Disclaimer – I don't own Naruto
A/N – Inspired by chapter 511. I haven't included dialogue on purpose, since I'm trying a different writing style. Drabble-ish, based on the Ame orphans, from Konan's perspective. Please leave a review!
*/^_^\
The first time she met Yahiko, she had been curled up inside a cave, shivering, the death of her parents imprinted heavily in her tender mind.
He offered her a soggy blanket, his ruddy face unusually bright, and explained that he, like her, was a war orphan.
They sat together, sheltered by the cave, as the rain pounded down outside.
She was shy, but he chattered endlessly, and after the storm passed, he suggested that they travel together.
She hesitatingly agreed.
She was a lonely little girl, after all, and this boy seemed strong, and his eyes were also glittering with a happiness that she'd abandoned weeks ago.
*/^_^\
The first time she met Nagato, he was sprawled on the ground, damp red hair plastered over his haggard face. There was a little dog scampering around next to him, pawing at his body.
She offered him bread, smiling warmly, and he took it, tentatively, struggling to sit up.
She'd been travelling with just Yahiko for a month, and though she enjoyed the cheerful boy's company, she felt pity for the bedraggled redhead.
She asked if he wanted to accompany them, and he stared at her out of one strange purple eye, before agreeing.
Yahiko didn't mind Nagato, and quickly taught him the 'ways of survival' in a boisterous, bossy way.
Nagato had been a lonely little boy, but after a week with his new companions, Konan noticed a rare glint in his odd purple eyes; he seemed happier than before.
*/^_^\
They were quite a successful team; the three of them and the scraggly dog Chibi.
They soon gathered rations and food stores, manipulating and tricking stall owners and grocers. Konan would distract them with her wide-eyed innocence, while Yahiko would swipe a bunch of juicy tomatoes. Or, Yahiko would annoy them with his clownish antics; and when their wrath was focused on berating the orange-haired boy, Nagato would silently push a few loaves of bread into the folds of his shirt.
They were thieves, but they survived, and that was enough. Konan found she didn't mind her life so much, spending evenings swaddled in blankets among mountains of food, giggling as Yahiko narrated one of his recent escapades, or boasted about becoming a world leader and achieving world peace.
They were dreams, little wishes, which helped them get through the gloomy months. They never suspected the reality that would be born of them.
*/^_^\
A year later, and their food rations ran out. Their little village of Amegakure was destroyed by grenades and enemy shinobi. There were no more grocers who could give them food.
Starved and exhausted, but not lacking in hope, the three war orphans trudged through the ruins of their city, looking for refuge, and a meal.
They hadn't eaten in days. But Yahiko wasn't one to give up, and he urged the other two onwards, promising that they would find shelter somewhere.
*/^_^\
An exploding kunai exploded near the wrong victim, and Nagato was inconsolable as he held the limp body of their dog-friend to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.
Yahiko comforted him with harsh words and annoyed glances. To the logical Yahiko, it was just a dog, another mouth to feed; and Nagato was being a baby.
Konan comforted him with kind words and sympathetic glances, patting him on the back; Chibi had been a friend, a part of their little family.
Still, they had to continue on without him.
*/^_^\
They'd stumbled upon many shinobi during their travels, but none of them had entranced them as the trio fighting Hanzo, the leader of Amegakure.
They watched, crouched behind rocks, as the blonde-haired woman punched holes into the ground with her fist. The shinobi with long black hair (they couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman) weaved gracefully around her, using the boulders she sent up as both defences and attacking points, as his fingers slid through hand signs, or sent out gleaming metallic weapons.
The white-haired man was the coolest though, at least according to Nagato, as he belched out blazing fireballs that incinerated the enemy.
The three ninja managed to reach some kind of a consensus with Hanzo, and then regrouped and sped off, leaping in perfect harmony.
The three little war-orphans scrambled after them, their short legs pumping to keep up with the impossible speed set by the shinobi.
*/^_^\
They finally found them, seeking refuge in a cave, eating biscuits.
Yahiko sent Konan and Nagato out first, and then arrived himself. They asked for food, and the white-haired man and blonde woman gave it to them.
They devoured the biscuits greedily – the first food they'd had in days.
Nagato and Konan were satisfied. Yahiko was not.
He insisted that they follow the ninja, and ask them for training.
He had told them that they would become ninja as well and learn ninjutsu. That way they could become powerful and wouldn't have to depend on others for survival.
*/^_^\
The blonde woman had said nothing, slightly surprised when Konan offered them a paper flower she had made in thanks.
The pale black-haired man looked sympathetic. His green eyes were sad when he suggested killing them, and Konan found herself fearing him more than hating him.
The blonde-haired woman and the white-haired man both shot down this idea immediately, to Konan's relief.
Then the white-haired man agreed to train them, and Konan was overjoyed. She knew Yahiko was too, from the way his face lit up in a dazzling grin. His happiness was contagious.
After a short, hushed argument, the white-haired man sent off his two teammates, and accompanied the three orphans.
From then on, he wasn't some shinobi any longer.
He was their Jiraiya-sensei.
*/^_^\
The three years spent in Jiriaya's tutelage were probably the best three years of Konan's life.
He build them a cozy little home, with wooden floors and a dining area, and little beds piled up in the corner. There was a large glass window near which Konan liked to sit, observing the pelting rain.
He began training them as well, in the basics of ninjutsu – chakra control and river-walking, hand seals, basic elemental jutsu.
Yahiko was the most exuberant to learn, practicing and training hard. He was probably the strongest as well, though he tended to be impulsive and clumsy.
Nagato was quieter, and less willing to battle, but when he did, his jutsus were commendable.
Konan found she could specialize in ninjutsu as well. Jiraiya taught her interesting ways to add chakra to her origami creations, and soon Konan was inventing her own jutsus from what had once been a mere artistic hobby.
And after hours of training in the rain, the three little ninja would go in turn for warm baths, and then crowd together around the little table as Jiraiya-sensei entertained them with various anecdotes about his teammates Tsunade-hime and Orochimaru-baka – or read out excerpts from the new book he was writing.
They were a family again, and Konan liked this new life.
*/^_^\
The most amusing afternoon, and quite frankly the most idiotic, was when they had somehow found themselves sitting in little frog-suits Jiraiya had forced them into, using ninjutsu when they had expressed their disagreement.
Konan felt rather ridiculous, clad in the puffy, foamy green suit, her face poking out of the gaping mouth of a frog head-piece. But then she saw Yahiko's enraged expression as he took in his own frog costume – and Nagato's bewildered and mildly amused one – and couldn't help but giggle loudly.
Jiraiya, looking even more ludicrous in his own frog costume beamed at them, and began explaining the point of the entire exercise, and the new 'hop-in' cards he had designed as a safety device.
He then showed them a secret door, to a secret passage, to a secret room where they could take refuge. There was also a secret exit, in case they needed to escape. It was all perfect, and Konan had never felt so secure in her life.
They trained that day, frog costumes and all, and when Yahiko pumped his fist and screeched that he would become the ruler of the world, his froggy mask bobbing as he grinned lecherously in an attempt to mimic Jiraiya, Konan burst out laughing. It was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.
Jiraiya fumed at the impersonation, shouting about hop-in cards, and Yahiko winked at her cheekily, continuing the mimicry. Konan felt her cheeks flush, and her heart skipped a beat, even though she knew it was a joke.
Beside her, Nagato clenched his fist slightly, his eyes drinking in Konan's expression, before he broke into a smile.
*/^_^\
Nagato was more powerful than he looked. He proved it one day, when he killed a bunch of enemies without moving a muscle, saving Yahiko.
He was traumatized after the event; it had been his first kill.
Though strong, he'd always been a peaceful boy, with an aversion to the idea of taking lives. It was usually Yahiko or Jiraiya who did the actual killing, if rarely required.
He wept and wept, shaken by the occurrence, though Yahiko was singing his praises, for once not teasing him.
Konan couldn't comfort him after that. Only Jiraiya could.
*/^_^\
Months flew by, and they grew stronger – and older.
Konan noticed the change in herself, and in her teammates.
She was taller, had begun developing curves, her features more feminine as the chubby cheeks and baby fat disappeared with training.
Nagato had grown taller than her, and he was lean and looked the oldest, even though he was shorter than Yahiko.
Yahiko had grown taller, and more built, and Konan often found herself admiring his muscles. He had a charismatic personality, and radiated happiness. His eyes always sparkled and there was a perpetual grin on his chiselled features.
Their jutsu were far more advanced as well. They could fight off enemies even without Jiraiya.
But they could never defeat Jiraiya himself in a spar, even when it was three on one.
And though they were more mature, they still played silly little word games and acted out the more humorous scenes from Jiraiya's books as they crowded around their dinner table, devouring Konan and Nagato's favourite meal of fish (Yahiko loved practically anything that existed and was edible) which they usually caught using their ninjutsu.
More often than not Jiraiya caught Nagato staring longingly at Konan staring longingly at Yahiko staring longingly at the food on his plate, waiting to be devoured.
*/^_^\
When they finally defeated Jiraiya in a spar, he left them, saying he had taught them all he could.
It was a solemn parting, and they stared through the sheets of rain at Jiraiya's retreating back, a feeling of emptiness welling in their hearts.
Nagato cried, though Konan held herself back; Yahiko didn't like seeing them cry.
But at night, when she buried her face in her pillow, she missed her Jiraiya-sensei, and wept, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she cried for the man that had been not just a teacher, but a father to them.
She didn't know, but on the bed to her left, Yahiko was doing the same, his teeth clenched tightly.
*/^_^\
Yahiko took on the role of unofficial leader once again, after Jiraiya left.
It was more difficult after that. They had to fight alone. The laughs during dinners grew less frequent, as there were no more boisterous jokes or hilarious tales. There were no more frog summons to patrol the surroundings, and they had to sacrifice their sleep in turns to take nightly watches, though Konan suspected Yahiko always woke her and Nagato up later than their watch timing, just to allow them a couple more hours of sleep at the cost of his own.
But the bond between them grew tighter, and Konan began to become aware of her growing feelings for her cheerful, orange-haired partner, as she fingered the red surface of his 'hop-in' card, remembering an afternoon from what seemed like a different lifetime.
*/^_^\
One day, after a particularly vicious battle, Yahiko broke his arm.
Nagato had gone to collect food, and Konan was in the house, tending to Yahiko's injury.
She gently wrapped bandages around the injury, as he winced and cried out.
Feeling his gaze on her, she looked up apologetically.
Konan felt the air change between them at that moment – Yahiko's eyes were wide, and curious, full of some unreadable emotion. They were close, very close, and the house was silent.
She'd always found his open face handsome, and he was staring at her with an expression of mingled shock and longing.
Konan felt her heart flutter as the calloused pads of fingers brushed against her arm, nudging her slightly. She leaned in, and he did as well.
She could feel Yahiko's breath on her lips, his spiky hair tickling her forehead, and Konan's eyes fluttered shut.
At that moment, the door flung open, signalling Nagato's return, and Konan jerked away, and fled, blushing furiously.
They never discussed the almost-kiss, but Konan could feel the tension that hung in the air after that between them. She could feel the deliberate lingering of Yahiko's protective touches – a hand on her waist, or wrist – and the increasing frequency of his gaze.
But they were at war, attempting to form a new peace organization called the Akatsuki – and there was no time for things like love.
*/^_^\
The Akatsuki's initial purpose was peace, and they preferred working through diplomacy, rather than fighting
Yahiko recruited many shinobi, united by the same beliefs and inspired by Yahiko's convincing words.
They donned black cloaks with red clouds, signifying the bloody rain shed during the Second Shinobi World War – and commenced their plans.
They were met with moderate success, and it was ironic and rather heartbreaking that the Akatsuki, Yahiko's creation, which was meant to be a peace organization soon transmogrified into the most deadly terrorist group in shinobi history.
*/^_^\
Over the months, Konan's feelings for Yahiko grew stronger and stronger, until she was convinced she was in love with him.
She loved Nagato as well – only differently, like a brother.
But her feelings were never addressed, and years passed, and Konan finally began to accept that perhaps Yahiko never felt for her in a romantic sense, and the almost-kiss had been an impulsive thing, something from their more immature, childish past.
They were young adults now, the destiny of Rain resting on their shoulders.
*/^_^\
But on February the 20th, Konan and Yahiko's joint birthday – they received a message from Hanzo, the leader of Rain.
He'd agreed to come to an agreement with them, and had asked them to meet them the next evening.
Yahiko was overjoyed – it was the best birthday present he could have asked for. He'd been lobbying for peaceful dialogue with Hanzo for months, but it had seemed futile.
That evening, when Nagato was out patrolling, Konan found Yahiko staring at her from across the room with smouldering eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she had no time to think, for he had crossed the room in seconds, grabbing her around the waste and pulling her into him, pressing his lips against hers.
It was an awkward kiss at first, but it soon grew passionate, as Yahiko pried Konan's mouth open with his tongue, slipping it inside, his hands wandering under her cloak and over her body, cupping her curves through skintight fabric. Konan responded with enthusiasm, her head reeling and her heart fluttering wildly as she succumbed to his touches, allowing him to explore her body as she raked her nails across his hard chest.
It was the best birthday present she could have asked for.
*/^_^\
The next evening, Konan gasped and choked in Hanzo's clutches, as Yahiko and Nagato stared at her with desperate, flashing eyes.
Hanzo had betrayed them.
Nagato picked up the kunai Hanzo had thrown to the ground below, his hands trembling.
He wouldn't kill Yahiko. There was no way.
But Hanzo threatened to kill Konan, and Konan silently prepared herself for death, urging her teammates to take the opportunity and escape.
Yahiko's hard, blazing eyes met hers, and they were filled with anger, and determination and – was it love?
Konan screamed silently, feeling the air ripped from her lungs as Yahiko dashed towards Nagato, impaling himself on the kunai in Nagato's hands.
Nagato looked stunned, as Yahiko's body slumped over his, like an embrace.
Konan felt as if her world had been turned upside down.
She didn't even care – didn't even notice – as Hanzo made a move to kill her.
It was only once she found herself in Nagato's arms, did she begin thinking again.
*/^_^\
Nagato killed Hanzo, fuelled by hatred after Yahiko's death.
Konan's felt her already broken heart shatter even further as he jeopardized his life, endangering himself with a hazardous jutsu, chakra rods sticking out from his back.
It was just the two of them, after that.
They were broken, and without Yahiko, they were alone.
*/^_^\
Konan and Nagato found solace in each other, and the Akatsuki began working again.
After Yahiko's death, however, it ended up transforming, it's motives warping, and it's functions changing entirely.
Missing-nin and wanted criminals, who had either been betrayed or had betrayed their villages joined the ranks.
A grumpy, disfigured man named Kakuzu with six hearts.
A red-haired puppet-user from Sand named Sasori.
A goofy, loud man with an orange spiral mask named Tobi.
A creature who resembled a Venus Flytrap more than a human called Zetsu.
A man who resembled a mutated shark and carried a gargantuan sword named Kisame.
Jiraiya's old teammate, the black-haired man who they remembered as Orochimaru-baka.
A grey-haired, foul-mouthed, immortal religious fanatic named Hidan.
A stoic teenager with flashing red eyes, also from Jiraiya's village Konohakagure named Itachi.
A blonde, blue-eyed teenager named Deidara who was obsessed with explosives and art.
They were all powerful in their own ways, but Konan never felt as secure as she had with the original Akatsuki headed by Yahiko.
And she never felt entirely comfortable, as their aims changed from peace – to capturing Jinchuuriki and overthrowing the Leaf village.
*/^_^\
When Konan first saw Yahiko's body, alive and walking, with various chakra rods piercing his face and arms, his bright eyes replaced by Nagato's Rinnegan, she almost had a heart attack.
Yet, he was Nagato's first and dearest recreation – they called him the Deva Path.
Konan knew he wasn't actually living – but yet she felt her heartstrings throb whenever she saw his familiar features and the blank expression on a face that had always been laughing.
*/^_^\
Nagato soon took on a new alias – Pain.
He was considered Godly with his talents, a prodigal figure to be feared and respected.
Yet to Konan, he was always Nagato, the boy who she had saved years ago from starvation, the boy who had sat next to her in a frog costume, laughing at Yahiko's antics, and the man who had risked his life to save hers.
He was also the boy who loved her, and Konan wished she could love him in the same way.
If he was God, with his power and puissance – she was God's Angel, with her paper wings, wishing she could fly.
*/^_^\
When they killed Jiraiya, Konan knew that deep down, Nagato was hurting from guilt as well.
She certainly was.
There was nothing she had regretted more in her life.
Still, they had done it, regardless of the pain it cost them.
Pain was not a new concept for them, emotional or physical.
*/^_^\
The invasion of Konoha had been a success – until Naruto Uzumaki arrived.
Naruto Uzumaki was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed manifestation of Yahiko as a boy.
He had the same cheeky grin, the same sparkle in his eyes, the same confidence, the same beliefs.
He was a student of Jiraiya, carrying Jiraiya's legacy forward.
Konan remembered his name – from a book that Jiraiya had read aloud to them decades ago, a book about a brave boy who destroyed evil.
Was it a coincidence?
Naruto convinced Konan, and he convinced Nagato as well, and Konan felt the remaining splinters of her heart shrivel up when Nagato performed a jutsu that would end his life
Still, he went honourably, and she wrapped up his body in paper, along with that of Yahiko in the Deva Path, and left Konoha, offering Naruto peace and a bouquet of paper flowers.
*/^_^\
Konan quit the Akatsuki, returned to Amegakure, to the old home Jiraiya had made for them. She hadn't been there in decades.
Their home was barely recognizable, with cracks and holes in the walls and ceilings, covered with fungus, creeping vines, and even gnarled tree trunks and branches which had forced their way through the floor.
Konan placed her friends' bodies on a bed of roses in their old 'living room'.
And after paying her respects, Konan turned her head upwards, to where three small cards remained intact, nestled among the twisted foliage and branches.
They stood in a line, colored frogs beaming at her from the leaves.
Three cards for three little war orphans – Konan, Yahiko, Nagato.
She flipped over the last two hop-in cards, an action she hadn't done in years, until their red sides were showing.
She then turned to the other side of the room, where a fourth and larger card stood out among the greenery – she flipped over Jiraiya's hop-in card as well.
Then she sat down amongst the tree roots poking out of the ground where their dining table had once stood, placed her head in her hands, and wept.
*/^_^\
Konan trained for the next few months, preparing for the inevitable battle against Madara Uchiha.
She made paper tags, millions of them, and explosive ones too.
She practiced, with dozens of simulations, ensuring perfect success each time.
Nagato's serene face and Yahiko's smiling ones filled her mind as she persevered, fighting on.
She would do this – for them, and for what they believed in.
*/^_^\
When Madara's encounter came, Konan was expecting it, and she was well-prepared.
She knew the limitations of his space-time jutsus and used them to her advantage as she buried him in a sea of paper, setting off her ten-minute explosion.
What she didn't expect though, was a new technique, the Izanagi – and when Madara snuck up behind her, his mask fragmented, Konan knew it was over.
She didn't mind dying though, as memories of her past flashed through her mind.
She lay in the pooling water, rain drenching her body as she felt the life ebbing away from her.
Konan didn't mind though – she was returning to them.
To Jiraiya, and to Nagato.
To Yahiko.
At last, they would be a family again.
*/^_^\
A/N – I love the story of the Ame Orphans. It's touching, heart-wrenching and sweet. I hope I've given it justice. And you gotta love the Akatsuki in froggy costumes, it's adorable! I love Jiraiya's crazy ideas! Please review and let me know what you think :)