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[Mar. 26th, 2015|04:50 am]

namiashi_raidou
Kurenai had said roughly the same thing — I should tell you, Namiashi-taichou, that the members of your team I interviewed have full confidence in you. — and it had felt like getting stabbed with warm ice. But coming from a standard-level Intel agent, no matter how talented or sympathetic she might have been, it hadn’t held much weight against the mountain of his sins.

Repeated by Shibata, it almost felt like something he could believe.

“That surprises you?” Shibata asked him.

“From Hatake it does,” Raidou said. “From the others, it helps.”

“Hatake’s loyalty — and Shiranui’s, Tousaki’s, and Ueno’s — isn’t lightly earned, captain. Let that rest in your mind. It certainly made an impression in mine.”

The head of T&I just gave me another pep-talk.

He’d also said ‘captain’.

Shibata was like an entire fleet of Uchiha police compressed into one man: there was enough room for good cops, bad cops, and all the grubby shades in between. Plus a clan's worth of sly manipulation.

“A good impression,” Shibata continued, delicately refilling Raidou’s teacup and offering it back to him. “Try to remember that in the coming days. Both my impression, and your team’s faith in you.”

Because the coming days were going to be trench warfare.

Raidou wrapped his hands around the cup, cradling the tiny pilot light of warmth between scarred palms, and felt his mouth pull sideways. Something like a smile, if you traded sickle edges for humor.

He'd done real trenches. If they weren't going to hang him, weren't even going to skin the tattoo off him, then a bloodless, bureaucratic fight didn't hold much terror.

"Yes, sir," he said, and met Shibata's gaze. "Thank you, sir."

Shibata’s good eye turned hooded and pleased. He settled back in his chair, sipping his tea. “I think I’ve gotten everything I needed from you. I have a little more time blocked off. Is there anything you want to ask me, before I dismiss you?”

“When can I talk to my team again?” Raidou said.

“When there’s been a determination in your case,” Shibata said opaquely. “Anything else?”

What am I supposed to do in the meantime?

That wasn’t a question for Shibata — if only because he’d answer it and the results would sting. Raidou set his cup carefully aside. “No, sir,” he said. “I appreciate your time. I’ll wait to hear from your genjutsu instructor, and the trauma counsellor.”

“In that case…” Shibata put down his tea and stood. He still moved with the fluid grace of a shinobi in peak fitness. “I’ll hand you back over to Nene-san. She’ll help you find your way back to the lobby. It was a pleasure to meet you, Namiashi Raidou.”

Raidou hastened to his feet and bowed.

“It was—” Honesty. “Mostly terrifying, sir.”

Shibata’s ruined mouth curved, and he tilted his head. At Raidou’s back, the door opened soundlessly and Nene’s smart little heels clicked on the floor.

“Namiashi-san,” she said expectantly.

How had she—? Of course the room was monitored. It was T&I.

Raidou bowed again, feeling the back of his neck heat with acute embarrassment, and turned to follow Nene out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

The journey back up to the reception was a temporal blur of disbelief and occasional cringing, as he remembered saying things like There was also some head trauma involved. Nene turned around when they reached the main desk and said cheerfully, “You survived! Well done. Would you like another banana?”

Raidou blinked down at her. “I — think I’m set for fruit.”

“Your choice,” she said. “I have an outtake sheet for you to sign — thumbprint is fine, thank you — and an aftercare pamphlet.” She handed him a slim booklet. “I’ll be in touch regarding your follow up appointment. Feel free to sit if you’d like to take a moment before you leave.”

Raidou shook his head firmly. “I need to get going, but thanks,” he said, and made his escape before additional tea, mints, or a fruit bowl could be thrown at him. He passed an exceptionally pale young woman in a chuunin vest on his way out, and offered her an encouraging smile. She stared right through him. Her lips were chapped and bitten raw.

It wasn’t just his bad day, then.

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