Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, do you really think Itachi, Pain, Konan, Jiraiya etc. would be dead?
4. Silence
Nagato has withdrawn his presence from the Six Paths, existing for now solely in his original body. Little noise penetrates to this room, on the deepest subterranean level of Rain's central tower. Konan sits on the stone floor, her back resting against the apparatus that sustains his true form. The pure-white paper in her hands folds and unfolds itself over and over as she practices her craft. She experiments with new shapes, and he watches the novel creations become more sophisticated with each iteration.
After a while, the paper takes on its most familiar form: the first one she learned how to make, and the one that he sees every day. She reaches up and holds the single white rose out to him. Nagato's arm trembles, and a dull ache radiates from the places where the chakra rods have pierced his flesh, but he's able to move his hand just enough to take the flower. The paper is cool against his palm, and he smiles at this token of affection.
They've been spending a great deal of time like this lately, away from prying eyes and with the masks of the Paths dropped. They rarely speak to each other when they're together like this, but neither of them minds. After passing most of their day in the bustle and clamor of the city above, the silence that permeates this secret place is refreshing.
Nagato doesn't need to ask Konan for an affirmation of how she feels about him, because the flower in his hand provides the answer. Nor does she need to ask him, because the fact that she's the only one allowed into this inner sanctum says more than words ever could.
They've been hardened by years of war, and neither would ever allow such sappy words as "I love you" or "You're a precious person to me" to pass their lips. But in these silent moments, they find ways to say the words without saying them.