A dim light filtered through what seemed like old paper blinds. The air was humid. Heavy. Still.
And then — breath. Sudden. Sharp. Desperate.

Gasp.

He sprang upward with a start, eyes snapping open, his breath ragged, chest rising and falling as if trying to catch up with time itself. His body felt sluggish, weaker than he had ever allowed it to become. His Sharingan activated instantly, the enchanced perception helping to make him understand the surroundings quickly.

"Wait, Itachi. You woke up."

The voice struck a peculiar chord. He knew it — but it sounded different. Steady. Concerned. Sincere.

"You need to relax. Everything is fine."

He turned. To find the source of the voice ...it was...

Konan

"You set the entire hideout on fire."

Her words were laced with a slight awe.

"I saw you," she continued, voice calm but firm, "and took you away to somewhere safe."

He blinked, slowly. The gears in his mind turned — calculating, analysing, doubting.

"You were following me?" he replied.

Konan shook her head gently.

"No. You'd gone more than a day without reporting back. Pain grew concerned. He sent me to find you, since I was the last one to see you."

She walked past him slowly, fingers tracing the edge of the table in the room, eyes sharp with the memory of what she had seen.

"I told him you were hunting Orochimaru. He was... displeased that you acted without informing the group. But I reminded him — Orochimaru possesses intelligence on Akatsuki. Had he handed that to one of the Great Nations…" she let the thought hang ominously in the air. "Eliminating him benefits us all."

Itachi's gaze narrowed slightly, unreadable as always.

"You spoke for me?" He replied his voice filled with intrigue

Her voice came softer now.

"Yes. It felt like I had to."

A pause.

...

"I did not tell Pain the real reason you were hunting him. I think… it's for the best."

There was a flicker — the barest twitch of his lips. A silent concession of gratitude.

"Yes, it is." he replied. But his mind rushed elsewhere.

"What happened to Orochimaru?"

His tone held an uncharacteristic urgency. Enough to draw a hint of intrigue in her expression. Perhaps even… a subtle sense of approval.

"The flames were too intense," she said quietly. "He's a slippery bastard, but this time… most likely, the Amaterasu engulfed him. He couldn't have escaped."

"Let's hope so," he murmured.

"Yeah," she echoed — but with a soft smile now, one that crept in uninvited and lingered longer than expected.

He noticed.

"Where are we, exactly?"

"One of our temporary bases. Secluded. Secure. It has what we need to keep you stable and recovering."

"I'd suggest you recover fully before returning to our main base. Pain would like to see you in your usual state more than this." she said with her smile faintly widening further.

"Yea" he said with the faintest of chuckles. She looked at the roof of the room they were in while he looked at her with intrigue.

She turned, retrieving something from a nearby drawer — a small bottle, a faint sheen of liquid inside.

"Speaking of which… I need to apply these to your eyes."

"Eye drops?" he raised a brow.

"Assuming your Mangekyō is like Madara's — then it puts strain on the eyes. They bled when I saw you. These will help."

He looked at the small bottle, then at her.

"Eye drops. Even for such powerful dōjutsu… Are you sure Madara doesn't just have a flu?"

That earned a light, honest laugh — so rare it seemed to echo more than it should have.

"Never knew the youngest ANBU captain knew jokes," she replied with raised brows, amusement flickering in her amber gaze.

He understood what she meant. The ANBU was the type of organization that wanted ruthless dedication. Joining an organization like that at such age? Even he didn't know he had a tiny hint of humor left within him since years, but now he did...somehow.

He said nothing, but slight a smirk lingered on his lips.

"Lay your head down. Slightly."

He did.

As she leaned closer, strands of her hair shifted — a soft cascade that brushed across her cheeks, and some...

to his face.

Catching the faintest light like the wing of a paper butterfly. Her hand came to rest across his face, steady and careful. Her amber eyes locked with his, deep and unwavering as the cool drops fell.

The Sharingan flickered — a reflex. Reacting to the slightly burning sensnation as she was done pouring the drops.

"That should be it." She said with a faint smile.

But Itachi did not reply with anything. Slightly shifting her body to stand up, but as she did her eyes did not leave his.

He didn't move.

And...Neither did she.

As they realized the distance between their faces had gotten close, she She watched as he looked into her eyes, the usual tilted eyebrows slightly raised as she could feel his breathing slightly increase. She didn't realize it though, she was looking into his eyes as well. As the distance between their faces was close

Too close.

...

Itachi remained still, as if his entire body had turned to stone — not from pain, not from weakness, but from something else entirely. Something far more elusive. His eyes, dulled slightly by exhaustion, still retained their piercing edge… but for once, they weren't dissecting a battlefield.

And he realized it was the first time his eyes...

They were reading her.

Not out of a hidden motive, not to extract all the information he could about this woman. But a genuine look.

Konan, too, did not move. Perhaps it was the intensity of what they'd just faced… or perhaps it was the stillness after chaos that made everything feel more fragile. More real.

Her fingers, which had moments ago steadied his head with clinical care, now hesitated just above his skin. She seemed aware of it — the space between them. So did he.

Both aware that a breath too deep or a glance too honest could shatter the strange balance they were in.

He finally spoke, and when he did, his voice was quieter than usual. A rarity. A softness almost untraceable.

"You helped me save my brother, you saved me... even when I failed."

Konan didn't look away.

"You didn't fail."

He tilted his head ever so slightly. "I lost."

"No," she said simply, "you survived."

Her words held no sympathy — she knew better than to offer that to someone like him. It wasn't comfort. It was fact. In the world they lived in, survival meant victory.
She finally stepped back, placing the small bottle of eyedrops back in the drawer with a quiet clink. The moment broke like frost underfoot — not shattered, but acknowledged. A glance exchanged. An understanding forged.

But just as she was about to turn away fully, his voice stopped her again.

"Konan."
She turned her head, a question in her eyes.

"...Thank you."

There were no grand gestures. No overdrawn looks. Just those two words, simple and precise, delivered like a silent oath. From him, it might as well have been a confession.

Her lips curved again — but not in amusement this time. It was subtler. Almost reverent.

"Rest, Itachi."

She pulled a thin curtain across the entrance to the room, leaving him in half-shadow, the flicker of a candle casting soft lines across the floor. As she stepped away, her paper wings fluttered faintly behind her — almost imperceptibly.

And alone now, he stared at the ceiling for a long moment.