The guitars' soft sounds filled the otherwise silent office. The song neared its end as the apex's power and pomposity faded quickly. The energetic riffs quieted, replaced by the sombre vocals gently accompanied by the instruments.
"Oh, the dreamers may die, but the dreams live on."
A man stood in front of a Palladian window, his hands clasped behind his back. Though his eyes were glued to the rain-stained glass, he listened intently. For the fourth time, the piece had ended, allowing silence to reign for a few brief moments before it would inevitably begin again. He could not remember how long it had been since he had locked himself in the office, and he did not care. It was one of those days when he needed to be alone. His reflections over the past event always got the worst of him, making him grumpy and overall annoying to be around.
Despite his original intention, the man broke the cycle by switching off the sound system. Looking at the digital clock standing on the dark oak desk, he sighed, exhausted. It neared 1 am, meaning he had been here for at least a couple of hours. Realising, it was high time for him to leave finally, he started gathering his things.
A few brief moments later, the man picked up his phone. It lay on the bookshelf where he had left it earlier. Unlocking it, he noticed a few notifications of missed calls and unread messages. He took a deep breath before going through them. After all, he already knew who had tried to contact him.
Without as much as a single thought, he decided to call back, disregarding the late hour. To his utmost surprise, the call was accepted virtually instantaneous.
"Finally," said a soft and sleepy feminine voice. "Why didn't you pick up the phone earlier?" the voice asked, growing colder.
"I think you already know the answer," the man replied, avoiding answering the question. "Why did you call?" he asked, even though he could predict what she would say.
"Nagato!" the irritated woman shouted. "I'm not stupid. I know what yesterday's date meant. So, please take off this mask and talk to me," she added in a much softer tone.
"I have never called you stupid, Konan," Nagato responded slowly. "And… I dare say I would never do it. Anyway, to come back to the topic, I did not hear you calling. I had muted the phone when I came into the office," he added.
"You're still there, aren't you?" the woman asked, but it felt more like a rhetorical question.
"Is there any point in denying it?" the man sighed. "Yes, I am still in the office. I have lost the sense of time. I may be drowning in memories," he added sadly.
"How much did you have?" Konan asked, based on the sounds, getting up from her bed.
"Three, maybe four glasses of whiskey," Nagato said without hesitation.
"Then, I'll pick you up," the woman said immediately. "I'll call you when to leave the building," she informed him.
"Konan, I am not that drunk," the man retorted. "I can drive. There is no need for you to pick me up," he tried to reason with the woman.
"I won't let you drive if you drink anything!" Konan snarled. "I'll be there shortly. And… please, stop blaming yourself already."
"I can not," Nagato said, his voice full of guilt. "All right; I will wait for you, then," he added before hanging up.
When the call ended, the silence returned to the office. It was deafening, bothering the man all too much. Had he played his cards differently, he could have left the building immediately, Conan be damned. But… the sad truth was that the navy-blue-haired woman always affected him greatly. Nagato would have never admitted it aloud, but she had him wrapped around her finger. Simultaneously, the man hated and loved this fact.
Nagato planned to wait patiently until Conan's inevitable arrival. But he quickly realised it would not work for him. He needed to exit the office, leaving all the memories associated with it now. Hence, the man decided to wait outside. Additionally, he thought about stepping into the rain for a moment—a naïve idea, as if getting wet would have washed away his sins and guilt.
…
It did not take Conan long to get to the skyscraper's entrance. From the pillar Nagato leaned on, he spotted her arrival immediately. The man smiled slightly when he recognised which car his friend had chosen. A deep silver metallic Mercedes of S class, the exact vehicle he had gifted her two years ago. Unfortunately, he could hardly see the driver, as the dark, tainted windows did their job marvellously. Not waiting for the woman to call him, he walked her way, trying to gather his wits.
As expected, Conan stopped the car, noticing him. Compared to him, the woman could see him. It took Nagato a moment to get to the vehicle. It was disgustingly warm inside compared to the humid and somewhat cold air outside.
"Hey," Conan greeted him with a whisper.
"Hey, Conan," Nagato replied, embarrassed. "You know that you did not have to do this?"
"You're right," the navy-blue-haired woman agreed. "But I wanted to pick you up. We're friends, after all," she added softly.
"Thank you," the man said, finally looking at his friend.
Conan was a marvellous woman. Her beauty was beyond comprehension. Yet, it was hardly the most dangerous weapon at her disposal. Underneath the perfect façade, a keen and cunning mind resided that Nagato adored so much. A single glance over her clothes told the man enough. She must have changed in a hurry. A thick, greyish turtleneck was slightly too short, revealing the hem of her nightshirt. Her loose light jeans most certainly covered the bottom part of her pyjamas. Still, even though her outfit was rushed, she looked stunning.
"Stay tonight," Nagato offered after a moment of consideration. "After all, what is the use of spare guestrooms if they are never occupied?"
"Nagato…"
"Conan," the man wanted his friend's undivided attention. "I will not let you drive alone through the night. It is not that different from what you are doing for me now," he reasoned. "Moreover, I have not entered your room since you last used it. Still, it is regularly cleaned."
"Maybe, you're right," Conan exhaled heavily, considering what Nagato said. "Yeah, you're definitely right. All right, I'll stay the night, but nothing more," she added quietly.
"I do not ask for anything from you, Conan," Nagato said, trying to sound convincing.
"I know; I'm sorry."
…
When they arrived at Nagato's apartment, it neared 2 am. Even though the man felt exhausted, he needed to shower, feeling dirty. So, after wishing Conan good night, he slowly approached the restroom, trying to sort out the mess called his mind. It was a task far more challenging than one might have expected, but it had to be done.
As the warm water washed over the man's body, the internal conflict in his mind still waged on. He was thankful that Conan did not resume the topic they had started during the call. It would have only made things worse, far worse. He would never forgive himself for what had happened five years ago. And… with every passing year and pitiful anniversary, the guilt and pain only grew. Even though controlling his emotions became increasingly challenging, he somehow managed to finish the shower without it manifesting physically.
Then, cladded in a dark, thin sleeveless tee and matching sports shorts, he slowly strolled towards his room. Given the exhaustion, it would be logical to hasten the process, but Nagato already speculated he would have trouble falling asleep.
After a seemingly long walk, the man finally got to his bed. Laying down onto the pleasantly smooth and soft fabric, he wished for a dreamless slumber, but he doubted his prayers would be heeded. His pent-up fatigue did its part by forcefully closing Nagato's eyes and sending him straight toward Morpheus's realm. However, it was the exact place where his luck ran out. With no control over this realm, the man was forced to watch as a pleasant dream turned into a nightmare he had seen countless times, over and over again. He wanted to cry and shout alternatively, but no sound would escape his throat, making him a mute spectator of his own past. Then, as expected, the world around him started spinning around, morphing into the stage where tonight's nightmare would be played on.
…
A few moments later, the swirling finished, leaving Nagato in a place he wished he could have finally forgotten. He wanted this damned scenery to disappear as soon as he would close his eyes. But as much as it pained him, it would not be that simple. After all, it would not be his first time here, and most certainly, it would not be the last.
The long corridor the man found himself in had seen better days, to put it mildly. Its walls might have been white in the past, but as time passed, the paint had cracked, leaving many gaps in the rigged surface. Nagato remembered this place very well, as it had served Akatsuki as the base of operations for many years. Back then, a mess like this was the least of their concerns, for their financial situation was not the greatest. After all, the organisation itself was fairly new. It was trying to enter a hostile environment where the most significant players tried their hardest to swallow the potential competition before it could find its ground.
The nightmare would soon begin; Nagato knew that. And unfortunately, the man could not do anything about it, trapped in his former self, capable of spectating but prohibited from acting. Still, for his sin, for his crime, it was a fair punishment, he concluded. As if he whispered a magical phrase, the wheel of fate was set into motion.
A moment later, a familiar face appeared at the corridor's end. Nagato wanted so desperately to call his oldest friend but to no avail. Despite his best effort, it was all fruitless, for no single word he uttered could be heard in this vision. The orange-haired man stopped, visibly nervous. Yahiko trembled slightly as he double-checked his combat outfit. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by fear and doubt.
…
Past
It was only a matter of a few moments before he closed the gap between them.
"Ready?" Nagato asked, trying his best not to show his ever-rising anger.
"Hardly," Yahiko replied, sighing heavily. "But… I doubt I can do anything to change that. I won't be much readier than this," he mumbled, then flashed an apologising smile.
"If you want, I can go alone?" Nagato offered, checking his equipment instinctively.
"Konan is also my friend," the orange-haired man protested, straightening up. "I won't be able to look at my reflection in the mirror if I don't go," he added, fear tainted his tone.
"She is far more than a friend to you, Yahiko," Nagato thought. "You are Akatsuki's leader," he said. "As your advisor and friend, I do not think it is a good idea for you to go. If Konan were here, she would tell you the same. Your dream must be preserved, even if it means Konan and I must pay for it with our lives."
"Please, stop this, Nagato!" the leader said, trembling. "My life's worth as much as yours. I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself so I can run away."
"You will not change your mind no matter what I say. Is it the case?" Nagato asked, tired of this conversation already.
"I'm going with you," Yahiko decided, trying to sound confident.
"All right."
There was nothing more to add. With the conversation concluded, Nagato pushed past his friend, heading towards the exit. He wanted to shout at Yahiko for putting himself at risk. But simultaneously, he could understand his reasoning. That being said, this decision would undoubtedly make the mission far more challenging to pull off. He allowed himself to sigh heavily, trying to calm down.
…
Past
"Fall back!" Nagato yelled at his friends, firing at the nearest Hanzo's thug.
Despite the man's best efforts, the mission became an indescribable mess much sooner than he had expected. Fooled by the initial successes, the rescue team somehow forgot whom they were dealing with, mindlessly marching into a trap. Had Nagato been less paranoic, they would have died shortly after finding where Hanzo held Konan. With Yahiko completely preoccupied with untying their friend, he failed to notice a small gap appearing between the mirrors that the room's wall consisted of. Driven primarily by paranoia and instinct, Nagato opened fire at the slowly growing passage, shattering the glass immediately. Within these shards, the man could see millions of reflections of himself.
Nagato was of average height. As a boy, he was rather slender. But he bulked up throughout years of constant training and fighting, becoming muscular and athletic. His shoulder-length crimson-red hair had been typical in his family. It was a trait passed genetically, or so he was told. But there was something more about him, something genuinely horrifying – his eyes. Instead of a typical singular wide iris, he had a few thin and black ones. Moreover, these rings were surrounded by a light violet instead of white.
Not knowing why, it bothered him greatly. Still, as the time was hardly suitable for such reflections, he urged his friends to speed up. The longer they stayed here, the less probable they would be to get out alive.
A few moments later, Nagato's rifle clicked, loudly announcing that the mag ran out. Thankfully, the last bullet reached its target, spraying fresh blood over the walls. With the thug dead, he had a few precious seconds to reload as Konan and Yahiko retreated.
"There's more of them," Akatsuki's leader informed.
"How many?" Nagato asked, mechanically checking the ammunition.
"We don't have that much ammo to take them all," the orange-haired man said. "We need to get out," he added as some bullets pierced through the plaster. "But… I doubt we can with all of them firing at us!" he complained.
"Then, leave me; I will slow them down as long as possible," the crimson-haired man said without hesitation.
"I won't leave you here to die!" Akatsuki's leader nearly yelled at his friend, furious. "Cover us till we get some cover, then we switch roles. If we keep working together, we're going to be fine," he tried to convince the others, but his nervousness contradicted his words.
"Fine," Nagato huffed, too tired to fight with Yahiko. "Go; I will cover you," he said, glancing at Konan.
The blue-haired woman returned the gesture, horrified with what she found in these unique orbs. But not to worry the orange-haired man, she remained silent. Yet, the wordless exchange between her and Nagato was far from pleasant. The crimson-haired man's cold glare could be translated to - if we do as he says, we will all die. It was a brutal truth that neither of them wanted to share with Yahiko. Hence, they decided to play along, at least for now. Still, Konan was certain Nagato would be the first to sacrifice himself if the need arose willingly.
Nevertheless, it was hardly time to think through all of this, as a mere moment later, she ran as fast as she could, trying to reach the nearest cover before a stray bullet found her. Even though the blue-haired woman was stressed and tired, her breathing remained regular. Once completely hidden behind the surface, she gave herself a few moments to check the submachine gun she had picked from one of the dead. Deeming everything in order, she put back the mag, then peeked from the cover, providing covering fire. Three short burst series bought the crimson-haired man enough time to pull back. However, it was hardly a victory as more and more mercenaries entered the room, outgunning them easily.
A moment later, Nagato threw the remaining fragmented grenades toward the massed group, wordlessly urging his comrades to run freely as soon as they exploded. Once the moment arose, he pulled the orange-haired man by his elbow, dragging him toward the corridor's exit. Still, the quick thinking only bought them a few precious seconds that elapsed far too quickly. Despite the havoc the explosions wrought, it was all too little too late. Even though the violet-eyed man could hear the cries of the wounded and whimpers of dying, it did not prevent the remaining thugs from reopening fire. One of these stray bullets clipped his left leg. It was barely a scratch, but it slowed him down significantly. With gritted teeth, he pushed forward, reaching the next cover, fighting against the fiery sensation silently.
"You got hit?" the navy-haired woman asked, but it was more so of a rhetorical type.
"Clipped," Nagato quietly hissed.
"Can you walk?" the orange-haired man asked, worried.
"No need to worry about me," the violet-haired man replied, staring at Konan, seeking help.
"Then, let's go," Yahiko said, his face twisted with fear. "These guys will be here soon."
"Yahiko," Konan whispered, touching the leader's shoulder. "I think Nagato want us to leave him here," she continued quietly.
"That's not an option!" the orange-haired man said somewhat confidently. "Get up; we're so close!"
…
Past
It was all lies. No matter how much Yakiho tried to convince his friends, the exit was far beyond their reach. The whole sequence of events seemed like a twisted game thought out by Hanzo. The Yakuza toyed with them, allowing their suffering to continue. Had he wanted, they all would have been long dead, yet the man found it amusing to spectate the trio being chased. Hence, the Yakuza sent only a handful of his henchmen, carelessly replacing each fallen one with two more.
It was a game the trio had no chance of winning. Outnumbered and outgunned, they slowly tired out and ran out of ammunition. To make the matter worse, with each room they crossed, they paid the price in blood. As time passed, the wounds they received became more and more severe, significantly reducing their combat value. Like Nagato had thought, refusal to sacrifice led them astray.
Hanzo's amusement was apparently running out. At some point, the Akatsuki members started to get attacked from more than one front. Given their weakened state, the sudden change was hardly welcomed, as it put additional strain on the trio.
When Yahiko opened the door to a room filled entirely with wooden tables, a welcoming committee opened fire. With no time to react, some of these shots found their target, clipping Konan's left arm, Nagato's side, and Yahiko's neck. Driven by sheer frustration and ever-growing hatred, the violet-haired man pushed forward, dealing with the three thugs quite quickly. As the fresh blood started soaking in the thick green carpet, the man fell to his knees, exhausted.
"Nagato!" Konan's voice was filled with dread and helplessness. "Yahiko got hit badly!"
Despite everything the crimson-haired man had gone through, he stood up, heading toward his friends on his trembling legs. A glance was enough for him to say it looked terrible. The orange-haired man's neck left side was torn aside, bleeding heavily. He was currently held by the navy-haired woman who tried her best not to tear up. Still, her effort turned out fruitless, as her eyes turned glassy as she watched her lover slowly dying. Alongside the fatal neck wound, many more covered his chest and abdomen.
"Why have you not listened?!" Nagato asked, exhaustion making his voice colder than he intended. "You could have simply left me behind, buying yourself a future!" he yelled, feeling his eyes tearing. "You had a wonderful dream!"
"I know…" Yahiko said weakly. "But… I'm ready to forsake it… if you survive and live your life to its fullest," he added, choking on his own blood. "Konan… Nagato, go… it's too late for me. The only thing I can still do… is buy you time," he mumbled, somehow standing up.
"I should have been the one dying today," the crimson-haired man whispered.
"No… you must survive and lead the rest," the orange-haired man whispered back, slowly heading toward the door they recently entered. "You've always been the best of us. I hope… your strength will be enough to bring our dream to life," he added, reopening the entrance.
"You're the leader!" the violet-eyed man huffed.
"Come!" the blue-haired woman cried out, forcefully pulling Nagato towards the second exit.
…
Past
"Konan?" the crimson-haired man gasped, waking up.
He lay on a hospital bed, wired with numerous pieces of technology he could not name. The man realised that the sheets wrapped around his body were stained with red, his blood. Still severely weakened, Nagato tried to look around. After all, he did not know where he was.
"Nagato!" a muffled cry sounded after moments of painful silence. "I'm so relieved you woke up," the blue-haired woman's voice continued, followed by heavy footsteps.
"How long was I out?" the violet-eyed man asked, speculating he would not like the answer.
"Five days," Konan replied, finally appearing in Nagato's sight. "The doctors didn't give you much chance of waking up after all we went through," she added, allowing her voice to be tainted with sadness.
"Everything hurts," the man complained. "What happened after you dragged me out of that room?" he asked, not remembering a thing after his friend's sacrifice.
"We made it to the surface," the blue-haired woman said, hesitant. "But… before we could drive away, someone threw explosives at us. If not for your reflex, I'd have been dead. But… you paid the price for it. Your legs are in critical condition. The doctors aren't certain whether the amputation will be required," she explained.
Even though Nagato's movement range was severely restricted, he forced himself to look closely at Konan. Her skin was flawless as ever; all cuts were masterfully stitched or covered. Given that five days had already elapsed, it was expected effect. Yet, her hair was messy and entangled. Focusing on the woman's face, he momentarily noticed the dark bags under her eyes, smudged make-up, and caked traces of tears. The conclusion was formed easily – Konan had spent these past few days lamenting. Perhaps, she even slept here, awaiting a miracle.
"I will make it through," the crimson-haired man said confidently. "Even though the dreamer died, his dream will live on," he added, allowing his exhaustion to send him toward Morpheus's realm.
Author's notes section:
[2023-07-10]: Hey, here is a preview of the story's next chapter. Please, bear in mind that it is, as mentioned, a preview. Some parts of it might not be included in the final release. I will try to finish this chapter as soon as possible. I would like to clean up some of the tasks in my schedule, and right now, there are many chapters queued there.
[2023-07-12]: Hey, I have a minor update for you.
[2023-07-18]: Hey, I have a major update for you. I am posting it because don't seem capable of concluding the piece. I am 100% certain what I added today will require some adjustments, but I wanted to show what I worked on the past few days.
[2023-07-19]: Hey, I have finished the chapter, at least in the terms of plot. However, as I said earlier, I think this piece will require some additional work.
Don't forget to comment. I really appreciate your feedback.
Note that the dialogues written in italic are thoughts.
As always, I would like to thank you for everything. See you soon :)
Changelog:
[2023-07-10]: A preview has been released.
[2023-07-12]: A minor update applied, focused on expanding the piece, and shaping the setting.
[2023-07-18]: A major update applied, focused on enriching the story - will require adjustments.
[2023-07-19]: A major update applied, focused on concluding the piece plot line - will require adjustments.
Info: I have included more stories in the schedule as I'm not 100% certain what I want to write next. Please, keep in mind that I might add or remove positions from the list. I might rewrite some of the older stories or extract some of the longer stories from `The story of one lost soul`.
Schedule:
- Exiled you say? (finish the WIP)
- Life is full of surprises (finish the WIP)
- The shadows can be deceiving (new chapter)
- Until my last breath (new chapter)
- Hidden in the mountain's shadow (new chapter)
- The war call (new chapter)
- The rise of the Blood Moons' servants (new chapter)
- Black Diamond (new chapter)
- When the clock is ticking (Warhammer 40k new story)
- Sometimes it's just better not to know (new chapter)
- My home is where my heart lies (rewrite chapter 4)
- The heart not so cold (rewrite chapter 2)
- The family tree (revisit the previous chapters and apply adjustments)
- Will you look past my mistakes? (new chapter)
- The silence of the shackles (new chapter)
- The broken heart (new chapter)
- The Prisoner of Your Eyes (new chapter)
- Lifetime of war (new chapter)
- Hope is the last one to die (new story in SW universe)
- See the world through my eyes (new chapter)
Bonuses' section:
A new story taking place in the Warhammer 40k universe.
Story of one lost soul: The war call: rewrite.
An entirely new story (possibly Akali x [Irelia, Syndra, Katarina]).
A new short story (Vi x Cait).
An entirely original story (possibly even two stories, one taking place in medieval times, the other in the far future)
Bleach story. (Byakuya x Yoruichi / ?)
Naruto story. (Neji x Hinata / Neji x TenTen / Nagato x Konan)
Fairy Tail story. (most likely Erza x Mira)
Maybe some Star Wars?
References:
- Iron Maiden - Empire of the clouds
*bonuses will be worked on when I don't feel like writing the chapters pointed out in the schedule :D
End of the author's notes section.