Nagato knew pain so well because he had experienced it since birth. Wondering endlessly what could have been the event that had unleashed it so unstoppable and upsetting within him, he tried to go back further and further with his memory, ending up coming to the conclusion that most likely he was born that way, with pain to be part of his genetic heritage. Every gesture and thought of him, in fact, had always been overshadowed by that veil that she seemed to have constantly in front of his eyes and heart.

There was a three year age difference between him and Yahiko who was the eldest, neither of them knew their respective fathers. His mother, at each meeting, had been certain that she had found the love of her life, only to quickly come into conflict with the new partner and end the relationship just as stormy. She had hooked up with several men while he and Yahiko were still children always to end up the same way.

Nagato, who was anything but stupid, had guessed that this depended on her mother since her relationships, even with different people, always followed the same process.

What's wrong with my mother? Maybe this flaw passed it on to me too.

Yes, because he had felt undeserving of attention and love more or less from birth. He had fleeting and fragmented memories of him when he still hadn't learned to walk. His mother took him in her arms, he, like all children of that age, enjoyed this type of contact very much, however something inside him had already begun to tell him that he was not worthy of it.

Yahiko can afford it, I can't.

A few times his mother called him while he was playing with his older brother honey she said, or love. Nagato hadn't even turned around, not because he was deaf, but because he believed those beautiful words were addressed to Yahiko rather than him, he took it for granted.

Ah, I thought you wanted Yahiko then justified herself to his mother.

Growing up Yahiko had become more and more beautiful and sexy. Already at fifteen he did everything he wanted without fear, obtaining success in everything he touched and with whomever he established both friendship and sentimental relationships. This helped to make him more and more self-confident, he had begun to make his body a temple of beauty so as to decorate it practically everywhere with piercings, even on his arms, on his abdomen and on his chest. He had eight on his face alone and an industrial amount on his ears, yet their arrangement seemed so perfect that he looked almost silly looking at the photos in which he still didn't have any.

The more confident Yahiko became, the more Nagato withdrew into himself. The minor had started combing his hair so that it hid half of his face, leaving only his right eye and part of his chin visible. He couldn't even appreciate his beautiful eyes with those rare purple reflections.

Yahiko has them identical, but on him they donate while they look terrible on me.

Nagato began to dislike himself finding himself ugly, not only comparing himself to his brother but most people as well. As he looked in the mirror flaws seemed to be popping up everywhere. The arms too long, the hands too big, the legs too short, the knee with an awful shape…

Maybe I should get in shape.

Too bad that this thought had then translated into a progressive but inexorable refusal of food. He wore clothes at least three sizes larger than necessary in order to hide that body that he was too ashamed of even thinking about it. He dragged on like this for a year until a sentimental disappointment ended up sinking him even further down.

A boy he had literally lost his head for had deluded him for a while only because his girlfriend, Laetitia, left him. He was actually heterosexual but he had refrained from telling Nagato, he had used it to have some fun making a new experience and then snap to attention once Laetitia had contacted him to make peace. That was the first time Nagato was completely and utterly absorbed in anything.

The boy she was with once, passing in front of a street, had said: "Laetitia lives there" without however communicating to Nagato neither the building nor the number.

The redhead had never forgotten this sentence so one day, determined to know what Laetitia had more than him, he literally walked that street inch by inch to find out where the girl lived. Once he knew, he spent his days sitting on a bench watching people come in and out of that building until he saw a girl who could fit the description he had heard from his Laetitia ex him.

Yes, because he was with me but always talked about her.

Nagato spent days, even months, following her and watching her as she strolled downtown with her friends. He started moving like her, using her way of speaking and even her tone of voice.

I don't have to be like Letizia, but I really have to be Laetitia. I have to become her.

He was dying to discover that all this instead of bringing his ex closer, he caused him to give a hearty laugh in his face saying: "I have the impression that you are trying to become a bad copy of a certain person."

He hasn't seen him since that day, but this failure made Nagato's already full-blown eating disorders terribly worsen. He began to binge all day continuously and then give up his stomach and start over soon after. The obsession with Laetitia, in his mind, was replaced by that of food. However, every fixation that he went through always had the behavior of a flash in the pan, a great racket that absorbed all his energies and then suddenly ran out. Nagato started dozens of things without ever completing any of them, so much so that in the end both Yahiko and his mother ended up not considering his constant crushes anymore.

Having a passion for something is painful, that's why I can never hold on for more than that.

"You go looking for the difficulties" Yahiko had told him one day, puffing seeing him in the throes of yet another crying fit "There are people who have real problems, instead you go create them with your own hands. "

Is my pain worth less than that of others? Yet I feel it hurts so it means it exists.

And so, when he cried because of yet another failure, everyone avoided him instead of trying to console him.

He had enrolled in philosophy perhaps also to get answers, to finally try to learn how to manage pain, his family had not been able to give him the right tools, he had none of friends. Since he couldn't continue to drown the pain in alcohol because it always resurfaced and moreover with an uglier face than before, he thought that this could be the right way to find solutions. At that time his eating disorders, although not completely gone, had subsided to the level where he could lead a normal life. Every now and then he felt the need to chew on some crap soaked in chocolate and then get rid of it immediately after in a handkerchief, but still he ended there.

Seeing Itachi for the first time, Nagato had immediately noticed that cry of pain welling from his eyes. He was drawn to her ruthlessly.

Perhaps another person who knows pain, the real one, the devastating and unmanageable one and not just the physical one, will finally be able to fully understand me without claiming that my suffering is only imaginary.

He did his utmost in a thousand ways to make that dark, as fascinating as sad, understand how important it was to soothe the torment of others, hoping that Itachi, once he understood the importance of this, was able to finally find the key to silence the his pain.

Nagato had struggled for years to understand what afflicted Itachi so much. It wasn't about his physical ailments, however Nagato had understood this since the first day in which he had seen him in that canteen eating less and less and more and more slowly.

It had taken three years of acquaintance before Itachi decided to reveal to Nagato that event that would mark his life forever. Redhaired occasionally managed to catch something between the lines of the mystery novel of the dark haired's life.

Itachi's self-restraint, honed out of necessity towards his younger brother, usually succeeded admirably in keeping those storm clouds at bay that tore the sky of his soul. However, sometimes, some lightning more powerful than expected could be visible outside, unexpected for everyone. Just this unpredictability had ended up always alienating everyone, except Nagato. Instead, red would have liked to understand what the origin of that storm was.

It all started on a beautiful Sunday in early summer. The Uchiha family was in the country villa that they used exclusively to spend the weekends from March to the beginning of September, escaping from city stress. Itachi had wondered countless times why tragedies always have to happen on beautiful summer or spring days with nothing to predict them, if they happened on gloomy rainy winter days when the sun is capable of not peeping out even for a whole month, perhaps the soul could find itself in a certain sense ready and use the right tools to face them a little more lucidly.

At the time Itachi was thirteen while Sasuke was just eight. The eldest had always had a quiet and thoughtful disposition, he loved to watch spring blossom every year, he would lie on the wildflower meadows for eternity relaxing in the warmth.

He took that earthquake of his little brother by the hand, much more lively and curious, teaching him what he knew about plants, animals and seasons. Sasuke listened to him with big eyes full of admiration, a gesture which then always ended with a hug and a joyful laugh from the little one.

Itachi's physical problems had begun to be evident, however his parents involved him in every activity that any healthy thirteen year old would have done so as not to make him feel too different from his peers and not to make the matter known to Sasuke, at least for the moment.

"How about I let you try driving the tractor afterwards?" Fugaku had proposed one day while they were having lunch referring to the small crawler that the family owned.

Sasuke had literally jumped on his chair dragged by enthusiasm, while Itachi looked for consent on his mother's serene face that he nodded smiling.

"Itachi starts first, you Sasuke are small and the crawler levers are hard, you'll try it later with me."

The younger had calmed down sitting down again, it was as if he had by now got used to growing up in the shadow of his older brother. Sasuke often wondered if this was actually due to their age difference or if Itachi was special for some other reason in his father's eyes.

Even Mikoto had come down to attend that important stage in the growth of their children, she was waiting with them for her husband to bring the crawler into the backyard, Sasuke had resumed hopping with red cheeks as he watched his father approach.

"Otouto, be very careful because it will be your turn later" Itachi had kissed his head understanding his need to feel special too, he was trying to give him what his father seemed to be lacking.

Fugaku had turned off the vehicle starting to explain to his children how it worked, however everyone had noticed how his attention and his gaze were directed exclusively to his eldest son. How the engine started, the way to give and take off the gas and how to steer. Itachi was following everything carefully while Sasuke had opened his small mouth having almost immediately lost his way. The major, realizing this immediately, had smiled sympathetically in the direction of his Otouto stroking his hair.

"Itachi, remember the main feature of work vehicles, they are not like cars that stop as soon as you lift your foot off the gas, they do not have safety devices that make them stop instantly. The only way is to disengage the clutch, the biggest lever in front of you on the left, all clear?" Fugaku gave the last recommendations to the eldest son who at that moment was climbing on the track to get on.

Itachi waited until he was in the driver's seat before nodding towards his father and smiling at Sasuke who was staring at him in ecstasy. He started the engine by sinking the gas, he wanted to show his little brother that he wasn't afraid since there was nothing difficult.

This is the spirit with which you will always face life, Otouto.

He engaged the clutch by sinking it forward, he needed all the strength his thin thirteen-year-old arms had, he realized it was really hard but he couldn't hold back in front of his father and little brother. The tractor set off with its distinctive creak that was even louder than the engine itself. Itachi smiled to let Sasuke understand that he too could succeed, he tried to show him a swerve without success, even the levers to do this were damn hard.

I should have given it a try before leaving, I didn't think about it.

"Okay Itachi, that's enough, don't get too close to the wall of the house or it will become difficult to maneuver, I see you learn quickly as always."

Itachi grabbed the big clutch lever.

This time I have to pull, not push.

That day he realized how much these verbs described two similar actions only in appearance, but in reality very different. He understood that pushing was much easier than pulling, in the first action you could exploit the weight of the body while not in the second and that lever was too tenacious to be moved only by the strength of his muscles.

Itachi stop, that's enough!

The father approached the nose of the tractor trying to grab the clutch himself. Itachi gripped the damned lever with both hands, though his gaze didn't betray the anxiety he'd begun to feel, Sasuke had noticed the glint of sweat on his forehead.

Stop, damn it, pull that lever!

Itachi desperately tried to stamp his feet on the brakes hoping it would help, his father hadn't thought to tell him that in crawlers they are only used to steer. The tractor was so close to the wall of the house that by now the sound of the engine and the tracks was reverberating over it; Mikoto's wide eyes leaning against the wall with no way out. On one side her husband involuntarily blocked her way while on the other there was a large hedge of hawthorn, the woman had always adored the small candid flowers with which she covered herself in early spring. The whole family had always loved that time when nature awakens after winter hibernation.

Nii-san!

The tractor gave a sudden jolt, a second immediately after before inevitably stopping against the outside wall of the house. Itachi's shocked eyes managed to absentmindedly register fragments of the white plaster ending up on the orange bonnet that vibrated shaken by the roar of the engine, now he was working hard not understanding what was to prevent him from his inexorably straight march.

Niiii – saaaan!

Sasuke had fallen on his knees with his hands on his face crying desperately, Itachi to run to him, had had to jump directly from the seat on the ground, he certainly couldn't put his feet on those tracks which were now spinning in circles, skidding on the ground. He just had time to cover Sasuke's eyes with a hand before picking him up to run away, the goal wasn't important as long as it was as far away as possible. He stopped in front of the entrance to the house, placed Sasuke on the ground who was looking at him with those big eyes from which tears flowed like two rivers in flood, he was looking for an answer from the major's face, a reassurance that he now wasn't able to give him.

Nii-san, tell me it's not true!

They weren't far enough away to drown out the rumble of the engine still running, with the amount of gas he'd decided to impose on them.

I feel it, I can't tell you it doesn't exist, Otouto.

Itachi looked around with his eyes lost in the sun and in the endless blue of the sky, his head became empty and light, his body seemed to disappear starting from his hands. The only images that remained clear to him of that day were the tracks that skidded empty on the ground and the wall that was falling apart white on orange.

Sasuke was only eight years old, now he found himself alone with his brother's body finished to him like an ungainly sack of potatoes in front of his feet and those of his parents torn apart at the back of the house.

"Obito run, they're all dead!"

"Sasuke, is that you? How many times do I have to tell you the difference between funny jokes and bad jokes?"

Obito snorted annoyed lowering his eyes again on the literature book, in a few weeks he would have had to face an important test. The annoyance lasted only a few seconds, the desperate crying of his cousin on the other end of the phone made him understand that maybe it wasn't just a prank.

"Sasuke, try to calmly explain to me what happened." Obito had jumped up on the bed trying not to further alarm the boy with his tone.

"Mom, dad and Itachi...all dead" Sasuke formulated the words interrupted by sobs.

"Okay, tell me where you are."
The cousin was no longer able to utter a sentence, however Obito managed to hear the rumble of the tractor in the background under the desperation of the little one, thanks to this he understood that he was calling him from the house in the countryside.

"Who's driving the tractor, Sasuke?"

Maybe he was wrong, they weren't all dead, the boy had definitely misinterpreted something. Obito was alone at home, he was seventeen and didn't have a driving license yet, so before risking rushing there, he wanted to see clearly.

"The tractor is going alone, maybe he'll break through the house."

"Okay, pass me Itachi."

"He died!" Sasuke was overcome by despair crying his eyes out.

"I'll be right there, wait for me and don't move from there."

Arrived on the spot after about a quarter of an hour running like crazy and gripped by anguish, Obito found himself in front of a Sasuke slumped on the ground crying and an Itachi sitting curled up next to the wall with goggle-eyed, white as a corpse.

"Damn Itachi, will you explain to me what happened?" Obito shrugged the older one off his shoulders and yelled at him, but he looked like a wax statue.

The seventeen-year-old walked around behind the house, he was shaking, he had the impression that every step he took lasted at least ten minutes. His hands went to his mouth, the scream that he wanted to come out stopped instead at the level of his throat. Obito had to get closer since the wall was crumbling more and more and more and more consistent layers were detaching. He walked with his face turned away trying not to look, his left foot stepped on something, he didn't have the courage to lower his gaze while he repressed a retch. His fingers reached out blindly for him, looking for that ring connected to the tractor's stop solenoid valve. Middle and index passed inside, finally that infernal engine stopped.

Obito had to load both brothers into the car, take them back to the house where they were born. He and his parents had their work cut out explaining to Sasuke that it had been an accident as he punched his brother's body knocked out by elephantine doses of sedatives in bed.

A few months after the accident had happened to him, the two-year-old Shisui's family was left to take care of Sasuke and Itachi. However, even this solution ended abruptly when the father of the oldest surprised Itachi sitting on his son's lap, they were naked and were kissing each other. He literally smashed them both while screaming like crazy in front of the eyes of the now eleven-year-old Sasuke. Accusing Itachi of being a prostitute he dragged Shisui away slamming the door. Since then Itachi and Sasuke had to fend for themselves totally.

Itachi had let out a heartbreaking sigh as he finished telling all this to Nagato, they were both relaxed on a cloud of duvets at the redhead's house who had listened to him carefully without saying a word.

"The times I wake up at night moaning agitatedly it's because I'm dreaming of those tracks skidding empty on the ground. I could have acted, I didn't know the stop solenoid valve, it was the first time I had driven such a vehicle. However I could very well have sunk the gas at idle, the engine would have suffocated in itself trying to overcome the inertia of the tracks and shut down instantly. Panic prevented me from thinking straight and coming to this. That's why since that time my self-control has skyrocketed, I can never afford to lose my mind by getting carried away by emotions."

Nagato hugged him making him rest his head on his shoulder, he wanted the dark-haired man to understand that if he wanted to cry there would be no problems, however Itachi didn't do it, from that early summer day self-control had become an integral part of his person , as if its individual cells were made up of them.

Did Yahiko mean this when he talked to me about real pain and made-up pain, accusing me of going after them? Itachi's pain comes from an event that happened. Mine, on the other hand, does not seem to have a clear and precise origin. Perhaps it's easier to fix when you know the cause. Am I hopeless then? You have the right to suffer and I don't because your suffering started with an accident while mine was generated by the mind? I might as well have had a trigger event I just can't see it.

Pain is subjective, what hurts me so much could be stupid for you and vice versa, so it is necessary to understand that there is no pain that has less value than another and that everyone deserves the same respect.