Warnings: None?

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto and affiliated companies do.

A/N: Bit short, but what can you do?

Chapter 6

"Well, shit," I said honestly. That about summed up the situation.

Ibiki grimaced. "I'll deal with it," he dismissed brusquely. "Let's go."

He grabbed my arm and began frog-marching me to the door.

"Wait- what?" I protested, digging my feet in. "Hold up! What am I supposed to say? We haven't figured out what we're-"

"I am going clean up your goddamn mess. You, on the other hand, are gonna keep your head down and your mouth shut."

Excuse me?! Fuming, I opened my mouth to spit back a reply, but (wait-don't-no rash actions lead to (mistakes -more problems-chaos-regret)! Stop-think first) at the last moment thought better and gritted my teeth instead. Yes sir, I conceded bitterly, injecting the thought with so much venom it was practically dripping. On the outside, my expression returned to stiff-necked neutrality.

Orders were orders, I justified to myself. Orders were absolute.

Ibiki flicked the soundproofing back off, then glanced back at me. He smirked.

"Oh, and one more thing-"

C-RUNCH!

Reeling back, I doubled over, blood streaming from my nose as it sent deep, throbbing bursts of pain through my face and neck. My wrists strained to break free of their bonds.

"F-fuck!" I choked, and snapped my head up to narrow watery eyes at Ibiki, who stood impassive, as though he hadn't just broken my fucking nose. (What-why-hurts-broken-mirror?-why? WHY, FUCK YOU?!)

"The fuck was that?!"

Part of me knew there would be a reason. Ibiki wasn't the sort to do things for no reason. (Right? RIGHT?-calculated wrong?-NO-possible-reasons?-none-none-none-can't think-hurts)

The other part of me bared my teeth and snarled, gutturally, like a wild animal.

Ibiki's lip curled. "Every person in that room has decades of experience on you, girl. Your acting is shit."

Indignation flared- but what if it's true? What if my overconfidence had just thrown us all in jeopardy?

Suddenly, I felt very small.

"…Sir," I said dully, letting my head hang so I could hide behind my fringe.

…

"Ah, Ibiki," the Hokage repeated blithely, as I was lead back into his office. He made no comment about the blood that had spilled past the corner of my mouth and was trailing red down my neck. My split lip stung, and I kept my eyes on the floor. "No problems, I take it?"

There was a line of deep scratches on the brown tiles, where some long forgotten altercation had forever marred the floor. I wanted to mimic them on Ibiki's face.

"The prisoner's had a change of heart," the scarred man drawled.

He'd broken my nose. He'd fucking broken my nose. It was broken and would never, ever be the same. What excuse was there for that? (There's no fucking excuse!) Ibiki was power-leader-older-authority- but was that an excuse? Was this his right? To hurt-to harm-to main-to decide-to be judge-jury-executioner? What was I supposed to do here?

The familiar line of questioning calmed me, let me sink into apathy again. Chased out the hurt. This was an objective situation. Patience, logic, and coopera- no. Patience and logic.

The question, I identified confidently, was not what I was supposed to do- rather, what could I do? Which combination of actions would result in the achievement of my goal?

Goal: HOME

(Home-safety-love-embrace-peace-warm-soft-safe-safe-safe-)

Possibilities:

One: stay silent, no matter what; and-

I became stuck. There were too many possibilities. Too much, too much- The circumstances could change in an instant. How could I possibly hope to identify every possible path the future could take? Just the idea of wrapping my head around that infinite web of POSSIBLE had my eyes glazing with dizziness.

Can't-cannot think-think-think-

I thought. Two; I needed to organise my thoughts. Two: wait-possibly speak-possibly not-must analyse-need more data.

"Has she indeed?" The Hokage was talking again. He peered at me over his desk, but now instead of comforting me, it just made me sick. I wanted to vomit for real.

God, I'd been such a fool, I thought bitterly, seeing this whole world through rose-coloured glasses. Konoha was a military village – I'd known this – and every person in this room, seen and unseen, was a trained killer.

Except me. Me and my fucking broken nose.

If only…

(Something snapped.

"She is in the room," I crooned with mocking sweetness, stepping right up to the desk. I looked him straight in the eyes, feeling the fierce thrill of freedom. "She is a person, with a name, and fucking human rights. She knows exactly when you're going to die, and how, and by who. She is fucking pissed-")

In my head, I was everything I'd ever wanted to be.

In reality, my jaw twitched, and the calluses on Ibiki's fingers sent shivers of a terror and disgust down my spine. I didn't move. I didn't make a sound.

"What can you tell me, my dear?"

Briefly, I thought about lying, about saying anything, anything at all. Whatever it took to get out of this hellhole. Whatever it took.

I could do it.

But… "There's a lot I don't know," I began quietly. "I read… alternate versions of the story, written by… fans. What I do know… is mostly conjecture, a mixture of… correlation between stories, and articles… from an outside source." If Narutopedia could be called that. "Images, character profiles, mission summaries… etcetera."

I thought about what I wanted to say. What was relevant, what was important, what was accurate.

There's a storm comin', 'arry.

The thought brought a smile to my lips, twisted, sarcastic, dangling over the edge of deranged.

Oh, indeed.

"There's going to be an invasion during the Chunin Exams," I said, still smiling. Why had I ever been angry? This was funny. This was fucking hilarious. The Hokage looked alarmed, and I wanted to laugh.

"You're going to die."

A/N: Read and review! =)