мοrι ηo κο 『森の子』

Five | | Funeral

》Dιsсlαιмεя: I own no Canon characters that shall be used within this story。Only the OCs, as well as the setting in which the beginning of this tale will take place。 All other things within the Narutoverse belong to none other than the marvelous, Masashi Kishimoto。READ ONWARD, LOVELIES!! ( ' ▽ ' )ﾉ《

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Kusachigakure no Sato (Village Hidden in the Meadow) had fallen into a seemingly eternal darkness; the sun refused to rise as so much death was evident and blood was spilled. Nearly eighty-nine percent of the village's population had been obliterated in less than two hours. Their deaths had been committed in various forms of silence, brutality, and simplicity.

Amidst the cloud of smoke and piles of rubble, a family stood beneath the massive tree at the center of their once-peaceful and beautiful home. The mother tree weeped for her friends, her children, as well as her citizens. She witnessed their suffering and sorrow. She couldn't protect them; only watch as they fell right before her burning mahogany eyes.

Shin, Midori, and Ayama stood beneath the mother tree's umbrella of dark leaves, before two freshly dug graves already filled.

"Even through this hellish night," said Shin, cupping his hands together in front of his chest, "beauty in the deaths of those around us can be created." He performed three swift hand seals of: boar, rat, dragon. "Nagamori Art: Emergence of Life jutsu," he said, smacking a hand at the foot of each grave.

As his chakra-infused palms struck the fresh earth, a line of blue was sent into each. Veins formed all around the two graves until they molded and met at the center. Once within the middle of each, the earth crumbled over as two small saplings broke through and grew into five meter tall cherry blossom trees.

Midori held her mother's hand and stared at the burial where Masahiko Ichida was and closed her eyes. Don't forget about me, she thought, releasing her hand from Ayama's she walked up to the bloomed sakura and traced her fingers over the beautiful pink flower. She smiled to herself as a sudden warmth emitted from it. Opening her eyes, she nodded towards the tree. I promise I won't forget you, Masahiko-kun.

"Midori," said Ayama, sitting her hand atop the young girl's shoulder, "I'm sorry about earlier."

Shifting her gaze over to her mother, she raised her eyebrow inquiringly. "About what?"

Ayama blushed and scratched at her cheek with her index finger. "For . . . um, asking you . . . to kill that man." she answered, looking away in an ashamed manner. She sighed. "I should've known better than to ask such a terrible thing of my child."

Midori fluctuated her gaze over to her father and shook her head. "No. It's okay."

"Ayama," interrupted Shin, his voice sounding eerily stern, "let's get out of here before more of those . . . things show up."

The blonde-haired woman brushed back her short hair with her fingers then tied it into a high ponytail. "I won't be of much help if we encounter one, but . . ." she paused as she glanced down at her filthy daughter, "I'll sure as hell give it my all to protect the both of you."

Mom, thought Midori as she slipped her hand into that of her mother's, you're so brave.

Ayama merely glanced down at Midori, a radiant smile etched upon her face unlike any that Midori had ever witnessed before. The young girl had never realized just how beautiful her mother was until that moment; her thoughts were no longer filled with sorrow, rather joy at how she'd not once saw her mother look so carefree and . . . possibly happy.

Midori stared into Ayama's caribbean blue eyes and gave her mother a cheeky smile.

Shin looked at his wife and then to his daughter. Ayama, he thought, observing the smile upon her face, you shouldn't give her such a false gesture; she won't be able to forgive you, if you do.