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His body lay, unmoving, silent, cold… No matter how many times he stared upon this sight, it would never feel right. Stored away for later use, there lay Yahiko. No… it’s Yahiko, but also not. He was Pain, a being of his own creation. Everything that Yahiko should have been, a god.
Fragile fingers traced the shape of his jaw, his hand coming to cup his cheek and stroke so gently as though he would break. The stiff skin, lacking in life, freezing, unreal. Everything that he once was, gone in an instant. Nothing more than a puppet… but the true leader still. He could never be anything but.
He leaned forward, chastising himself with every movement, and every touch. His face so close to his, he knew it was wrong. He knew it would be better for him to move forward and those memories burned deep into his brain to be vanquished into the depths of his mind. But as he places his lips so close to Yahiko’s, only to redirect to his forehead where his headband rests, he understood the truth. He could never forget; he could never bury these feelings.
Calling himself a god through the voice of Yahiko… and he couldn’t even grow beyond emotions pointless for the greater good of the world. A pathetic excuse for a god indeed…
“So, this is where you’ve been, Nagato.”
The familiar voice popping in out of nowhere gave him a start, lifting his face away from Yahiko’s and facing the source of the voice. There stood Madara, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against a wall not too far. His mask hid any chance of him understanding what exactly he was thinking, no expression to read from. Only his chakra that now he could feel flowing in the room. No wonder he did not realize… his very ability was too capable of hiding his presence.
… How long had he been there? It couldn’t have been long, right? He would have sensed him otherwise.
“Madara… I did not expect you today. To what do I owe this visit?”
“There was something I wished to bring to your attention, however you were not in your tower.” A small gesture in the direction of the main tower that could be vaguely seen through the entryway. “But it seems… I was interrupting something rather private.”
Please say he only saw how close he was… Please say he missed the expression of longing, the near kiss to those cold, yet somehow still so soft but stiff lips. Something he’d longed to do but was never meant to be.
“I was checking for damage from the previous battle.” As though to make a point, a hand returned to Pain, checking near the neck, running his fingers over the area, avoiding eye contact with the masked man. “I’ll be done soon if you would not mind waiting.”
“Nagato…”
He heard footsteps coming closer, and when he looked up, there was a dark eye through the singular hole in the mask staring right back at him. What was it he saw in that eye? It was not nearly so cold as he expected from the legend.
“Madara, what is- “
A gloved hand took hold of his free wrist, pulling on it just enough to bring Nagato face to “face” with him, closer than they had been before.
“There’s no need to cover for your actions,” Madara spoke before he could, glancing back over to Yahiko’s corpse. “Such feelings… never fade.” There was something softer behind those words, something that resonated in a way he would have never expected.
He’d seen it then… That confirmed it. Perhaps he should feel more ashamed, even for as little as he’d done if left alone long enough then what was he capable of? It made his stomach churn but besides that…
“Have you… held such feelings for another? One who no longer exists in this world?”
He almost wished he could take back that question as he felt the hand on his wrist grip a little tighter for a moment, but it soon relaxed.
“Perhaps.” An indirect answer, but that was enough for Nagato to understand why it resonated with him.
He was not so different in that regard. The legend of Madara spoke not of any lovers, only family, and friends. Were they feeling not so unlike his own? Never stated, never discovered, never experienced.
“Then you should understand. These feelings have no place for people such as us. To dwell on such things… we’ll never- “
“They fueled your pain, led you here. It’ll always be a part of you. He will always be a part of you.” A quick nod towards the corpse. “Even a god is not above these feelings.”
A god… if only being a god did truly raise him above these feelings. But Yahiko’s pain, Yahiko’s smile, Yahiko’s warm arms wrapped around him in a hug, they were engraved in his very soul. His final words echoed in his mind, and they would never leave him.
“And neither is a legend.” Nagato returned right back to him, meeting that dark eye directly.
He could see it, the same kind of painful longing behind that controlled voice. The way his chakra flickered for a moment; a pain deeply seated that would likely forever remain a mystery to Nagato. Two people, seeking the same goal, and a pain that bound them. A pain led him to take the hand held out to him, despite everything in his mind telling him not to trust him.
Trust was impossible to earn, he would never hold Nagato’s trust. But he did not regret his decision. Not even when he watched Madara’s hand pull up his mask just enough for his lips to show. And not when he leaned forward and pressed them against his.
How could he possibly consider pulling away? How could he possibly consider doing anything but returning the kiss after a small, surprised gasp against his lips? The feeling of another close, of the need of another in that moment that you can fulfill…
Neither of them was who the other wanted, but they were all each other had in that moment of longing.
When Madara pulled back, he wore the smallest of smiles (or was it a smirk?), a sight Nagato had yet to see. Chapped lips like his own, scars that creeped out from underneath the mask leading all the way down his face… how far up did they go, he wondered.
“A god and a legend…” Madara began to speak, and for once, he could actually see those lips forming his words, and the deep voice exit, “I believe such beings can indulge in such feelings, for a time…” Before they would return right back to who they were before.
And he certainly could not bring himself to disagree… Giving his answer with a lean forward and another kiss, which was followed by a rather gentle press of his back against the wall behind him. Held in place by the mutual kiss, a feeling of disgust sweeping over him knowing the body of the one he loved dearly was watching over…
But in that moment, it did not matter. Only those lips giving him exactly what he craved, allowing him to imagine it as anyone else with a lacking image of his face, was all he wanted to think about.
Thin fingers took hold of his cloak in front, gripping the fabric and taking a handful of it. Head leaning back against the wall once he was released from the kiss. The emotions running through him could not be held in, not when the painful reality set in. He didn’t want it to set in, not right now. He couldn’t. And he could not believe the words that were leaving his mouth.
“Stay with me. Just for tonight.”
And “Madara” did not deny him.