One upon a time in a faraway land…
In a time of darkness, you might have but one person to rely on. One person to save you from your prison and slay the dragons that locked you in. That's how the fairytale goes, isn't it? Konan had often read these as a small child, as most kids tended to do, letting their imagination run free. How many countless hours had she spent locked in her room, giggling excitedly over the beautiful illustrations and fanciful storylines? It had been a hobby of hers, and she could be found folding beautiful dragons and castles from the paper that she always found a way to get her hands on, even in the recession. Flying creatures inhabited her room during those years, ones made of paper, yes, but still full of life to her nonetheless. Each one had been made with love and care, and each one kept her company during those lonely nights when her parents fought. Their harsh words had cut through the air, reaching even the 'sleeping' little girl that was curled up in her bed, tears falling like tiny raindrops onto the bed, until a small paper dragon would soar across the room to her, her only friend in this dark and huge world.
And then one day Konan's parents died, slain by the evil forces of war, and everything changed. Her dreams of wild adventures and exotic lands turned to nightmares, when she could sleep at all. She was forced onto the streets, a cold and harsh reality for the young child who had spent most of her time immersed in books that taught of happy endings and true love. The rain fell more often than ever now, and her beloved creations crumpled in the wetness and fell into shapeless and lifeless lumps. Konan would look into puddles of muddy water, gazing at the girl she now was. Her face was deathly pale, covered with dirt and grime, her hair unbrushed with clumps of hair tangled, her gorgeous electric blue hair turning to an ugly navy color. This was her prison, she realized soon enough, her captor and her curse, and no prince was going to rescue her from the cold and hungry nights.
She was wrong. One night, she lay on the street made of cement, hard and chilly. Konan was used to this by now, the discomfort and pain that came with the simple and necessary task of sleeping. Clutched tightly in her hand was a book, the cover a dazzling array of colors with a large, detailed dragon on the front. It was her favorite fairytale book, and her parents had bought it for her on her fifth birthday. The illustrations were amazing, and the story one she could lose herself in time and time again. It had once been her most prized possession, but now it was simply a pillow for her to rest her weary head on. It wasn't long at all until she realized that she wouldn't be able to sleep, her small stomach rumbling loudly. It had been so long since she'd had a decent meal, you could actually count each rib on her skinny little chest. Tears flooded her eyes as the pain swept through her aching body, and soon it all came pouring out. It was the first time Konan had cried since the death of her parents.
She tensed and jerked her tiny body as she felt a hand placed on her shoulder, right near her grotesquely extruding collarbone. Her weak heart sped up, pounding in her chest until it sounded almost deafening in her ears. Her already pale skin blanched even further to an indescribable color that would put even the most avid albino to shame. She gazed at the dark figure with moist eyes, drying the tears that were still in her eyes. Her wavering vision focused soon on the person, ready to leave the alleyway for whoever wished to stay there, an experience that she'd gone through a lot, but never this late at night. She almost expected herself to be killed. But then a cloud that had been blocking the moonlight drifted off and she could see the intruder clearly, a gasp escaping her lips.
"W-who are you?" She squeaked in a high-pitched voice, sounding like a frightened animal ready to bolt. In front of her was a boy her age, dark hair covering his eyes, mouth in a sternly set frown. He looked as malnourished as her, she realized, and as a gust of wind shifted the bangs that covered his eyes, she could catch a glimpse of the tears that had stained them as well. There was something funny about his eyes, Konan noticed, but she didn't have enough time to figure out what exactly. It took the boy a while to respond, and it seemed to her that he had gone just as long a time without speaking as she had. There was no need for it, when you lived alone on the streets. Your words could get you killed in these horrible times.
"My name is Nagato. What's yours?" He asked, his voice shaky and nervous, as if expecting the first kind-looking person his age that he'd met to run off and leave him alone in the darkness. Though Konan couldn't see it, she knew that they had locked gazes, almost as if seeing who would run off first.
"My name is Konan." She stated simply, her voice both quiet and calm as she realized that this kid was no threat to her. The boy held out a hand to her, and she could see as he moved his bangs aside that he had an insistent look in those hypnotic optics of his. And before she knew it, that fateful question that would forever change her life escaped his lips.
"Me and a friend are going to get some food, would you like to come?"
"Sure." And she dropped her book forever, leaving behind her fairytale dreams, and followed him.
Years later, they were no longer street rats, victims of war that were looked down upon by the oppressive bureaucrats. Far from it, in fact. Nagato…no, Pein now, ruled this village in a better way than the former rulers ever had. Poverty was decreasing swiftly, and no more children lay hungry in the alleyways. She wondered, from time to time, what would have become of her if she hadn't taken him up on that offer. She probably wouldn't be here by his side, witnessing the birth of a whole new world. He was a god now, as the villagers often said. So often, in fact, that even Pein took it as true that he was no longer a mortal, but a god and divine ruler. But he would always be more than that to her. He would always be a prince to her, better than any of the fairytale one's she'd read about. Her savior from the dragons and curses within. He was her prince, always and forever, even though she knew, she could never be his princess. The last line, she now knew, of those fairytales was the biggest lie of all.
And they all lived happily ever after…