Samui's bow was indeed too dazzling.
Logan averted his gaze awkwardly. From behind him, he heard Samui speak in a serious tone:
"Please consider it carefully. No matter what Kirigakure or the Land of Water can offer you, we—the Hidden Cloud Village, the Land of Lightning—can only give you more."
With that, Samui swayed her hips and departed gracefully.
Logan didn't watch her retreating figure. Instead, he opened his notebook and resumed writing and sketching in it. Without looking up, he spoke softly to the shadow behind him.
"How long do you plan to hide there?"
Terumi Mei stepped from the shadows, casually shaking the bottle in her hand.
"Drink something?"
"Sure."
She joined him, sitting at the edge of the rooftop like Logan. Pouring two glasses of wine, she handed one to him and asked, "Was it a good view?"
Logan accepted the glass, pausing for half a second before chuckling. "I thought you'd ask what Samui and I talked about."
Terumi Mei scoffed.
"People from the Hidden Cloud are all the same. Money, manpower, authority—anything to lure the strong into working for them. Especially pretty boys like you—powerful and good-looking."
Logan took a sip and nodded. "Not bad."
"'Not bad'—what's that supposed to mean?" Terumi Mei began to ask, but then she stopped. Logan was answering her earlier question: "Was it a good view?"
Logan was just a normal man. A glance at someone beautiful was instinctual. The ability to look away was restraint.
"So, were you interested?" Terumi Mei asked lightly.
"No. Too much for me."
"Huh?"
Logan looked serious. "The Hidden Cloud Village is too big. Powerful military. Vast resources. Me being there would just be decoration. I could never implement the kind of changes I've made in Kirigakure."
"Oh... so that's what's too big."
Logan raised an eyebrow and glanced at her. "Also, Kirigakure has you."
Terumi Mei's heart skipped a beat. Her lips felt dry. She was about to say something when Logan continued.
"There's Zabuza, Ao, Chojuro... and many others who endured the Bloody Mist days and survived hell. Those people will treasure peace more than anyone. Working with them—and you—makes far more sense than being a pawn in the Cloud Village. You see—"
Logan pointed to the village shrouded in mist below them.
Countless lights flickered peacefully under the dark sky.
Raising his glass to her, Logan smiled.
"I want to help you keep this light burning... until peace reaches the entire world. Sound good?"
Terumi Mei looked into his eyes. In the moonlight, his gaze sparkled like polished obsidian—clear, unwavering.
She exhaled softly and muttered, "You're really a succubus, you know that?"
"Cheers," Logan said.
They clinked their glasses and downed the wine in one gulp.
Terumi Mei kept her eyes open while drinking.
She stared at the stars, then the moonlight, then at Logan again. She hadn't been drinking all night, but suddenly, she felt a little drunk. Emotions bubbled in her chest like rising heat, pressing at her lips.
"When the world is finally at peace," she said softly, "I'll step down as Mizukage... and you'll have your own village. I'll come find you. Okay?"
Logan looked at her in surprise. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes sparkled like spring water. Clearly, she was drunk—saying things born of wine and sentiment.
He smiled and replied casually, "Okay."
"Like hell you will!"
Terumi Mei stood up, patting herself off and raising her chin defiantly.
"I'm Terumi Mei—a woman destined to shine! Who'd go to your little farm village to play house? Let's go."
She waved her hand and wobbled down the stairs.
The celebration had long since ended. On her walk home, rain began to fall. Cold droplets landed on her face and soaked her clothes—but it felt oddly comforting.
She walked faster, then broke into a jog. She hummed an unknown tune, skipped in the puddles, and occasionally laughed quietly to herself.
Like a child.
Logan, watching from above, smiled. "Just like a kid."
Aerosmith hovered in the sky, ensuring the drunken woman arrived home safely before it vanished into the night.
---
The following days were unusually peaceful for Logan.
It was as if he'd never publicly decapitated a daimyo. He strolled through Kirigakure openly, sometimes wandering out to talk with old farmers in the fields or fishermen by the river.
Konan, arms crossed, finally asked, "What are you doing?"
Logan closed his notebook. "Taking notes. Don't you think it's strange?"
Konan raised an eyebrow.
"Technology here is fairly advanced. We have electricity, machines, even computers. And then there's ninjutsu—literal magic."
Logan gestured broadly.
"But despite all that, life doesn't seem very... prosperous."
Konan tilted her head.
"Meaning?"
"It's a major problem."
Logan flipped through his notebook.
"Let me give you a simple example. It's something people in my homeland obsess over: If we have electricity and machines, why haven't we built roads? The world is full of dense jungles. Why hasn't anyone cleared them?"
Konan narrowed her eyes. "So?"
"Every so-called Ninja World War is just a resource war. But if the return on self-development surpasses the return on plundering, war becomes inefficient."
He tapped his notebook.
"I'm trying to trace where the technological tree veered off course... and see if it can be corrected."
Technology. Roads. Agriculture.
Konan's head was spinning slightly. But she understood the core message: Logan wanted to use technology to boost food production and resource availability—making war less necessary.
She frowned. "Even if it works, Kirigakure will just become the next Hidden Cloud. Once people are well-fed, they'll still want expansion. How do you prevent war then?"
Logan handed her the notebook.
"Take a look."
Konan took the thick volume. The cover was simple, but the pages inside were packed with neat handwriting and diagrams.
"This is everything I've written so far," Logan said. "I included ideas from Orochimaru's bioengineering research and adapted them to agriculture and industry. Each village has different circumstances, but this could help."
He looked up at her.
"Today's the tenth day. You're leaving soon. Consider this my parting gift."
"A... gift?"
Konan blinked. "Aren't I a prisoner?"
"Maybe. But even prisoners can receive gifts."
She opened the notebook. It was filled—hundreds of pages, some with detailed illustrations.
As she flipped through it, her breath caught. As Rain Village's de facto leader, she immediately recognized how valuable this was. Many ideas were completely new to her—but practical, and in some cases, transformative.
This wasn't just idealism. This was a blueprint to help Rain Village escape its cycle of suffering.
She stared at the book.
"This is... really for me?"
"Of course," Logan said. "I'll keep updating it. If you're interested, I can send you future volumes."
Konan closed the book carefully, as though it were fragile.
"Then... thank you," she said solemnly.
Logan smiled and held out his hand.
"Goodbye, Konan."
She didn't shake it. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped him in a gentle hug.
"Thank you, too," she whispered. "For your hospitality during this strange little chapter."
She patted his back and turned away.
Konan walked off slowly. She reached into her bag, pulled out the Akatsuki cloak, and slipped it back on.
All things brilliant in life are eventually repaid with solitude. In this brief "captivity," she had witnessed many dazzling souls.
Ahead lay new battles, darker ones.
She saw Pain waiting at the end of the street.
Beside him stood Uchiha Itachi and Kisame, silent as shadows.
"We're going to face some darker guys," she murmured to herself.
But as she touched the notebook tucked safely in her pack, she felt a strange warmth in her chest.
A quiet sense of hope.
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