Okay, long chapter; longest chapter yet. Who's with me?

I don't own Naruto.

The room was much like his cell, but Nagato could tell it was larger when his eyes explored the shadows that melted away into darkness. It was completely black except for the little lamp with its candle flickering and melting away within, resting on top of the table. Nagato sat at the chair on the far side from the chair, and his interrogator sat across from him.

Admittedly, despite his time in ANBU Nagato had little experience with interrogation. They told him he was too "nice" to be able to assist and directed him to patrol and high-profile missions.

"Nice". That word both made Nagato want to laugh and left a bad taste in his mouth. All of his companions on dayside supported no opinion other than that Nagato had been getting progressively more abrupt in his killing and frankly more aggressive in battle over the years. He still didn't want to use the Rinnegan unless in extremity, both out of personal distaste (Nagato knew just how much the Uchiha relied on their Sharingan and the Hyuuga on their Rinnegan) and because he knew better than to do something that would make him a target; ANBU were supposed to be discreet. He didn't drag out death (Nagato had never had and frankly didn't think he would ever have an appetite for pain) but he didn't spare enemies if they came at him.

Everyone said he was getting less "nice" on the battlefield. Everybody except ANBU apparently, and for that they steered him away from the little dank chambers in the underground levels of headquarters.

For his limited experience with interrogation, Nagato couldn't help but think that his interrogator (for there could be no other explanation for why he was there) was a bit unorthodox.

She was a tall, full-figured young woman, likely around the same age as Nagato. Her hair was fair and her eyes were pale and there was a translucent smattering of freckles over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Coldly beautiful, nothing on the scale of Konan or Tsunade, but still fair and cold.

And she wore the smile of an alligator, candle flashing on a thin show of teeth.

With a flick of the eyes she took in his tattoo. "So you're in Konohagakure's ANBU?"

Nagato raised an eyebrow. "Did your comrades not see the mask I was wearing when they found me?"

The interrogator's smile grew on one side and she tapped her cheek with a finger. "Hh-hmm, yes, we did. I was just trying to confirm for the record. Now, for the record—" her voice became considerably more businesslike "—please state your name, registration number and exact rank. We like to have those for report purposes."

Of course you do. Nagato leaned back in his chair and did his best to look as bored as possible. "Senju Hashirama, 000001, King of the Undying Lands. Anything else?"

With that, the room seemed to get a little colder. The interrogator's smile never broke but the smile no longer reached her eyes, now like chips of ice. "I wasn't under the impression that rudeness was something they taught ANBU in Konohagakure."

Nagato didn't answer, and she went on, laying her hands down on her lap. "My name is Ishidorou Kiyomi. You can call me Ishidorou-san. Now, will you do the same?" Her tone was eerily reminiscent of a grade school teacher addressing her youngest students. "Such a simple thing as your name; surely you won't cling to that like a fool. This is not a place for secrets."

Oh? I was unaware of that. Shoulders tensing involuntarily, Nagato resisted the urge to lick his lips and narrowed his eyes at Ishidorou. "What exactly is keeping me here?"

She tilted her head to one side, the smile fading to be replaced by an expression of mock curiosity. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, I think you do." Nagato nodded to her bare arms. "You don't have a lot of muscle; you're smaller than me." He allowed a perfunctory scan of what portion of her body could be seen over the table. "You're also unarmed, unless you've got senbon in your boots. Even with my chakra sealed I could knock you out and leave. I could strangle you," he added softly, "or crack your neck if you weren't able to stop me in time. I could force open the door and escape. What's keeping me here?"

For a moment, Ishidorou was completely silent. She stared at Nagato, eyes veiled and inscrutable.

Then…

"This." Her hands moved in a blur of signs, and the room was filled with water.

-0-

"Are you ready to play nicely?"

This was what Nagato first heard when the water subsided. He was on the floor, coughing, letting his screaming lungs fill up with air and shaking the water beads out of his sodden hair. In a clatter of hollow footsteps, Ishidorou was standing over him.

"There was never any water."

Nagato managed to look up at her; his eyes were blurring and he saw a vague, hazy vision of two women standing over him. "What?"

A breathtakingly gentle smile followed. "There was never any water."

"No, that—"

"There was never any water. You aren't even wet."

"Wha—" Genjutsu. Nagato turned his eyes back down on the floor and squeezed them shut. Genjutsu. And him, in no position to dispel the illusion. He barely even knew how genjutsu worked—Jiraiya had always focused on ninjutsu when it came to training Nagato.

Ishidorou crouched down beside him. "Now, I ask again. Will you play nicely this time? No more cheap tricks, no more tall tales, no more lies? I won't even ask you for your name; we don't really need it." Her light, whimsical tone filled up the whole room.

"There's something I want to know, something you're going to tell me." Her voice was more serious, as it had been when asking his name. "Which roads do the Leaf use to transport weapons and foodstuffs? It's very important that you tell me soon."

Nagato swallowed. So this was what it came down to. "I don't know," he replied, looking for an opening. Does she carry the keys to this room on her?

Ishidorou caught him sneaking glances at her belt. "We're both locked in," came the singsong response. "Can't get in or out unless I call—and I won't. Tell you what, I'm going to give you one more chance to tell the truth. What roads do the Leaf use to transport supplies? Tell me all of them and tell me now."

"I don't know."

"I said no more lies."

This time, it was fire.

-0-

Nagato watched dully as the black marks receded from his skin and the flesh rearranged itself into what it had been before facing flames. He still trembled with pain but the injuries were completely gone.

"You didn't scream even once; I'm amazed."

That was it. Following the sound of that voice Nagato sprang to his feet. Hands connected with coarse material and Ishidorou laughed contemptuously as she was slammed against a wall. "Do you honestly think that will be enough?" She disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Kage Bunshin.

Footsteps, slow and leisurely, sounded from behind. "How about I ask something else, since you seem to be unforthcoming about supply lines? When is the next general mobilization of Konohagakure troops? Why has there been so little activity on the front lines over the past few months? I doubt that it has everything to do with a renewed focus on defeating the Sand nin."

"I have nothing to say to you," Nagato responded, spitting when he saw Ishidorou's boots.

Hands arranged themselves into signs. "I would have thought you'd want to stop the pain."

-0-

In the flames, Nagato thought of home. He thought of Konan, he thought of Yahiko, of Jiraiya, of Minato and Kushina and Kakashi, of anything that could take his mind off of pain.

The ANBU, long patrols and grueling missions and nothing to show for it but the beating of his own heart and the thought that Konoha still stood at the end of the day. Nagato wasn't sure when he'd started to think of Konoha as home but he was only realizing it now, as flames let flesh slide from bone. He realized it as the air seared his lungs into ash and stone. He realized it as his blood evaporated.

Nagato was going to get out, he kept telling himself. He wasn't going to tell the Iwa anything, and he would get out. He was going to bust out or someone would come for him, and he would go home.

-0-

"Since you don't want to tell me anything about your village, why don't you tell me something about yourself?"

She always waited a few seconds to start asking questions after the flames subsided. Nagato could only suppose that Ishidorou felt the need to let him get his breath.

"I was noticing those eyes of yours." Nagato felt his blood run cold. Not that; don't ask about that. "It looks like a dojutsu." Ishidorou had adopted the demeanor of a curious child and nothing could be more poisonous. "I've never seen anything like it before. What is it? I'm curious to know."

No. He wasn't telling her that. Nagato knew where this would end up—him strapped on a table and eventually eye-less—and he wasn't telling her that. "Go to Hell," he croaked, and a soft humming filled the room.

"Fine. Be that way. We can go on all night. Into the morning, as well, if you remain so recalcitrant."