A week later a garden bloomed under the silver hues of twilight.
It wasn't part of Konoha's official map. Nestled between a low hill and a winding stream, it had been sculpted from earth and chakra, one of Kakashi's private creations.
Flowers that shimmered faintly with chakra lined the perimeter, while tall white-blossomed trees bowed inward, forming a living arch that blanketed the area in quiet serenity. A soft waterfall tumbled over mossy stone in the background, its sound calming, meditative.
Kakashi stood near a vine-covered gate, waiting.
He didn't wear robes of power or armor of war. Just a simple dark shirt and pants, his silver hair catching the falling light. His face was unmasked, as it had been since the end of the war. The war god had vanished for the evening, leaving behind the man who once read books in the sun.
When Konan arrived, she wore something he'd never seen on her before.
A deep-blue yukata with white origami motifs dancing across the fabric, her hair loose and swaying gently as she stepped through the gate. There were no paper wings, no battlefield presence, just Konan, calm and quietly radiant.
"You found it," Kakashi said softly.
She nodded, her eyes tracing the soft petals in the air. "I almost thought it was a genjutsu. This place… it doesn't feel like the real world."
He smiled. "Maybe it isn't. Maybe it's what the world should have been."
"Why did you bring me here?" She turned to him, her expression unreadable.
Kakashi looked around, then met her gaze. "Because this space is mine. Built from my chakra, shaped by my will. I wanted to share it with someone who understands what it means to rebuild."
There was silence for a moment. Then she walked closer, stepping slowly, deliberately.
"Then let's rebuild," she said.
They sat together on a small wooden platform by the water's edge. A soft meal had been prepared, grilled rice balls, pickled vegetables, and sakura tea. Konan raised an eyebrow.
"You made these?"
"Mei helped," Kakashi admitted. "And Tsunade supervised."
Konan took a bite and gave a quiet, surprised hum of approval. "Not bad."
"So… how have you been adjusting?" Kakashi leaned back, watching the ripples in the water.
Konan sipped her tea. "It's strange. Peace. I keep thinking it's temporary. That someone will scream, or a bomb will go off." She paused. "But then I see the children laughing in the market. And I think… maybe it's real."
"It is," Kakashi said. "Because we made it that way."
"Do you believe it will last?" She looked at him.
"If we want it to," he replied. "The Federation wasn't just for the future. It was for us, too. To give people like us something else to believe in."
"What do you believe in now?" Konan set her cup down.
"You." He turned to her, his gaze soft.
The words were simple. No fanfare, no hesitation. Just the truth.
Konan looked startled at first. Then she gave a faint, rare smile.
"Then you're either brave," she said, "or very foolish."
"I've been both," Kakashi replied.
She looked away, but her voice was softer now. "Nagato… Yahiko… they believed in saving the world. And they died because of it."
"They weren't wrong," Kakashi said. "They just didn't have the time to see it through. We do."
Konan was quiet for a while. Then she leaned slightly against him.
"I feel guilty sometimes. For being happy."
Kakashi didn't speak, but he moved his arm around her gently.
"I watched too many people die," she continued. "Killed too many myself. I never thought I'd laugh again. Or love again. And now… I sit in a garden with you. And I wonder if I deserve it."
"You do," he said. "We both do."
Konan closed her eyes. "Then let me believe it. Even if just for tonight."
They sat like that for a long time, no words, only the sound of water, leaves, and quiet breath. The light dimmed, stars began to pierce the sky, and the garden took on a faint glow from the chakra within its roots.
"I never thought I'd fall for a man like you," Konan finally said, breaking the silence.
"Because I read too much?" Kakashi teased.
She nudged him. "Because you carry too much. Power, history, loss. It's dangerous to love a god."
"I'm not a god," he said. "I'm just a man with too many burdens… and a garden."
"Then let me stay in your garden." She looked at him, her voice barely a whisper.
He turned, their faces inches apart. "Always."
Their kiss this time was slower. Deeper. Not the rush of new discovery, but the promise of something lasting. Her hands moved to his jaw, fingers tracing the scar that no longer pained him. His own hand found hers, entwining their fingers.
When they pulled back, Konan's cheeks were faintly pink.
"You really have gotten more handsome," she muttered.
Kakashi grinned. "I didn't notice. But thank you."
"Every woman in the mansion does," she added.
"I'll have to be careful then," he said.
She smiled again, a soft, genuine smile. Then she stood.
"Walk with me," she said.
They moved together through the garden paths, past the glowing trees and the soft breeze that carried the scent of night flowers. As they reached a clearing, Konan stopped.
She looked up at the stars.
"I used to think we were cursed," she said. "Those shinobi were never meant to know peace. Only missions, orders, deaths."
"Maybe we were," Kakashi said.
"Then why are we here?" She looked at him.
"Because we broke the curse," he said. "Together."
He moved closer, their bodies barely touching.
"Konan," he said.
She turned to him.
"I won't promise a perfect world. Or a life without war. But I will promise that I'll stand in the way of whatever threatens us. That I'll protect you. And this peace."
Her voice was steady, even as her eyes glistened. "Then I'll stay by your side. Not as a shadow. Not as an angel of death. But as Konan, the woman who chose to love again."
They embraced under the stars.
Far above, the moon watched quietly.
Below, the garden bloomed brighter.
And for that one night, there was nothing but peace.