Konan hadn't been entirely sure what to do with herself after the man she'd followed for so many years killed himself. The whole ordeal still seemed so hopelessly confusing even in her recollections. Pein had given up his goal so easily, and all because of the words of one boy. Still, she held no resentment whatsoever towards Naruto Uzumaki.
In respect for her only remaining friend's last wishes, Konan had abandoned the goal Pein worked towards his whole life and rescinded in a moment. She had a general idea of what Madara was planning but never again returned to the organization she once co-led. Now that Pein was dead, she had no more reason to remain in the Akatsuki.
She resumed the running of Amegakure with no trouble. Word of Pein's death hadn't yet spread to its citizens and to avoid impending governmental instability, Konan acted as though he was still living and in power. Nobody in the village had ever laid eyes on him, after all, and so no suspicion was aroused.
So how did she find herself here, running through this forest on the outskirts of Konoha just before daybreak? Moonlight filtered through the leaves and danced on her dark blue hair as her eyes scanned the area, searching for any abnormalities in the earth. Even she wasn't entirely sure why she was bothering with this. Although she'd always been the most merciful and caring of all the Akatsuki, Konan still killed her enemies without guilt when her mission required it and she hadn't grieved the death of each passing member. While they had lived, she'd felt a sort of maternal fondness towards them, one that likely stemmed from being the only female in an organization of men. Still, shinobi lived a life of peril, and she'd never had any problems letting go of the Akatsuki's members after they'd been killed. They'd merely been collateral damage of a world of hatred, every single one of them.
Konan's footsteps finally ceased and she heaved a deep sigh. The situation looked fairly hopeless by this point; after an hour of scouring the forest, she'd found nothing indicative of a sloppily-filled hole. Besides, she had no obligation to tie up these loose ends. Although the circumstances of one member's "death" had always bothered her in some corner of her mind, she knew that feeling was nothing but foolishness. Moreover, he'd been buried for at least two months by this point. There was no chance the man was still living even if he'd been supposedly immortal.
Just as she turned to leave, something caught Konan's eye, and she somehow found herself heading in its direction. Her painted eyes widened as she came upon a large opening in the dirt haphazardly filled a few feet lower than its brim with large rocks.
There was no mistake. This had to be Hidan's grave. Konan shook her head slowly and took one step backwards. He couldn't really be alive underneath that mess somewhere. That was unthinkable. Still, that nagging thought of "what if?" plagued her to no end.
She would only do this to satisfy her irrational curiosity. This would quiet the sickness she couldn't help but feel in the pits of her stomach whenever she was reminded of Hidan's plight.
Excruciating pain was Hidan's everything; it consumed him entirely and became all that he was during those long weeks in that god-forsaken hole. The stench of earth and his own rotting flesh filled his nostrils and only worsened as time continued to slowly tick by. He could feel insects crawl over his skin and fall into his perpetually-open mouth and was entirely helpless to rid himself of an infestation of maggots. What did happiness feel like? Was that the word for how he felt after successfully sacrificing a particularly feisty heathen or eating something delicious? Was there any food left in the world that didn't taste like maggots and blood?
Endless darkness and endless silence surrounded him. There was nobody around even in spite of how passionately he prayed to his god to save him. Jashin never descended from Heaven and rescued him from Hell. He'd been forsaken by his deity.
How many years had gone by so far? Hidan had no semi-accurate sense of time. A week, a month, a decade could have passed and all would have felt exactly the same to him. And yet no matter how desperately he wished for it, Death refused to come. He was most certainly still alive.
Suddenly, he felt like a great weight had been lifted from his burial site, heard a shrill, poorly-suppressed shriek, and shut his left eye involuntarily. What was that sound? He couldn't fathom. It seemed so alien after what very well may have been a lifetime of listening to nothing but the squirming of insects. One of Hidan's eyes had been crushed by a falling rock and the other remained miraculously intact even as centipedes inched across it on their way through the dirt. It took several minutes for his single functioning eye to adjust to the unfamiliar light and open.
The first sight that greeted Hidan above ground was that of a kneeling angel outlined by the backdrop of a brilliant sunrise, crying softly with one hand plastered over her mouth.