I turned seven. Consequently, I was double-promoted to the fourth grade.
The curriculum grew more challenging, but it was still child's play to me. At this point, navigating these lessons was as natural as breathing. My training, however, was a different story. It had hit a wall.
First, the growth of my "Quirk" had plateaued. While my capacity was increasing and I could do more with it, the progress was linear rather than explosive. As my father explained, a Quirk is a physical function; it grows like a muscle. There are no shortcuts—only the slow, steady grind of consistency. Since "Amplification" is a versatile tool, I wasn't too worried; I could train it anytime, anywhere.
The real issue was my Jedi training. Specifically, the lightsaber.
I have to admit, a wooden practice sword is a poor substitute for the real thing. It's fine for the fundamentals, but the moment you try to advance, the physical differences become a liability. The weight and the center of gravity are fundamentally different. On a lightsaber, the only weight is in the hilt. Furthermore, the plasma blade generates a gyroscopic effect—an "arc wave" that creates a distinct centrifugal pull. It requires a balance and a "feel" that a solid blade simply cannot replicate. I feared I was developing "bad habits" by over-relying on the wooden sword's weight, so I suspended my saber drills for the time being.
The conclusion was obvious: I needed a real lightsaber. Which meant it was time for the Gathering.
As I've mentioned, a traditional Gathering was impossible here. Instead, Anakin adapted the ritual: I had to find a Kyber crystal hidden somewhere in the city using only the Force. Because I was still a child, my "search area" was strictly limited to our local town, and my parents only let me wander once a week at most. It's a quiet, rural area; I thought finding the crystal would be a weekend's work.
I was wrong. I was struggling. Bitterly.
I have passed a Gathering once before. Feeling the song of a Kyber crystal through the Force should have been second nature. And yet, no matter how hard I reached out, the master's trial eluded me.
To make matters worse, Anakin changed the hiding spot every time I went out. This meant I couldn't rule out any location I'd already searched. I was trapped in a loop of failure.
The biggest problem was that I simply couldn't sense the crystal. Usually, if you are Force-sensitive and have held a crystal before, you should at least feel a pull—a hum in the back of your mind. Here? Nothing. I was blind.
"...Hm?"
One afternoon, while walking through the grounds of a local shrine (this country's religious landscape is baffling—shrines, temples, how many gods do they have exactly?), I stopped. A pigeon lay dead on the stone path.
I approached cautiously, checking the surroundings for danger. The bird's throat had been slit with a single, clean horizontal stroke. There was a significant amount of blood on the ground; it had clearly bled out. And yet, the bird itself was pristine. Its feathers were neatly preened, almost as if it had been groomed after its death.
I reached out with my senses. There was no lingering malice, no "Force disturbance" of someone fleeing. Whoever did this was long gone.
...I wished I had the gift of Psychometry—what some call a "Sense Echo." The ability to touch an object and see its history. But that is a rare talent, one I never possessed. I couldn't learn anything more from the carcass.
I called my father, who contacted the police. If it were a sick bird, I'd call animal control, but a clean kill suggested something more sinister. A person who practices on animals often moves on to larger prey. The police arrived, took my statement, and my Gathering for the day was effectively canceled.
Afterward, my father helped me bury the bird. His sect handles animal funerals too—they really are a "full-service" religion. I buried it in a quiet corner of the cemetery adjacent to the temple and offered a final word.
"May the Force be with you."
Weeks turned into months. Autumn faded, and the first chill of winter began to bite. My progress remained stalled.
Finally, Anakin spoke up.
"Alright, kid. Class is in session."
"Master? What do you mean?"