The Fallen

The Fallen
Pairing: Jiraiya/Pein, Pein/Konan, Jiraiya/Pein/Konan; OMC/Pein and OMC/Konan for this chapter
Warning: This chapter contains non-consensual sex.

THE FALLEN ch.1

His body hits the muddy ground heavily, the dirty rainwater splashing around him. He can sense a rib breaking, but is too numb to feel pain anymore. The sky is weeping, the torrent falling from the heavens drenching everything. Pein’s eyes are unfocused but they can see the offending orange silhouette of his adversary stepping towards him. A hand fists in his bright ginger hair and pulls his face upwards, only for another punch to land brutally against his already swollen and bruised cheek. He can taste blood in his mouth, sharp salt and copper. After that blow he lands on his back and looks up at the blackened skies, as black and stormy as the day when his parents died.
“Look at me, you bastard!” someone growls and his hair is gripped again, his face pulled up so he can stare at a pair of furious crimson eyes. The Nine Tails jinchuuriki. This should have been a routine mission, he should’ve gotten hold of the boy and dragged him back to the headquarters to complete the ritual. He was a god, his power and wisdom infinite, the brat should’ve been easy prey… But he wasn’t. He, Pein, was defeated by that same runt, literally dragged through the mud.

“I’ll kill you!” growls the boy and raises his fist again, but suddenly a gloved fist closes over his wrist.

“Naruto! No! Tsunade-sama wanted them both alive and brought to Konoha!”

Pein blearily follows the line of the gripping hand up to a shoulder and then to a masked face and a shock silver hair. He has to wrack his dizzy mind for a moment for a name to stick to that face. Ah, yes. The Copy Nin, Hatake Kakashi.

“But he almost killed Ero-sennin!” argues the boy, voice rising with fury.

Still, he lowers his raised fist and glares down at Pein.

“You WILL pay for all that you have done, I swear!” and then stalks off.

Hatake looks down at him, mismatched eyes cold and merciless.

“Sakura.” He calls. A pink-haired girl appears from somewhere and looks at her superior questioningly.

“Get the collar” she nods and walks away, then returns with what appears to be a thin silver choker. Kakashi leans down and fastens it around Pein’s neck. Suddenly, there’s a veil pulled over his senses, dulling them, the access to his chakra cut off. The ginger-haired man jerks sharply in Hatake’s hands, panic rising within him, but he is cuffed across the face again.

“Stand still or I’ll crank it up and you won’t like that!” the man threatens. Pein’s heart is hammering in his chest as he frantically tries to reach for the power that burned within him all his life. It’s there, he can feel it, but there is an insurmountable barrier before it. That, combined with the shock of his defeat and the beating he took finally mercifully knock him out and the world goes dark.

When he comes to, he opens his eyes to pitch-black darkness. What? It takes him a few moments to remember what happened – the jinchuuriki, him and Konan being separated, the blonde defeating him soundly, the collar. The collar. His hands shoot up and his fingers fasten around the piece of metal, desperately trying to find the latch and remove it. He finds nothing, it’s a perfectly smooth circle fastened around his neck. Franticly, he grips it and starts pulling in a vicious attempt to break it and get it off, but it’s all in vain. He still can’t access his chakra, and it makes him feel just as helpless as he once was. Panic wells within him and he suppresses the urge to flail and scream. This cannot be happening to him. He’s beyond that now. He’s a god. ‘Are you really?’ asks a nasty little voice in his head. ‘Gods cannot be defeated, and here you are. Where are you, anyway?’

He pauses and looks around, but he still sees only blackness. Pein slowly gets onto his feet and raises his arms before himself, then walks forward until his outspread palms hit a moist stone-wall. Feelings its outline, he circles around the room. It’s a cell. Probably somewhere underground. The panic intensifies and he swallows a whimper. He will not show weakness.

‘Yup, helpless and locked up like an animal’ supplies the voice. ‘Some god you are.’

He slides down the wall and starts shaking, shock finally settling in, self doubts churning within him, but he firmly stomps on them. Konan. He must escape, wherever he is, get rid of that collar and find Konan. All doubts and fears are wiped away by the worry for her. Is she okay? Is she captured too, or did she manage to get away? His emotions haven’t been in such turmoil ever since his childhood and he hates it. He thought he had outgrown that, gotten beyond such simple human weaknesses.

Pein spends the next several hours exploring the boundaries of his cell through touch. It’s roughly four meters wide and about 5 meters long, a perfect damp stone box designed to keep in captured prey. There aren’t any cracks, neither between the stones nor between the door and the wall and he’s finally forced to admit that there’ll be no getting out of here while he’s locked inside.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he feels footsteps behind the heavy stone door. There are voices, several keys turning and it opens. Bright white light floods the space of the cell and he covers his stinging eyes and face with his hands with a pained moan.

The voices quiet down when his captors stare at his curled and dirty form.

“So this is the infamous Pein” says a cold female voice with barely suppressed rage.

Blinking furiously and squinting, he struggles to look at the newcomers. His eyes are slow to readjust to the brightness, but eventually he’s able to discern the form of the speaker – a tall blond woman with impressive bust and dark eyes. The Fifth Hokage, Tsunade-hime. This means he’s in Konoha. When did they manage to bring him here?

Turning to the woman, he slowly gets on his feet and raises his chin haughtily.

“Where is Konan?” asks Pein.

The woman just smiles tightly.

“We have her as well. Both of you have much to answer for.”

Pein bristles at her gall.

“How dare you speak to me like that!”

”Why shouldn’t I, Pein?” she spits out the name like it’s poison. Then a sly smile stretches those painted lips. “Oh, perhaps you still think you’re a god?” she mocks, expression condescending. “You’re nothing but a very human, and a very defeated criminal. Get that thought through your thick skull. I will show you no mercy, nor will the council.”

With that, she spins on her heel and leaves the cell, her cronies following close behind. The door closes with another screech, plunging the room into darkness again.

He’s absolutely infuriated at the nerve of that human, daring to treat him like that, white hot rage boiling within him.


In the darkness of the cell he has no way of measuring time, but he can tell that he’s been held in it for quite a while, days, perhaps even weeks. Meals, along with a cup of dirty water, come rarely through a small latch on the lower side of the door and they consist of low-quality overboiled rice, barely enough to sustain him and Pein knows that he’s losing weight. They give him no bucket to use for his bodily needs, so he forced to relieve himself in a corner of the stone room like an animal, humiliation burning in the pit of his stomach. The place, uncleaned for so long stinks terribly, but if they think that’s enough to break his spirit, they’re making a huge mistake.

Despite his resolve though, he can feel his pride chip away, little by little, along with his conviction in his own divinity. Was he a fool to believe in all that? But no, he must stay strong, he must wait for a suitable moment and escape, he must get to Konan. The image of her heart-shaped face helps him stay focused, as always.

Finally, after what appears to be weeks of isolation, the infernal door opens with yet another screech and he automatically covers his eyes to protect them from the glare of the lamps that his jailors carry. By that time, he’s far too weakened from hunger to get up, so two strong pairs of arms grab him and hoist him up. Squinting, he looks at the incredibly scarred and tanned face of the man that entered his little cell.

He’s looking at him coldly, hatred burning in his small dark eyes, jaw set with tension and what appears to be hatred.

“The council” he announces with a deep, gravely voice “has decided your fate, Nagato”

Pein blinks at him. How do they know his real name..? Of course, Jiraiya. He must’ve told them. Bitterness floods him at the memory of his old sensei.

The man glares at him, cold amusement filling those beady eyes. “Bring him” he orders and walks out of the cell. The two large thugs drag Pein out of the cell and through the corridors.

He’s exhausted, hungry and disoriented, not to mention that his eyes sting from the sudden bright light they’re forced to endure, but he manages to count that they’ve gone four floors up before they reach the surface.

It’s a bright, sunny day outside, and he quickly blinks in an effort to fully readjust his vision when something hard hits him across the face, leaving a scrape and a bruise. At first, he doesn’t realize what has just happened. Then, he hears the jeers. As his eyes finally adjust to the piercing day-light, Pein realizes he’s on one of the main streets of Konoha, surrounded by an infuriated crowd, the two ANBUs dragging him forward. The mob is shouting curses and insults, throwing whatever they have at him, rotten food, rocks, one girl gets close enough and spits in his face, making him jerk his head away in disgust.

Finally, they reach the central square and he notices a large wooden platform and what appears to be a table with shackles. Fear grips his heart in an icy hand. Do they intend to execute him now? He’s not afraid to die, that weakness has long been discarded, but he has so much work to do, he must realize his dream for a peaceful world!

The ANBUs drag him up on the stairs and turn him roughly to face the crowd. The jeers intensify. Suddenly, an elderly man walks up on the platform and raises his hands, asking for silence. Pein knows this person – Danzou, a Hokage candidate and a leader of what should be a now-defunct ANBU branch. The mob almost instantly quiets down, hundreds of angry faces looking up at him, waiting for the old man’s words.

When he speaks, his voice is surprisingly loud and deep.

“This… man” he spits out and points to the captive “was the leader of the Akatsuki. The organization that nearly destroyed ALL that we have fought for so long! He nearly destroyed who we are, he intended to destroy the world as we know it. Today, we have gathered here to bring justice!”

Despite the situation, Pein has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. The old fart is being melodramatic. They better just get down to business.

Suddenly, he hears an infuriated feminine yell and his heart sinks when he recognizes the voice. And here she is, dirty and her clothes torn up, vibrant blue hair down in dirty and mussed waves around her beautiful face. Konan. Her wide jade-green eyes immediately find his as she’s led on the podium. Danzou notices his worried expression and gives him a smug smile. Suddenly, Pein has the bad feeling that they are not about to execute them but have something else in store.

“This is how we shall make an example of how we deal with enemies like them!” screams the old man with finality.

Suddenly, a third ANBU appears and grips Pein’s tattered and dirty clothes and rips them away, leaving him naked as the day he was born before the hungry eyes of the mob. Shame and self-consciousness fill him and he can feel his face going almost as red as his hair. He’s so shocked that he doesn’t even make a move to struggle against the two large men holding him, but Konan isn’t as frozen as him. When the third nin approaches her, apparently intending to do to her the same thing he did to Pein, she jerks sharply in the hands of the guards who hold her, letting out an infuriated growl, sounding much like a enraged the cat. He backhands her and then tears off her clothes anyway and the crowd laughs wildly, catcalling at the both of them. The humiliation of the situation is white-hot and burns through his very soul. It is followed by rage though, at them for daring to treat his divine person in such a disrespectful way, for daring to do the same to his beloved Konan.

So he suddenly starts struggling, as much as his weakened body allows, kicking and growling and trying to bite his guards, they are too big, too strong, and without his chakra he’s as helpless as a newborn kitten. From the corner of his eye, he can see his partner following his example, trying to fight them off, but it’s all in vain because they’re both dragged to the table, made to bend over it facing each other and then their wrists are shackled to its surface. Konan’s face is only a hand away from his, her eyes filled with horror as she’s understood before him what they have planned for them. Finally, considering the pose he’s in and his nudity, it dawns on Pein what is about to happen.All emotions, all the rage and the shame and the indignation are replaced with horror. This cannot be happening. It is far too real, unfortunately, and he feels a sharp piercing pain in his behind when one of his guards forces himself into his defenseless body and begins to thrust roughly with a fast and brutal rhythm.

Konan’s face before his twists into a mask of agony and then she too starts rocking.

The crowd is laughing and jeering and catcalling again, and suddenly Pein realizes that he’s not a god. Things like that do not happen to gods. He is but a man, a defeated, helpless man, violated before a mob of his gleeful enemies, a man who cannot save the woman he loves from the same fate that she shares with him. That realization hurts much more than the physical violence visited upon his person and for the first time in so many years, Nagato can feel tears sliding down his face.

TBC…