The following morning, the villagers and I gathered in the central square, where the remnants of the previous day’s destruction still lingered—charred wood, crumbled stone, and the faint, bitter scent of ash. Despite the physical scars on the village, there was a sense of resilience in the air. Grandma Haruko and Kokoro stood at the forefront, leading the assembly with calm determination.
The meeting was called to discuss the village’s rebuilding efforts, but it was clear that the destruction wasn’t the only thing on everyone’s minds. Though the villagers spoke of repairing homes and fortifying defenses, their eyes kept drifting toward me—curious, questioning, awestruck.
I could feel their unspoken thoughts hanging heavy in the air.