Our story begins on a beautiful morning. The sun was just about to rise; breaking the darkness that covered the world with reds and golds peeking through the gaps in the mountains and lighting the sky like a scene out of a play. The birds were chirping in the vast forests, bringing the firsts sounds to break the silence. At the coasts, the birds' songs were not quite as pleasant and the voice of a gull could barely be called song.
The village itself, which would only have looked like a fly's waste on the map if it had been on one, never slept. When those who lived the day began to get up, those who lived the night were just going to bed. With all the burning, red lights of the small village, people rarely took the time to enjoy the sun's rise.
Despite this day being a beautiful one, by all means, it was not a special day. Special days were rare in this small village. They had their festivals, of course, but for a place that prides itself with being one of entertainment, the festivities of those arrangements were just routine.

As a village divided into people of the day and people of the night, the regular citizens rarely paid any heed to those in the middle; the shinobi and kunoichi of their village. Their warriors and their guards; the ones that kept them safe from the wicked ways of the outside world and made it possible for the small village to remain one of entertainment by their own rights, rather than following the word of a larger village. 

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Haruka groaned deeply in the back of her throat when she felt the burning sensation of sunlight filtering through her eyelids and turned to her other side, immediately regretting her decision to move. It was as if even the small movement of turning around made her room dance and she had to open her eyes because it felt as if her bed was spinning around. Her vision was blurry and stars danced before her eyes. She blinked a few times, trying to gain some sort of grip on reality.

She had only gotten home to her tiny apartment a few hours earlier and even though she felt like she had been electrocuted repeatedly by a ridiculously powerful raiton-user, she swung her legs over the edge of her bed and sat up straight. She had to take a moment to keep down stomach contents as she felt as though she had just done 80 cartwheels one after another. She stood and paused again, steadying herself on uncertain legs. With determination usually only seen in the gaze of shinobi fighting for their lives, she trekked to the bathroom, knelt in front of the toilet and heaved.

After brushing her teeth very thoroughly, taking a cold shower and getting dressed in clean clothes that did not smell like the floor of a public restroom, Haruka felt better. She did not feel good, but it was better. She did her usual morning routine, starting with stretching her sore limbs. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire. She winced at the usual tug on her abs the scar across her abdomen always caused and opted against stretching her left arm, already feeling as though the formerly-torn tissue of her bicep had been pierced by a branch anew. Instead of dwelling on the memories that threatened to surface, Haruka slipped on her sandals, locked the door behind her and ran.

Usually, she ran around the village once, climbed a mountain and took a nap up there. After finishing her usual lap, she stood before the mountainside and did just not feel it. Her head was still spinning and just the thought of using her sore arm made it sting. She decided to keep running, instead, and push the limits of her own stamina. Running was good for her lungs, anyways and she had had trouble breathing after her last session of training with her water technique.