For the longest time, it was cold. Nothing more. There was no light, there was no dark, there was only cold. Nagato didn't know how much time had passed and he didn't care. He just wanted this to stop.
Eventually, his pray was answered. Slowly, the cold went away and was replaced with comfortable warmth. Occasionally a loud, steady beeping would break into his dreamless sleep but it went away soon enough. This lasted far longer than the cold did but it was okay because Nagato was tired. And it was okay because in this warmth, he no longer hurt. He didn't really care if he was dead. If he was, hell was pretty nice. If he wasn't, then Konan must've been taking pretty good care of him because he hadn't felt this nice in a long time.
It happened so slowly that Nagato didn't notice it at first. In place of the silence that had enveloped him for so long, there was a very faint and constant beeping. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't remember what. Now he knew he was alive. Over time, more senses came back and the sounds got louder. He could tell that his fingers were cold, but the rest of his body was warm. He could hear voices, although he couldn't tell what they were saying and that damned beeping was louder than anything. And he could smell… flowers? That didn't fit. But suddenly the sharp stench of hospital-grade antiseptic filled his head. His eyes snapped open and Nagato was finally awake.
Three months, twenty-five days, and six hours. That's how long it had been since Pain had flattened the village. They'd taken it well, the villagers. Just about everything had been rebuilt, and looked even better than before the Six Paths had shown up. But that wasn't what Khana was counting. It had been three months, fourteen days, and six hours since Nagato last opened his eyes.
It was Khana who had convinced Sakura to save their fast fading enemy. The medic, along with Konan, Khana, and Naruto, had done everything she could to keep Nagato alive. At the time, she wasn't too happy about it. But Sakura still stopped by his hospital room on occasion, so Khana figured she had gotten over it. Hatake Khana, on the other hand, had never left. After almost four months, the girl was on first name basis with all of the hospital staff and was up-to-date on every shred of circulating gossip. She showered, ate, and entertained herself in this single room. A friend brought her clean clothes regularly. Konan was around frequently and the two would talk for hours. Over time, the older kunoichi told Khana her whole story. And then Yahiko's. And finally, when it seemed to her that he would never be able to tell his own, she told Nagato's story.
Around the one month mark was when Konan stopped coming every day, Khana noticed. It happened slowly; she missed a day here and there, being busy working with a (now fully recovered) Tsunade. Then she missed two days in a row. Then three. And then she was more often gone than not. That, more than anything, strengthened Khana's resolves to stay. Everyone had given up on these kids once and now, twenty years later, it was happening again.
Two months after Nagato had been admitted, Jiraiya was well enough to visit. The Deva Path had lifted Jiraiya out of the reservoir after the Sannin had been defeated and left him to be found later by ninken. He said hello to Khana and gazed at the comatose Uzumaki sadly, but offered no kind words. He was disappointed, rather than angry, in his former student. He didn't come back.
After three months, Khana's brother's started coming in regularly. Not for Nagato, most secretly wished he would just die already, but for her. They were worried, they said, that she had become fixated on this, on him. At first she argued with them, retorting that he saved them, even bringing some back from the dead, and that he deserved at least one person who still cared. But they wouldn't listen and so Khana found herself ignoring them. The angrier ones, Kakashi, Genma, and Kotetsu, stopped even trying to talk to her after a week. But the others, Hayate especially, would still come in on occasion to sit with her.
Despite this, Khana spent the majority of the third month alone. Nagato had been stable for a long time and his wounds were completely healed. The doctors had taken him off any pain medication and a single nurse came in once a day to replace his IV bags. Khana guessed that even the hospital staff had stopped caring, by this point. But she didn't really blame them. It was very frustrating to be doing everything you could and having your patient show zero signs of improvement, even if he had tried to destroy your family.
But Khana kept busy. She knit a blanket made of silky soft alpaca wool and in the same sandy color of a camel. When an orderly came in to change the bedding, she laid the blanket under the hospital covers to keep the rough fabric off of his sensitive skin. She did his nails, trimming them and filing them and re-painting them weekly with Black Cherry Chutney. She kept his hair neatly combed, pleased with how quickly the red color had come back. At her request, fresh flowers were ordered from Yamanaka Flower Shop daily. After a while, Ino stopped charging her for them, taking pity on her former classmate. She would prune them thoroughly before arranging them nicely in a vase. Usually, there were three separate bouquets sitting on the small bedside table. They made the room smell a little less like a hospital, as if they could both forget where there were.
Khana had just finished filling a glass vase with water from the bathroom sink. She walked over to the side of Nagato's bed, talking as if he could hear her. "Three months, twenty-five days, and six hours," she sighed, placing one brightly colored zinnia after another into the heavy glass cylinder. She didn't notice that Nagato's heart rate was picking up, the beeping of his heart monitor speeding up. She was turned away from him so she didn't see his fingers twitch. Khana started to quietly hum, her bouquet almost finished, and didn't hear Nagato's labored sigh. She turned to look at him at the exact same time Nagato's eyes flew open. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but the only sound was the smashing of glass when the vase slipped through her fingers. In an instant she was gone, teleporting to the Hokage's office and sending a clone off to find Konan.
Nagato winced at the loud crash near his head and squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness of the room. He kept them shut through the talking and prodding of various doctors and nurses. Suddenly everything was too loud and too hot and too bright and too busy. He almost wished he back in the cold.
He refused to open his eyes again until cool fingers brushed his bangs off his forehead. He recognized that scent. Clean and womanly with the unmistakable hint of processed paper. He blinked rapidly, squinting into the fluorescent lighting as his eyes adjusted. Konan was standing over him, smiling. The clatter of the nurses had faded and it was mostly quiet, once again. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," she breathed, her blue eyes getting watery. She had long ago resigned herself to be the last of the Ame Orphans, but now she didn't have to be. Her friend was back. Nagato tried to reach for her hand, but his fingers merely trembled. All he could do was whimper pathetically. Konan's smile grew, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It's good to see you, too, Nagato."