Storm gray eyes behind black-rimmed glasses surveyed the large group clustered before him in a simple clearing... but it was still so few.
Only a fraction of those who lived in Kumogakure no Sato had been saved, that he knew of. Just a few hundred alive out of hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions. Everyone had done their best, but it had simply not been enough.... And now, here he was, former assistant of the Medical Department's Head, now the Head himself until further notice with Raika-dono away on vacation with her beloved. He stood before the survivors, after they had left the Dai Rolling Thunder in the hopes of reclaiming and rebuilding their home.
The ruins of the once-beautiful white castle were behind him, their walls stained gray and black with soot and dust and dried blood.
Tsukiyo Hoshizora kept his voice steady as he called for everyone's attention, asking for a small group of scouts to form to survey the damages and determine everything that would need to be repaired while the rest found a suitable campsite. A group moved aside, a young chuunin taking its lead before they set out, the boy's name escaping Tsukiyo's thoughts though he recognized him.... The chuunin's family had died in the attack, yet his spirit seemed high for now. Off the group of five went towards the ruins.
"I know a place everyone can stay. It'll be a tight fit, but it's better than nothing. My uncle's a priest at a run-down temple a couple hours away from the main... where the main gates used to be."
Gray eyes settled on the brunette, amethyst-eyed boy who had spoken up, placing him in his memory as someone determined to get through life with just the basic skills of shinobi and his own wits.... Saichi-kun, that was it. He'd often seen him in the library.... Tsukiyo nodded.
"Lead the way."