Covered in blood, Kanon gazed up at the azure sky. As her vision blurred, hallucinations began to take hold, whisking her back to a distant afternoon before she turned six.
"Sasuke-niichan! What took you so long to get back?"
"Sorry, Kanon. We had exams at the Academy today."
"But you promised to practice shuriken with me!" little Kanon protested, pouting.
Sasuke let out a light chuckle and poked Kanon's forehead with his finger.
"Forgive me, Kanon. Maybe next time."
"Hmph! You're just copying Itachi-nii again."
"Hehe, what can I say? You're my little sister. Is the bathwater ready?"
"It's ready!" Kanon huffed.
"Then I'm heading in."
"Go ahead, go ahead," Kanon grumbled helplessly.
A moment later, Itachi entered, still clad in his Anbu uniform.
"Is Kanon-chan waiting for her big brother to come home?"
"I am! Itachi-niichan, when are you going to teach me some ninjutsu?"
Itachi, too, reached out and gently poked Kanon's forehead.
"Forgive me, Kanon. Maybe next time."
With that, Itachi disappeared into his room.
Ten minutes later, her father, Fugaku, opened the front door.
"Papa!"
"Ah, Kanon-chan. Are your brothers back yet?" Fugaku's stern expression finally broke into a smile as he scooped her up into his arms.
"Both my brothers are meanies! Neither of them will teach Kanon-chan ninjutsu."
"Hahaha... truly my daughter. You've got spirit!"
Mikoto poked her head out from the kitchen, smiling at Fugaku and Kanon.
"Dear, dinner's ready once you've washed your hands."
Fugaku, Itachi, Sasuke, Mikoto, and her younger self sitting at the table… the image of a family living in perfect harmony.
The dying, battered Kanon took in every detail of this memory. She yearned for it so desperately. Faintly, she saw endless fields of flowers, the place she had always dreamed of finding.
"Papa... Mama... Sasuke-nii... I'm sorry. Kanon was too useless..."
"I don't think I can find that flower field anymore..."
The scene shifted violently to the Night of the Massacre, the exact moment the cold blade pierced Izumi's brow.
Watching this, she felt like a failure once again, unable to do anything but lament her own powerlessness as Izumi died.
Lying in the forest, Kanon's face was deathly pale, drained of all color. Her hollow eyes welled with blood and tears as her mind returned to that horrific night. She saw her six-year-old self howling, weeping, and trembling over the bodies of Fugaku and Mikoto.
The pain in her heart transformed into a thousand blades, reaping what remained of her soul.
Around her, the sixty-plus Anbu did not lower their guard even though she lay motionless. Dozens raised their kunai to deliver the finishing blow. One ninja lunged forward, thrusting his blade toward Kanon's chest.
CRACK!
The sound of metal hitting earth echoed. The kunai had passed through her as if she weren't solid, striking the ground beneath.
"Something's wrong! She's strange!" An unknown terror surged within the ninja's heart.
The girl before him seemed as if she no longer belonged to this world. Several more ninjas hurled kunai; without exception, every weapon passed through Kanon's body and embedded itself in the dirt. Even the kunai and shuriken already lodged in the dozens of wounds on her back slipped through her torso and fell to the ground.
Kanon had become like a projection, intangible to any attack.
Though her body was undergoing a bizarre transformation, her mind was still trapped in that night, sobbing over her parents' corpses. It was a heart-wrenching agony, as if she were being executed by a thousand cuts. Memories flashed through her mind like a film strip.
Is this what death feels like?
Finally, Kanon found herself kneeling on the ground. She shifted from her six-year-old self back into her current form. The only difference was that standing before her, in a field of crystal-clear flowers, was a girl who looked exactly like her.
"Konin..."
"Kanon, look at the mess you've made of yourself." Konin gazed at her with an expressionless face.
"I'm sorry..." Kanon apologized, her voice trembling. "I failed your expectations..."
Seeing her like this, Konin placed a hand to her forehead.
"Kanon, it is only at the moment of death that a person can truly see their own value."
"I suppose so, Konin. Looking back at my life, it seems I've done nothing but fail."
As she spoke, Kanon reflected on her existence. Everything she had ever strived for had fallen just short.
She sought peace, only to witness the Night of the Massacre and the corrupt darkness of Konoha. She sought friendship, yet she was the first to be forgotten by her peers. She sought the warmth of family, only to have the corpses of her parents collapse into her arms. She was called a genius, yet she changed nothing, watching helplessly as her dear friend Izumi was heartlessly murdered.
Compared to her two brothers, her life felt like a series of insignificant trifles. She couldn't change the past, but she could at least leave a bold, crimson mark on her final chapter.
But she looked so pathetic right now, didn't she?
She should have grown up carefree, working toward the Uchiha's future, Naruto's dream of becoming Hokage, and the flower field in her heart. Instead, she had been swallowed by the darkness of Konoha, ending in total defeat, dying in a civil conflict in a desolate corner where no one would ever find her.
"I never expected this to be my end..."
Kanon forced a smile, the blood on her face highlighting her sorrow. She turned to Konin and cried out:
"Konin! I have no attachments left, and I have no value!"
As the words left her mouth, Kanon plunged her right hand into the left side of her chest, piercing her own heart!
"Look, Konin! Look at my heart!"
"Konin, my heart is empty! My blood has run dry. I have nothing left!"
Watching the sobbing, battered girl, Konin walked forward calmly and stroked Kanon's head.
"Then let it be empty..."
"Kanon, you were never meant to live for others. It's time to grow up. It's time to wake up."
"Kindness alone will get you nothing in this cruel world."
With that, Konin tackled Kanon to the ground. In this mental realm, the pure white spider lilies in the crystal field began to turn a deep, vivid red. Konin stared into Kanon's hollow eyes and bit down hard on her shoulder.
Blood stained Konin's lips, but Kanon didn't say a word. She had become numb to the pain, numb to everything.
"Until you find your answer, I shall level every obstacle before you!" Konin's voice echoed through the mental space as her form vanished.
In an instant, the pristine white field within Kanon's mind was drenched in a sickening, scarlet gore.
Though ages seemed to pass internally, only seconds had gone by in reality.
The seventy Anbu watched in horror as a terrifying chakra erupted from Kanon's body. This chakra was so vast and potent that it dwarfed the Nine-Tails' presence during the attack years ago. Through sheer chakra alone, her injuries stabilized. The bleeding stopped, and the gaping holes in her flesh began to knit together.
"Mon... Monster!"
"Don't back down! Kill her!"
Being elite Anbu, dozens of them regained their composure and unleashed a volley of shuriken.
But Kanon's eyes were no longer the three-tomoe Sharingan. A rose-like pattern had formed, the Mangekyō Sharingan.
As the shuriken passed harmlessly through her body, the crowd stood frozen in shock. Someone instantly recognized the eyes.
"The Mangekyō Sharingan!"
But it was Konin who now controlled Kanon's body. Blood began to leak from Kanon's right eye.
"Amaterasu..." she whispered, her voice colder than ice.
"AAAGHHH!"
A scream cut through the air as a ninja was instantly engulfed in black flames, reduced to ash in seconds.
But she wasn't finished.
"Apocalypse: Flower Burial..."
Hundreds of cherry blossom petals swirled out from Kanon's right eye, flying toward the seventy jōnin-level Anbu like razor-sharp daggers.
Whenever a petal struck, the victim was not only consumed by black flames but also caught in a spatial distortion that crushed their body into a bloody mist.
In a heartbeat, nine Anbu were dead.
The blossoms didn't stop; they tracked their targets with autonomous precision. Under the horrifying assault of Apocalypse: Flower Burial, another twenty Anbu were pulverized into mist and incinerated by Amaterasu. The flames continued to spread.
The remaining ninjas looked at Kanon with pure terror.
"Cursed monster! I'll take you with me!" Some, realizing there was no escape, charged blindly with katanas raised.
CLANG!
The sound of snapping steel rang out. Behind Kanon, a crimson ribcage manifested. A massive red hand reached out, snatching the attacker and crushing him into a spray of blood.