Drizzle fell without cease, raindrops pattering against the low-hanging eaves and forming a curtain of water like strings of pearls.
The patter of rain seemed to be this country's eternal, unchanging melody.
Puddles covered the ground everywhere, while lake water had overflowed and blurred all boundaries. It was impossible to tell where the land ended and the lakes began. The entire country seemed to have been built upon water.
Because of the wars that had raged year after year, all that met the eye were ruined homes and broken walls. The people of the Land of Rain had long since been displaced to unknown places. According to estimates, the tiny Land of Rain had produced at least several hundred thousand refugees during the years of war, while the number of dead could not be counted.
Firelight flickered within a ruined house. One wall had already collapsed, allowing rain and cold wind to sweep inside.
Crack!
Jiraiya snapped the damp branch in his hand and lightly tossed it into the campfire before him. Choking white smoke immediately spread through the room, making the other two cough softly despite themselves.
If they had a choice, they would not have wanted to use wet wood. But in this damned place called the Land of Rain, dry firewood was an extremely scarce resource. They could only save a small amount each time for starting fires, then dry the wet wood once the flames had grown stronger.
Once the branches had dried somewhat and the thick smoke had dispersed, the firelight brought long-lost warmth to the ruined house. Tsunade let out a long breath, removed the forehead protector from her brow, and placed it beside the fire to dry. Raindrops trickled down from her beautiful hair.
She curled up to keep herself warmer. She had