1.
Some say the war began because of political displeasure; others say it was over a land dispute many years ago. People also claim that it originated as far back as the Sage of Six Path's sons (which is a tale that is as old as time, and Kanayama isn't sure it is very reliable). In any case, Kanayama believes it was strife between two men over a woman, because women are certainly powerful influences. However, everyone she has ever told this to has doubted it, so it's more of a joke than an accurate answer.
As far as anyone was concerned, it was a war with no foreseeable end or a certain beginning. Kanayama's childhood consisted of being treated as a child should not be. Since she could walk, she was shown war. When she was four, she began her training under the watchful eyes of her cousins and uncle. Her father personally took her elder half sister, Haniyama, under his wing. Haniyama was oldest, and by that she needed more training as she was now on the battlefield, so Kanayama took all the attention she could from her family.
During her training, the war had been a daily thought, a continual consciousness in her life for three years. She had a cousin her age by the name of Itama, he was only six months older than her with a brilliance in all subjects given to him, while she struggled to match up to her elder sister. Her achievements were something to be proud of, while Kanayama had little strength in Takuma's (she cannot find it in herself to call him Papa) Earth Style. She cannot move the earth like him, instead she finds the wind to be her natural element.
No one within the Clan knows of the ninjutsu of wind element users (such is a strange type that she inherited from her mother). She was born of a Uzumaki woman with hair the color of the battle armour that Uncle Butsuma wears, and wide, violet eyes that Kanayama inherited.
Instead of hair the color of tree bark, Kanayama has hair described as redwood. Too red to be brown, and too brown to be red. She was not a pure-blood Senju, and her sister constantly reminded her of this. The only thing to link Kanayama to her elder sister was the beautymark that was directly under her right eye, and the same one marked her sister's upper cheek too.
She found comfort in her life in the form of Itama, her favorite cousin, because of his good natured attitude and kindness. Kanayama found it easier to relate to someone with the same gentleness that she possessed, though it's not quite the same as having someone that understood her.
Her first battle was a hazy one, and she retains nothing from those terrible minutes except for bursts and scenes and visions that are scarcely imaginable of horror and blood. It is difficult to try to understand what had happened, because it was all so managled. It was hard to try to make sense of something where there is no sense. There was nothing but the smell of smoke, and the clashing of swords. There were cries of the wounded, of their agonizingly deaths by fire, of others shrieking as their bodies are cut and slashed at, armour becoming useless. They are the tragic, unbelievable visions, which carry from one moment of fear to another.
Kanayama isn't quite sure which role she played in that battle, but she knows that she did not flee the fight. She recalls she may have tried to do as Lady Tsunada had told her, and heal her fallen comrades with her clumsy, childish chakra, but to no avail. She isn't sure if she killed anyone, either. She remembers people coming at her, and her green battle armour was very heavy, making it a struggle to move, but she managed the best she could. Itama was by her side one moment, and the next, he was gone. All she could hear was her blood pounding in her ears, and blood red eyes staring at her as her blade met another blade until the fight was over.
Senju declared victory, and Kanayama was left shaken.
Kanayama hated violence - perhaps her mother ingrained that into her before her death. Still, she fought, for her clan and for her father's legacy. Takuma was killed in battle, and they managed to get his burned, disgustingly managled remains back to bury him alongside his fellow shinobi.
Uncle Butsuma told both girls that they were Takuma's legacy, and it was their duty as his daughters to protect the clan with all of their might as Takuma had because he trusted them with his former responsiblity. Haniyama's back had straightened at his words before she bowed her head, sliding Takuma's sword out of his grasp.
A deadman does not need a weapon, does he?
She slid it into her sheath, replacing her own sword with his. She was his legacy, not Kanayama. Haniyama was the one who best knew the skills of their father, she was the one to inherit his looks. She stood proud, her head high and her heart closed off with long, shiny dark drown hair and dark eyes to match.
It was that day that Kanayama became Kanaya Senju.
Kanayama had been Takuma's offspring, not his daughter, just as he had been a creator, not a father. She gave up the bows and kimonos permantely for boys' clothing.
...
"Haniyama. What's taking so long?" Two dark violet eyes met dark brown ones, and they battled for dominance for almost thirty seconds before the elder girl scoffed, moving her eyes towards the closed door of Airi Senju's birthing chambers.
The sixteen year old crossed her arms, a scowl etched onto her face. "You would not understand, Kanayama."
"Kanaya." The younger girl replied just as harsh, her own scowl forming to match that of her elder sister. Haniyama sneered back at her. "If Father had wished you to be Kanaya, he would have named you as such." She glared down at the seven year old, but Kanaya stared right back just as defiantly. She wanted to make a smart comment, however she didn't wish to spoil the day of her little sister's birth, so she chose to remain quiet.
Upon the death of Takuma, she had come to realize that he had been courting a younger woman. It didn't surprise her in anyway, he had courted her own mother when Haniyama's had died. However, she was surprised at how months later, Airi Senju's stomach began to swell, and she just knew her little sister was in there. Haniyama was bitter about it, refusing to acknowledge the very thought of it being their father's child. Kanaya had always known that her sister was bitter about Takuma marrying Kanaya's mother, and the fact this woman was not even wed yet had enraged her.
She publicly ignored Airi while Kanaya had attended to her every need. She had vowed to protect her little brother and sister, and raise them to be a strong ninja. Hashirama had told her how strange little siblings were. Itama had been cheerful, and he had possessed a naturally happy dispostion, while Tobirama had been born with a frown on his chubby cheeks. He was happy for her, and he was excited for another cousin.
Hashirama needed this since the death of poor Kawarama, and even Kanaya had shed a few tears at the loss while Haniyama had slapped her for the cries, futhering the rift between the two sisters. There was a hatred between them that went farther than simple sisterly competition, going deeper into the fact that Haniyana hated her for her Uzumaki blood. It left Kanaya feeling confused as to why she would already fell a deep resentment towards their unborn sibling, as she or he is of full Senju blood.
Haniyama stared at the oakwood door for a moment before she turned towards Kanaya. "It will take a long while. Her hips are too small for childbearing, it is a difficult birth." Kanaya's fingers fiddled with a stray piece of string on her pin-striped pants, yanking it out more to twist it around her finger as tightly as possible until her finger changed color as circulation was cut off, and only then would she let it go.
These were not her pants, instead they belonged to Itama, who was around her size. Upon her decision to be treated as and dress as any boy would, her cousins offered her any clothing they had to her. Hashirama and Tobirama had clothing they had outgrown, while Itama said he had plenty of things to share. Butsuma offered all of Kawarama's clothing, and she had accepted because it was her uncle's way of showing her she was one of the few things he had left. She didn't feel right wearing a dead boy's clothing, and his outfits were not so fashionable as Itama or Tobirama.
Haniyama was frowning, which was her normal look, and silently she wondered if her elder sister was born with a frown on her face, too. Probably not, because from her faint memories from being a little toddler had her remember times when Haniyama was always smiling and giggling. She remembered when she was sing Kanaya to sleep.
Of course, that was before Ohonamochi had died, which had left her bitter and changed. Ohonamochi was the oldest of all the siblings, two years older than Haniyama and wasn't a half sibling, instead he was the son of Haniyama's mother. He was twelve years old when he was killed on a battlefield.
Haniyama's mother fell into a deep depression that even her own daughter could not drag her out of, which caused Takuma's eyes to stray towards Kanaya's mother who was the second daughter of the clan leader of the Uzumaki Clan. When she died, she was only mourned by Haniyama, while the rest of the clan rejoiced at the stronger alliance that came from a marriage between the two lovers. Kanaya tried to understand Haniyama's pain, but couldn't quite grasp it. Haniyama was upset that her mother was replaced, while Kanaya was excited at the prospect of having a new sibling. The two were much too different.
Haniyama shifted, pulling the soft quilt around her as the bitter cold of the outside world slipped inbetween the cracks of the walls, biting at the girls' skin. It was snowing outside, which left Kanaya feeling giddy at the thought that her little sister or brother would also be a winter child like herself (her birthday was in the coldest January that the Senju had ever seen) and she was going to be eight years old. That was an impressive age for any child that was a shinobi, let alone a female on a battlefield. The girls were targeted first and foremost because of the fact the that they had to be strong to be in their position, which meant they could grow into more prosperous ninja and the fact they could bear children in the future.
Kanaya pouted a little as she clutched her haori a little tighter, and glanced towards her older sister, but found her blank faced and obviously not about to share her blanket, leaving Kanaya to fend off the cold herself. She tapped an erratic beat against the hardwood flooring to keep her feet from freezing, and wished that the builders had used the soft, warm carpet everywhere in the large compound, instead of only in certain areas, like birthing chambers.
"It's been a whole day and a half." Kanaya concluded, "There should be a baby by now. I'm very bored." Haniyama gave her an aggravated look in return. "I already explained this to you-"
There was a loud shriek, so loud that Kanaya covered her ears, while Haniyama seemed unbothered by it, instead she stared at the door with a bit of perplexed curiousity at what had just happened. There had been one or two small screams, yes, but this had been the loudest by far. Kanaya waited eagerly for a baby's wailing, however there was only silence. There was a small whimper-like sound, but it sounded more like a drowned cat, and it was gone within seconds.
"Do you suppose there is something wrong with the baby?" Kanaya inquired. "Hashi-Itoko told me that some babies are born with strange shaped heads. Or perhaps it has only two fingers or toes."
Haniyama's face turned an agressive shade of red in her annoyance at Kanaya's babblings. "Or perhaps it was still-born, Kanayama." That made Kanaya freeze in her place. She knew what those words meant, since Riku Senju had given birth to two still-born children. She let the whole name thing slide as she whirled around to her sister, tears of anger welling up in her eyes as she bit back a few nasty words, trying to keep herself from launching at the smirking teenager.
"Our," She emphasized, just to see how pissed her sister could get. "little brother or sister is alive, and she or he will be a beauty. It might even look like Papa." Haniyama's eyes flashed at the mention of their decreased father, especially since Kanaya had the nerve to claim the little bastard that Airi was having was his at all. Haniyama was only here to prove that it was not her esteemed father's child.
Kanaya could only describe what happened next using a familiar phrase of, 'in the nick of time' because right as her sister raised her hand to slap Kanaya, the door slowly creaked open, which caused Haniyama to stop mid-swing. She looked up, hoping to see a bundle in Auntie's arms, instead she found bloody linen that she was carrying to be washed, that was tossed into a tightly woven basket, but still a drop escaped and hit the hardwood, Kanaya's eyes trailing after it.
The woman stood in front of her, the strain of the news was cleary shown by the tightness of her shoulder, and Kanaya once recalled being told that eyes spoke more than words could ever dream of speaking. Her eyes told a story of a mother's desperate struggle to bring into the world, the most precious thing in the mundance universe. An infant. For the briestest of moments, the world slowed, and Kanaya wondered if Haniyama's words had cursed the child to be born dead, a life stolen by the hatred of its half siblings.
"Airi-san has died doing a woman's duty, and has passed onto a world so much more peaceful than our own, alongside many of our clansmen. Pardon me, I must inform Butsuma-sama of the news." The kind, soft words are drifted towards Kanaya to bring comfort to what she assumed was a distraught child, instead all she saw was a blank mask reserved only for when she spoke to those ranking above her, or towards the enemies that wished to kill her. She did not need this woman's lies, so Kanaya simply nods slowly, as her aunt padded away down the corridor with two healers following at her heels, like two dogs following their master.
There are many ways for a young child to respond to the death of a person they may have been quite close to, or had loved. However, it differs on what that child is told. A small child is often told that their special person has gone to a better place of no war, of peace. It is said to make the death a little easier to bear, however in this war torn world, it would have been easier for Kanaya to have simply be told that she had died.
She did not need softness, she did not need to be babied. A lot of people died, and sure she had grown to be very fond of Airi, but she highly doubted there was a place with no war. Grudges between clans would most likely follow you to the afterlife, Kanaya turned to see the last medic disappear, and that mundane door was slightly open, inviting her for a peek at what laid inside.
...
Haniyama approached the door first, slowly pushing it open, because despite her coldness, she felt it wrong to intrude on a dead mother's deathbed. She knocked once, then twice even if the woman was dead, and Kanaya stared at her then the door to the room. It was ominious in ways that left Kanaya shaking in her shoes, the aura of the room had changed significantly into one that made you simply know that a tragedy had taken place there, and usually the birth of a baby was not a tragedy.
"You...You better not have killed it with your cruel words." Kanaya's voice trembled slightly as she stepped into the room with her sister. It was too quiet, much too quiet for Kanaya's likings, so she stepped hard to see if the wood would creak from under the soft, thick red carpet that rested on the floors, but it did not so the silence ensued. The large feather bed rested in the middle of the room, and Haniyama approached it first. The body's pose was not nautral, it was too straight, too perfect, no human could sleep as such. Airi's face and body was covered head to toe in a pure white, unblemished sheet that every midwife brought for this purpose only; to mark the dead. The sheet was most likely to cover any blood that was on the body, as a more traditional pose was for the face to be covered, while the body laid flat with the right hand resting over the left in the middle of their abdomen. Haniyama's hands slid under the sheet, and a grim smile twisted on her lips as she spoke. "The body is still slightly warm. She recently died."
Kanaya blanched, however while Haniyama seemed preoccupied with the body, her eyes were only for the wooden cradle near the bed. It was swaddled tightly, though it looked as if the bundle was not in fact moving, which made her heart beat faster against her ribcage. She moved closer, the blanket was pink, and it was a girl which caused her to swell with pride at the fact that she had a baby sister. The blanket was one that she had made by hand, giving it to the midwife to wrap the baby in if it was a girl. It was made with the softest wool that she could buy with what money she had, and was made in a pattern of white and pink. It was made inbetween missions and before and after training sessions.
She slowly picked up the bundle, preparing her self for the worst when it made a strange mewl noise, and Kanaya's face brightened at it. She examined it, memorizing each and every single detail of her. Kanaya knew she was a little premature, and she was as pink as the blanket around her. Her little Imouto was scrawny, her breathing was shallow, she was as bald as an egg, her eyes were shut, and she was by far the most ugly and beautiful thing that Kanaya had ever seen.
"She's our sister." Kanaya breathed as Haniyama's nose wrinkled in distaste, and she looked as if she had eaten something sour. "How do you know?" Haniyama retorted, already enraged by Kanaya's conclusion.
Kanaya touched the beauty mark under her eye, then tapped the small little mark on the baby's petal-soft cheek. Haniyama scowled, her finger brushing against her own beautymark, obviously angry. All three sisters had the same mark, the one that their father once had. She sneered down at the baby, but made no move to touch it, not that Kanaya would even consider allowing her to do more than see her. Kanaya held her tenderly, smiling as the baby took each, slow, wheezy breath.
"We need to name her." Kanaya muttered to herself, more than to Haniyama. The elder girl looked at the child. "It will have to be something godly, like the tradition Father started with us." The Senju followed several religions, or different versions of each religion, and there were a fair amount of gods and goddesses to choose from. Takuma had named each child a different name depending on what had come to him at that point.
Ohonamochi had been named after the God of the Earth, which Takuma had choosen loosely on the fact the clan was called the Senju of the Forest. Haniyama had been named after the Goddess of the Earth and Clay, Haniyama-hime, and had been named such in hopes she would be as productive a shinobi as her older brother. Kanayama had been named after Kanayama-hime, the Goddess of Metals, and her name could also have been for a child of male gender, Kanayama-hiko.
If she followed tradition, she wanted to name her Imouto something special, something worth more than a Goddess of Earth or Metal. She wanted her name mean more than her own. Haniyama spoke first, a twistedly amused look as she spat out, "Kishi, her name should be Kishi, after the Goddess, Kishi-Bojin."
Kanaya considered this for a moment, her mind racing as she tried to figure out exactly what she was the goddess of. The answer hit her like Tobirama had blasted her with water. "The Goddess of Childbirth? You have a sick sense of humor!" Kanaya snuggled the baby closer, her lips pursed angrily.
Haniyama let out a bitter giggle, "She did just kill her mother in CHILDBIRTH. Fitting, no? She'll forever be reminded that she killed Airi-san." Kanaya frowned at the words, slowly setting her back into the cradle with a few sweet words before she turned to her elder sister.
No," Kanaya protested. "The baby didn't kill Airi-san."
"She died giving birth to it." Haniyama scoffed, "Besides, I don't see you giving it a better name."
"She isn't a it. She's a little girl. Besides, the baby is too small and fragile to do anything yet. Airi-san decided to have her so if she died that was her choice." Kanaya countered, "I believe we should name her Miyazu after Miyazu-Hime. The Goddess of Royalty." She pressed her fingers against the dip of the baby's neck. "She's special."
Haniyama snorted, "She's a bastard."
"She is our sister!"
"Half sister. Besides, with both parents dead it falls on our father's heir to decide what path the child takes." Haniyama replied haughtily, "Who's the heir, Kanayama? Her name will be Mitama." She stood, picking up the blanket she had been bundled in when she first arrived, draping it over her shoulder as she headed towards the door. "As far as I'm concerned, it's your problem now, if it survives the winter." The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Kanaya seething.
Uga-No-Mitama. Goddess of agriculture. It was not better than Clay or Metal. Kanaya turned back towards the bundle, as its eyes fluttered open. Little Mitama stared back at her wide, stormy grey eyes. "Alright, Imouto, here's the deal." She said in what she hoped was a sisterly tone. "Haniyama is your Oneesama, okay? But I'm your Neechan, so I'm better than her."
The baby girl said nothing in return, instead she continued her awkward stare up at the older child. "Haniyama doesn't like you." Kanaya stated, matter-of-factly. "But I love you, a whole bunch. So did Airi-san, if she died just to bring you to life. There is a war going on, and I might die, and so might Haniyama. But I'm going to make sure you don't. You're going to become a great shinobi, and I'm going to train you so well that people will be scared of seeing you on a battlefield, okay?"
Of course, the baby did not reply, but Kanaya didn't mind. Her little sister was a newborn, so she couldn't speak, but she had a feeling that Mitama kind of understood what she meant. Gathering Mitama in her arms, and shrugging off her haori to futher wrap the infant in, she trotted off to her room, determined to protect the little life that now depended on her.
...
"Mitama~ Say Neechan. Nee-chan. Nee. Chan."
"Ba. Ba." Mitama cooed in response, causing Kanaya to frown, wiggling her finger in her face. "No, Imouto. Nee. Chan. Neechan." The baby didn't reply after that, instead it leaned aganst the cushion it rest on, sucking on her hand instead, her eyes watching everyone and everything in wonder. Kanaya sat up from her position on her stomach, wiping the grass and dirt from the front of her light green yukata, and threw herself down next to the cushion that her sister was leaning on, since she was beginning to sit up but couldn't quite do it by herself.
They were seated under a large tree, hiding away from the rest of the clan because it was too loud for little Mitama with the other women. Spring had blossomed from Winter, like the flowers bloomed from their buds. The children were allowed outside under the watchful eyes of their mothers, while the winter babes were beginning to experince the outside world they had not been allowed in.
Since Mitama's birth, Kanaya had slowly congregated back with the women (she still demanded her new name, and wore boys' clothing) but was more willing to learn the arts of womanhood. Her eighth birthday had passed by with disappointment, Haniyama had forgotten about it all together, and while Hashirama had tried to make it memorable (he had managed to get her sweets from a local, peaceful village), but the Senju lost a huge battle against the Uchiha.
Mitama had brighten her birthday up by just being there, and Kanaya had promised to take her outside the moment the snow melted, and it was warmer. However, all the little children of the clan (clad in there light kimonos) had too much energy stored up during their time indoors, and were too obnoxious for Kanaya, so she took time away whenever she could. Sometimes she left Mitama with her wet nurse, Riku-sama, and would just get away from all the intense training she had to go through and the strains of trying to raise a baby.
"Ba!" Mitama shrieked, squealing at how Kanaya jumped up at the sudden noise, a kunai sliding out of her sleeve. Kanaya scowled (it left her feeling too much like Haniyama) and puffed air in and out of her cheeks, annoyed. "C'mon, Tama-chan, don't scare me like that." She poked the baby's belly, making her laugh. Mitama was still as cute as ever, her hair had grown significantly until it covered her entire head. She looked hauntingly like a mix of Haniyama and Mitama. Her hair was dark brown in what seemed to be curls, the exact color of his oldest sister, she had the paleness of Kanaya, and stormy grey eyes that were all her own, neither brown nor violet like her siblings.
She was 5 months old, and did not like sleeping through the night. Riku-sama had encouraged Kanaya to not allow her to continue sleeping in her bed, but Mitama didn't like her crib, so she slept next to Kanaya. Mitama broke her from her thoughts with another squeal, then a quiet sob. She gathered the girl into her arms, and took the stolen zabuton cushion (hopefully no one had noticed its absence from the Main Room). She unfolded the folded cloth from under the cushion, and laid Mitama on it, before she hoisted it onto her back.
She wrapped it around her twice, and tied it as tightly as possible, slightly adjusting the back to make sure Mitama was safely on her back, and began her descent back towards the horrors of the compoud.
Training. Sewing. Baby. Training. Sewing. Baby.
That was all her life was now, and it was ro repeatitive that it made Kanaya want to scream. Her uncle refused her missions while the child was under a year old, and it drove her mad. Her bundle made a small whimpering noise, which caused Kanaya to look back with a goofy smiled. "So, Imouto, how about tomorrow I show you the koi pond? Haniyama didn't show me- Well I suppose I should call her Oneesama for you, but I don't call her that.
"Well, anyway, she never showed me and I found it myself, and fell in. If Hashi-Itoko hadn't been nearby, I would have drowned, y'know. But I will make sure you see everything, okay? And you won't drown or get hurt." She added for assurance. The child didn't babble or make noise, but Kanaya assumed she understood because Mitama was a brilliant baby. She was even trying to crawl and could roll over all on her own.
She entered the home with a shiver because you could just tell that something was very wrong. She turned her head to see Riku hurrying towards her, but before she had time to speak, the dark eyed woman was unstrapping the baby from her back. Her eyes were puffy, red, and there were tear stains running down her pale cheeks. Riku offered her a shaky smile, "Butsuma-sama had requested you, Kanayama-sama." Her voice broke at the end, but Kanaya simply bowed politely before excusing herself. The feeling of grief that was drifting around her was weighing her down. She turned down a corridor, Kanaya's mind wandering.
I wonder who died, Kanaya thought with a small smile poking at her lips.
It could not be that bad, could it? Surely not, because she had sensed Hashirama's chakra earlier, and-
Kanaya paused, her back hitting the wooden wall behind her, her bare feet frozen against the floor as she realized that her jest was not a jest. She gagged, bile rising in her throat as she searched the entire settlement with her limited sensory abilities. Hashirama. Tobriama. Butsuma. Haniyama. Toka. All these familiar chakra, but one was missing.
Where was Itama? If Hashirama was back, so was Itama-kun? Kanaya clutched her head as she tried to figure out where he was and it struck her.
He was...he was the tragedy. Itama was-
She couldn't breath, she couldn't even move, and she was dry gagging, her body jerking in disgust at what she had just discovered, her body moved on it's own and Kanaya was on her feet within seconds, her body taking her to the forest that surronded her home. Sobs wracked her body as she screamed into the forest.
Kanaya cried over the loss of a friend, over the fact that she was too weak to protect him. She because her sister was born into such a horrible world, and she cried for all those who died that couldn't cry for themselves.
When will this terrible war be over?
...
The funeral (if that is what it can be called) took place two days later. Kanaya stood with her face a blank mask, her hands messing with a piece of cloth that Itama had given her for her forehead. It was her color, he said. She and Mitama were dressed in all black, and so were Itama's two brothers. Hashirama looked ready to burst into tears, while Tobirama looked distressed under his frown. It was Kanaya who did not let her tears out, she kept them hidden.
He deserved more than this, she believed. More than slabs of wood and dirt, he deserved a funeral fit for a clan leader. He deserved his six coins into the afterlife, he deserved to be burned and his ashes spread across the lands. He deserved a proper burial, instead he and the other clansmen to give their lives were not honored as Kanaya believed they should be.
From what Kanaya had learned, Itama had been seperated from his comrades and was killed by a seperate group of Uchiha than who Hashirama had been fighting. Children, in Kanaya's opinion, should not have to die so young. What was more horrific, was he was only a few months older than her. It could have been her that died, and she could not afford that with Mitama.
Only six Senju died, one of which was Itama, two were women, and the rest were men. The one women had two small children, the other had a husband. Two of the men were fathers, one was getting married, the other was raising his nephew.
Kanaya had Mitama strapped to her back, and she focused on keeping her from falling, instead of thinking of those that surronded the graves. Crying children clung to their parents' yukatas. Aunts and Uncles swarmed around, offering comfort while grieving themselves. It made Kanaya queasy, and she thinks of when they buried Airi. It had been raining, and she was the only one to attend, besides those who had to bury her body. She had slid six coins into the coffin before they sealed it tightly (she wished she could have done that with Itama) and it occurred to her that Airi had no one in her family left to mourn her.
Fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, and children. Most of the households in Senju's settlement had lost someone they held dear to them.
Kanaya doubted that there were any "whole" families left in this broken, managled, war-torn world. She sincerely hoped that one day, life would be different, but somewhere deep down, she thought there couldn't possibly be a world in which there was peace.
...
I formally apologize for any mistakes or errors within my writing, I am French, I'm also a high schooler just trying to learn English, and most likely failing at it. Please review or give fedback.
Enjoy!