It seemed every story started the same way with that generation, remembering the attack on the village by the nine tails, the remembrance of all those that had been lost in the battle to save the hidden leaf, and the few memories the orphans of the war had of that fateful night. That night changed the hidden leaf as no one would have thought possible, it taught them to take care of those around them, to protect their loved ones from fear, and to put a lot more faith in those who wore the headband depicting their loyalties to the village. The shinobi were the heroes of many a tale, including this one, and much as many it starts on the night of the attack on the hidden leaf, a dark shadow looming over the village, a terrible monster ready to attack. Despite the many ninja that littered the streets it still seemed an impossible task, more and more joined the fight and even more fell as the attack continued, the innocent were hidden away, kept safe and locked up but that didn't mean there were few innocent casualties in this war.
A small home to the east of the village shook, a mother and father quickly gathering supplies raring to go out into the battle, their headbands were tightened around their foreheads, weapon holsters quickly fastened around upper thighs as their one year old lay asleep in her crib to which the parents didn't even give a glance. To anyone who didn't know the couple, and the troubles they had gone through it would perhaps seem as if they were rushing to do their duties, simply wanting to protect everyone else in the village, but really it was all too different. On the day of the announcement that they were expecting again everyone gave them words of congratulations, everyone was so happy for the couple that deserved another child more than many, the loss of their first still hung heavy in their hearts, the memory of their son that went out on his very first mission never to return. They didn't even get to say goodbye to him before he left, their own duties pulling them from being able to bid him farewell, pulling them away from being able to hold their child close for one last time, and now in their hearts they knew this would be their replacement, this would fix what had been lost and right all wrongs. The larger the woman became the more the two prepared, the cot was ready, the nursery painted a nice shade of blue, everything was ready for the birth of their new son that had already been named after their first.
Questions arose at the name, people whispering about them in private, questioning if the couple were in fact okay or if this new child would bring back even more grief, but happiness faded eventually as more rumors spread, the way they heard the mother speak to her stomach, talking to it as if it were really her son in there, as if he had the same memories, the same life as they one they lost. They were careful, they refused to lose another child, almost never being seen outside the house, but in their own little world they had never been happier despite the judgement that went on all around them.
As fate would have it though, things did not happen quite as they had wanted. The cries of a woman filled their home, hands clasped together as she gave her last push, relieved smile on her sweaty face as the cries of her newborn now filled the room, the couple shared loving glances with one another and they looked to the foot of the bed awaiting their child. A medic stood there, a family friend, one of the few that had remained with them through the 9 months of pregnancy.
"Congratulations Mr and Mrs Iyana, it's a girl."
That single word brought on waves of shock, the couple looking to one another to question if they had both heard the same word leave the medics mouth, but as the bundle was handed over it proved to be no joke, they had heard correctly, and instead of their perfect little son, they now had a girl to deal with. Something that had brought about a bitterness in their hearts, a resentment to the child they had created, for 9 months had been spent wishing for their son to return home, and now they knew he never would again. They didn't coddle their child as many would, leaving her in the cot for large amounts of the time that they were home, only when the cries became too much was she lifted and tended to, before once again being laid back down, not a single ounce of love being sent their newborn daughters way.
The Iyana's didn't stop trying to conceive after that, desperate to have a boy in their lives that would fill in the hole in their heart, one that their daughter would never be able to fill. But too many times she had been told it wasn't possible, that Mrs Iyana would not be able to conceive again, something about her age and apparent difficulties her body had gone through with her most recent child, and once again the hate and hurt was turned into daggered eyes sent to the cot that rested beside their bed. Not only was she now not the son they craved, but she was the reason that their son would never be in their arms again. Some could see the resentment in the way they shut themselves off from the world, acting as if they had only just lost their son once again, rarely were they seen out with the child, a rumor or two even passed around that the child had in fact died, and all this was why the parents didn't take one last look at their child before they left, why they didn't try and hurry her off to a shelter to keep her safe, perhaps if the house was crushed it would save them years of having their mistake look them in the face.
When dawn broke the war was over, the Hokage had saved them all, but there were many lives lost on that night, and much destruction that would take many years to rebuild. Amongst the destruction a wail came out, a hungry child calling out for her feed amongst the remains of a tattered old house, when the child was plucked from the ruins they spoke of it like a miracle, as if she shouldn't have survived, frowns then coming to their faces when they realised that she was yet another orphan to be added to the list, another child of war needing to be taken care of. Amongst the many bodies lay her parents, death was quick for them, and not too long after they had in fact left their home had they died, perhaps it was a sick form of justice, an angel that could see their treatment and decided it was time for them to be punished.
It was from here that Moriko Iyana truly started her life, for the early years like the other youngsters they were watched closely, given temporary homes while they couldn't look out for themselves, but from the moment they could housing was arranged, numerous flats built to home those that had nowhere else to go, and it was here that she now resided, in a home she called her her own. It was also here that they were forgotten, the forgotten victims of a war, and Moriko herself, the unwanted child of war.
A/N: This is a rewrite of a story I wrote some time back, I hope you enjoy it. I appreciate any reviews however I don't really accept criticism no matter the kind, I write for fun and generally things like that knock a lot of my inspiration off despite my ideas still being there.