Tokyo, Amamiya, the Cherry Blossoms Are Blooming Back Home

I know this village, every household as desolate as falling cherry blossoms.

Her family's second son died, that family's eldest son fell in battle. Who can escape Heaven's retribution?

In 1Q45, after the war, nearly every man in a village on the outskirts of Tokyo had died. The women and children struggled to survive, their grief endless.

The moon shone bright. The towering mountains on every side were giants guarding the orphaned children and widowed mothers. Beneath the blazing sun, a hundred acres of fields were the grain basin that kept widows and their weak children alive.

Everywhere you looked, in front of the village and behind the houses, all was ruin. Turn your gaze to the fields and hilltops, and every farmer wore a white mourning cloth.

Once, people from outside the village called this place a paradise on earth. Now, they called it a living hell.

They say Heaven never leaves people without a way forward. If it really does, you just have to find another one.

At high noon, a boy with an irresistible, bewitching charm walked out of the village. He stopped on the muddy, stony road, raised the corners of his mouth, and cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone.

"Aunties, big sisters, little sisters, you've all worked so hard. Time to eat!"