This is my ode to Konan, arguably one of the best female characters in the manga. I'm really touched by her final scenes in the anime this week, and I thought I'd share this little piece with you:)

So. This is how it ends. After all, a pillar without a bridge is just rebar; jutting up, alone, broken. I did not wish to outlive you for so long.

When paper gets wet, it folds—it crumples, it wrinkles, it rips. I will not leave behind bones for fish to gnaw on; I will become pulp; I join sensei at the bottom of the ocean. My black cloak will dissolve into red clouds; I will color the dawn with my own blood.

Do you see that rainbow, Nagato? Yahiko? The rainbow is the bridge, and my soul is the pillar; I will always support you. See? How my soul rises like red paper; it whorls in the wind like a red leaf, it follows the sounds of your whispers to our old home; it follows the rainbow.

Here, thick kudzu vines plow through the wooden floors; through the trap door, through the windows, through the walls. I will set my soul down over my tile, to tell you that I've come home. It's like you said, Yahiko; when we are done, we will return to the little house. The hole in the roof lets the light of the rainbow through. I can see you.

Can you hear me, brother?

Yes, I have waited for you in the sunlight swirling in the dust motes; I have hovered over the kudzu vines, on its bright pink flowers, waiting.

Can you see me, lover?

Yes. You are as you have always been, ultramarine and amber. You unfold like the trunk of the paperbark maple tree; your skin holds secrets in; your skin holds the wind in.

Do you forgive me, sensei?

Yes! Though there is nothing to forgive.

Then bear me up. I will make you each wings of paper, white and whirling; my soul is nothing but paper, sheets of blank books. You shall each have two wings worth of paper, and when we reach the end of that seven-colored bridge, you will write down your words with multicolored ink, until our will is emblazoned on myriad sheets.




The kudzu vines will continue to climb until they subsume our old hideout; the trap door will disintegrate—like our bones, sensei; like our bones at the bottom of the ocean—the walls will cave in. Bright pink flowers on a sea of pale green will cover our memory, while we will fly through the opening in the clouds. We will be real angels, then.

Here, let me fold the paper, let me crease it just so—there. I am ready. A pillar without a bridge is just broken rebar; take me home. Let me hold you up in the sky; let me affirm your will.

Do you remember, Yahiko, Nagato? When we fought till dawn, and the bright morning light glinted off the blood on the battlefield, gilding it? The red clouds that were born of blood—our blood?

I have bled, I have seen the dawn; I have made the dawn from my own body. I am the red sheets from which the red sun rises. Yes, the dawn is very beautiful; you will tell me that I am beautiful, as beautiful as I am wise, and kind. But I will tell you that I am nothing more than a pillar.

Bear me up on your seven-colored bridge. I am your pillar, and I will hold you three up in the sky, a bridge of clouds, or constellations, I don't care which. I will follow you wherever you fly; I did not wish to outlive you for so long.


This is how it begins.

a/n Hope you enjoyed! Please review:)