"You four will wait here. Do not let anyone enter. Understood?"
"Yes, Commander!"
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Natsuhiko spoke with a mild smile to the four Senju shinobi standing guard within the ANBU branch's underground prison.
Despite his gentle tone, the four didn't relax for a second. Their level of deference was so extreme it even made Kakashi glance over in surprise.
Natsuhiko, however, paid it little mind. It was obvious enough: whatever he had done before had left a deep impression on them, perhaps even fear. Still, there were matters yet to be fully confirmed, and until they were, he had no intention of letting these four slip beyond his scrutiny.
Without another word, he led Kakashi into the cell block. The four Senju immediately withdrew, dispersing to take control of the surrounding perimeter with disciplined precision, carrying out his orders without the slightest deviation.
Natsuhiko offered no comment. There were still pieces of the puzzle he needed to verify.
...
When they arrived outside Pakura's cell, she lifted her head at once.
Her time in confinement had been… unexpected.
Not harsh—quite the opposite.
If anything, her treatment had been better than she had imagined. Ever since she had witnessed that private meeting between Natsuhiko and the Fourth Hokage, her conditions had subtly improved. Though blood was still drawn from her daily, her meals were adequate, even comfortable. More strangely, she had yet to be formally interrogated.
It didn't feel like the ANBU.
Not at all.
Is today the day? she wondered.
Her thoughts stirred, but her expression remained composed. From the moment a shinobi entered the academy, they were taught how to face capture—how to resist interrogation, how to mislead, how to die with dignity if necessary.
In truth, the lesson most deeply ingrained was simpler: if you are captured, die as quickly as possible.
In the shinobi world, it was an unspoken rule. Interrogation inevitably led to death; the only question was how much suffering preceded it. Better to choose one's end than to endure it.
Pakura had already prepared herself.
At first, she had considered resistance. But once she was brought to Konoha, that thought had quietly faded. Perhaps it was because she still had value—her bloodline, her abilities—something worth preserving, at least for now.
That was likely why she had not been sent to the Torture and Interrogation Division.
Natsuhiko, of course, had no interest in her internal reflections.
He stepped forward, stopping just before her, and casually released a portion of the seals binding her. In an instant, her hearing returned.
He did not, however, restore her ability to speak.
The decision was deliberate.
He had no desire to argue with her. It wasn't that he feared such exchanges—only that he found them tedious. He preferred something far simpler: to speak, and to have others listen… and, in the end, to accept what he offered, regardless of how he chose to present it.
Of course, he did not always impose his will so directly. There was a balance to maintain. Strength had its place, but so did restraint. Natsuhiko understood that well.
"Now you can hear me," he said with a soft smile, his tone as mild as ever. "I imagine you have quite a few questions."
He regarded her calmly, as though they were meeting under ordinary circumstances.
"You've been here for some time now, and yet the ANBU has neither interrogated you nor treated you as one might expect. Naturally, there's a reason for that."
His gaze lingered, steady and unreadable.
"After all… your value is ar greater than you think."
At this point, Natsuhiko paused briefly. Watching the indifferent look in Pakura's eyes, he could already tell—she had heard him, certainly, but had dismissed his words without a second thought.
So he decided to escalate.
He had no intention of wasting time here, not when the day's work was already meant to be over. There were other matters awaiting him—like that man, Senju Ryota.
"Do you know what your greatest value is?"
He smiled as he spoke, stepping closer before reaching out to grasp her chin, lifting her face just as he had done to Senju Renge the night before. For reasons even he hadn't fully examined, he found himself increasingly fond of this method when dealing with troublesome women.
It wasn't exactly… admirable.
But at the very least, it was far preferable to snapping a neck.
Pakura frowned, her gaze turning sharp, almost dangerous, as she stared at the young man before her. She had no idea what he was about to say—but whatever it was, she had already made her decision.
She would not respond.
Not to him.
And yet, the moment his next words fell, something in her expression shifted.
"Your greatest value… lies in the fact that you can be turned."
His voice remained gentle, almost soothing.
Pakura's eyes tightened for just a fraction of a second—before a trace of cold mockery surfaced within them.
Turned?
The very idea was absurd.
She had never once considered it, nor would she ever. Betraying Sunagakure was not an option—it wasn't even a thought worth entertaining. For a fleeting moment, she found herself wondering if the man before her was simply a fool.
Did he truly believe that capture alone was enough to break a shinobi?
Countless had been taken prisoner during the war. Yet how many had truly chosen to defect? And even among those who became missing-nin, how many willingly served another hidden village?
Ridiculous.
"Don't give me that look," Natsuhiko said calmly, as though he could read every passing thought in her eyes. "Do you really think someone in the ANBU would speak without reason?"
He continued without pause, his tone steady, unhurried.
"Do you know why I haven't removed the seal on your voice?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Because I have no interest in arguing with you. Of course, you could choose silence instead—but it makes no difference to me either way."
His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, before shifting slightly, as if recalling something distant.
"There is, however, something you should understand."
He leaned in just a little closer, his voice lowering.
"Pakura… during my last mission in the Land of Wind, I came across some rather interesting intelligence. Some of it concerns you."
There was a pause—brief, deliberate.
"We learned that Rasa intends to secure the benefits Sunagakure gained from the Land of Bears, and to do so, he must first stabilize his own village."
"Especially those troublesome elements from Kirigakure," he added quietly. "They've been a constant source of disruption for you, haven't they?"
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, watching her.
"And so, your mission… is to go to the Land of Water, to Kirigakure, and negotiate. To put an end to hostilities. To persuade them to stop interfering with Sunagakure."
"How far those negotiations go," he said, almost lightly, "depends entirely on your ability."
Then, after a brief pause, his smile deepened—just enough to feel unsettling.
"But here's the question…"
He tilted his head, voice soft, almost conversational.
"Have you ever wondered… why you were chosen for this task?"
Natsuhiko paused deliberately, his gaze drifting toward Pakura as he observed her reaction.
There was none.
Her expression remained exactly as before—calm, indifferent, untouched. Not even the slightest flicker of hesitation crossed her face.
It didn't surprise him.
The Pakura before him was not some hollowed remnant resurrected from the dead. Her convictions were intact, unshaken, almost frightening in their solidity. A woman like this would never have been sent alone on such a mission otherwise—especially not when she herself had once dealt with Kirigakure shinobi in the Land of Wind with such ruthless severity.
In fact, her unwavering resolve only made things easier.
After all, the stronger the belief… the more devastating its collapse.
"I know you don't believe me," Natsuhiko continued calmly. "After all, I'm an ANBU from Konoha. But tell me—if I had no evidence, would I really be standing here, saying all this to you?"
As he spoke, he idly tilted her face from side to side before finally releasing her. Then, reaching into his pouch, he took out a scroll and tossed it casually at her feet.
"It's not hard to understand why you were chosen," he went on, his tone almost conversational. "You're a hero of your village, aren't you? Your methods against Kirigakure in the Land of Wind were… quite decisive."
He smiled faintly.
"A person like you, at a time when Rasa is so desperate for what he calls 'peace'… is the perfect bargaining chip."
The moment he let go, Pakura had already turned her head away, refusing even to glance at the scroll. But at those words, her body stiffened—just for an instant—before she forced herself back into stillness, as though nothing had happened.
Natsuhiko noticed.
Of course he did.
"Anyone with half a mind knows what kind of man Rasa is," he went on, his voice still calm, almost soothing. "Think back—how did the Third Great Ninja War begin?"
His words unfolded slowly, deliberately, each one fitting into place like a piece of an unseen puzzle.
"The disappearance of your Third Kazekage… and Rasa, rallying support under the banner of vengeance. It's not hard to imagine how he rose to power."
He took a step closer, his tone deepening.
"And after he became Kazekage? Your village wasn't exactly stable, was it? Opposition everywhere, dissent in every corner. A man who rises on promises cannot afford not to fulfill them."
A faint pause.
"Driven by the call for revenge, burdened by internal strife, and ever eager to secure greater gains in the Land of Rivers… he chose to ignite the Third Great Ninja War."
Natsuhiko's voice never lost its gentleness. It flowed like a quiet breeze, soft and almost comforting—but in the confines of the cell, it carried a chill that neither Kakashi nor Pakura could ignore.
Kakashi endured it in silence.
Pakura, however, felt something far more unsettling.
She did not want to hear this.
And yet, she could not deny it.
Every word he spoke demanded consideration, and as someone who had lived through that era, she could not simply dismiss what he was weaving together before her. Piece by piece, he connected fragments of truth she already knew—and in doing so, revealed something far more terrifying.
A possibility she did not dare accept.
"Tell me," Natsuhiko continued softly, "a man who calculates so precisely—what do you think a 'hero' like you is worth to him?"
His eyes rested on her, unwavering.
"When he needs to focus on something else… would it not be convenient to trade your life—and your bloodline—in exchange for Kirigakure's silence?"
The words fell gently.
But they struck like a blade.
Pakura's chest tightened. She wanted to reject it outright, to dismiss it as nothing more than manipulation—but the doubt had already taken root.
Could it be true?
Could the Fourth Kazekage… could Sunagakure itself truly intend to abandon her, to use her as nothing more than a bargaining chip?
Almost unconsciously, her gaze shifted.
The scroll Natsuhiko had thrown lay beside her, already unfurled from its fall. As her eyes landed upon its contents, her entire body went rigid, as though frozen in place.
The light faded from her eyes in that instant, as though something within her had quietly collapsed.
...
"I'll leave the rest to you, Kakashi."
"Don't worry, Captain. I won't let you down."
As they stepped out of the prison, Natsuhiko spoke with an easy smile, and Kakashi answered with a solemn nod, his tone firm with resolve.
Pakura had not given a clear answer.
But neither of them needed one.
Both understood perfectly well that the woman's inner defenses had already been breached.
The contents of that scroll—those carefully transcribed codes and notes—had been taken from the ANBU commander known as Viper, and annotated by Natsuhiko himself. It had been shown to her deliberately, a calculated move meant to convey a simple truth:
He knew far more than she imagined.
Even the encrypted intelligence of Sunagakure had found its way into his hands. A document like that was not an anomaly—it was proof.
Pakura was still resisting, still struggling to reconcile what she had seen. But before leaving, Natsuhiko had given her something else to consider.
In a few days, Kakashi would take her to Kirigakure.
And then… she would see for herself whether he had been lying.
...
"I'll take my leave then, Captain."
Kakashi glanced briefly at the four ANBU operatives still following behind Natsuhiko. It was clear enough—his superior had other matters to attend to. Without hesitation, he made his exit.
Natsuhiko nodded lightly, watching as Kakashi disappeared down the corridor. Only once he was gone did he turn his gaze back to the four men behind him.
"Well then," he said lightly, "let's go."
His expression remained as gentle as ever, his eyes drifting across each of them in turn.
In response, all four immediately lowered their heads.
Natsuhiko tilted his head slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"Am I really that frightening?" he asked, almost teasingly. "You're making this rather awkward for me."
"Apologies, Commander," they answered in unison.
Yet though they spoke words of apology, deep down they knew he was right.
He was frightening.
They could still remember, with unsettling clarity, the things he had said—and done—before leaving Konoha. The memory lingered like a shadow they could not shake.
None of them dared to mistake his youthful appearance or constant smile for kindness.
That smile… was nothing more than a mask.
Beneath it lay something far colder—a blade hidden behind warmth, a quiet, smiling devil.
After all, what kind of person could threaten the lives of his own clansmen with such calm composure? What kind of man could force them to choose sides while wearing that same gentle expression?
A division commander of the ANBU.
A man who had survived and risen through its ranks for five long years.
They had no doubt—if pushed, he would act without hesitation.
"Oh, right."
Just as he turned to leave, Natsuhiko paused, as if recalling something, and lightly tapped his temple.
"Does any one of you happen to know where Senju Ryota resides?"
He smiled apologetically.
"I'm afraid I don't know where to find him. I imagine one of you does?"
The moment the name was spoken, one of the four stiffened almost imperceptibly. His breathing faltered, and his head dipped even lower than before.
Natsuhiko's smile deepened ever so slightly.
"Ah… so someone does."
His voice remained soft, almost courteous.
"Then I'll have to trouble you to lead the way."
There was a quiet pause, just long enough for the weight of his words to settle.
"After all," he added gently, "I have something rather important to discuss with him."
"And I would hate to be delayed."