The sun was out, shining down on the million homes hidden in the forest, warming their roofs and the buzzing cramped streets, not a single cloud to be seen on the sky. Kids played around with wooden ninja tools screaming and shouting while throwing mock smoke bombs at the enemy group than running away into the busy street, laughing, enjoying their game.
Adults carried on their daily life, wives buying groceries or heading to their workplace while dropping of their children at school. Men carried stacks of wood toward the carpenters rebuilding the center of the city, dropping the wood with a sigh and wiping the sweat off their brow. Shinobi scouted the village, some headed to the tower, others helped the civilians, and the rest were scattered throughout the village helping out with preparations.
And without warning the moon came out, shining down on the empty streets. A lonely breeze swept up small locks of rose colored hair pulling the passerby in between the abandoned, frightening homes. She could still hear the sounds of people talking, of children laughing, and the sound of sudden silence.
Puddles of leaves crunched under worn shinobi sandals.
The sun was out again. It played with the villagers entertaining them as the joyous shouts carried with the wind. Sweat dripped from young and old, a normal reaction to a summer day.
Then the sky grew gray, heavy dark clouds stretched across the graying canvas, wailing heard in every drop that fell.
It felt like small needles were digging into the torn hooded cloak she wore, seeping in. She could feel the cold, icy rain, but she could also feel the heat from the sun burning across her back.
The early summer rain, she mused walking away from the destroyed homes.