Hi all! Here's another one shot for you all. I apologise beforehand if it doesn't make any sense at times, I tried! I found a bit of folklore based upon thunder and thought, why not? So enjoy, and please leave a review of any ideas you've got! I'm welcoming any :)

Over the course of his life, the thunder had played a significant role in foretelling what was to come. He remembered that no matter what the event was, the thunder would follow. For some, it was considered a curse. The idea of knowing that something could happen to their loved ones at the strike of the sky- something that was out of their control- was too painful to bear. For him however, it was a blessing. It gave him the slightest comfort that he could prepare to steel his heart against the pain he is sure to feel, no matter the occasion.

He had it worked out once; particular days and seasons would be followed by some sort of tragedy. Some good, some bad, he found it didn't matter as time went on. All that mattered was his connection to the thunder.

If it Thunders on Sunday, the death of a great man will follow;

He had only been a boy the first time he heard the deafening roar of thunder. He yelped and ran as fast as his little legs could go into the large room and dived onto the bed, onto his father. He whimpered as the man slowly pulled him into his lap, cradling his son as comforted him from his biggest fear.

"It's just thunder Kakashi."

The boy whimpered again.

On Monday, the death of a woman is foretold;

She couldn't help but smile when she found him sleeping on the windowsill. There he lay, curled up in a ball, looking peaceful and young- a sight which she hadn't seen in years. She looked towards the blackened sky as the lightening flashed and the thunder roared, glad she had convinced him to come in and rest; she may be pregnant but she didn't need a baby sitter, you know! She glanced down again at the sleeping child as she felt a small kick. Smiling softly, she placed a blanket on top of him with one hand and rubbed her swollen belly with the other.

"Don't worry Naruto, you'll meet your big brother soon."

On Tuesday in early summer, there will be a good harvest;

In the field in which he is a small scarecrow, the area is bland and dull. The crops and plants he was meant to protect had wilted and fell, disappearing into the ground below them.

It hadn't always been like that.

There had been one, a shrub. It was large and unruly but beautiful and proud. That was until it had begun to whither and crumble under the force of the winds, eventually dying and leaving him alone.

And it remained this way for years and years until he heard the familiar clap of thunder and feared its wrath. However slowly, but surely, a Sunflower appeared. It was tall and powerful, strong enough to withstand the gusts of wind that seemed to be aimed at him. It was cheerful and captivating, and brought others with it. At first, a small flower began to bloom, its flowers beautiful and bright and red, until its unsuspecting audience got caught between its teeth. Next a delicate little purple bud blossomed followed quickly by a lively daffodil, both eager to please the scarecrow, regardless of what the little bundle of yellow petals stated.

He had his garden to protect.

On Wednesday, the threat of war and the death of harlots;

When the Kyuubi had attacked, the village was quick to blame the clan. They claimed that they controlled the beast to kill their beloved Hokage and his wife, to destroy the village and its heart, only to play coy afterwards. He didn't believe that of course but with the threat of bad weather, he wasn't so sure.

Of course, years later, his instinct turned out to be correct.

The thunder rumbled as he found the bodies scattered along the streets. Their blood mixed with tears and rain, their faces frightened and scarred. The threat of a war between the clan and the village had proved too much for some- neither party could have negotiated peacefully and neither had wanted to.

It was only pitiful that the one who ended the threat had loved his village that much, he had ended his own future in order to save it.

He looked around once again, staring sadly at the few who had no choice in their futures.

The thunder rumbled.

On Thursday, a man of note will be murdered;

And so, he had heard, the man had fought to his last breath. Brave, proud, strong- he hadn't expected any less. He had heard the thunder earlier that day and abruptly froze, quickly counting those he could see and those he couldn't.

It hadn't taken long for the news to come.

Killed by his own students, they said. For peace, they said.

The only peace he had was the thunder that roared above him.

On Friday, a great disaster is going to occur… pestilence and death;

If anyone had told him that his dead best-friend was in fact alive, well and ready to kill him, he wouldn't have believed it. He'd seen the boy die in front of him, he carried his eye for god's sake!

But none of that mattered now.

His best-friend had returned and threatened war. A war that could unite and destroy all shinobi.

It was scary really, but he found all he could do was laugh.

Laugh at the fact his friend was alive. Laugh at the idea that he would place the world in a dream where a person could have anything they wanted.

Did he not understand that no one got what they truly wanted?

He laughed at the hypocrisy of it all. A man who claimed to fight for peace was, in fact, fighting a war that was destroying all. A man who claimed that all would be free to do as they wished was being controlled by another man, who was much more twisted than himself.

Did he not see what there was to laugh about?

He was sure the thunder did.

On Saturday, an abundance of sheep and corn;

When the war ended, he found himself walking along the worn dirt paths towards the training grounds he'd used as a child. Granted, he'd used them with his own team some years later, though he felt as if he wasn't ready to let go of the memories he had of the place from so long ago.

This, of course, was how he ended up in this situation.

He had been minding his own business, lounging about on the open fields, the thunder rumbling above him as he read his beloved 'Icha Icha' when a trio of 18 year olds stumbled across him.

They had been completely surprised, they claimed, to have found him there. He found himself smiling and knowingly nodding his head at the mixture of blonde, pink and black completely ignoring the object in the blonde's hands. He kept the smile on his face for the whole time they were there, laughing along with them as they casually looked in the same direction and froze. It wasn't long after they had disappeared and he made his way home that he found the piece of paper carefully slotted under his door.

He realised with a smile that he was, in fact, a shepherd who had found his sheep. His flock which he was currently staring at the in newly framed picture of them, all older now but still smiling just as brightly.

The thunder rumbled in agreement.