Chapter Ten
As iron in water and stone in fire

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In her dreams she sees a shadow. It is small and quick and climbs the walls of her room. It has a tail. A flat, wide head. A salamander. It descends to the floor and suddenly it emerges as a big shadow that looks down on her and breathes heavily, as if using a mask.
Hold your breath.

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Behold the girl. She is pale and wears amber in her eyes. She often smiles. Outside the cave where she barely eats the endless rain falls and reflects in her eyes and beyond sounds the crashing of the thunders that are part of her dreams. She comes from a peasant family and had parents she will never see again. Pale and dirty, she stares. She barely knows how to read and write but has a way with paper. It bends to her will. One of the few memories she has of her mother is her telling her that she was born with something that used to run in the family and was thought to be extinct. Something lost. She bends it with her mind and makes it travel and she feels it and feels the drops of that rain that is her sadness and everyone's sadness fall into collision there in the ground as an immense gathering of the tears of this world.

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The rain fell in a soft, persistent drizzle, a shroud of water that blurred the line between sky and earth. Konan stood alone, her gaze fixed on the darkened horizon, where the village of Konoha awaited. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, heavier than any paper she could weave. She had long since abandoned the notion that she could control fate. It had slipped through her fingers, like the delicate sheets of paper she once held with such care, disintegrating in the wind.

Her mind drifted back—far back—before the rain became a companion in her solitude, before the memories of blood and pain took root. She remembered the soft hum of the village in her youth, the endless stretch of her dreams, and the belief that there could be peace. It was a time before war had scarred her heart, before Nagato had become a vessel of vengeance.

She remembered the eyes of the three of them bound together by the dream of a peaceful world. They shared that dream, a fragile vision woven together with their hearts, an idealistic thread that had been ripped apart the moment the rain began to fall harder than any of them had anticipated.

Yahiko died first. A sacrifice, she thought. A symbol for the cause. His death, like a cruel echo, had fractured something in her heart. She had held the pieces together, for a time, just as she had held Nagato's fragile soul in her hands when he was consumed by grief. But it was too late. Pain had set in. The dream had been drowned in blood. No matter how much she had tried to shield it, it had been taken from her.

Then came the time when they, the last remnants of the Akatsuki, stood on the precipice of a new beginning, a beginning forged from a twisted sense of vengeance. The need to make the world bleed for what it had stolen from them. Peace through destruction. Breaking the world to such a point to eradicate the possibility of war. Nagato, and his Rinnegan. His path was irreversible now, the weight of his decision too great for any of them to escape. And she? What of her? She had followed him, just as she had once followed Yahiko. Her hands had become stained with the same blood.

There was no turning back from this, from the storm they were about to unleash. She had come to accept that the pain of the past would not simply disappear with time, that the sorrow for those lost would not be washed away. She had mourned Yahiko for too long, and Nagato, broken as he was, had become her anchor in the storm. But now, her own heart felt like a storm within her. Torn between the loyalty she felt for him and the remnants of the girl she once was.

She closed her eyes, listening to the rain as it washed over the world, the steady rhythm almost a lullaby to her fractured soul. She could still remember the way Yahiko smiled at her, his laughter cutting through the tension of their early days. She could still remember Nagato's gentle eyes before they had hardened, before his heart had been weighed down by the pain of the world.

And now, here she was, preparing to betray everything that she had once believed in. She would walk into Konoha, a part of the storm she had helped create, and destroy everything they had fought to protect. But this, this was not the vision she had dreamed of. This was not the peace she had wanted. But what was the point of fighting against it now?

She took one last, slow breath, letting it fill her chest, feeling the dampness of the air as it clung to her skin. The choices had been made. There would be no turning back. She would walk beside Nagato, and they would bring their storm to Konoha, and then to the world. But deep within, she knew, the girl who had once believed in peace remained.

And as the rain fell, the only thing she could hear was the faint sound of her heart breaking.

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She woke up. That dream again. The rain had not stopped. It never truly did here, in the heart of Amegakure. The skies always heavy with unshed tears. The sound of it a constant companion, a steady backdrop to her thoughts, to the silent tension that had filled the space between her and Naruto.

It had been years since she had allowed herself to be this close to someone, and yet, here she was, lying beside him in the quiet of the night. The room was dim, only a sliver of moonlight cutting through the clouds that filtered the world into shadows. There were no words between them now. No need for them. The weight of the past had been shared in fleeting moments of quiet understanding—each breath, each shared look, a conversation in itself.

Her eyes traced the silhouette of the young man she had once seen as the bridge to peace, and now… now she saw him as something deeper, more complicated. He was warmth, he was hope.

She felt him shift in the bed, his body moving closer to hers, the heat from his skin radiating under the thin blanket, touching her own skin. Her breath caught for a moment, and for an instant, she wished she could say something —anything— that could explain this connection. But none would make sense of what she was feeling now.

Naruto's presence was a comforting weight, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, his breath warm against the back of her neck. She could feel his hand, gently resting near her waist, the fingers brushing her skin just enough to remind her that he was real. His touch was unhurried, almost reverent, as though he, too, understood from the depth of his dream the delicate balance they were walking. The hand remained there, an anchor, a reassurance that, for now, everything could be quiet, could be still.

But stillness wasn't what she had expected. It wasn't what she had known all her life. Pain had been the rhythm she was accustomed to, the cold distance of her own isolation. And yet, here in the dark, she felt something else. Something that whispered of healing.

She felt him shift again, his arm gently curling around her, pulling her closer into the circle of his embrace. Her body responded automatically, fitting against his with a tenderness that startled her. She had never allowed herself to be this close to anyone since the days of Nagato and Yahiko. Never allowed anyone the proximity to see her so vulnerable, so… human. But with him, there was no judgment. Only acceptance. She could feel it in the way he held her, the softness of his touch, as though she were something fragile, precious.

And yet, despite the calmness of his hold, there was something raw beneath the surface. His body, firm and warm against hers, was a testament to the battles he had fought. He had seen much, suffered much. And despite that, he sought connection. He sought serenity.

With her.

The rain came again. It filled the room. She could taste it in the air, could feel it on her skin. It had been with her from the beginning, the rain. From the first day of her life, it had been there, a constant, never-ending thing, washing away the sins of the world but never purging them. Never making them right.

She closed her eyes and pressed her palm to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. A reminder they were both still here.

Naruto was not Nagato. He was not the man she had once followed into the depths of pain. His warmth was not a burden; it was a sanctuary. She wished to breathe in that warmth, to relax against it.

The rain fell. The world turned. And for once, she could not hear it. Only the steady thrum of that heart beneath her palm. The warmth of his body against hers, as if the two of them could hold the weight of the world at bay. For a brief, fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe that she could heal. That perhaps, in this strange, unspoken bond they shared, there was hope.

She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, or the days after that. But for tonight, as the rain continued to fall outside and the world beyond their small room seemed a distant echo, she let herself stay here. In his arms. Just for now.

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"Are you sure?"

They were in one of the large underground rooms. Crypt silence. Nothing in that underground hall but the scroll unrolled at their feet. A summoning seal. A single name in strokes already gnawed by time.

"Just be careful with her," Konan said. "We don't know how she'll react when she sees it wasn't her master who summoned her."

Naruto contemplated the scroll.

"Any other advice?"

A piece of paper had detached itself from her and flew in butterfly form to his shoulder, landing as it had that time in Konoha, to watch and listen along with him.

"Yes," she said, already retreating from the place and about to close the door to leave him alone. "Hold your breath".

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A splashing sound, and then, as if a huge tongue was sliding wet and sticky on the ground. A smell of mud, of something that came from the water and slid between the rocks. In the darkness of the cold hall, he could barely see his giant shadow in front of him. Still, as if it were a predator. Or perhaps like a curious, almost childlike observer.

"Who are you?"

The slow, wet voice. A steady salivating sound inside what sounded like her mouth. Naruto remembered to hold his breath. He felt his heart pulse against his ribs.

"I'm the one who summoned you."

"You're not Hanzo."

"I'm not," and he held his breath again.

He noticed, in the massiveness of the huge shadow, that he drew back, as if about to blurt out something guarded.

"I am a student of Jiraiya," he said, and the salamander froze again.

"Jiraiya," she said, memorably. "Jiraiya, Tsunade, Orochimaru."

"Yes."

"His student killed him," Ibuse said. "Nagato killed my summoner, Hanzo."

"I'm not Nagato, if that's what you think."

"I know that. You don't have the eyes."

At that moment, Ibuse leaned toward him for the first time. Naruto inhaled air but didn't pull back. He came to smell the strong scent of that amphibious skin.

"You know that holding your breath wouldn't save you, right?", and he made a slight gesture to the side, towards his shoulder. "So she's still alive. I remember her. A very tragic life, as is the whole history of this place."

"She had the idea to summon you."

"I would never have expected it. To tell the truth, my life these years has been quiet, wandering the lake of Ame, resting on remote rocks beyond where the hidden villages are. Why do you want me here?"

"I want to protect her. And I need you for that."

"You are a pupil of the Toad Sage, you should have your own meanings to do that. Why do you need me?"

"I don't doubt my abilities, but none of my summonings are as strong as you."

"Flattering me won't help you."

"I speak the truth. You know that none of the Toads are as lethal as you are," Naruto said. "Besides, we'll soon be in more confined spaces. You can either go underground, or also...

"Use my poison."

The butterfly on Naruto's shoulder flapped its wings and took flight. It had a faint light of its own, like a jewel sinking deep into the water. Both Naruto and Ibuse-whom he now saw as a genuinely curious being, in the almost goofy way she followed the details that interested him-watched the paper butterfly slip through the crack in the door and disappear.

Full darkness again.

"There was only one person that could resist my poison. Neither of you can."

"She's paper."

"And what about you?"

"Haven't you noticed?"

Silence again. Ibuse brought her undefined face close to him and sniffed.

"You are an Uzumaki, just like that man with the eyes."

"Take a closer look."

Ibuse checked again, and after a brief concentration of Naruto in absolute stillness, she threw her head back.

"You are a sage; you control natural energy." She titled her head as if she was pondering. "You want to gradually expose yourself to it to gain resistance."

"I don't want to remove you from your tranquility," Naruto said. "I just want those last moments that have remained in the memory of her, of you, of this place, to be left behind new ones."

The salamander reared up on its front legs, standing erect in front of him, its head almost brushing the roof of the pavilion, its tongue swirling inside its mouth in its unconscious habit.

"Well?" said Naruto, facing the giant salamander. "What do you say?"

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He's too young too young how could you but you can only see him as you see him me the rain and my feet sliding in the water a paper I'm a white paper sliding in the water and I carry him with me.

That night in Konoha in your apartment I was yours and I always remember it every time I hold your hands and give myself to you whether silent or crying both of us or you looking at me or looking to the side I always have to smile at you a little for you to give in at first and agree to come inside me later but I know there is pain inside you as there is inside me this is our tragedy yours and mine I didn't want to start it but he did he he he his mask and the salamander he his heavy breathing in the rain but how much you make me smile and how happy I am with you and it doesn't seem like tragedy it seems like happiness and beauty and fullness and consecration and me slipping in the water a paper and the city sighs with me as you sigh with me

Our village of our village our village depends our village as the fire feeds the fire and burns it and heats it and there is only us left because in that he is right there is nothing with further sense nor original and everything is despair and everyone is trembling in terror somehow I understood him too and that is what was enough to understand what I do He is too young he is so young I know that but with that I understand what I do and... he He and I and the meals and the books and he is for me like Yahiko was for me Yahiko my love come back please can't you come back please Yahiko how much I love you still I am for him oh mom I am just taking care of him is that I am just taking care of him and giving him all the love he deserves he is mine.

There's nothing but us if we have us the rest is nothing but He's so young maybe I was always meant for him among the rainy trails I think and feel I think and feel and it runs through my veins as we embrace and see how he looks at me on rainy days when they cried the towers under the clouds we can be happy there's no other choice for us him sleeping and me watching how soft he sleeps soft crackle of the ceiling He's so young alone with me and no one else He's so young together in the room reading when the years go by the years shared before now and after

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They set off in the giant paper bird that Konan could create and left the perpetual rain behind them sooner than they would have expected and traversed the green plains of the Grass Country and the stony terrain of the Waterfalls Country and after a full day's journey by flight, they finally reached the border of the Iron Country. They must have descended or else the cold and snow of those would have frozen them.

A white blanket covering the undulating terrain. The sun falling behind the hills. Dark ploughed fields and in the background even darker forests where the last wolves still lived. Konan's paper butterflies fluttered luminous around them as they advanced alone like exiled pilgrims in search of a place to rest.

They crossed a wild region where strange white shapes revealed themselves at every echo of distant lightning. They saw storms they could not hear, silent booms of light and the broken spine of the mountains revealed before being engulfed again by darkness. They saw wild horses running through the valley. The wind had blown all day and as night fell it was still blowing and they decided to stop and set up camp by a stream and in the morning a gray sun again revealed the frost covered leaves and peace in that lonely landscape as if it had all been nothing more than a nightmare.

That day they decided to rest and be alone together. After dinner they cleaned the dishes and fed the fire until the embers burned again in the night and lay down to sleep in the tent in front of the flames for warmth. Naruto awoke once and lay listening to the silence of the place in the dark and the crackling of the fire or the leaves of the nearby trees rustling in the wind blowing in the valley. Looking at Konan's bed he saw that it was empty and got up and went out. Konan was standing there on the edge of the embankment, dimly lit by the fire. He gazed at the moon over the valley and the darkness below and the hills rising to the north. She turned and looked at him.

"Go to sleep. Tomorrow we'll have to travel all day to get to the Summit on time."

"I'm surprised you wanted to travel alone with me. You're in charge of Amekagure. You should be escorted by more people, with more comforts," he said, looking at the sober camp behind him.

"You are all the company I need."

He told her to come with her to sleep, and as they entered the tent together he watched her strip off her coat and the clothes that covered her. She took him in her hands and laid him down and mounted him. As she kissed his body she told him that she believed that life was not unlike the landscape out there: dark, wild and unforgiving, and that it was not unlike that tent they were in either: warm, soft and understanding; but that the latter could disappear at any moment, unlike the former, which was in essence its perpetual and true state, and that it was up to the two of them to keep the fire alive, and that she was sure, that she could now claim that loving him was what she most desired and needed.

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Come, my love, come to me. Come and make a dent in my life. Invade it. Like iron in water or stone in fire. Make that wound be reborn, as you always do when you make me remember Yahiko, whom you resemble so much. Because it is through that wound that the light enters. Light that is you. Rekindle the wound with sadness so that I can remember him and me again and remember how I could love, to love you now.

Come, my love. Come into my arms.

Keep breaking my heart, until it opens.