The Darkest Secret
Morino Ibiki's life was full of secrets. As part of the intelligence gathering part of Konoha's forces, his life had to be.
Some of those secrets were his own.
Ibiki's darkest secret was that he didn't want to do this anymore. He'd lost his taste for it a long time ago, the interrogation, the grinding questions hour after hour until he wore someone down, like a nub of their original self. The way he used people up was like the constant stress one placed upon the eraser of a pencil, until there was no more to be had and the ferrule holding the eraser to the end of the pencil scraped against the paper, leaving gray streaks.
He hated that. He hated the crying and the begging and the bile that rose in the back of his throat. He hated the most when nothing but physical pain would break someone, when all of his psychological know-how was useless, and he had to draw blood and break bones.
Most damningly, he hated that there was no one at home for him to help wash off the blood and the sin and regain his humanity.
He didn't want to do this anymore.