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Colours In Her Hair
They make for very un-stealthy shinobi, the three of them – Yahiko's orange hair is bad enough in a colourless country, but Nagato's been blessed with red hair and Konan's had the wonderful fortune to get blue. It's as if all the colours worth seeing in Amegakure uprooted itself one day and decided to lodge on their heads, leaving shades of grey, brown, and black for the landscape around them. They stick out like beacons in the dark, visible from miles away, their hair draining the land of life and vitality.
However, the orange mop and the red mop are just that – orange and red. All one shade and unchanging. Reliable. Obedient. The sun reflects off it evenly, reflecting a solid block of colour.
Konan's hair though, Yahiko thinks, is entirely different. Yahiko thinks it's something like blue-black-that's-way-more-blue-than-black – but that eloquent description changes on a daily basis, because it's never quite the same two days in a row. Konan's hair is erratic, volatile, unpredictable, unbearably distracting. Most of her hair is that impossible tint of blue, but up close, Yahiko can see that some strands are different colours altogether. They bend and swerve and cut the light and scatter it - chestnut brown and coal black and mahogany and chocolate brown and dark auburn; it makes a rainbow of its own. Each strand too, has minute shades within it – fractionally darker at the roots, imperceptibly lighter at the tips. It makes her hair shimmer in the sunlight and sparkle under the moon and stars. The rain makes her glow with an ethereal quality; the hair sticks to her head and face and the droplets magnify the tones of her hair. You can only see it if you're paying attention, but once it's caught your eye, you can't look away.
Konan snorts, in her happy brand of cynicism, and makes a damn good genjutsu out of it.