The room was filled with his soft breathing. Konan lay beside Pein, her blue hair falling over her bare shoulder and down to her chest, the flower sitting on the bedside table beside them.

The only time she let down her hair was when they were alone. It was a small tradition between her and Pein… ever since their first kiss in the rain years ago. When they were young, when that other one was alive, they'd kissed. It was wet and it was soft. Her hair had dropped out of the flower to fall around her face and her shoulders. The rain had darkened it till it was almost black. They'd kissed their first kiss like that- a wet kiss in the wet rain, the two shinobi feeling the first stirrings of true love, of true unity between souls. They were the same height, with their identical dark wet hair messed by their hands till there with no way of telling where his ended and hers started, they'd witnessed terrible things in the war, had terrible things done to them, felt the same helplessness, the same terror, the same feeling of being alone and vulnerable. The pain they shared was the same.

But as they had kissed that first kiss, they found without words that they were the same, and with all the grace of young adults who'd never kissed before, who'd never touched before, who'd never known how to show affection before now, they'd spent that night in a clumsy dance between their lips, their hands, their bodies. They were one in body, soul, mind, and they from then on never left the other's side. From that first night in the rain, they had agreed without words that they were born for the other.

And that other boy- he was with them but he was never apart of them. But he was strong. And he could protect them both in a way that Pein couldn't. It had frustrated him so much in those early days. But it had hurt him when he killed others. It hurt him so much that soon he couldn't do it in his first body. He'd needed someone else's body, someone who could kill and kill without remorse. If he could only have that then he could do it as well. And if he could do it then she, his angel, could do it too. He had only found the strength to do what he had to when she became his partner. It had been the same for her. The night when he became Pain, they swore in words and in the blood of others to be with the other, lovers, partners, to protect and follow the other till they both breathed their last breath. He only let down his guard with Konan. She only let her guard down with him.

Konan shifted onto her side and gazed down on her sleeping partner. She ran her fingers over the dark hair that had fallen across his face, admired the way his eyes fluttered under those absurdly long dark lashes, wondered what it was that made him mutter indistinguishable things to something in his dreams. She kissed the scars left on the body from the wars they'd witnessed as children, it still pained her to see them, but they never faded. He'd never let them fade. This was his first body- the body that belonged to her and her alone and the one that was his weakest. The one that made him feel most vulnerable. When he was in this body, he placed all faith in her.

He was stirring and quietly he whispered, "Konan."

She leaned down to press her lips to his lips, his forehead, his cheeks, her small piercing brushing against his bare face. He opened one eye and reached up to place one of his fingers over it. He'd hated it when she got it. He was Pain now but when she'd tried to follow him into Pain he'd shown so much distress by the idea of her in pain when he came back to his first body that she'd promised it would be the only one. But even in his distress, she knew he understood why she'd gotten it. She followed him, and she'd follow him into pain, into death if that was where he wished to go. But this was as far as she could follow him at the moment, for she was the last thing that brought him pleasure. She alone balanced his life and if she followed him into pain, the excess pain he felt would be her betrayal.

"Sleep more." She urged and pressed her fingers to his eyes, shutting them. To her delight his pale face broke out into a genuine smile. That was becoming more and more rare with each passing day. He enclosed her hand and pulled it away to stare at her with that same wondering look he'd had reserved for her since their first kiss. For a moment he looked like he was thirteen again and she had just kissed him.

"No." He hesitated for a moment, then reached up to grasp her hands and push her onto her back, his thin pale body pinning her down against the bed. His dark hair framed their faces; his lips trembled in anticipation of something that he needed to have to feel secure with her.

And there it was, the sudden pounding downpour of rain. As it came down on Amegakure, his lips and body came down onto hers, her head was pressed back with the urgency and pressure of his kiss, his hands squeezed her hands. It was their rain, his rain, hers, the rain created for them alone. It would sound furious to others but to them it was passionate, strong, it protected them both at their weakest. His body crushed into hers, his hands grasped at her hair and her hands pulled at his back. Pein's hands trailed down her body, stroking one curved breast, her neck, her soft arms that were as pale and delicate as the paper she could transform into. He paused for a moment, one hand trailing up her body again to run his long white fingers through Konan's loose hair. And for a moment he was that thirteen year old again, wide eyed, afraid she'd push him away and reject him for the stronger one. There was insecurity leaking into the one small word he almost pleaded, "Konan?"

She smiled then and she could feel a thrill of delight run through his body. That was their exchange of love- no sappy 'I love you' and no spoken declarations of 'eternal dying love' or 'love that was as beautiful as the sunshine'. They smiled for each other, or said the other's name while they grasped hands, or stroked the other's hair; they showed their love through their tiny actions and their bodies. He was always afraid that she'd forget, or reject, and it made her love swell further for the man, the boy, the one who only belonged to her and to this moment. He still hovered, waiting, and she knew their exchange of love wasn't complete. As small voiced and as shy as the first time she'd said it without the honorific, she whispered into his ear, "Nagato."

He fell onto her then, not as Pain, not as Akatsuki, but as Nagato- her love, her other. With the world left behind, her God and his Angel joined souls once more.

A.N- I always loved the idea of these two being lovers as well as partners, and the idea that the only time Pein's old name is spoken is when he wants Konan to say it to him. And that when they're alone like this, they probably behave a lot more like what they used to when they were more innocent.

Also I imagine if that were the case, it'd have been very rude of Jiraiya to come along and address Pein by his old name.

I also tried to avoid guessing any plot in the future, we can probably say this is just before Jiraiya shows up in Amegakure but it really has no plot time.

This is version two; I can't believe I didn't edit it before I submitted it!