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“Have you noticed how important things come in threes?” Yahiko looked expectantly at Konan and Nagato, and at the lack of a reply, he continued, “It’s true! The Sannin. Rock, paper, scissors. The primary colors: red, blue, and yellow.”
Nagato murmured, “I would’ve said The Three Fates or the three of us.”
“Exactly! Sky, land, and sea.”
“Heaven, earth, and hell.”
“Past, present, and future.”
Konan finally spoke: “Beginning, middle, and end.” An unusual, somber beat passed, and then Yahiko said cheerfully, “Speaking of ends, we should be getting ready for the New Year’s party!”
They stood, but Konan stopped them and said, “I got something for you two.” She presented two boutonnières, each with a fresh, yellow rose. They thanked her profusely, and then Yahiko gave an encouraging nod to Nagato, who mumbled shyly, “We got you something too.”
They each handed her a pearl bracelet, and astounded, she said, “That’s very thoughtful, but I can’t accept this. It’s too much.” Yahiko countered, “Real flowers might as well be gold in Ame. Konan, we want you to have this. You hardly ever get to enjoy the finer things in life. Forget about work for a night, and let us spoil you.”
She looked uncertainly at them, and Nagato said, “Pearls suit you. They’re a product of pain. Something hurts the oyster, and the oyster turns that something into a thing of beauty.” Realizing what he’d said, Nagato reddened, but Konan’s expression softened into fondness as she said, “You know I don’t own any fine jewelry, so I’ll especially cherish this, not only because they’re my first but also because they came from you two.”
She pulled them into a hug and mused, “Imagine trying a group hug with the other guys. Imagine Itachi and Kakuzu in a group hug.” She gave an amused snort, but Nagato asked, “Who?”
“Huh? I… who…? What’d I say?”
“You said something about some other guys. What other guys?”
“What…? Who are you talking about?” Konan and Nagato stared at each other, confused, but Yahiko just exclaimed, “Let’s get dressed then! I’m excited to see and be seen!” So they separated and headed for their respective rooms.
Konan wasn’t unused to makeup because she wore it daily, but the occasion called for something more glamorous and meticulous. There was ample time to go luxuriously slow and to savor the details and the process of adorning herself, and it all came as easily as breathing, which was unusual because human error meant that mistakes and corrections were common and expected.
Faces are rarely perfectly symmetrical or as smooth as glass, yet her reflection was a glowing blur without a trace of age or skin texture. Her beauty was so great that it was almost… unreal. There was an odd acceptance of it though, and after some seconds spent admiring her visage, she commenced styling her hair. Because Amegakure’s humid climate meant curls wouldn’t last, she instead traded her standard bun for a bow. There was a further switch of her usual paper rose for one of gold silk under which she pinned a clear pavé bracelet and Nagato’s pearls while Yahiko’s pearls encircled her wrist, and then all that remained was to get dressed.
Upon revealing herself, her friends were stunned, and Yahiko said breathlessly, “It’s like the rain stopped just for you.” Nagato said with tenuous excitement, “They’ll be able to do the fireworks and lantern show if it doesn’t rain. The last time that I saw it was way back when I was little.”
Konan said, “You’re right. Not since…?” and the three of them said simultaneously, “Before the war.”
Nostalgia settled over them as their thoughts momentarily drifted to their lost families, but Yahiko, determined to keep the mood joyous, said, “Let’s go then!” Konan asked, “Could we fly?”
She dissolved into papers, which formed into a sheet for her friends to sit on, and although they had to brace themselves against the wind chill, the signs of life and dots of light spangling Amegakure made for a breathtaking vision. Konan admired the scene as she murmured sadly, “Sometimes I despise our fellow Akatsuki members. Like Deidara? He frequently experiences this, but the only thrill he’d find is in destroying it.” The sheet wobbled, and at the men’s startled cries, Konan exclaimed, “Sorry!”
Nagato questioned, “What happened? Did you see something?”
“No. My mind drifted somewhere. I’ve been so scatterbrained today.”
Nagato hummed thoughtfully. “Me too. I get that there’s a new year coming, but the current one ending makes you think about all that you did and how it’s passed. Do you ever realize that you’ll miss something while you’re still doing it?”
Konan gazed upon the achingly beautiful scenery of their hometown, her friends, and the stars above and before them, and a bittersweet pang pierced her. “Yes. Because we know it ends. Because nobody ever thinks the last time is the last time. Humans are the only animals aware of our own mortality, but we still assume there’ll be more. We act like we have forever when we don’t.”
Nagato concurred, "That's how every story goes: beginning, middle, and end." A melancholic silence settled over them until Yahiko cried, “What’s with you two?!”
Nagato responded sedately, “That’s what happens when you befriend goths.” Konan burst into laughter that spread to Nagato, and Yahiko stared into the distance, shaking his head.
They soon landed at an opulent hotel adjacent to a vast river, and they were welcomed enthusiastically as Amegakure’s leaders. A voice called for Konan, and she recognized it as belonging to the matriarch of one of Amegakure’s well-known families. She gushed over Konan’s outfit, and as they chatted, an increasing number of familiar faces joined them until they were pleasantly surrounded. The sea of people was a magnificent spectacle, and Konan found herself further dazzled by delectable hors d'oeuvres and refreshments. She did eventually want a full meal though, so she, Nagato, and Yahiko moved to the dining room, which was set before a stage occupied by a band and singer. The three settled into this splendid environment, all while countless friends and allies moved about, exchanging greetings and chatter, and Nagato whispered to Konan, “Yahiko is in his element.” Said person had briefly stepped away from them to get embroiled in an animated conversation, and he was indeed ecstatic and shining with all his strength as an extrovert. Konan replied, “He’s the only one who could do what he does. I’ve got a feeling that he’ll change the world.”
Yahiko made his way back to Konan and Nagato, and he passed them shot glasses, which they raised as he said, “To us. Long live our love for Ame, for the future, for each other. Cheers, dattebayo!”
Konan was thunderstruck. “...What’d you say?” The men were downing their glasses though, and Yahiko, upon finishing, asked, “Hm? What’s up? You don’t wanna drink?”
“That's not it. You reminded me of someone… or is it him who reminds me of you…?”
They stared at her, and Yahiko reached to take her glass, which she moved out of his reach. She demanded, “What’re you doing?” Nagato said worriedly, “How’re you feeling?”
“You think I’m drunk? Then how would I be talking to you two?”
“Konan. You’re red.”
She pressed the back of her hand to her cheek, felt that it was indeed abnormally warm, and tried to recall how many drinks she’d had. There was a bizarre mental emptiness though, like from the instant that she entered the building up to now, time had distorted to where the events were just a cheerful haze, but she refused to believe she was drunk; on the contrary she felt fantastic, almost euphoric. Her thoughts were interrupted when a hand clasped her shoulder and said, “Don’t listen to those boys, Konan. How’re you enjoying the party? Those pearls are gorgeous by the way,” and astonished, she faced Jiraiya.
No adequate words exist to describe how ecstatically they greeted and spoke with him, and Jiraiya refilled their cups until their joy was overflowing. At length he glanced at someone past them and said, “There’s somebody important whom I owe a conversation to, and it looks like he’ll have to leave soon. I’ll see you three a little later in the night,” to which Yahiko entreated, “Can he wait? Midnight is in ten minutes, and we’d love for you to watch the fireworks with us.”
“I can’t unfortunately. It’s a diplomatic thing.” Jiraiya subtly gestured to a man who’d clearly indulged himself too much and was being helped toward the door, and then he moved down the row of his former students, hugging each one and imparting advice and encouragement. Upon reaching Konan, who was last, he embraced her and said, “Konan, you’ve grown into one hell of a woman, but even a girlboss needs a break occasionally.”
She scoffed lightly, and his tone shifted from playful to grave: “Don’t stress. You’ve a long rest coming. He’s on his way. Do you really think you’ll win against him?” Reflexively she answered, “No but I’m ready to die trying.”
They stared solemnly at each other until both broke into smiles, and Jiraiya said warmly, “You know how stories go: beginning, middle, and end. I’ll see you soon. Very soon.” If there was an ominous note to his parting words, then it went unnoticed because Yahiko was pulling them into the hotel’s yard, where there was an imposing tower of lanterns casting its amber glow onto the fireworks and sky lanterns set to launch. With minutes to spare, their friends and acquaintances commented on how Konan would love the lanterns given her affinity for paper, and a few asked if she was capable of creating lanterns herself or otherwise adding something, to which she demurred. Some hotel attendants overheard her, and they objected, citing that a few butterflies would be excellent for attracting guests to come outside. They presented her with some red sheets emblazoned with the hotel’s logo, and she hesitated until she saw Jiraiya in the distance speaking to the man whom he’d mentioned earlier. As the countdown to midnight started, a butterfly drifted to Jiraiya and settled on his shoulder, and he glanced at it, grinned at her, and pointed skywards.
The crowd erupted into exclamations as explosions canopied the night, and beneath that vivid canopy floated the fireworks’ mute companions, the sky lanterns. The splashes of light and color reflected off the river, onto the audience’s faces, and against the hotel’s grandeur, and Konan’s troubles all evaporated so that for just a moment, she believed life was and would be sweet. Her former teacher was healthy and happy, she’d had extraordinary amounts of admiration heaped onto her, and her best friends flanked her and promised her their everlasting support; supreme, immaculate bliss. The fireworks eventually concluded so that all that remained were the ghostly lights of the sky lanterns gliding over the river, and Konan, finally feeling exhausted, wobbled, prompting Yahiko and Nagato to stabilize her and to vocalize their concern.
They brought her inside and set her on a sofa in an isolated spot to fuss over her, but she interrupted them by clasping their hands. Emotions mingled within her in a confusing tangle; gratitude, elation, and strangely enough… sadness, and she blurted, “I miss you guys so much. I miss who we were and what we had, and I especially miss—” She paused to breathe, and Yahiko finished her sentence: “The dreaming. My favorite part of our friendship was dreaming of peace together.”
Nagato helped her to recline, and he removed the pearl bracelets while cautioning, “Be careful. Once pearls are damaged, they’re irreparable.” He placed them in her purse and continued, “Yahiko and I’ll carry you home, so you can sleep a little. You’ve got something major coming, so you need the rest. Don’t worry. It’s like Jiraiya-sensei said: we’ll all see each other soon.” As her eyelids shut, the final sight that she had was of Nagato and Yahiko smiling and crooning, “Thank you for the flowers,” and she could still hear the echo of their words as she awoke on a bench in their shrine, facing their lifeless bodies.
She lay there awhile longer, drowsily reflecting on her dream of splendor and luxury, but then her senses screamed of approaching danger: Madara. The glittering fantasy of champagne and jewels vanished, and she stood and patted herself down to ascertain that she was properly armed. She felt a foreign object in her cloak’s pocket, and withdrawing it, she found two pearl bracelets. Dumbfounded and frightened, she gave a long look to the corpses of Nagato and Yahiko, but there was no time left to think. Steeling herself, she left for battle, carrying the understanding of how every story goes: beginning, middle, and end.