-TO FALL FROM GRACE

KAMIHARO [ ... ] Is a CANON DIVERGENT & AU, HIGHLY SELECTIVE, Medium activity Roleplay blog for KONAN, of [岸本 斉史] Masashi Kishimoto's series, NARUTO. Drowning in the struggles of Living, Dying, Hope & The Shinobi Way.

The power he held, what he had done. To be bold and daring, to take life not for the just cause that they where leading the crusade on, not for the radical change that they wished to spread across the world, but for himself, to undo the untold damage, but the scars lingered there, from his chest, to his back, down to his legs from the injuries he had suffered in protecting her from falling to harm, the signs of them all, lingered and clutched onto his form, there was no heavenly power that could wash them away.

He was a divine being, the power of the first sage flowed through him, the power of a god that would change the world, but here within the flickering light and crawling shadows, he was just a person, a person who had made a promise to her, a vow if you will. To not harm her nor go too far less she was ready and wished for it to be so. As he swallowed, lightly, feeling her presence, even through the darkness, enough light to see her and then feel her come closer and closer to reach out and hold him.

She was gentle, something that needed to be protected and cherished above all other things within this word, as he felt himself. The rain never bothered him, the coldness was never something that harmed him as well, you have to get used to it to live within this land, but for the first time within his life, he felt a chill, run down his spine and made him shiver, at her words. “I would never…” Harm a single hair on his angle head, he would never speak a cruel word to her to harm her feelings and even this. With her against him, he found his hand resting on her back to keep her close, to have that rare feeling of someone actually caring for someone like him, to feel her own bare skin against his and know, the coldness was being ease and lifted and replaced with warmth.

“You trust me –” As his eyes, widened for a moment and then closed just slightly enough so that he could still gaze upon someone as perfect as her, an angel this was the truth, in every single sense of the word, as he slowly nodded his head. “I want this as well.”

Fingertips brushing gently, steadily, against marred grooves of scars & reflections of the bitter past- she could taste it's sourness against the tip of her tongue. A world so cruel & unforgiving in it's blood soaked ways. Where children born to the promises of a better future, were forced to drink from the mud pools of wastelands in the ruins of WAR. Villages so focused on the greed & hunger for both power & wealth that they would cast their own people down in suffering just to meet their own selfish goals.

Yet as lips brushed helplessly against one another in the downpour of blessing rains, she felt for one night alone- she might just forget the pains & sufferings of their beginnings. ❛❛ I know you wouldn't.. ❜❜ Her words removed breathlessly from her lungs. Hands moving cautiously upwards to hover over the bare shoulders of her Deva. Skin cold & electrified in the gentle whistling breeze of the oncoming storm.

Knowing well this was all his doing, however as the roaring thunder cracked & raged overhead- she felt ever safer in his presence. Grasping the zipper of her shirt with a trembling hand, the angel pulled slowly. Letting the deep blues of her clothing mingle in the flickering candle light whilst skin as perfect & untouched like fresh morning snow was left revealed to none but him. A sight only he was deserving of seeing. ❛❛ I do.. ❜❜

In a way, Konan was right. If Amegakure prospered, it was due to her and Nagato. It would be bad to leave everything to chance. Maybe this small village can keep the Rinnegan from falling into Madara’s hands. Konoha could indeed be the number 1 target given that the village is weakened at the moment and that Naruto still hasn’t been caught.

“You’re right. That would probably be the best solution.”

His heart sank. So this is how it is. The father of her child was Nagato, right? Could Jiraiya guarantee the safety of any of them at the moment? No. Even knowing Nagato’s secret, they were unable to prevent the destruction of Konoha. If Madara was involved, nothing could be guaranteed.

“Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee anything. After everything that’s happened, it’s impossible to guarantee anything. But what I know for sure is that we’re stronger together. It’s not safe to be apart right now, but if we unite… What if Konoha and Ame become allies?”

Topaz hues of her listless love- for a man whom had raised and protected her when young. She couldn't keep the delicately painted porcelain of her hands away. Moving to reach up and touch at the time kissed face of the Sanin. ❛❛ Even without guarantee, I know you have only done your best for us. ❜❜

Words soft like summer rain, as she let the digit of her thumb stroke lovingly against his cheek. A tenderness in the cold of her heart she could have only reserved for those closest to her. ❛❛ If you truly think it would be to the benefit of both our villages.. Of us and the future of this child. Then I'm willing to talk. ❜❜

ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ;

◈| 折り紙の女神 |⇢ Looking on, she saw the light of bare skin in it's marred perfection. Like fresh lilies bathed in milk and just as delicate, much like her own. Watching the midnight of his cloak fall from him as if parting his body from the very weights of their past. However what could be truly dug deep within the depths of his mind- she would never truly know lest he told her.

As timid fingertips mindlessly reached out, to touch the soft flesh of her manifested affections. She hesitated mere inches from contact, second guessing her worth before the very man she adored. However at the gentle, tender sweetness of his confessions - she let skin meet. Understanding as before her place beside him. Never as one to walk before nor behind. But beside him from now and forever past this moment. ❛❛ I trust you.. ❜❜ She whispered. Moving delicately painted hands down to pull and guide the very hands of her god.

ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ; Of anyone who meant something In her life- Konan kept a cut piece of their hair. Weaving the strands into delicate bracelets in which she wears on her wrists. A memento and memory of the family she was not born with- yet was raised knowing and loving.