Preparations Underway [Konan, Madara]

[Pein]

At night, Amegakure seemed to take on a life of its own. The streetlights, in a low humming sound, set the metropolitan area aglow in hazy shades of orange. The light reflected in the puddles of rain gave the road to the western towers a glamorous flavor, where there had been nothing but a lackluster atmosphere during the daytime. Throughout all the artificial radiance generated by such an industrialized city, with its pipes stretching to untold heights, the stars were barely discernible, even from the higher levels. One had to reach the highest peak to admire the firmament. But most citizens rarely gave the sky a second glance. The war had damaged the economy, and living conditions were tough. Their eyes gazed at the pavement in a morose fashion, reflecting nothing but emptiness. There was little variation in the general mood, a city burdened by hardship, something with which Pein was pleased. Living a life of simplicity was like worshiping a false god; it would unfailingly turn sour in the end.

Of course, the more affluent citizens, most of them having financially backed Pein's faction in the war, mistakenly believed they were immune from the wrath of God, if not solely by virtue of status. But justice, at least Pein's justice, was indiscriminate in every regard. As it was often the case with such people, they owed their wealth to disreputable dealings, and built their corporate empire at the expense of others less fortunate. Pein knew he would find some way to dispose of them once they would have outgrown their usefulness. His ideal world had no place for seedy affairs.

After the civil war, Pein had witnessed the slow stabilization that inevitably followed the end of hostilities. The crime rate was down to a much lower state than it had been under his predecessor, Hanzou. It was terror that kept the citizens from disobedience, Pein reasoned, and thus the means by which he had achieved his victory. The essence of victory was a matter of causality, and he had accomplished the desired effect. Pein thought himself the catalyst for change, and in this thought, he had always found satisfaction. It was a constant reminder that his will had run its course throughout the city, and a promise that it would do the same throughout the world.

Everything was as planned.

Then there was Akatsuki. To an unnerving degree, Pein considered the aspirations of his fellow members to be insipid. Selfish, even. None of them could boast a constructive design, at least not on a larger scale, and like children, they were always spoiling for a fight. But Pein would never be so transparent as to show any of them antagonism. He was, for the most part, appreciative of their work.

Pein removed the straw hat that hooded his face and paused, glancing up at a flickering streetlight. His thoughts veered to Konan. While Pein's excursions on the level below his own had served to clear his mind in the rare occasions he decided to leave his hideout, the question of Konan had always come up. And the answer had always been elusive. Unlike the other members of Akatsuki, her path to self-realization followed his own, but that didn't stop him from considering his partner with a measure of uncertainty. Often, he wondered how much of her own purpose she had relinquished to serve his.

He brushed the thought away. Now was not the time for trivial reflections, especially not with so much about to take place. Pein's footsteps echoed across the narrow street. He trusted Konan had made appropriate preparations, and that her return was imminent.

[Konan]

The chill of the night tinged Konan's pasty cheeks a rosy pink giving her a healthier shade of colour. The fall of the rain was decreasing slowly but it was gratifyingly letting up, first from tiny droplets and then, to none at all.
Glancing up into in the sky, Konan agreed that the night was exceptionally lovely. It displayed a rare party of twinkling stars mottled against a darkened horizon that would have otherwise been clouded over by gloomy rainclouds.
Realising something, Konan lowered her head without a second glance back up. But of course, in Amegakure, the skies would never be relieved of rain for long. Never ever. But also, this period of time granted while Pein was keeping the sky and his emotional tears dry was essential for her to chance a short, impromptu bugging amongst the villagers in guise of paper moths.

Quickly and hastily, she performed the necessary hand seals and dispersed her body into leaves of paper that folded into convincingly realistic moths that fluttered all over the Higher Levels of the village and stuck onto walls in taverns and alleys scrutinizing and listening for telltale signs of suspicious talk.

Pein didn’t have to know of her espionage trips; in fact, he wasn’t even aware that she had been spying on the villagers … at least that was what she thought.
It was true that Pein used fear to keep the villagers’ toes in line and their loyalty fixed unwaveringly onto only one person: Him. But fear itself, she knew, wasn’t enough to suppress such an uprising village down to a level of control where the villagers would be as meek as lambs under the mere mention of Pein and his sovereignty. This was what led to the secret investigations of her own. She intended to flush out potential rebels.

But up to date, she found nothing. Nevertheless, she reaped a sort of pride and personal satisfaction in doing little things like these. It assured her that she was more than just God's Angel and a ring bearer in Akatsuki, besides smoothening Pein's rule over Amegakure.

It made her feel ... helpful.

But when she questioned herself as to why she did these things for him, she found that she couldn't exactly put a thumb on a solid answer.

What made her follow him through his transition from the recluse Nagato to a god called Pein?
This was another curiosity of her life that she, and only she, knew the answer to and was not willing to disclose with anyone yet it was evident that the only reason she saw him through the phases of his metamorphosing persona was because of the emotional bond she had as a young girl with a young boy called Nagato.

A long history raveled about them both into the same intertwining destiny which stemmed from their childhood, from periods of hardship where they grew up together, braved the war and morphed from orphans into ninja under the tutorship of Jiraiya, now known as one of the Legendary Sannin. And that bond lasted long. Even until the day... even until the day Yahiko--
Forget Yahiko. The boy whom they were saved by, the one who was both their protector and friend was gone. So what good was it to bring up his name again??

In a lonely alley, Konan recombined the clouding sheets of paper around her, transforming them into flesh and blood before finally emerging as herself, solid and whole.
She was done spying and the rain was still unwilling to pour ... yet. Nevertheless, Konan too much an orderly woman to take chances. Quickening her pace, she glided across the shadows of the village and back to the hideout but not before ensuring a proper alibi should the need for it arise...

[Uchiha Madara]

Amegakure was as strange a sight as any, with its towering rust-covered structures, spreading outward from the center, everywhere. Having no look-alike among the other villages, or even among cities scattered across the land, it turned its back on the ground, aiming only for the sky above. If he were to personify it, he'd call it a giant with an iron will, still reaching up with his strong arms to catch something that might fall, heaven-sent, although countless storms had bent his back during the long wait. But perhaps even more interesting a contemplation topic was the card Pein, now leader of Amegakure, played that layout for.

It became a mentality of sorts. The higher one got, the closer one would be to reaching God. In their foolish minds, that somehow meshed with also being better trusted, which was so wrong it became amusing. But it had been a clever move. Pein would so inspire to those that inhabited it the same single-minded approach the village symbolized. It could be a lie, albeit Pein, the source of it, was not a liar – perhaps the man thought himself God, as well, faring no better in finding himself than others did.

A vicious circle again – those were still the best, even to one with as many years behind him as Madara had.

All of those effects were lost in the night, though. The darkness swallowed everything, and a myriad of lights shone instead of the singular bright prospect of God above from during daytime. Interesting, if not quite desirable in Madara's opinion.

Calm, hands in his cloak's unclear pockets, the man stopped at the center of an open platform to stare up into the starlit sky. Or at least what would have been one, though there only distant crests of towers dotted his view, all straight and still. With all the rain that poured here commonly, Amegakure seemed as though it had cried itself to sleep in those few hours when the falling water was thinned or halted. The tears of God, raindrops – that belief was universal, or almost so. Do you cry all the time, then, Pein? Perhaps one day Madara would pose that question to his quiet ally, burden him with its implications and its silent mockery. At that moment, though, he only smiled behind his mask and kept it to himself, where most precious things ought to rest.

The residents were tentative to emerge, it seemed, the dark only feeding their fears. Alone out there, the Uchiha exile figured he must seem, to wary onlooker eyes, like a lone target that openly invited wrath upon it. Knowing so didn't affect him much more than, perchance, to make him keep that smile a moment longer than intended, while he resumed his trek through streets and ascending stairways. The water saturation was omnipresent there, crawling even into the folds of his patterned cloak. It was slow, but it imposed its reign upon all that dared set foot in its territory. Madara, however, did not plan to be integrated – his business here would be short. Still, he had to admire that pull, threatening to absorb all it contacted, never to let it go again.

His steps took him higher and higher, in only the company of those many thoughts. It wasn't the first time they crossed his mind, and it wouldn't be the last, though he always reserved them for when he visited Amegakure. For all the disagreement between their views on the world they lived in, Pein had created quite the masterpiece from such a place. Madara gave him credit for that, at least, though as was his nature he showed nothing. Not even his face, and not even his advance, preferring to emerge behind the lone other man, turning from the nearest corner, as was his usual game.

"It seems I have the luck of always finding you on break," he said.

If words were similar in any way to knocking on different portions of a wall in a blind search for secret passages, then certainly his casual opening line for that meeting would have been the one that sounded false.

[Pein]

Madara's entrance would have been just as effective without the theatrics. Pein halted his tracks, not without a slight hint of annoyance at himself for neglecting to notice Madara's presence until now. At best, his visits were unpromising, if not downright unwanted. But they were never without a point of interest, given that Pein would be forced to act in accordance with whatever instructions Madara felt were important enough to warrant his physical presence in Amegakure.

"Is that so?" he said. Even to Pein, the reply seemed terse. "How timely of you, in that case."

So would begin an endless exchange of formalities, as it had been the case between them for what seemed like ages. For Pein, respect and courtesy were things he felt particularly bound to pay to this man, even though it often seemed advisable not to. And though he had no love for this particular brand of pretense, it grew increasingly important over the years since Madara's ambitions ran in a direction parallel to his own. Perhaps civility was the last string that tied their conflicting natures together, and without it, everything would come undone. It became obvious over the years that it was the turn their association would take, but Pein preferred to let these things happen due course. Conceivably the outcome would favor him in the end. The past, after all, didn't guarantee the future. He'd already proven that.

In the beginning, he had viewed Madara with great appreciation. When humanity seemed made only of selfishness and brutality, he had stood apart from that, always willing to lend a hand, always in good time. Pein remembered thinking of Madara as having the empathy of a man who suffered in his life, as well as the pride and courage to complement it, qualities which weren't without their appeal. How much of these thoughts had been engineered by Madara himself, he couldn't know. In fact, it was impossible for Pein to pinpoint when he developed these reservations, or what had set them off, so gradual had been their sway on his opinion. In any event, Madara had always delivered on his promises, but his comments and what they suggested impressed themselves more readily upon Pein now than they had in the past.

He broke from his grim thoughts, and in all graciousness, bid Madara to follow him. He led the way in silence.

The tower from which Pein assumed the rule of the city was modest in size and garnish. By preference, his living space reflected an ascetic lifestyle with its monochromatic walls, making use of basics items only. The scarce evidence of Konan's presence was the only thing preventing the room from looking completely sterile. For the most part Pein didn't care one whit about the state of his quarters. But extravagance displeased him. It led to greed and other forms of indulgence. And if his space gave any indication as to his frame of mind, it spoke of clarity and precision.

He took a seat first, stiffly, signaling Madara to do the same. "I suppose you came here because it's urgent?"

[Konan]

As Konan hurriedly made her way back home, her eyes skimmed over the skyline of buildings, pipes, towers and even more pipes before finally centering onto that mediocre tower of Pein's abode. Theirs to be exact...

Light was radiating from a line of small, circular holes as big as a fist, set in the tower walls, designed more for ventilation purposes than as actual windows as according to Pein's preference with small, helpful suggestions from her, of course.

The sight of those glowing holes did not bring good news to Konan. It could only mean three very bad things; one, Pein was back; two, the visitor had arrived; and three, she was late.
There was no prizes in guessing who the visiting man was, because if it wasn't Madara, Pein would not have requested that Konan update and prepare the portfolios of their progress reports and monthly accounts (sent in from Kakuzu), which she had dutifully completed prior to going out that night and she was certain that Pein would be able to give an excellent overall report of their doings should Madara request for it during his visit.

There was neither like nor hate towards Madara in Konan's heart. She revered the masked man in a relationship that was based on respect out of obligation, not one out of pure veneration, as she saw him as the medium that would transform Pein's dream into a reality though she was aware of their perpendicular ideals.
But yet, at times, she had doubts on the man's sincerity for her war-laden childhood had left her with the bitter taste of how treacherous man could really be. And during that time of the month when her nerves were most frazzled, Konan had thoughts of Pein and Akatsuki being nothing but mere pawns in a bigger, much more intricate scheme controlled by Madara's manipulative fingers.

But those were probably just assumptions... Such thoughts aside, Konan delayed no more and entered the tower.

"I apologise for my tardiness in keeping to time but there was an errand that needed running at the last minute," Konan said, feeling that the paper bag of provisions in her hand should be excuse enough. If that didn't work, she was prepared to use womanly issues as a drastic measure.

"Now, something to drink first, perhaps, while I fetch the reports and account book?" she offered, not bothering to smile, with a glance at the two seated men.