Konoha: The Honored One

(A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! I hope this year brings you all success, happiness, and countless opportunities. Thank you once again for supporting this little project of mine. As a token of appreciation, here's a bonus chapter for you to enjoy—let's dive in!)

The Aftermath of the Blast

The ground beneath Rain Shinobi Village shook violently. Waves of milky white light expanded across the horizon, swallowing the land in a blinding glow. Everything within a ten-kilometer radius dissolved into ash, leaving behind a crater so enormous that it resembled an oversized "Big Chungus".

The power unleashed was almost beyond comprehension, a force on par with a small-scale nuclear explosion.

The villagers of the Rain Village trembled, their wide eyes staring in stunned silence. Murmurs spread through the crowd like wildfire:

"It must be God's wrath!"

They looked up at their supposed savior, Pain, perched high above, misinterpreting the event as a divine punishment.

Meanwhile, on a nearby black tower, Gojo sat casually, squatting at the edge like a bored child watching a carnival. One hand shaded his eyes from the lingering glare while the other idly spun a lollipop stick between his fingers.

"Wow," he muttered with a tone that suggested mild amusement. "That's one heck of a party trick. Almost made me spill my candy."

Gojo observed the glowing, molten crater left behind by Deidara's self-destruction. For a moment, he appeared genuinely impressed, a rare occasion given his usual nonchalant demeanor.

"In the entire ninja world," he mused, "only Tailed Beast Bombs could top that blast. Well, maybe one of my moves too—if I ever felt like trying. But nah, too much hassle." He chuckled to himself and flicked his lollipop stick over the edge of the tower.

Just as Gojo prepared to teleport back to his students, a glint of motion caught his eye.

"Paper Shuriken!"

From the sky, a dozen razor-sharp projectiles made of paper spiraled toward him, their edges gleaming unnaturally thanks to chakra infusion.

Gojo raised a single finger.

The shurikens froze mid-air, inches from his skin. They hung there, suspended, as if time itself had decided to take a break. With a flick of his wrist, the paper weapons fluttered harmlessly to the ground.

"Paper?" Gojo drawled, his voice tinged with amusement. "You could've just sent a letter. Would've been cheaper."

Descending from the sky came a woman whose presence was as striking as her attack.

Konan, the Angel of the Rain, hovered effortlessly with paper wings unfurled behind her. Her violet-blue hair, tied neatly into a high bun, gleamed in the dim light. Despite the menacing red clouds of her Akatsuki cloak, her delicate features and alabaster skin gave her an almost ethereal beauty.

"Destroying you is God's will," Konan declared, her tone calm and measured, her sharp eyes locked onto Gojo.

Behind her calm demeanor, Konan's mind raced. She had been briefed on Gojo's strength by Nagato. This man wasn't just dangerous—he was an anomaly, a living weapon whose very presence could derail their plans.

Gojo tilted his head and grinned. "God's will, huh? Let me guess—Pain sent you? Let me give you a tip: don't trust guys with messiah complexes. They always end up crying about something or another."

Konan didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she waved her wings, sending a deluge of paper shurikens raining down like a deadly storm. The attack was precise, relentless, and almost elegant in its execution.

Gojo, however, stood completely still. Every shuriken stopped in mid-flight, forming a swirling barrier around him. He casually examined one of the paper blades, twirling it between his fingers.

"Akatsuki sure likes their themes. Red clouds, tragic backstories, dramatic speeches—very theatrical."

Konan's expression didn't waver, but she pressed forward. "Why waste your strength defending this broken world? If you have such overwhelming power, why not help us create peace?"

Gojo smirked. "Oh, I could help, but then I'd have to listen to Pain drone on about 'understanding suffering' or whatever. No thanks. I prefer my life simple—training brats, eating sweets, and annoying people like you."

Konan's patience wore thin. She dashed forward, her wings folding into sharp blades as she slashed at Gojo with lethal precision. The paper edges, reinforced with chakra, could cut through steel like butter.

Yet, like everything else, they stopped just short of Gojo's skin.

Konan gritted her teeth, frustration seeping into her usually stoic demeanor. No matter how fast or strong her attacks were, they couldn't bypass the invisible barrier surrounding him.

"What's the matter, Angel-san?" Gojo teased, leaning closer with a sly grin. "Losing your cool already?"

He raised a hand and gently tapped her forehead. The sheer audacity of the gesture made Konan recoil.

"Can't we just talk this out?" Gojo said, his tone mockingly earnest. His eyes drifted downward, and his smirk widened. "By the way… what's with the navel piercing? Trying to distract your enemies with non-mainstream aesthetics?"

Konan's pale cheeks flushed faintly.

"I told you…" she hissed, her wings spreading wide. "Don't. Touch. Me!"

A swarm of explosive tags erupted from her body, encasing Gojo in a suffocating cocoon of paper bombs.

"Accept God's punishment!" Konan declared, clapping her hands together.

The explosion that followed was deafening, a massive plume of black smoke rising into the sky. For a moment, it seemed as though Konan's attack had succeeded.

But as the smoke cleared, Gojo stood untouched, lazily fanning the air around him.

"Ugh, so smoky," he muttered. "You know, you should really consider switching to non-combustible paper. Better for the environment."

Konan's calm facade cracked. "How?!" she demanded, her voice sharper than she intended.

Gojo shrugged. "It's simple. You can't touch me. My power creates an infinite distance between us—nothing physical can reach me."

Konan's mind reeled. The ability wasn't just defensive; it was absolute.

"And me?" Gojo continued, his grin turning mischievous. "I can touch you as much as I want."

In a flash, he disappeared and reappeared behind her, his hand lightly tapping her shoulder. "See?"

Konan froze, her body trembling slightly as anger and humiliation boiled within her. "Release me," she demanded, her voice cold and biting.

Gojo leaned in, his voice a playful whisper. "Only if you say 'please.'"

"I'll ask you one last time," she said, her voice steady but resolute. "Will you stand aside, or must I destroy you to fulfill Nagato's dream?"

Gojo tilted his head, his smirk fading into something almost thoughtful. "Dreams, huh? You Akatsuki types sure love clinging to grand ideals. But here's the thing—people don't change. You can't force peace by shoving it down their throats. It never works."

Konan's hands clenched into fists, her gaze hardening.

"I will kill you!" she hissed, her voice dripping with fury.