Rain is good for the soul. As it falls, it can cleanse your soul, ease your mind, and even free your heart - if you allow it.
It did not, however, bring calamity to the lone wanderer silently passing through the village in the dead of the dark night.
The wanderer's footsteps in the puddles were drowned out by the sound of rain hitting the wooden roofs of the housetops, and the wanderer remained invisible through the mist and shadows. The clattering of armour was even disguised as rain came in contact with it's hand surface. No one saw the long, dark brown hair that slung to it, hoping to release it's moisture, or the dark, Siena brown eyes furrowed in thought of something fierce.
The woman left the village without a word, and her sandalled footsteps were soon erased by the small flooding.
She was wet; completely soaked through and then some, but she continued to walk on across the deserted plains northwards.
As the rain mixed with a single tear of anger, she released a lone name, executing it with her tone of hate.
"Naraku..."