((Ironically, Emiko is the person most responsible for this.))
It was cold, and she cursed herself for caring. She was going to be dead in minutes. In a small, squalid little room, a block was laid out. Shinobi watched, in case she tried anything. She could do things with metal. Should she want to, she could even try it on the axe that Ieyoshi held rather steadily. It wouldn't be enough, for now in addition to the poisons that weakened her chakra system, her hands were manacled, just in case.
She turned, asked a question. The war...? The answer at first made her straighten up, and then wince in horror. She nodded and slid down onto her knees. They ached too, and the cold was bone deep. Her arms behind her, shackled.
She'd stopped crying, stopped thinking. Last night she had thought she had even found peace with her death.
And yet here, once it was there, beckoning her, now she was trembling just a slight bit, stiffening. Ieyoshi was behind her.
"Any last words?" he asked, calmly.
"Mother. Reef," Nami said, quietly, the words slurring together, blurring together.
Mother, who kept her warm and loved her and left.
Reef, to which she was supposed to be loyal to the end.
Mother Reef, the mother who raised her and was now putting her down.
She didn't know what it would feel like, she didn't want to. Pain, pain was what being cut meant, and yet this would be quick, right? Ieyoshi wouldn't botch it, had no reason to. And yet she trembled.
"Anything else?" he asked, a little baffled.
"No, there is nothing else," she said, and again she saw all that her words might be unfold before her. A shinobi could see a thousand possibilities, a thousand meanings: could walk through the world and a battle moving so fast anyone else would lose track of things. And she could see that she had to mean multiple things. But she didn't have time, it wasn't last night, spent huddled in that cell, thinking and justifying and hoping.
Now she was down to her last words. Seven words.
Mother. Reef. No, there is nothing else.
Now there were tears, and she was blinking them back and -and was that Emiko? No, she couldn't be in here, and someone would have said something, one of the observers. Some of them the parents of the dead, hoping this brought some small satisfaction. It could have been more public, and she found herself grateful that it wasn't.
And yet, standing there, was Iwasaki Emiko, watching her.
"Are you ready?" Emiko mouthed.
She was...Nami took a breath, steeled herself, and then Ieyoshi asked what Emiko must have known he was going to ask, "Are you ready?"
And now, and now and not a few seconds ago when she was falling apart, she could nod, and turn slightly and show a calm and even face. Slip on your mask, arrange your face, that's what Emiko was telling her. A last gift?
No. Not that simple. But Nami had no more time to figure her out.
She turned and waited.
The executioner was behind her. She shouldn't even see the blow coming.
There was a brief moment of extreme pain, and then there was nothing at all.