Title: What's Inside?
Pairing: PeinKonan
Summary: Konan saw pass Pein's cold exterior.
Pein sat on the terrace where he hovered over Amegakure. His eyes were locked in blank space, but he was still aware of what was happening around him. His left leg dangled on the edge and the other one was propped up. He rested his right forearm on his right knee, the knuckle of his index finger pressed thoughtfully against his lips. Low rumbles of thunder could be heard. Dim lights flashed dully against the first of the few billion raindrops the dark clouds loosed. He was thinking again. Analyzing. Strategizing. Brainstorming.
Thinking.
Deeply.
Their Leader had grown quite impatient with the numerous failed attempts in capturing the Kyuubi – members have died, their numbers have decreased; some members acted without orders; absolutely nothing had been accomplished – and now, it was their turn. He expected nothing less from Pein; and from Konan, nonetheless. The way they worked together was flawless. His skills and techniques have always been great assets in missions; never failed. Her blotless mission records were something to be admired in the Akatsuki–
There was no more room for errors, anyway.
Not if you're in the Akatsuki.
Not if he made that clear.
Pein's eyebrows slanted downward a little bit. The perfect plan he had just thought of had a loophole. That's a bitch. Not so perfect after all, now was it?
This was God.
He sat there, motionless, back from square one, thinking more thoroughly this time. He knew somebody was watching him.
He didn't pay any heed to it…
… too much.
It was only Konan. Nothing to be worried about.
-----
His back was facing her. The drizzle had become heavy rain. He hadn't budged from that spot in the last forty-seven minutes…
A God's work never stops, she thought.
An image of the young Pein, Nagato, flashed before her eyes. He was gazing up at the sky. His lips formed an unnoticeable frown. That depressed aura emitted from him. Strands of hair obscured his eyes. A vision of her childhood friend.
Nagato shivered as the wind blew through the window of their shanty home – if you could call it a home. Their makeshift house was as small as a tent, if not smaller. The walls were several, slightly rotted, flat woods; held standing by the metal wires hooked onto it (and were wrung on a post nearby). It was, overall, covered by several ripped garbage bags so that the rain wouldn't soak the already decayed wood. The window was splintery – due to it being sawed unevenly and carelessly – and was draped with a rag-shirt, more or less like a curtain.
Under the whole structure was a large cardboard box. It was there to block out the cold-cemented alley-floor. Nothing was inside other than a kerosene lamp and two blankets.
He found all of these building parts in the garbage dump a mile from here. They survived with it. Somehow.
Konan had been out for about half an hour, now. He began to get worried. She went out to buy food (with what little money they found dropped negligently on the road). He should've gone with her. What if something dreadful had happened?
What if–
Konan stumbled in with a little brown bag grasped tightly in her hands. She panted slightly. Nagato hurriedly went to her. He noticed right away that her left arm was cut and was bleeding quite badly. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and tightly tied it on the wound. She winced.
"What happened?" he asked, fear nearly grabbing him by the throat.
"There were some kids who tried to steal our food."
"Why didn't you just give it? Look at yourself, you're muddy and bleeding."
"I couldn't. I wouldn't let go."
She gave in to a half-bright smile.
He saw her purity. Her kindness. Her care. For him.
The two of them weren't the only children who were homeless, hungered and needy; there were several out there. Nagato knew that (hell, people knew that). Brawls in alleys – and sometimes on the main road – broke out frequently. All because of the determination to survive. Others stole goods. Some beat the weaker party then ran with pockets that contained with either money or food…
… they all wanted to survive.
And Konan just happened to be a victim of the latter. Except that she had gotten away with her hands full.
He knew she didn't let go because she knew that he wouldn't hold out for too long if she didn't arrive with food or water – or anything at all.
His lips quivered slightly as his eyes started to bring out tears. But he bit them back. Hard. He needed to be strong, for both of their sake.
Konan opened the bag and the smell of hot bread wafted across the place. She brought two out and gave one to him. Then she brought out two, covered Styrofoam cups with hot chocolate inside. She placed out a small jug of water next.
"There was a nice lady there and she gave me these as an added bonu–" she stopped.
Nagato had his head down and his voice wavered.
"Konan… t-thank y-you…"
She drew near to him and brushed his long bangs aside. His eyes were glassy with held back tears.
"It's no trouble, Nagato."
Then she hugged him. Tears stained her shoulder.
She was watching the sky now. Her expressionless eyes stared at the dark sky. Then she turned her attention back to the man who sat at the edge of the terrace.
Nagato was still there. She knew.
That troubled boy, who rarely (faintly or never) smiled, was locked up in there.
Inside the man who had grown cold towards the world. The man who brought rain to cleanse the sins of the people in the village.
The man who made her his angel.
Nagato was still there. She was sure.
Because nobody else watched her made origami except Nagato.
And Pein watched her.
Every time.