Midnight Memories

I don’t own Naruto nor do I make money from it.



Midnight Memories



Chapter Fifteen



Konan stood patiently in her room, running her fingers over a journal sitting benignly closed on her desk. It was worn, the leather cracking in areas. Inside were her most private thoughts and memories of times long since passed. She’d transferred from ancient scrolls to parchment in the early fifteen hundreds--the content remaining the same. The language scrawled on the parchment pages was a composition of early Latin mixed with Greek.



There were occasions she considered burning the tome. Only pain lay inside. It was appropriate since it was her observations of Pein. No. He would never be Pein to her. Only Nagato.



As a Watcher, one spent most of their time doing just that. The past was recorded on countless scrolls and tomes since the creation of the written word and before that by truth tellers. The history of the world was carried within the stone walls of their sanctuary--both the successes and failures.



Civilizations rose and fell under their observing eyes. They watched, learned, and when necessary, intervened.



Throughout her existence, she’d seen the course of history changed by the actions of one man. It happened all the time, but not as bitter as what she’d seen happen to Nagato. That one man could be so cruel as to deny a connection.



Her hand clenched tight. The monsters of the past weren’t the only ones to blame for Pein’s suffering. She had a part in his pain--she and the rules created long before. Rules which demanded both her compliance and silence were meant to prevent too much interference. Not a day passed that she didn’t wish she’d had the strength to go against the grain and stop what was happening.



She’d been young, too young and idealistic to even think of interfering. It was a rule. Until the soul was ripe, no one could interfere. Life needed to take its course. The soul needed to grow and experience all it could. The law was the law.



It was customary for a Watcher to keep a journal dialoguing their charge’s various lives and those bound to him or her. When in incorporeal form, they were undetectable by others. It made watching easier and allowed for witnessing private conversations.



“Konan?”



She shook the morose thoughts from her mind. Placing the journal on the desk and turning to see Neji standing quietly in her doorway. He was an intelligent sort. He didn’t speak out but watched and learned. Some of the others taught him without ever observing a conversation with him.



“Yes, Neji?”



“Lord Danzou has returned.”



Konan’s jaw clenched tightly. “What does he want?”



“He wishes to speak with you. Should I send him away?”



Releasing a pent up breath, she shook her head. “No. I’ll see him. He’s probably upset the threads of fate changed. He doesn’t understand. There is little certainty in the future. My crushing a single ant can possibly alter life thousands of years ahead.”



“You’re worried.” Neji’s eyes narrowed. “You’re worried about what he’ll do.”



“I’m always worried about what he’ll do. The question is will he do it.” Konan slid her feet into comfortable loafers.



“I’ll come with you.”



“Not this time. He’s probably volatile.” Konan prowled down the candlelit hallway, Neji trailing quickly behind her.



“Lady Konan! Don’t go in there alone.” Neji’s unsmiling face looked intently at her.



She placed a hand on his shoulder. “What will be will be.”



Leaving him, she stepped into the receiving room. Danzou wasn’t the most patient of individuals. After only a small wait, he was pacing before her like a caged tiger. She closed the door with a faint snap.



“Konan! You betrayed me, Konan. You said I would be the fulcrum for a new age. You said I would be the reason for change to happen. You said I would be the spark bringing new power to the nightwalker throne. Instead, I have Itachi’s followers trailing doggedly after him. His brother miraculously recovers from centuries of insanity.” Danzou approached, his breath brushing over her face. “Tell me, woman, what other lies have you spoken to me?”



Konan sniffed, brushing past him. She was desperate to put distance between them. He was too dangerous.



“I speak no lies. You simply interpreted the truth to benefit yourself. The threads of fate aren’t so cut and dry as you seem to believe. I’ve told you, one moment can alter the world. What would have happened if Alexander the Great hadn’t died? What would happen if Jesus wasn’t crucified? What would happen if John F. Kennedy had decided not to campaign in Texas? The world would be different, I think.” Konan leveled her gaze on the fuming man. “Now, do not return to this place until you learn to appreciate the gift your former king blessed you with.”



Danzou stood quietly, his body quaking with anger. His movements were fast, faster than anything she’d experienced.



“What--” she gasped, finding herself against the wall.



Before she could fade from his grasp, a dagger found its way into her abdomen. The most shocking revelation was she was bleeding. She should have healed immediately following the extraction of the blade. Why wasn’t she healing?



A trickle of blood dribbled from her lips, splashing down onto her shirt and making Danzou smirk with dark glee. “Surprised? It seems you’re not immortal after all.”



“How?” she gasped, falling from Danzou’s grip to the floor.



“Ancient magic infused this blade. Fugaku was a smart man. He left nothing to chance. Every living creature has a weakness…even acclaimed immortals such as the Watchers.” Danzou crouched beside her, tracing a finger up the trail of blood dripping from her chin. “I wonder what the blood of an immortal tastes like.”



He closed his eyes upon tasting the blood. His fangs distended and he moaned low, obviously enjoying the flavor.



“One drop and I feel as if I’ve tasted ambrosia.”



“Don’t…think…this is the…end…for you…” Konan pressed her hand to the wound, futilely attempting to stem the bleeding.



“No…but it is the end of you. I’ve grown tired of looking to your kind for the glimpses of the future. I’ll make the future mine. You don’t control my fate, little girl.” Danzou stood, walking from the chamber as if nothing was amiss.



“No…” Konan whispered, “but you’ve sealed yours.”



oOo



There was a dark feeling of foreboding running through his veins. He Pein couldn’t seem to shake it as he prowled through the rooms encompassing his bedroom. He could feel the reverberation of energy beneath his feet. He always felt it. It was a slow, steady pulse of power. It was the only comfort he had in his extremely long life.



Today, it failed to offer the normal consolation. His heart felt raw. Ripping out the organ seemed an all too desirable action. Feeling hurt. Reminders of the past pains. Itachi. The what could have beens haunted him.



He closed his eyes, refusing to dwell on the direction his thoughts were taking him. As Konan always told him, the past was nothing but the textbook to learn for the future.



Itachi was a mistake he needed to learn from. The intense desire to be with him shouldn’t rule his life. He was not prey to the desires of the bond.



He could always sever it. Konan had long since broken hers for reasons she refused to reveal. He could do the same. It wouldn’t kill him and he would no longer be bound to the bastard king.



Slamming his fist against the wall, he snarled into the empty room. Already he could feel the strengthening of the bond. Touching Itachi, expressing strong emotions to him--all these things brought about a renewing the formerly brittle bond.



“Fuck!”



Panicked cries from outside his room brought forth his more violent nature. His eyes became focused and he stepped from his room into the hall. Several acolytes rushed past him towards the inner sanctum.



“What is it?”



“We have to find a healer.”



Pein frowned. A healer? Why would they need a healer?



Instead of stopping to question more of the panicked Watchers, he moved through the maze of passageways towards the source of the madness. A crowd gathered around the exit to one of the receiving rooms.



Pein elbowed his way through to see a familiar blue head cradled in her apprentice’s lap. Crimson stained her shirt and the floor beneath. It was impossible.



“Konan?”



Her dull eyes turned to look on him. “Nagato…”



He was on his knees beside her within moments. “How did this happen?”



“Ancient…magic…” She swallowed heavily, the muscles in her throat jumping with ever attempt. “Nagato…I made…a mistake.”



“Shit…don’t talk, I’m taking you to the sanctuary.” Pein scooped her from the floor and strode from the room.



Her pallor created a dire panic in him. She was his closest friend. She knew all his secrets and he liked to think he knew all of hers. He couldn’t imagine losing her.



“Nagato…don’t…”



“Stop talking. You need to conserve you energy.” Pein laid her a gently as possible on the quartz slab.



She should have exuded a brilliant blue from the crystal. Instead, the stone barely glowed. It was proof how badly injured she was.



“Nagato…”



“Tell me who did this, Konan. I’ll make him pay.”



She shook her head, a fist gripping in the soft material of his shirt. “You need…to listen. Go to my room. On my desk…is a leather bound journal. You need…to read.”



“I can do that later.” Pein clung to her hand. “I need to make sure you’re alright.”



“I’m dying.”



“No! You’ll be destroyed.”



She smiled, her fingers lifting to rub over the silvery piercings. “I’ll be reborn.”



Pein shook his head, only making her smile brighten. “We are immortal for a reason.”



“Nothing…is…immortal.” Desperation lit her gaze, her fingers tightening on his shirt. “Listen…read my…journal. My sins…you have to…understand.”



“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Pein tried to calm her, the light in the quartz flickering.



“I wronged…you.” She pulled Pein so their faces nearly touched. “In silence…I wronged…you. Please…my journal…read it.”



A tear tracked from her eye, working down to splash on the stone. For long moments their were no words as her life left her. Her body went limp and all color faded from the stone. There was no great bursting of power as one would expect from one such as Konan. She faded gently from his life just as she had entered it.



He collapsed to his knees watching as before his eyes, her body grew transparent and faded. His hands reached to grab at her, to keep her with him only to pass through it as if it was nothing but smoke.



Pain ripped through him. It made him want to scream out at the injustice of it all. Konan had never harmed another. She was gentle, if not occasionally hard individual. She was his closest friend. Not having her to talk with would be a hell in itself.



His hands lifted to his face. Even the blood staining his body was fading from him. Nothing of her would remain save for the physical objects she cherished.



His mind held nothing but pain, his feet taking him to her private sanctuary. Things were just as she had left them. A half finished bit of knitting sat in a basket near the fireplace. Her neat and tidy desk contained a few unopened correspondences and the afore mentioned journal.



He frowned at the name emblazoned across the leather cover. Nagato.



It wasn’t lost on him that every Watcher kept a detailed journal on their subjects. He’d never bothered to read his because he hadn’t wanted to see what was written. Reading one’s past was discouraged and he never pushed the issue. He’d lived, there was no need to rub in the pain any more.



Flipping to the initial pages, he scanned the handwritten text. At the time he’d first existed, loose paper was definitely not the rage. She must have recopied every word from the scroll, most likely written in a dead language. His brow arched. Latin. His memories of the earlier lives were hazy at best. He’d almost forgotten he’d lived in Rome.



His first instinct was to toss it back to the desk or bury it in the mounds of ancient tomes located in the archives. He wanted to forget his past, not relive it.



Closing his eyes, he drew on the inner strength to do what Konan wished of him. Her last request of him was to read her journal. He could never defile her memory by denying such a thing. It was the very least he could do for her.



Settling in her chair, he carefully turned the brittle pages to the beginning--where it all started.



This is my first assignment prior to completion of my training. I will do my best to uphold the law while observing the life and times of the soul assigned to me. I hope to provide only truth. My excitement is churning inside me at being given this chance to follow the life and times of a soul.



Pein chuckled. It was so like Konan to begin her journal as almost a personal diary rather than an objective journal of her charge.



Taking a breath, he read on. After initial introduction of her locating his soul, he frowned at the turn of events described. Instead of mundane comments concerning him, she instead began dialoguing events not directly involving him, but having everything to do with him.



oOo



652 BC Rome.



“I won’t have it.”



Fugaku Uchilious, as he was called during those days, glared at his chief advisor. His handsome, eternally youthful appearance didn’t hide the destructive force lying in wait. As far as any living night walker knew, he and his wife were the oldest. They were born of a mutation in blood, possibly an evolution. Their first children gave birth to their race. As the years passed, though distantly related, none of the night walkers could be considered of their direct bloodline.



Only their youngest son, Itachi, could be considered pure blooded as their previous children were all dead, or resting in eternal sleep. Itachi was an infant by their standards, despite being nearly three hundred.



“My lord…the Watchers are nearly as old as you, if not older. You can not stop the bonds from forming. I’m afraid your son has already joined his soul with one.” Danzou sipped at the wine placed between them.



“I want you to take care of it. Destroy the soul.” Fugaku’s nails bit deep furrows into the wooden arms of the ornate chair inside his large marble home.



“I know of no way to destroy a soul.” Danzou leveled a gaze on his king. “I can take care of the human body. If what you’ve told me is true, if Itachi isn’t present during the ceremony to extract the soul from the human body in ten lifetimes, the soul will perish. Then you wouldn’t have to fret over Itachi being bound to one of them.”



“And Itachi?”



“The only one at risk is the Watcher. Itachi is bound to feel some pain as the soul dies, but it will fade with time.” Danzou sat back, obviously pleased with his plan.



“We’re going to need to watch Itachi and that soul closely. My son can never know what we’ve done.”



“We won’t know which soul it is until Itachi meets it again. Physical appearance doesn’t usually transfer but I will do my utmost best to make sure Itachi never realizes his soul has been joined to another.” Danzou smirked, his rough stocky face creasing in excitement.



“I knew it was wise to allow you the knowledge of the Watchers,” Fugaku stated.



Danzou bowed his head in acknowledgement before asking, “Even if it breaks the promise you gave them?”



“They will never see it coming. They can not interfere with what we do. And I’m allowed an heir to the knowledge. I had hoped to make it Itachi but frugality demands you supersede me in this.” Fugaku lifted a hand to his chin, his face taking on a thoughtful look. “Do it.”



Danzou bowed. “My lord!”



Fugaku wrapped the excess of his toga around his arm, strolling into the night lit garden. Unlike his son, the sun was almost painful to his skin. Merely walking through it wouldn’t kill him unless it was for an extended period of time, but would leave painful burns. Itachi as well as most of his children and their descendents seemed to have no trouble moving about during the day.



“Itachi.” Fugaku stepped down the steps of the pavilion and into the fragrant garden. It was a different from his beloved island home far to the east. He missed the scent of the mountains and spiced food. It was necessary to travel often or the people would become frightened. Fear could motivate loyalty, but it also brought about risks far outweighing the benefits.



“Father.” Itachi trotted up the steps to meet his father.



His body, dressed only in a kilt, shone beautiful in the moonlight. Itachi was his pride and joy. He would never allow anyone to take him from him. Itachi was what his previous children were not. He was both strong and frighteningly intelligent. He was a perfect heir for the crown. Already Mikoto was loosing interest in life. She’d agreed to only spend twenty or thirty years asleep yet he could tell she longed to make it permanent but would not until he joined her.



“You’ve been practicing? You‘re growing powerful.”



Itachi smirked, the twinkle in his eye answering though his lips moved out of respect. “I am, but that’s not why I requested an audience.”



“For shame. My own son, feeling the need to formally request time with me. Never feel you need to use formality with us.”



Itachi blushed a little, dropping his gaze beneath the piercing one of his father. “Father, I’ve met someone. I think…that is, I would like your blessing to bring them to the family.”



“A human?” Of course, Fugaku knew this already. He knew and as they spoke, the human was being taken care of.



“I know what you’re going to say, Father.”



Fugaku held up a hand. “Hear me out, son.”



Fugaku led them through the garden, stopping beside a stone statue. “This statue represents you. Long years will pass before it is withered away.”



A pale slender hand plucked a lily from the floral beds near the fountain. “This is the life of your human. A mere blink of our eyes and they will disappear. This flower, even cared for religiously will only last a matter of days before it dies compared to the statue which will stand unchanged for centuries.”



Itachi sighed, lifting his hand to clasp his father’s shoulder. “I would like to spend those years with him even if it will only hurt me in the end.”



Fugaku hung his head, lifting the plucked flower to his nose. “So be it. Bring him to me tomorrow.”



A broad smile broke Itachi’s neutral façade. “Thank you, Father!”



Fugaku watched his son leave the residences. A quick flick of his hand had Danzou crouching at his feet. “Is it done?”



Danzou smirked, gazing up haughtily at his king. “It is done.”



oOo



632 AD Asuka Period Japan



The sun hung low in the sky. Another two hours and the shops in the village would close. He’d trained himself to rise before the setting of the son. While weakened, at least he was able to walk about in sunlight unlike his father.



“Itachi…why do you look so sad?”



A ten year old Sasuke looked up at him with soulful eyes. How could he explain the pain he felt without knowing the cause? Every few years bouts of melancholy would pierce his internal barriers, leaving him distraught for days, months, and on occasion, years.



“I’m fine, Sasuke. How would you like to go to the town? Maybe I’ll buy you a toy.”



Sasuke crossed his arms over his bony chest. “I’m not a baby. I don’t want a toy. I want a sword.”



“A sword? What would a little runt like you do with a sword?” Itachi chose that moment to flick Sasuke’s brow with his fingers.



“I’m old enough. Father said he would teach me how to use it,” pouted Sasuke.



“Hn, let’s go then. Maybe I’ll buy you a wooden one. Wouldn’t want you cutting off a limb.” Itachi turned to move towards the gate when a hand tugged on his summer yukata.



“Carry me?”



He turned with an arched brow, seeing his brother making plaintive eyes at him. “You say you’re old enough for a sword yet you want me to carry you into town?”



“Please, Itachi.”



Itachi ruffled the soft hair before crouching before his brother. Sasuke grinned widely before lunging onto the presented back. Itachi’s hands looped beneath Sasuke’s legs and they were off.



The walk would have been at least an hour for any normal human. For Itachi and Sasuke, it was only a matter of minutes. Itachi was careful to take detours through the sakura trees so not to be seen by villagers traveling the roads. Sasuke’s hands reached out to grasp the falling blossoms as they moved quickly towards the nearby town.



His pace only slowed to a natural walk as they reached the outskirts of the town. “Remember what I’ve taught you, Sasuke?”



“I remember, nii-san. I shouldn’t say much and only speak when spoken to.”



He could practically hear Sasuke rolling his eyes. “It’s for both our safety, Sasuke.”



Sasuke merely snorted, jumping from Itachi’s back to stroll along side him. The village was quite large as most port towns were. Sasuke spotted a few children and before Itachi could stop him, he was off. Hopefully he wouldn’t get into too much trouble and it would keep him from being spotted shopping for Sasuke a small blade as his eleventh birthday was approaching.



When one grew as old as Itachi, birthdays stopped mattering. For Sasuke, an infant really, birthdays were important. They had to be celebrated.



A weapon smith hammered his wares while Itachi browsed before approaching. “I wish to commission a weapon.”



The man took in Itachi’s finely woven yukata, smiling with the knowledge he could make a fine coin. “What do you wish of me, sir?”



“A sword, small. It needs to be fit for a child.”



“A child?”



“My brother’s birthday. He’s turning eleven and it’s time I started training him in the art of the sword.” Itachi picked up a small blade, testing its feel. “It’s length should be as this one. I would like the hilt engraved with red and black along with the Uchiha seal.” Itachi replaced the blade, turning to the man. “Can you make it to my specifications?”



“Yes.” He turned from Itachi to shout into the back. “Nagato! Get your lazy ass out here. We have work to begin.”



From the back came a stunning young man with odd ginger colored hair. He bowed low to Itachi before going to his employer, only to receive a slap to the face.



The sight brought a frown to Itachi’s lips. He said nothing but watched as the young man was treated as nothing but a work animal. “Who is he?”



The weapon smith returned to Itachi, accepting the coins he offered. “Nagato. His father sold the worthless piece of shit to me last month. He was quite the religious zealot, citing that the boy was the result of his wife’s infidelity. I find it hard to believe since the boy has his father’s eyes. What do I care? It was cheap labor that I own for life.”



Itachi fought the urge to strangle the man. He was sure he’d never seen a creature more full of life. Some part of him found the boy strangely familiar. It was on the tip of his memory, locked away through the passage of time--perhaps the result of meeting an ancestor.



While the weapon smith counted his money, Itachi approached the young man. “Your name is Nagato?”



Gray eyes widened, looking desperately at Itachi. There was recognition there though Itachi knew he’d never met the other.



Nagato seemed to regain use of his tongue and nodded. “Yes.”



Itachi stared at him for several more moments before turning and returning to the weapon smith. “I wish to purchase the slave.”



Eyes bugged out. “You want Nagato?”



“Yes. Tell me what you paid for him and I will double it.”



Greed worked its way across the man’s face. “Triple.”



Itachi’s lips thinned but he nodded. “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow with your coins. Have him ready to come with me. I expect him to be in the same shape he is now.”



“Don’t worry about Nagato. I’ll have him ready for you.”



Itachi nodded. “See that you do.”



Leaving the forge, he could almost feel Nagato’s eyes on him. He would have turned to verify when Sasuke raced up to him. “Did you have fun playing, little brother?”



Sasuke nodded happily, showing off several small pieces of hard candy. “The others were eating them but…I wasn’t sure…”



“It’s fine, little brother. It will offer you no nutrition but you may eat it if you like.” Itachi ruffled Sasuke’s mussed hair.



Sasuke popped the bit of hard candy in his mouth, wincing at the sweet taste. Itachi chuckled, taking the remainder from Sasuke’s hand. “Don’t like it?”



“Too sweet,” said Sasuke with a frown.



Itachi chuckled, popping the pieces in his mouth. He loved the flavor of human sweets. He wished he could eat them and feel fulfillment in his stomach. At least he was allowed to savor the taste.



As the sun set on the horizon, Itachi approached his father’s rooms. “Father?”



“Enter, my son.”



Itachi slide the door open, walking on silent feet to kneel before his father. “You don’t look well, Father.”



“I’m very tired, Itachi. Soon I will relinquish my throne to you.” Fugaku placed his hands on his thighs.



“Perhaps if you and Mother took a more active role in Sasuke…”



Fugaku shook his head. “Bringing Sasuke into the world was a futile attempt to bring some joy back to Mikoto. I’m afraid it failed. I could tell the moment she held him in her arms, she would only stay as long as necessary.”



“But…”



“No, son. I have promised your mother I will arrange everything.”



Itachi closed his eyes, bowing until his head touched the polished wood. “As you wish, Father.”



“Send Sasuke to me. I wish to spend time with my youngest and final son.”



Itachi left the room with a heavy heart. He did not make it to Sasuke before collapsing onto the floor. His hands went to his abdomen to feel for what he was sure was a knife wound but finding nothing.



“Itachi?” Sasuke rushed to him. “What’s wrong?”



“I don’t know…Sasuke, I need to leave.” Itachi needed to go…he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was a premonition. He felt a sudden and desperate urge to find the slave he’d arranged to purchase.



“I’m getting Father.” Sasuke disappeared before Itachi could stop him, returning moments later with Fugaku.



“I need to go, Father. Something…I don’t understand it.” Itachi ran a hand through his long hair in frustration.



“Itachi, you’re not thinking reasonably. You’re not well.” Fugaku placed a gentle hand on Itachi’s shoulder. “Come rest with me.”



“No, Father…I need to…” Itachi doubled over again, his hand rubbing desperately at his heart.



Fugaku frowned, knowing exactly what this was. He withdrew a knife from his sleeve and sliced through his palm. A few quickly utterances of ancient words along with a blood sacrifice had Itachi collapsing into Fugaku’s arms.



“Sasuke…Let’s go put your brother to bed. He’s likely to sleep for several hours, if not until dusk tomorrow.”



A servant approached as he laid Itachi upon the futon. “My lord…Lord Danzou is here to see you.”



“I shall receive him in the garden.” Fugaku covered his son before moving quickly, pausing under the awning of the house. “Is it finished?”



“It is finished, my king.”



“Good. Itachi will be your lord soon. Serve him as you serve me.”



oOo



Itachi blinked awake. He no longer felt the pain or compulsion of the previous night though a strange ache throbbed in his chest. He couldn’t believe he’d slept so long. To sleep through a night was nearly impossible for their kind.



“Itachi! You’re awake.” Sasuke practically slid across the slick flooring. “Father said you would sleep long.”



“He did magic on me.”



Sasuke nodded, “It was amazing. You dropped like a rock in a pond.”



Itachi nodded, striping his sleeping kimono for a clean yukata. “I’m going into town. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”



“Can I come?”



“Not this time. I’m bringing a human back with me and I don’t want to have to worry about you.” Itachi slid his feet into sandals and stepped into the garden. “Stay out of trouble.”



Sasuke snorted, but waved goodbye to his brother.



Triple what the weapon maker paid was steep but Nagato would be worth it. He wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to the other. He felt a deep connection, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.



“Where’s Nagato? I have your money.” Itachi approached the weapon smith.



“Dead. I don’t know who did it but if I get my hands on the idiot who killed him…”



Itachi froze, pain shooting through him. Dead? It wasn’t possible.



He stumbled back, leaving the tradesman to his craft. The world felt as if it was crashing down. He felt as if he mourned for someone who he didn’t know, yet it still hurt. If he was just another human, why did it hurt so much?



oOo



Nagato, please forgive me for withholding the truth. I severed my own bonds in hope of joining with you but soon found it not in my fate. If you are reading this, you now know the truth. Itachi didn’t betray you. Fugaku Uchiha betrayed Itachi and I betrayed you. I hope you can forgive me. With my bond severed, there is a chance I will be reborn. I will be a normal soul but I hope if we somehow meet again, you will look kindly on me.



Always, Konan



Pein felt the journal fall from his fingers. He felt empty. His life was a lie. Everything he’d held dear was a falsehood built on betrayal.



He wanted to rage at Konan. Why? Why had she allowed him to grow bitter? Rage though he might, he knew the answer. She’d hoped he would sever his own bond and create a new one with her.



Closing his eyes, he felt tears pool in the corners. “Idiot.”



“Pein?”



Pein swiped at the tears, looking back to stare at Neji. His hands were clasped before him and his eyes held just as much anguish as Pein.



“Yes?”



“I thought you would like to know. The man who did this, who took her from us. He is a lord amongst the nightwalkers. He goes by the name of Danzou,” spoke Neji calmly.



Pein felt shock work through him. His hands slowly lifted the journal, running his fingers over the leather binding. Danzou. He was the one who killed him. Though he never saw the man, he now understood. Konan must have known this would happen. None could see the threads as clearly as her.



“Thank you, Neji.”



Pein gently returned the journal to Konan’s desk. Danzou’s time on the earth was limited. He refused to rest until the past had been reconciled and Danzou’s blood coated his hands.



To be continued…



AN: This story has fanart. Whoo! Here is a link to it. Enjoy and leave her a comment telling her how fabulous the pic is. http://la-vita-a-colori.deviantart.com/#/d2xlhjj