

"What were you going to say?" Ino asked, curious.

"We're lifelong friends," Sakura smiled, answering Ino's question.

"Aww, sneaky! That's not what you were going to say just now," Ino protested, playfully grabbing the towel off Sakura's head.

"I know that without you saying it," Ino replied, then started drying Sakura's hair herself, as if it were a matter of course.

Feeling Ino's gentle movements, Sakura couldn't help but smile.

Maybe I'm overthinking it. It's clear that Ino and I are the same kind of people.

Unlike her usual self, Sakura wasn't paying attention to Iruka's lecture today. She was reading other textbooks.

She already knew what Iruka was covering today from her studies last night.

Time passed, and the morning class finally ended. During that time, Iruka had turned a blind eye to Sakura's "absent" behavior.

"Today's training will be physical training, so make sure to prepare and remember not to eat too much," Iruka announced.

At his words, a collective groan arose in the classroom.

Physical training at the Ninja Academy wasn't as easy as gym class had been in Sakura's previous life.

This was training meant to push the physical strength of these future ninjas to their limits.

Or, it could be seen as training them to the brink, as long as their bodies could handle it.

"And especially for those at the back—don't even think about skipping class," Iruka said, knocking on his desk. "I'm talking about you guys: Naruto, Kiba, Shikamaru, and Choji."

The boys named by Iruka froze, their thoughts of escaping immediately dashed.

"Sakura, this afternoon's training is going to be brutal…" Ino lamented to her as Iruka left the room.

"Well, there's no avoiding it," Sakura replied, closing her textbook and giving Ino a resigned smile as she leaned closer.

Ino suddenly leaned in and sniffed Sakura's hair, her warm breath making Sakura's neck feel ticklish.

"Sakura, you smell nice…" Ino remarked. "What shampoo do you use?"

At lunchtime, Sakura didn't eat outside as she usually did. Instead, she flipped through "The Will of Fire of the First Hokage" while eating rice balls her mother had made.

No one knew where Ino had gone, but her place had been taken by someone else.

"Hey, Sakura! Here's some tempura I made using the recipe you gave me yesterday," Naruto said with a grin, opening a lunchbox he'd clearly bought recently.

Looking at the less-than-ideal tempura, Sakura glanced at Naruto in surprise.

He actually put effort into cooking...

Sakura accepted his offer and picked up a fried prawn with the chopsticks Naruto handed her.

Truthfully, the taste wasn't great.

"It's good. It'd be even better with a little less salt," she said, offering her honest feedback. Sakura preferred lighter flavors, so Naruto's seasoning was a bit heavy.

"I'll do better next time!" Naruto responded, cheering up.

"Since when did they get so close…?" At the window, three faces lined up to observe.

Kiba, painted with red markings on his face, looked at Sakura and Naruto with suspicion.

"It does look a bit odd," he said.

"But when did Naruto learn to cook? I really want to try it!" Choji commented, munching on potato chips, his gaze locked on Sakura's lunchbox.

"It's obvious—Naruto likes Sakura, but Sakura doesn't feel that way," Shikamaru added, his expression bored as he observed Sakura, whose attention was solely on her book.

But now that I think about it, Sakura is impressive. She's planning to skip a grade.

The dark-haired boy with a "pineapple" hairstyle had noticed Sakura's book—it wasn't part of their current curriculum.

That meant she really had permission to study ahead, and Iruka hadn't stopped her all morning, a clear sign he supported her plan to skip a grade.

Their class would soon have its first prodigy.