Konan's face was full of irritation as she dragged her pen across the report, scratching it out with a loud stroke. Another night's worth of her subordinates' hard work had gone to waste. Kita thought it best that Konan shouldn't handle official matters in such a state; after all, when Shigure had come to her, he carried the prayers of dozens of ninja on his shoulders.
Kita tapped the table lightly, obeying Konan's silent command not to speak—but Konan hadn't forbade her from moving about.
Stepping forward, Kita grabbed Konan's hand and strode toward the exit.
"Eh, eh! What are you doing?!"
—Kidnapping.
A single-handed gesture, even after years of disuse, was easy for Kita to perform. The administrative hall of Amegakure was high up, and openly walking through it carrying the village's "angel" might not have been wise. Still, when Kita opened the window, she glanced at the girl she held, smiled oddly, and with just a slight push, held her firmly in her embrace.
Finally, it's time to show this jutsu I've trained for all these years in front of the angel.
Blue chakra formed wings behind her back. With a powerful leap, she soared upward, the wings beating the air as she shot toward the sky.
"Eh?! When did you learn this?!"
It was no exaggeration to say Konan was shocked. Kita had spent decades running across land; without Deidara's clay birds, she had no real aerial combat ability. Yet now, judging by the density and power of her chakra wings, Akatsuki had gained another capable air fighter.
Kita didn't answer Konan's question.
"You told me not to speak," Konan said.
Konan's reaction was a mix of laughter and tears.
"Alright, alright. When did you develop this jutsu? Why didn't I know?"
"It's not really my creation. I saw this type of jutsu during my travels, studied it whenever I had time, and recently mastered it. It's not like your versatile secret jutsu; mine only assists in aerial combat."
The chakra wings were vast, comparable to the paper wings Konan could form in battle. Their solid, vivid blue presence was almost tangible. Controlling chakra to this extent—even highly skilled medical ninja could not manage it. Konan felt a surge of pride. No wonder I admired her.
But a small worry nagged at her, and she asked cautiously.
"Does it consume a lot of chakra?"
Kita's chakra was still in a conservation phase. She knew better than to overuse it, especially after learning from Nagato's earlier example.
"It's not as efficient as your paper wings, but this amount doesn't matter to me. I designed it for aerial support anyway."
She glanced at Konan in her arms.
"You've always carried me. Now it's my turn to carry you."
Her bright blue eyes radiated warmth, not exactly romantic, but gentle. Her lips curved slightly, and Konan relaxed against her narrow shoulder.
"Don't think this means I'll forgive you."
The wind rushed past, and Amegakure-soaked village below shrank. From above, everything looked misty and small, and with it, the worries and trivialities seemed to drift away.
Kita smiled, letting Konan's words fade into the background.
"Flying made me understand your longing for the sky. From up high, it feels like worldly troubles are irrelevant. Pain, difficulties—they all seem trivial. Things I once obsessed over, raged against, or despaired over… now, they just seem… inconsequential."
This cage I built for myself… all those obsessions were mine alone.
Konan sighed. She understood Kita's inner knots better than anyone.
"It's good that you understand."
Kita smiled, nodding.
"Same goes for Nagato."
Konan's anger wasn't truly directed at him—it was at herself.
"I know. I wasn't angry that he agreed to Obito's request, or that he saved someone from Konoha. I was angry at myself for not understanding Nagato. And even if I had seen it coming, there's nothing I could do to stop him."
That's the essence of it.
"My dream may be world peace, but more than that, I want Nagato and you to live well. Even as ninja, forced into dangerous acts, we shouldn't have to do them alone. Nagato, you, Yahiko—you're indispensable to me. But has any of you ever really consulted me before making decisions? I could compromise, or at least be told so in advance. Don't keep scaring me repeatedly—it's maddening."
By that measure, whether it was living Nagato, dead Yahiko, or Kita holding Konan now, they all share a history of secrecy.
Kita decided to speak for Nagato—and for herself.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."
"Does that mean I shouldn't worry?"
Kita didn't know how to answer. She couldn't match Konan—not yet, at least.
Konan sighed.
"I'd rather suffer understanding than enjoy ignorance. Protection born of love is far harsher to endure than harm done in hatred."
Kita nodded, understanding.
"I won't hide anything from you anymore."
"Mm—hm?"
Her body shuddered slightly. In midair, her center of gravity shifted, and she began to fall rapidly. Her chakra wings dissipated, yet she laughed as she plummeted.
"'Kidnapping' failed. I told you, it's no match for your paper wings. Last time, it lasted half an hour… looks like the Strength of a Hundred Seal still affects me."
Even falling, they remained embraced. Konan smiled—there was no trace of fear.
"Seriously, I have nothing to say. By the way, if you master the Strength of a Hundred Seal, can you stay young forever?"
"Hmm, according to Sakura, yes."
"Then what if I get old and ugly?"
"If you're ugly, I'm blind."
"Tsk! You believe I won't throw you off?"
Kita gave a long line of black thought.
"Stop fooling around. Use the jutsu, or we'll really fall."
Konan chuckled faintly, looking down at the tiny village below. At this speed, they'd be descending for dozens of seconds yet.
"Why panic? You can fly, can't you?"
Kita admitted defeat. Even with aerial mastery, she couldn't compete with Konan's decades of flight experience.
"Konan, I'm sorry—ahhhh!"
Free-falling, Kita panicked, but Konan remained calm. As her form dispersed and reformed, she held Kita safely in her arms. When their speed stabilized, Konan glanced down at her slightly pale, frightened companion.
"So scared I'd drop you?"
"Of course! If I die, you'll really have to face Kisame."
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"
"You said Kisame was fine, right? Not even sparing the fish. You're too extreme."
"…You better believe I'll really let go."
"Eh, eh, eh! No, no, no! I'm wrong! I'm wrong! Really wrong!"
"Hmph. Coward."