Kenshin continued to eat his breakfast, trying to push the strange feeling to the back of his mind. He focused on his conversation with Kana, discussing his progress on the new jutsu and the challenges he was facing. Yet, the odd sensation wouldn't leave him entirely.
"I think I'll head out for a bit, maybe train," Kenshin said, standing up and stretching. "Clear my mind."
Kana smiled at him, though her eyes held a hint of concern. "Just don't push yourself too hard, Ken-chan."
"I won't, Mom," he assured her, grabbing his cloak. "I'll be back later."
As he stepped outside, the cold air hit him, clearing his head slightly. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the present. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of Konan's face kept slipping into his thoughts, always just out of reach, like a dream he couldn't quite remember.
Kenshin made his way to the training grounds, his mind still plagued by the inexplicable feeling that something was amiss.
He tried to shake it off, focusing instead on his jutsu. The wind chakra was still proving difficult to concentrate, and every failed attempt only added to his frustration.
Previously, he could gather enough chakra to slightly lift his body from the ground, and he planned on developing it to the point where he could effectively fly with it.
He called it his "Wind chakra mode."
But right now it was proving extremely difficult to concentrate it enough to even feel the wind from his feet.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tried to gather his energy. But every time he did, Konan's face would flash in his mind, and that strange, nagging sensation would return.
It was like trying to catch smoke—there one moment, gone the next, leaving him even more frustrated than before.
After a few more attempts, he finally gave up, collapsing onto the ground with a sigh. "What the hell is wrong with me today?" he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples.
The wind picked up around him, carrying a few stray snowflakes as they danced in the air. Kenshin watched them absentmindedly, his thoughts drifting back to the Hidden Leaf. Soon, he and Kana would be leaving the Rain Village behind, starting a new chapter in their lives.
It was what they had wanted, but now that the time was nearing, he felt a strange reluctance—a sense that he was leaving something important behind.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pinpoint what that something was.
"I wonder what happened last night."
[On the other hand]
Konan sat on the cold stone bench, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as the snow continued to fall. The world around her was silent, save for the soft sound of her own sobs. She had never felt so alone, so lost, as she did in this moment.
She had always been strong, unyielding, but now the weight of her choices bore down on her like a crushing tide. The love she had for Kenshin, the promise she had erased from his memory, and the future they would never share—it all felt like too much to bear.
She had never felt such pain ever since Yahiko's death. Even after that, she had always been strong, unyielding, but now the weight of her choices bore down on her like a crushing tide.
The love she had for Kenshin, the promise she had erased from his memory, and the future they would never share—it all felt like too much to bear.
The world Nagato was trying to create—a world free of pain and suffering—felt impossibly far away in that moment. And as much as she believed in his vision, Konan couldn't help but wonder if it was worth the sacrifices they were all making.
Would there ever be a place for her love in the world they were fighting for? Or had they already lost too much in pursuit of their goal?
Konan closed her eyes, letting the cold wind whip through her hair, numbing the pain for just a moment. But even the icy chill couldn't reach the hollow ache in her chest.
As she sat there, lost in her sorrow, she felt a presence behind her. She didn't need to turn to know who it was—Nagato always seemed to know when she was struggling.
"Konan," his voice was soft, almost gentle, as he approached. He didn't ask what was wrong; he didn't need to. He simply stood beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder, offering silent support.
For a long moment, they stood there in silence, the snow falling softly around them. Konan didn't move, didn't speak, but she was grateful for his presence all the same.
Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you ever wonder if we've given up too much, Nagato?"
Nagato was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the snowy landscape before them. "We've sacrificed a lot," he admitted, his tone contemplative. "But the world we're trying to create... it's worth it, Konan. We have to believe that."
Konan nodded, though she wasn't sure she believed it anymore. She had always trusted Nagato's vision, had followed him without question. But now, after everything that had happened, she couldn't help but doubt.
"Do you ever wonder if there's a place for love in that world?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Nagato turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. "Love has no place in the world as it is now," he said finally. "But in the world we're trying to create... perhaps there will be."
His words hung in the air, offering a glimmer of hope that Konan desperately wanted to believe in. But as she looked out at the snow-covered village, she couldn't help but feel that hope slipping away, like the memory she had taken from Kenshin.
With a heavy heart, she stood up, brushing the snow from her clothes. "I need to prepare for the transfer," she said, her voice steady once more. "Thank you, Nagato."
Nagato nodded, his hand slipping from her shoulder as she turned to leave. "Remember, Konan," he called after her, "we're doing this for a better world."
Konan paused, her back to him, before she continued walking away. "I hope so," she whispered to herself, her voice lost in the wind.
As she made her way back to the central tower, Konan pushed her doubts to the back of her mind. She had made her choice, and she would see it through, no matter the cost.
But the pain in her heart remained, a constant reminder of what she had lost—and what she had sacrificed for the world Nagato was trying to create.
A/N: I felt like I needed to elaborate more on the toll it took on Konan but while doing so, I wrote two full chapters dedicated to it.
-------------------------
Once again, thank you everyone for your continued support and power stones. As always, please give me your power stones and comment your opinions. They make a big difference and motivate me to write more.