Another plane dropped a bomb on the city below, causing a bright orange-yellow light, followed by smoke, turning the land below into dust and pebbles. The people below scurried out of their houses and into their cellars. War was upon them, and it was most definitely not a game.
Most of the men left to protect their country and to protect their family. Most wives lost their husbands, children lost their fathers, siblings lost siblings.
And the Higurashi family was no exception.
Souta watched as the bright lights would fill the dark, night street, lighting up everything, and then leaving. He heard the crashes of bombs and felt the vibrations in his very house. As he looked out the window his thoughts went to his father.
His father had left for World War II as soon as it started, leaving his mom, Mrs. Higurashi, his fifteen-year-old sister, Kagome, his seven-year-old sister, Rin, and his eighteen-year-old brother, Hojo. And he had not yet come back.
How he missed him so. Tears would form in his brown eyes almost every night, remembering how his father would always read him a bedtime story; he would sometimes even sing him songs to sleep.
Souta was eight when he left, he was now nine, but even though he felt like he was grownup, he still wished he could hear those bedtime stories and songs at night from his beloved father. Mrs. Higurashi did read to him instead, and Souta thanked her for her effort, but it was never the same.
Another bomb erupted, this one too close to the house for comfort. But Souta didn't even flinch; war to him now was a normal nighttime event.
But Mrs. Higurashi came running towards him, 'Shut those curtains!' she yelled, fearing for her son's life, she yanked the curtains and shut them, her hands shaking. She picked up her son and fled down the hall.
She ran upstairs and was greeted by her eighteen-year-old son, Hojo, running down, wide-eyed.
Mrs. Higurashi looked up at him, 'Get Kagome and Rin!'
Hojo immediately ran up the stairs and rapped wildly on the girl's door. Kagome was already up, scurrying around her room. She shook her younger sister, 'Rin! Come up! Get up!'
When Rin woke up enough to hear the knocking and the sounds of planes and bombs, she jumped up, grabbing Kagome's hand, she ran to the door, opening it, Hojo ran down the stairs and led them to the cellar. They could see their mother just opening the door and pushing Souta in.
Mrs. Higurashi waited for her three other children, once they were in she slammed the door behind them. And then it was darkness and the sound of bombs and airplanes that greeted them for the rest of the night.
The train-station was bustling with people, children and parents hurrying around. Everyone was here to send their children to a safer place until the war was over. "Wars don't last forever," Kagome would always say to Rin in attempts to make the seven-year-old girl feel better. But Kagome had a feeling it didn't, because Rin would just smile.
The Higurashi family pushed their way through the crowd, holding their luggage and trying to make sure the five of them didn't get lost. They stood before the train; children were already getting on, parents crying, grandparents waving.
Kagome looked to her mother, 'We won't be gone long, Mom,' she said, trying to fight back tears, but some still came.
Mrs. Higurashi smiled warmly and nodded, 'I know dear,' she said, tears streaming down her face.
Rin hugged her mother, crying, 'I don't want to leave you, Mom.'
This only make Mrs. Higurashi cry more, she hugged her daughter back, 'but you must, Rin. Hojo, please do take care of them, and yourself, and listen to your brother, guys.'
All four of them nodded, hugging their mother and giving her kisses on the cheeks. Many tears were shed, and then –
Hojo looked at his mother, 'That's our call, come on guys.' He gathered the other three, ready to leave, and they looked at their mother one last time before they got on the train.
Little did they know despite their long, exhausting train ride ahead; they were headed towards the biggest and best adventure in their life.