Who: Pain and Konan
Status: Closed
Style: Present tense, paragraph form.
Where/When: Himorogi; approximately an hour or so after Pain has awoken in Kannagara
Warnings: none yet; will edit if necessary
What you are not aware of is that it makes him afraid.
Afraid: unsettled, your word, might be better suited.
Nagato has not dreamt for many years,
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Existing bereft of her presence had been the most curious feeling.
Nagato knows Konan as a creature who lives in the spans of silences, and who weaves those silences with her fingertips: into so many roses and tulips -- the woman who then wears these silences in her hair, and every fold and tuck is, as if - he wonders, sometimes - a word gone unsaid.
She is slender and milk-pale. She does not bruise. Nagato knows Konan (and pays more attention than you would suppose; though with so many prodigious eyes, you might say to spare a little attention is the least of his considerations) as a woman who takes far too long to perform even the simplest of endeavors for herself - even the folding of one of these silences, these flowers - as if in the too-lengthy movements she is attempting to extend her life, or to pass more moments than she should on a given task. As if she fears the absence of tasks. As if she fears what her mind might turn to, should her hands become still.
This is how Nagato knows Konan.
This is how Nagato has come to ( ... )
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"Of course.." she says, unnecessarily. But there is something about his voice that seems...
...to need cover. Protection. She doesn't want to leave it hanging in silence. He looks at her and she's warmed, because it's important that he see her, too. That he knows she's there ( ... )
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