Konan dreamed—long and terrible.
In the dream, under Yahiko's lead, Akatsuki swelled from a handful to hundreds. With growth came the crosshairs; Hanzo named them enemies. Ideals clashed; war was declared. With Nagato's power, they won and won—
—and then, at the fulcrum, Yahiko died.
Nagato went mad. He killed Hanzo with a forbidden art and paid a terrible price. After, Nagato changed—consumed by hatred, lured by a masked whisper, he turned Akatsuki's banner toward Konoha… and died at the hands of a blond boy with sea-blue eyes.
Konan's end was no kinder: alone in the rain, watching over two corpses until the masked man drowned her in a black ocean.
She woke with two silent tracks of tears.
"Why… would I dream that?" She scrubbed her cheeks, unsettled to the bone.
"Konan? You're crying?" Yahiko rushed in, alarm flaring. "Who hurt you? Tell me—I'll make them—"
"No one, Yahiko." She bit her lip. "If—just if—I had a dream. So real it felt like truth. In it, you and Nagato died. Our ideals became someone else's weapon. What would you say?"
"Me and Nagato… dead?" Of all the answers he expected, that wasn't one.
"It won't happen," said a quiet voice at the door. Nagato stepped in, red hair damp with mist. It wasn't lack of care—stoicism was just who he was. "Not while I'm here."
"Hah! Exactly." Yahiko ruffled her hair. "Don't forget—Nagato bears the Sage of Six Paths' blood. The legendary Rinnegan!"
Nagato lifted his face; the rippled eyes glowed amethyst in the gloom.
"But…" Konan pressed a hand to her chest. The dream's ache still gnawed. "It felt too real."
"It was still a dream," Nagato said, even. "Not reality. I won't let you die. I promise."
"Right. We promise." Yahiko took her other hand, grin bright. "We won't leave you behind. We'll change Ame together."
The warmth of their palms steadied her breath. "Mm… I believe you."
—
"Do you really not want my help, Sogetsu?"
On a different tatami, Hikari sat primly, head tilted, voice soft. "Those three would be easy for me to control."
Sogetsu leaned against the wall, collar loose at his chest, one hand bracing his chin. He ruffled her hair. "No need. I appreciate it, Hikari. But those three aren't worth it—yet."
She nuzzled into his palm like a well-behaved cat. "My power is yours to use—so… don't ever dislike me, alright?"
"Don't say that." Sogetsu tipped her chin up, meeting her eyes. His smile was warm. "I want you to walk with me—not as a 'tool,' but as my companion. Got it?"
"Mm. I got it." Sweetness bloomed across her face.
Sogetsu's gaze sharpened. "Hikari—your eyes. How far have they declined?"
The Mangekyō could grant miracles—and exact ruin. The stronger the technique, the steeper the toll on sight and body. Overuse meant darkness. Sasuke's vision had cratered after a mere handful of uses. Hikari's Eight Thousand Spears was monstrous; hers would be worse. And she'd been forced to wield it since the Warring States era.
Hikari flinched under that look, fear fluttering. She hugged him tight, voice barely a whisper. "I-I'm fine. I can still use my eyes a lot, so… don't worry about me, Sogetsu."
"Look at me."
Pressure edged his tone. "I don't like lies. The truth. Your eyes—how far?"
"I'm sorry… I was wrong."
She folded like a scolded child, head bowed, teeth catching her lip. "I can probably use them… three or four more times."
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