The Heat

Mission:

It is another day in Kirigakure's penitentiary and intelligence agency. Stark white walls enclose a sparse prison and a buzzing network of intelligence offices. In some parts of those buildings, their purposes overlap. The interview rooms.

A dossier on what little information the village has been able to put together sits on the desk in front of Murata. Name, age, gender, physical dimensions, the vague specifics of arrest. This feels a little less like a genuine need for Murata's  specific abilities and more like... some kind of test. The intelligence facilities know full well of her abilities, and the fact that she could pick this person's mind apart like a pomegranate if allowed direct contact.

They sit directly across from one another, each at a table separated by the glass screen that bisects the room. The new facility is... interesting. Not what Murata had expected from the Bloody Mist. It is clean, fresh, and comfortable, but strikingly barren of natural light. The unnatural sting of fluorescence irritates her, and the white walls make it even worse. Murata's interviewee has been provided with a glass of water, she notes, and she wonders if she could get away with getting up to get one for herself now that they've already been seated. Their voices can carry perfectly across the barrier - likely some kind of seal built into the glass to eliminate the need to weaken it with holes.

Seals are such a fascinating art, one that she has precious little knowledge of. She has been told that the juinjutsu marking on her interviewee's throat will prevent them from using any techniques at all, a fact which both impresses and disturbs her.

Dressed in a warm grey coat, Murata has not arrived in any kind of visible shinobi attire... save arguably for the turtleneck underneath, evidence that Kirigakure's fashion sense has finally begun to infect her.

"Good evening," Murata greets her interviewee, voice cordial, thick with the accent of Wolf country. "My name is Murata Hinoki. I have been invited here to speak with you."

A borrowed name, a suggestion from her wolves. She would not be so disrespectful as to take any of their individual pack names, but as party to the Pact, she is more than welcome to don one that fits in with them whenever necessary. In this case, it is simply to avoid potential culture clash - lower the possibility that her interviewee will assume she is hiding something or being unprofessional if she only provides her single name.

In her interviewee's appearance, she tries to gather what her 'homework' did not tell her... then she turns away from the partition, just briefly. She calls to her fellows in the adjoining intelligence office, out of her interviewee's sight.

"...Ah, Yamanaka, do you think - could you grab me a glass of water?" she calls, expression apologetic. The  blond jonin in the adjacent office peeks into the room and raises an eyebrow. He certainly holds such rank over Murata to find such a request of him odd and disrespectful.

However... as a veteran of this department, he knows that Murata must appear to be in control of the situation. He gets over himself and goes to get her a glass of water.

"Thank you," she says to the burly blond gentleman as she accepts the glass, taking a sip before turning back to her interviewee. "I did not think of it, and now I see yours..." she says, a bit of amusement in her voice.

---

583

Your prisoner:

Surrounded by white walls that resembled the color of his hair Sakata would be awaiting his interrogation. "Guess I'm famous around these parts" he mumbled only for him to hear. The Silver Demon, which was the nickname he so despised, knew that whatever they wanted had to be worth it considering the marking around his throat in case he'd try to pull some funny business. "Almost as if I'm some kind of criminal. Oh wait.." A grin appeared on the man's face, seeing the humor in his own jokes. Not like anyone else was around to laugh at them. The glass of water in front of him, creating the impression they actually cared about the prisoners.

Sakata started to crack every single one of his fingers in an attempt to keep himself busy, only to notice someone finally showed up. "Lucky me", then softly rubbing the edge of the glass. He looked up, figuring the woman was sent to get as much information out of him as possible. "I wouldn't know, been a while since I've been outside" he smirked as reply to her introduction. "Well I'm sure you already have everything you need about me in there" Sakata would say while gazing at the dossier she carried with her. "But, for whatever it's worth, Sakata Hatake". Even though his sheet with crimes he committed would be endless, he never forgot about his manners.

Murata, as she so called herself moments ago, took her time before beginning the interrogation. Regardless of her attempt at covering it up as "coming to speak with him", Sakata knew all too well why she came to see him. The silver haired man wasn't a fool, although he allowed himself to get caught so perhaps he was one after all. "I doubt you're here to get this thing off my throat?" Mischievous as ever he then noticed the lady disappearing and moving out of his sight. "Aw, and here I thought my charms were working on her". The sound of his fingers cracking could be heard throughout the room as he started on the ones on his right hand, waiting for his interviewer to return.

And so she did, carrying her own glass of water .. "Aha, I knew I got you all thirsty!" Jokes aside, Sakata could notice the tone of her voice contained a touch of amusement, making him wonder whether it was simply an act or if she would actually be looking forward to the interrogation. "I suppose this is the part where you ask me some questions? However, water isn't really my thing. I like my drinks like my women, strong". Might as well have some fun while they were at it. If only it wasn't for those white walls .. 

(WC: 458)

Silver, pale. It is as though the white walls of this place have drained all color from her interviewee.

Sakata's crude flirtatiousness is interesting. Is it him trying to be intentionally offputting, or is he just like that? The constant cracking of his fingers has a similar effect - she sees the Yamanaka jonin cringing slightly at the noise as he steps back into the other office. Sakata's comments towards her evoke little reaction besides a small chuckle, Murata still appearing pleasant and professional.

"Words on paper have their limitations," she says, sounding slightly dismissive of the dossier. It lies closed on the table, presumably studied by Murata beforehand, but for the moment untouched. "They tell me facts, names, but not who you are."

It's the truth. With such little guidance, she can only approach this as herself. That is likely the point.

She crosses one leg over the other, studying him. She nods in understanding at his distaste for the seal. "Do you think it would be a good idea for me to remove it?" she says, that same tinge of amusement in her voice, eyebrows gently raised. A recognition of his potential for trouble, but in an almost playful, indulgent way. From his demeanor thus far, he seems like he may be the flippant type, one who might say anything for the singular purpose of getting a rise out of her. It will likely do her well not to reveal too much of what her priorities are, both as an interviewer and as a person.

---

256
TWC: 839

His eyes followed the woman's movements as she placed his dossier on the table. No matter how Sakata looked at it, the bundle of paper seemed rather filled. A sudden realization on how many crimes he already committed regardless of his still young age. Even though it remained closed, the man didn't need to think long about what would be in there. As often the case for criminals like him, Sakata remembered everything he'd done up til now. Year, month, day, not a single detail escaped his mind. Each and every single one of his crimes he treated almost as if they were a trophy. Was he proud? Perhaps. Would he do things the same way? No. What would he have done differently? Not getting caught.

"Well, you'd be the first wanting to know who I am. People look at the facts and only the facts, telling how they don't lie". After his statement was finished he simply shrugged, already having accepted his fate. To be fair, it wasn't like Sakata could expect a different treatment considering the things he'd done. The silver haired was still a criminal and not just any pocket thief. "Enough about me, why don't you tell me where's that accent coming from? I can hardly believe it's one custom around the Bloody Mist, it would also explain why you're so different than them". He wasn't exactly in the position to judge anyone, but he also wasn't going to miss an opportunity to throw some shade at Kirigakure.

A smile appeared on Sakata's face when Murata continued her amusing demeanor. "I know you can't wait to get your hands on me but let's get to know each other first, shall we?" Only a fool would believe they'd actually remove the seals around his throat. They knew all too well what the silver haired convict was capable of. "Besides, I'm sure you're more than able to think for yourself. I wouldn't have it any other way". Sakata remained calm, even playful. No use in getting himself worked up over another interrogation. "How's the water?" Taking a sip of his own water, placing the glass against his lips while staring deeply into her eyes.

(WC: 366, TWC: 824)

Ah, deflections. That's alright. The night is young. Ah... he's staring. Murata meets his gaze evenly, looking faintly bemused at the intensity of his glare and the drama of his sipping. She idly muses on the chances that he has pulled some 300 IQ scheme to poison her.

"The water's fine. I find it tastes a little strange here," she says, paying little mind to her own glass. "I hail from Wolf country. Onbinjuku region. Yourself?"

Most she has said this to have found it meaningless; knowing nothing of the country besides that, presumably, it contains wolves. She does not expect him to know much more, nor to care. If he is familiar, however, he will know her past lies in a place just as bloody as Kirigakure - a country deeply wounded by a decade-long civil war.

For her part, Murata is curious as to whether Sakata hails from Kirigakure himself. What culture had produced such a creature? Certainly it would not be shocking if his violence had been nurtured and grown by shinobi, who would of course then cry foul when the monster they've created slips away from their control. However, the way he says 'them' gives slight pause to that idea.

---

203
TWC: 1042

A smirk appeared on Sakata's face upon hearing where the woman was originally from. "Makes sense, I already figured you had a wild side" he said as he continued to take another sip of his water. How she interpreted that comment would be completely up to her as he left many possibilities open. "Hm? No, I'm afraid our good looks are the only thing we have in common", Sakata eliminated Murata's thoughts about sharing the same background, or did he? "Doesn't really matter where I'm from, I'm here now". The silver haired man wondered how much longer it would take before she'd cut to the chase. Not that he grew bored from all the talking, at this point everything was better than to spend his time sitting in his cell.

"Are you afraid of me? Do you despise me for the things I've done? Am I the monster they describe in those papers?" Twirling the glass of water between his fingers Sakata pointed at his dossier laying closed on the table. The seal around his throat disabled him from using any of his lethal techniques, ones he had used during many of his crimes in the past and were probably described in the files Murata carried with her when she walked in earlier. "Tell you what. You tell me something personal and I'll do the same, how about it? Unless you already want to leave .." Sakata finished his drink, figuring it was time to annoy the Yamanaka of who he knew was following their conversation. "Another one please, for the lady as well", raising his glass while the same smirk appeared on his face once more.

(WC: 276, TWC: 1100)

"I have not yet developed an opinion," Murata answers. "I think for myself, as you have said. I will make my conclusions based on the information you give me." She does not openly point out that he is being evasive - it is self evident, there is no need for her to be impatient or accusatory. From Murata's tone of voice and posture, it seems like she is very content to do this all day.

"I find this acceptable," Murata says in response to his suggestion of an exchange of information, seeming pleased at the deal.

"I have told you of my home. I would quite like to know where you come from. Of course, if that is not something you find interesting, you may ask me a specific question and I will answer sincerely," she says, taking another sip of her own water. "But that means I will ask a question of you in turn, and I ask that you be honest with me as well. Fair is fair."

The Yamanaka jonin reappears, placing a glass of water on Murata's side of the table. Murata slides it across the table, and it passes through the barrier with a faint shimmer for Sakata's drinking pleasure.

"Of course, fairness is a difficult thing to discuss under these circumstances," she says, gesturing around them. "But even in such a place as this, we both retain full control over what is in our heads, and that allows the possibility of equitable trade."

---

248
TWC: 1290

Sakata was pleased to hear Murata somewhat agreeing with his proposition. "So you don't consider Kirigakure your home?" Perhaps her choice of words was merely coincidental but the silver haired deemed it worth mentioning regardless. "Alright, since I'm enjoying your company I'll comply. I was born in the Land of Waves". The man didn't use her way of describing where he hailed from and for good reason. But that would be a story for another time. "Let's see, something interesting. Hm, how about this. Will you be visiting me again after my answers have satisfied you?" They could take things slow, or fast depending on what the woman with the accent preferred. 

By then the Yamanaka showed up, carrying the glass of water requested a couple of minutes ago. "I suppose you're not able to turn this into something stronger? Something tells me you also wouldn't mind that". Good company, a couple of drinks. What more could a man ask for? Ah yes, his freedom. Sakata had a feeling such request would be unnegotiable. Oh well. "Difficult, but not impossible. Although I feel the same way as you dear". Under different circumstances he'd be able to have a little more fun, which didn't mean he wasn't enjoying himself. Awaiting her response the prisoner took another sip from his water.

"Aaaah. Fine, fair is fair. It's your turn in our little game of Truth or Dare. What would my lovely Murata like to know?" The only thing missing was a snack, not counting the woman in front of him. 

(WC: 258, TWC: 1358)

"It is a home," she muses. "I have considered several places home." She may consider several more places home before her time in this world comes to an end. It would be best not to say that aloud, with their conversation being recorded - Kirigakure is known to have a hair trigger reaction to perceived disloyalty. She has no inclination to abandon her sworn duty to this village of her own volition - she simply looks with the long view of history. The villages have endured, in name, for centuries - but any particular iteration, especially in the past decades, is lucky to make it to five years.

The Land of Waves? How curious. A small, prosperous nation, ensconced in wealth and trade. One of those rare few able to game the shinobi system and hire outsiders to its own ends without becoming destabilized by missing-nin. Her own home was like that, once, in the more urban regions. But, well...

He continues, drawing her from that line of thought back into the moment. Is he seeking some further reward for cooperation?

"If that is what is required of me. My schedule is beholden to the village." Perhaps not a particularly revealing answer, but a sincere one. She would not like to encourage his strange overtures simple to acquire more information - it would be inappropriate and dishonest. Still, she has obligations besides those to the job. Her faith would look dimly upon a refusal to communicate with somebody so isolated, no matter his crimes. "I would have time to write," she considers aloud, likely earning raised eyebrows from the other room, "but I am sure you understand it would only be worth my time if you help me do my job."

She will have to explain later to the department later that no, she is not going to be one of those strange women sending doting fan mail to the serial killers. They likely won't believe her. Oh well...

She shifts her posture and taps at the table thoughtfully for a moment before moving in to her next line of questioning.

"I would like you to tell me about the first time you took a life in an illegal context."

---

366
TWC: 1656

Ah yes, the sound of one's loyalty to their village. A feeling Sakata once used to share until he found out it didn't really work the other way around as well. "A big family my ass" he'd mumble under his breath as he thought back at the one time he actually needed the support of his fellow members in the Land of Waves. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. If anything, Sakata came to despise the village system. Not quite his cup of tea. Safe to say the silver haired didn't stick around for a long period of time, not like he had any say in the matter.

"What's illegal to you might be righteous to me" he replied as it was now Murata's turn to ask a question. Considering she didn't come and visit him to talk about about the weather, although briefly mentioning it was evening, Sakata expected his crimes would be brought up regardless. "Storytime with Sakata, alright". The first life he took, the moment he knew there would be no turning back and the only way forward was as a criminal, a murderer. Although those specific details could surely be found in his dossier, the man decided there was no harm in repeating them once more.

"As you may or may not know, it was custom for our vi-, I mean the Land of Waves, to hire outsiders for doing their dirty work". He refused to refer to the place as his village or home, that time had long since passed. "The higher ups preferred reaching out to some lowly criminals, yes I know how ironic that sounds, anyway" the silver haired continued. "Perhaps they didn't trust their own, people like me, or maybe they didn't believe we were suited to be able to do the same, maybe even better. No, they would rather ask help from some scum willing to do anything for a couple of ryo than count on the ones who were actually born and raised in the Land of Waves". Sakata didn't hide the fact he hated how things were done in the place he once called his village.

Did he agree with them? No. Did he blame them? Same answer. He wasn't in the position to judge others for their bad decisions, but they still left a bad taste in his mouth. "I know what you think. If he didn't like what they did, why didn't he try and stop them? Who knows. Maybe part of me refused to set aside my pride. Or maybe I was too young like they said". A lot of possible answers but none that would be able to turn back time and change the outcome. And just like he mentioned earlier during the interrogation, there were no regrets.

"Alright, where was I? Let's see. Oh right, the outsiders". No point in stretching it any further so might as well cut to the chase, he figured. "One of them used to hang around my place, felt bad for me and decided to take me with him on one of the jobs he got paid for, said it wouldn't be anything too major. Long story short, it was. The moment we showed up things immediately turned south. Were we set up or was he simply too stupid to make sure he checked everything beforehand? No clue. The only thing that mattered was that I got framed for all of it". Sakata would explain to the woman how the outsider put the blame on him, saying how the young boy wanted to prove himself. Something the higher ups of course believed considering how he behaved lately.

Finishing his glass of water he then proceeded with his story. "I don't need to tell you whose side they took. The one they invested a lot of money in, or the boy who grew frustrated with getting neglected by his own. That's right, they tried to arrest me, have me take the blame for someone else's mistakes. Luckily I was able to get away before they would have me pay for something I didn't do. After my escape, depending on how you want to call it, I searched for that bastard day and night until I finally found where he was staying. Let's just say he wasn't able to tell anymore lies after that day". Sakata sat back in his chair, smiling he still remembered everything about that time.

"Probably not what you expected, right?"

(WC: 746, TWC: 2104)