How long had it been? Ten years? Fifteen? Still, she remembered it so
well. As if she wanted to wash the memory away, Konan looked up and let the
cool rain hit her face. Ten years.
It had all been her fault, after all. Being captured like that. If she
had just made the hand seal, then it wouldn't have happened. Then she
would have been able to turn into paper and she would have killed her
captors herself. If only she had had those seconds. Instead, Yahiko had
died and Nagato had lost the use of his legs. All for that stupid
mistake. With a swift motion, she turned around and walked into the strange
building. Nagato didn't know his favourite spot was also frequented by
Konan. Such a wonderful view. It all fit so perfectly. The weeping
country, ruled by the God who could not forget. Nagato... She sighed.
Despite her saving his life that one time when they were children,
despite being such good friends, Yahiko's death had estranged them. He
had been the glue holding them together without them even knowing it.
Maybe Nagato blamed her for what had happened, just as much as she blamed
herself. Maybe he knew why she blindly did as instructed, went along
with his plans despite not agreeing with him at times. She was an
atoner and she owed him her life for costing him his legs. And Yahiko.
Days went by so slowly. Nagato rarely spoke to her and she couldn't
leave as she pleased. Being the second-in-command to a God had its
complications. Origami was a passion, sure, but when one can fold and
create the most fascinating shapes on a whim, it loses some of its
appeal. Anyway, just origami and flower pressing wasn't enough to kill
all this time. What more could she do than think back on the happy
times, those she desperately wanted to keep safe?