Post by Tensei Kaori on Mar 12, 2007 13:33:16 GMT -5
The last clouds of dust stirred up by the departing caravan drifted away on the lazy morning breeze; the only remaining sign that the rowdy group had ever been there was the multitude of footprints and wagon tracks leading out of the village. Even the last of the spectators gathered to see the group off had all left by now, returning to homes and jobs, to missions and training – but most of all, to the seemingly neverending task of rebuilding the village.
It wasn't that anyone minded, of course. It was hard work, and tiring, but it needed to be done. Even now the sounds of construction could be heard; hammering and sawing and the like – but over all the din another sound could be heard, the sound of human voices laughing and shouting, calling out to a friend or asking someone down below to pass another box of nails. It was times like these that brought people closer together, repairing broken bonds and forging new ones. Neighbors who'd been feuding for almost an entire generation were laughing and joking together as they helped one another rebuild their homes, jobs were completed with nearly doubled efficiency, even academy students whose grades were suffering during the war suddenly found themselves working with renewed abilities. And though the grief of loss was still present on many faces – a few more gray hairs here, a wistful gaze there, a light of sadness shining from more than a few pairs of eyes – one would be hard-pressed to find any signs that this now bustling village had, barely a week before, laid in such ruin that some thought it beyond salvation. This was the kind of rebirth that had so characterized the Village of the Leaf, the Will of Fire that, no matter what, prevented its citizens from giving up hope for a brighter tomorrow as the result of today's hard work. And through the laughing faces and the grieving alike, there shone an iron-hard resolve that hung in the air like an unseen fog, energizing and encouraging anyone in its presence.
It was in this atmosphere of serene business, of quiet cacophany and an unseen but ever-present resolve, that the Ninja Aministration building hummed with the quiet buzz of a well-oiled machine. Everyone in that building had a job to do, and everyone there knew how to do it – and do it efficiently. It was a lively place, despite the calm reserve that hung in the air as thick as the cloud of resolve outside.
“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” the woman's shout rang through the building like a trumpet, accompanied by the resounding BANG of a door slamming open. Tokugawa-san choked on her morning tea, a bustling intern tripped over her own two feet and sent the stack of papers she had been carrying flying across the room, and Otojiro-san knocked over a display he had been arranging to welcome visitors. And in the open doorway to the Hokage's office stood Adabana Miyoko, the bare foot she had used to kick the door open still suspended in the air.
“Aaaaaall right!” the wild-looking Kunoichi cheered as the door bounced off the wall and came back at her – she caught it with a bandaged hand as she strode into the room - “Everyone, look out! Miyoko-sama has arrived!”
Striding into the room with an aura of cocky self-confidence, the voluptuous shinobi cast a measuring look about the tidy room before settling her crimson gaze on the Hokage's desk. “Just the way she said it would be!” she said to herself – though still with a volume that could be heard by anyone in the hallway outside. “Aaaaah, I've always wanted to sit here!” she sighed as she flung herself into the chair behind the desk and stretched out her long legs across the polished wood surface, knocking over a cup full of writing utensils as she did so. “And down here,” she continued as she looked under the desk, “we--- oooh, what have we here?” she grinned to herself as she caught sight of a cooler containing a clear liquid, two clean glasses stacked upside-down on top. I don't think she'll mind if I help myself to some, she thought with a giggle as she poured herself a glass. “Kanpai!*” she shouted, and took a big drink.
And promptly choked.
“Water!” she shouted mournfully as she used a bandaged arm to wipe the spilled water off her face. “I should have known a health nut like Kaori wouldn't keep that much Sake at her desk!”
She was cut off when someone outside knocked on the open doorframe. “Whaaaat?” she called lazily. “I'm busy!”
*Kanpai – The easiest Japanese-English translation of this phrase would be something to the effect of “Cheers”
It wasn't that anyone minded, of course. It was hard work, and tiring, but it needed to be done. Even now the sounds of construction could be heard; hammering and sawing and the like – but over all the din another sound could be heard, the sound of human voices laughing and shouting, calling out to a friend or asking someone down below to pass another box of nails. It was times like these that brought people closer together, repairing broken bonds and forging new ones. Neighbors who'd been feuding for almost an entire generation were laughing and joking together as they helped one another rebuild their homes, jobs were completed with nearly doubled efficiency, even academy students whose grades were suffering during the war suddenly found themselves working with renewed abilities. And though the grief of loss was still present on many faces – a few more gray hairs here, a wistful gaze there, a light of sadness shining from more than a few pairs of eyes – one would be hard-pressed to find any signs that this now bustling village had, barely a week before, laid in such ruin that some thought it beyond salvation. This was the kind of rebirth that had so characterized the Village of the Leaf, the Will of Fire that, no matter what, prevented its citizens from giving up hope for a brighter tomorrow as the result of today's hard work. And through the laughing faces and the grieving alike, there shone an iron-hard resolve that hung in the air like an unseen fog, energizing and encouraging anyone in its presence.
It was in this atmosphere of serene business, of quiet cacophany and an unseen but ever-present resolve, that the Ninja Aministration building hummed with the quiet buzz of a well-oiled machine. Everyone in that building had a job to do, and everyone there knew how to do it – and do it efficiently. It was a lively place, despite the calm reserve that hung in the air as thick as the cloud of resolve outside.
“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” the woman's shout rang through the building like a trumpet, accompanied by the resounding BANG of a door slamming open. Tokugawa-san choked on her morning tea, a bustling intern tripped over her own two feet and sent the stack of papers she had been carrying flying across the room, and Otojiro-san knocked over a display he had been arranging to welcome visitors. And in the open doorway to the Hokage's office stood Adabana Miyoko, the bare foot she had used to kick the door open still suspended in the air.
“Aaaaaall right!” the wild-looking Kunoichi cheered as the door bounced off the wall and came back at her – she caught it with a bandaged hand as she strode into the room - “Everyone, look out! Miyoko-sama has arrived!”
Striding into the room with an aura of cocky self-confidence, the voluptuous shinobi cast a measuring look about the tidy room before settling her crimson gaze on the Hokage's desk. “Just the way she said it would be!” she said to herself – though still with a volume that could be heard by anyone in the hallway outside. “Aaaaah, I've always wanted to sit here!” she sighed as she flung herself into the chair behind the desk and stretched out her long legs across the polished wood surface, knocking over a cup full of writing utensils as she did so. “And down here,” she continued as she looked under the desk, “we--- oooh, what have we here?” she grinned to herself as she caught sight of a cooler containing a clear liquid, two clean glasses stacked upside-down on top. I don't think she'll mind if I help myself to some, she thought with a giggle as she poured herself a glass. “Kanpai!*” she shouted, and took a big drink.
And promptly choked.
“Water!” she shouted mournfully as she used a bandaged arm to wipe the spilled water off her face. “I should have known a health nut like Kaori wouldn't keep that much Sake at her desk!”
She was cut off when someone outside knocked on the open doorframe. “Whaaaat?” she called lazily. “I'm busy!”
*Kanpai – The easiest Japanese-English translation of this phrase would be something to the effect of “Cheers”
