Konan

The three of them were filled with so much love for each other it hurt her sometimes. In her dreams she saw their faces – white and pale from barely any food. Thin and bony arms, but their eyes were strong – so strong – and beautiful – so beautiful – that it made everything else okay.

Because they were full of love. And love was stronger then anything.

It seemed to her that the three of them were perfect. They had the right number of people so that everyone was loyal and loving and protective of one another. It was the perfect number to snuggle up in a blanket in cold nights, and to lie on the grass in the summer. It was the perfect number to steal without people noticing, to make sure everyone had each others back. It was not too much not too little. It was strawberry, vanilla and chocolate icecream.

She had never thought of any issues with three before.

She helped Nagato and Nagato helped Yahiko and Yahiko helped her, and the circle went round and round and no one was forgotten.

And then Yahiko died, trying to save her. And then Nagato died, trying to save Yahiko's dream, and suddenly there seemed to be a big problem with three, because three wasn't enough.

Yahiko saved her. Nagato saved Yahiko. But she could save no one, because she was last.

Konan places two paper flowers at the base of the tree.

She loved them so much it hurt more then life and death ever could. She would never love any one or any thing or any place as much as she had loved them And now they were gone.

She was the last one of the three.

Who did she get to save?

no one.