Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Central Tendency Error

"On a scale of 1 to 5 with 1 being low and 5 being high, rate your experience…." How many times have you read something like that? Ratings with numerical scales are common. They can be a quick and cost-efficient way to collect a large sample of data from a large sample pool. However, ratings are not without their faults. For example, central tendency error. Which is a common instance where the rater is reluctant to rate something in either an extremely positive or extremely negative manner. Be it from wanting to please the person administering the rating scale, social pressure, or fear of being wrong or unfair. When central tendency error occurs, data tends to be clustered in the middle of the rating continuum.


The sounds of gagging echoed of the tiled walls of the T&I department's bathroom. Despite wearing pants, the feeling of chilled tile made kneeling on the floor even more uncomfortable. The taste of bile shot up my throat and erupted into the porcelain bowl I was crouched over. And here I thought eating Anzu's cooking for lunch was already going to be the highlight of my day. It never occurred to me I would have to taste it a second time in a regurgitated form.

Panting, trying to bring clean air into my system, I sat back on my heels and flushed. But I didn't move after that. Too embarrassed to face the all-knowing and not-surprised expressions of Ibiki and my seasoned colleagues occupying the room behind me. I mean, there wasn't even an excessive amount of blood! I've witnessed Shinobu make a bigger mess when allowed to go wild on a subject. I've seen him mangle and break someone's hands until they resembled ground beef. I've been stuck in the same room as Anko as she pulled information about a smuggling ring from some poor sob by tearing off his fingernails with her teeth.

Didn't lose my lunch after any of those experiences. Sure, my stomach churned afterward. And if put me off from eating dinner when I was dismissed for the day. But I still made it through the day; when asked, rating those lessons in torture as 'not that bad'. So, why was today different? Because for the first time, I had to get my hands dirty.

There was a shuffling of fabric behind me. Probably done on purpose to alert me of his presence. Not that I was ready to turn around. A nose. All I had done was break someone's nose. Something I had done before in sparring matching. Both on accident and on purpose. But for some reason this time felt different. The sounds of cartilage breaking under my fist. Warm blood gushing everywhere like a gutted pig. How it stained my subject's face and mixed with her tears. The collar of her shirt was beyond repair too. White. Not a good color to wear when you have an appointment with T&I. Although, I supposed she didn't know that when she got picked up a week ago.

"It was a well-executed break", Ibiki said in the background. Studying the skin around my knuckles, I tried to decide what was blood splatter and what was bruising flesh. "But the nose isn't an area we typically target in this field. We are after information. Making it so our subjects struggle with the mechanics of talking is counterproductive. Try dislocating fingers next time and slow down. The fear of anticipation can be a more powerful tool than pain".

When the sight of my reddened knuckles wasn't helping settle my stomach, I gave up and wiped the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand. "Thanks for the feedback", I drawled as I sat back enough that I could look over my shoulder to see Ibiki. He was leaning against the tile wall with the doorframe on his right. His arms were crossed and his posture was relaxed like this was just another day at the office. And… I suppose it is. "I'm pretty sure human resources wouldn't be thrilled a male supervisor was in the same bathroom as a female underling, Ibiki-Sensei".

My attempt to make him uncomfortable was ignored. There wasn't even a facial tic. "Wash your hands and let's go. We need to debrief".

Sighing and nearly gagging again at the scent of sick in the air, I complied. Knowing if I complained about this work day being never-ending, Ibiki would drag this out as long as he possibly could. At least running the faucet and lathering up with hand soap kind of cleared the air. Although, why T&I has lavender scented soap in their bathroom is question that needed further investigation.

Ibiki waited, standing like a statue the entire time it took me to steel myself. But when I turned to face him, he moved first. Nodding once he turned to head out of the bathroom ahead of me. A clear sign I was to follow. Though he paused in the doorframe for half a second and let out a short suffering sigh. That was may only clue that something else was waiting for me.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I moved out the bathroom behind him. A part of me suspected it to be Shinobu waiting to tell me I needed to clean up the mess I left in interrogation room three. Another part of me knew better that trust a prediction without any supporting data. Besides, there's only one person who can evoke a response like that from Ibiki.

Once I was standing shoulder to shoulder with Ibiki, I was momentarily blinded by a bright flash and the only I could hear was a loud clicking sound. "Aw, baby's first torture session", Anko cooed as she stood next to her desk with a disposable camera in her hands.

"Anko", Ibiki complained as I blinked away the dark spots that where dancing in my vision. "You're behind in submitting your mission reports".

"Come on, Ibiki. This is a milestone for all members of T&I that needs to be documented". Anko grinned, completely unaffected by the strictness Ibiki tried to impose. All smiles, she waved the camera near her face. "I'm thinking once we get these developed, we'll have some great decorations for the department's end of year party".

An end of year party? Like an office party? In the torture and interrogation unit? "She's joking, right?" I asked, frowning at Anko's camera as visions of a T&I potluck flashing through my mind. For some reason, the thought of eating anything prepared by someone who worked here was making a return visit to bathroom more likely. Especially when thinking about Shinobu's knife skills. What would he even bring to a potluck?

In response Ibiki sighed again and Anko clutched her camera so tightly that the plastic creaked. Her message was clear. She'd take down anyone who tried to spoil her fun. Hmm… maybe if I provoked her enough, she'll accidentally break the camera herself. Thus, putting an end to whatever fantasy she's cooking. "Just finish those reports before you go home. I'm done making excuses to the Hokage about the T&I's problem child". Ibiki ordered even though it kind of sounded like defeat. He stalked forward, passing Anko and her desk with out a second glance.

At a slower pace, I followed, pausing at the corner of Anko's desk which looked suspiciously void of all things paperwork. "What did you do to get that title?" I asked.

Pocketing the camera Anko beamed down at me, her eyes squinted in some sort of malicious glee. "Stick around and I'll teach you. We can start with Shinobu".

"Rion", Ibiki called over his shoulder. "You have not been dismissed. Follow". For once, I didn't waste a second thought in obeying. Supposedly, there are something things I don't need an answer for.


Ibiki offered no information as he led us out of the bowels of T&I. It was a trend that continued when we left the security of our department and joined every day life on the streets of Konoha. The sky was burnt orange at this time of day. There was still plenty of natural light to see by, but a few places had already turned on their street lights. The civilians out and about were the kind rushing home after work or the few who had the luxury to enjoy Konoha's nightlife. The atmosphere was light as the streets filled with the chatter of people who freed themselves of the day's burdens. Some stood outside of restaurants as they waited for friends to join them. Others passed by with smiles on their faces as if their thoughts were propelling them forward. It felt…. Off that things were so normal after I had smashed someone's nose into their skull. Like they had no clue what was going on behind the scenes of the village. I glanced down at my bruising knuckles as I trailed behind Ibiki. Of course, they didn't. The work we did occurred in the shadows. In our world, information is king. It's something we hoard and therefore, where not a liberty to acknowledging the ongoings of our work life with the public. However; despite cognitively understanding that, it did nothing to abate the feeling that this content atmosphere didn't belong.

The place Ibiki took us to wasn't anything work-related. When he had taken to the streets, I kind of expected a trip to the Hokage's tower. But instead, Ibiki walked straight into a bar. He only glanced in my direction when I hesitated in the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh", I started when confronted with Ibiki's inquiring look. "I'm not allowed in places like this". I forced myself to answer. And I mean, really. It should be obvious by the simple fact that there were no other underage people here.

"It's fine", Ibiki intoned. "You're wearing your headband and you're with me. As long as you're not drinking underage, no one will give you a hard time". He waited until was I besides him again before continuing into the room; looking for a table. This time I did drag my feet. Damn ambiguous shinobi rules where age requirements were treated more like guidelines than actual rules.

This place wasn't the cleanest. As is evident by the table Ibiki found in the corner of the room. It smelled heavily of smoke and every table had an ash tray on it instead of a center piece. The chairs were old. The one I sat in wobbled to the left and neither had any bit of cushion to them. Ibiki made himself at home; his eyes scanning the room and its occupant as he waited for… something.

With nothing to do and left with no instructions, I started to do the same. It wasn't a very big bar. More like a hole in the wall. The lighting was poor; making it easy to blend in with the shadows. So, it wasn't surprising that the bar's clientele seemed curtailed to a certain demographic. Every person I could see that wasn't staff had a headband somewhere on their person. But there didn't seem to be a division amongst rank. Chunin. Jounin. They were both mingling amongst themselves. A couple of faces I recognized. Genma Shiranui with his signature senbon being held between his teeth. Aoba Yamashiro wearing his sunglasses. Though, I hadn't met either of these two in person. Meaning that I needed to watch my mouth when here. Not like that was anything new.

A woman in a skirt that could hardly be called a skirt stopped at the table. "What can I get you?" She asked with no introduction and minimal interest. It must be nearing the end of her shift.

"Beer", Ibiki answered; sounding equally uninterested. "Whatever's bottled. Unopened. Juice for the kid. If you don't have juice, water is fine".

The waitress' only response was a curt nod before she turned on her heel and stalked off to the other side of the room where the barkeep was hard at work. Drumming my fingers on the tabletop, I decided I was done waiting for Ibiki to talk. "So, you took me to a shinobi dive bar because…"

Ibiki posture was stiff. Even in a place like this. It made me wonder what his homelife was like. Did he sit this stiffly and properly while lounging around in his pajamas? "You tell me", he directed without halting his study of the room.

Clicking my tongue, I took another glance around the room; repeating my own question in my head. Why would Ibiki bring his only genin to a place like this? "You wanted to show me firsthand the dangers of alcoholism and poor life choices".

There was no pause. "Try again", Ibiki ordered. Which can also be phrased as an order to take this seriously.

My fingers stilled as I allowed myself to actually think. "Bars can be good sources of information. For both observation and word of mouth. When people drink their inhibitions are lowered. Specifically executive functioning, which makes whatever filters they have in place more likely to fail. For intel, visiting the local watering hole can be very useful. But…." I paused when my eyes landed on a group of men sitting at the bar. One of them was slumped over as his friends carried a conversation over his head. Hopefully, none of them saw me. That's one encounter I'd rather not experience. Especially because it would open the floodgates for more moments with them. "We're sitting in a bar filled with our own comrades. So I don't think you took me here to spy on others. Besides, espionage isn't a part of our department".

Before Ibiki could tell me if I was even remotely close to his reason for bringing me here, the woman returned with two drinks balanced on a serving tray. The brown-tinted glass bottle was placed in front of Ibiki while a glass of orange juice was placed in front of me. Neither Ibiki nor I said anything until she walked away.

"You are here to learn a very important skill". Ibiki left me hanging as he made quick work of snapping off the cap on his bottle. But how did he do it? I barely saw him move. The first sip Ibiki took of his beer was long and drawn out as he stared at me over the bottle. "Compartmentalizing", he finally said after setting the bottle back down.

Tracing the rim of my glass, I blinked twice. Compartmentalizing? Why? "I don't think that's something you can teach someone". I commented before raising the glass to my lips. When was the last time I had orange juice? Shibi bought it on occasion. But it wasn't something Anzu and I kept in the house. Too much sugar.

"Wait", Ibiki said before anything could enter my mouth. "Your drink. You didn't check it for poison".

Okay… I thought as I paused. That was a skill he could teach me. And it made sense for that sort of lesson to happen in a bar. But then, why had he been going on about compartmentalizing? I lowered the glass by half an inch. "I don't know how to do that?"

Ibiki took another swig of beer before setting the bottle down and crossing his arms. "Check the color. Is that the usual look of orange juice?"

The lighting wasn't the best for this. But looking closely, the juice in the glass was indeed yellow. "Looks like orange juice".

"The consistency", Ibiki continued. "Does it seem like orange juice? It is too clear? Too cloudy? Like something could have been added?"

"No", was my answer after giving the juice another look. Although, I'm not sure what 'cloudy' orange juice would look like.

"Examine it again. Does anything appear off? Such as too many bubbles or not enough". Ibiki kept going.

Bubbles? I frowned into the glass. Orange juice doesn't have bubbles. "It's bubble-free".

"How does it smell?"

"Like citrus".

Ibiki nodded. "The last test is to take a sip and see if it tastes off". I sat the glass down and stared at Ibiki. "Well?" He prompted.

"After all that, I don't want it". I defended my inaction. "Is your advice for testing possibly poisoned drinks really take a sip?"

In response, the corner of Ibiki's lips twitched upwards. "It's not a bad idea", he expressed as he reached for his beer. "To expose yourself to small amounts of poison and start building up an immunity". Is… Is there something in this juice? Did Ibiki tell them to put something in it? If yes, when? "Compartmentalizing", Ibiki said; immediately jumping into his original topic. "It is an important skill for all shinobi to develop. Many factors of our lives cannot be brought home with us. Some missions are classified. Some information is privileged. In some situations, there is nothing we can do to address the problems presented to us. Compartmentalizing is important for maintaining personal lives and avoiding burnout and psychological harm".

I was starting to connect the dots as I returned to tracing the rim of my glass with my fingertip and keeping a wary eye on the trio still hanging out at the bar. "I'm not going to go mental after busting one person's nose".

Ibiki kept going as if I hadn't said anything. "Compartmentalizing is a balance. An especially important one for shinobi who have civilian family members and friends. You have a dependent at home, correct?" My hand stilled and I narrowed my eyes. It was interesting to hear Anzu being called my dependent. It was a role reversal I wasn't fully ready to accept. "Do not go home before you are ready", Ibiki advised. "Learning how to manage the burden of our work and the toll it takes on us is a crucial component of a successful shinobi career. Take another look", Ibiki instructed as he paused to take a sip of beer. "With new information, what can you tell me about the people in this room?"

Sighing myself, I did as he asked. Still, it wouldn't be too hard for him to just tell me what he was trying to get at. It'd save a lot of time too. I hate guessing games. "It's mostly chunin and jounin here. I thought that's because genin aren't old enough to drink. But from what you're saying it may be because drinking in a bar is how they separate their work lives from their personal lives", I tried, taking a shot in the dark. It didn't help that Ibiki's blank face wasn't telling me anything. "Like it's a ritual or something. A transition to regulate themselves before they go home".

The pause between my half-baked answer and Ibiki's response was an uncomfortable one. It was long enough that I kind of wanted to accuse Ibiki of doing it on purpose. Like he was applying interrogation techniques outside of work. Funny when it was happening during a lecture about 'what happens at work stays at work'.

"Good", Ibiki finally said after deciding he had dragged the moment out as long as he could. "With time, you will develop your own habits about how to recognize when you are a shinobi serving your village and when you are a citizen of Konoha. Everyone has their own preferences. Anko, for example, prefers causing mayhem for others to ground herself after work".

"And evidently, you like to go to bars and drink beer", I continued the conversation.

Ibiki didn't inform me if I was right or not. "Some like to do some light training. Others meet up with friends. I knew one comrade back in my genin days who left her shopping to be done after missions to help her mind reset before she returned home".

The hunched-over guy sitting between his friends at the bar slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position; grumbling some sort of complaint to the other two as he blearily glanced around the room. I had to fight an urge to duck for cover. No sudden movement. That would stand out more than anything else. Especially while in a shinobi haunt.

"As a member of T&I, nothing you do is fit for civilian ears". Ibiki kept going. Seemingly unaware of what was really holding my attention. But I knew better. "There will be times, like today, when you'll be impacted by what our job demands of us. Have a plan. Know where you are going to go and what you're going to do, and who is safe for you to be around. Do not risk the well-being of your family".

I get what he was hinting. I heard the warning in his voice and recognized this was a legitimate concern in families including shinobi. It's probably why most shinobi married other shinobi. And why civilians were rarely welcomed into our social circles. Partially because of the lack of common experiences. But also because of the danger. Despite understanding, it was still a concept I was struggling to wrap my mind around.

"I'll never hurt my sister", I stated as if I was merely stating the weather. It felt lubricious to even have to state. Without Anzu, I have no purpose. I have enough self-preservation to recognize that.

Ibiki's hand wrapped around the stem of his beer bottle. Though he didn't move to take a sip until he had said, "Better to never take that risk". At least that was one point that was easier to agree to. "Talk", Ibiki ordered. "About today. This was your first attempt at using physical force in an interrogation".

Shrugging, I started drumming my fingers on the side of my glass; enjoying the coolness of it in my hand. "It felt different". I settled on; flinching a little when the figure on the other side of the room made eye contact with me and glared. It took him no time before he was pointing me out to his friends. Leading me to having three grown men staring at me. One looking displeased to see me, one appearing concerned, and the other curious. Damn it. "I've broken people's noses before. But this was the first time I've thrown up afterward". Hell, there was one time in the academy where I broke another person's nose and laughed about it. "Why was this time different?"

It was an important question to ask. Just because I threw up once didn't mean I'd be able to avoid torture in the future. It was, after all, half of what Ibiki was training me for. Ibiki took his time before he asked, "Those other incidences, what were you doing?"

"Fighting", was the obvious answer. "Sometimes academy approved. Sometimes not". Over by the bar seating, the guy in the middle stood up unsteadily and his friends had to grab on to him to keep him upright. So, not much time left then. Stupid mother hens. They're worse than their wives half the time.

"There's your answer", Ibiki supplied; still refusing to acknowledge that my attention was elsewhere. "Before today, you have only acted so violently during fights. This was the first time you've attacked in cold blood". Well… when you say it like that, it makes a lot of sense. "Most genin had time to build their tolerance towards violence by gaining experience in the field. By starting in T&I, you will not be afforded that luxury. So, Rion", Ibiki used my name to make sure I was listening. Something that was proving to be difficult considering the trio currently crossing the room to approach us. "How will you handle the use of force in the future".

Knowing this future encounter was unavoidable, I managed to pull my eyes away from the three men. "Compartmentalizing", I answered dryly.

Ibiki smiled a closed-lip smile. "Good", he intoned again before taking another drink.

"Rion", a new voice slurred as the three men finally reached our table. "Ibiki", the same voice greeted.

In return, Ibiki bowed his head. Leaving the talking to me. "Shikamaru's dad, Chouji's dad, and their friend". The faces of Shikaku Nara and Chouza Akimichi twisted in discomfort at the use of their parental titles. Probably because I used them in this place; where they least expected to see me. "Do your wives know you're here?" I asked just to add salt to their wounds.

Though only Shikaku seemed pained by the question; probably already hearing his wife's voice yelling at him in his mind. "Rion", Chouza interjected in a gentle voice before Shikaku could say anything. "You're a little young to be here. Does Shibi know where you are?" This last part was asked with a disapproving glance in Ibiki's direction.

"Probably", I answered; letting go of the glass of juice. "I recently found out he planted a bug on me".

The third person in their group, a tall blond man with a long ponytail who could only be Ino's father smirked at my answer. At least he didn't seem to be as loud as his daughter. Shikaku leaned heavily into Chouza. "You only just figured that out?" He drawled.

A muscle in my right cheek twitched. "Hey, Shikamaru's dad. You don't look too good. Maybe should I help you home. I'm sure whatever's wrong your wife can fix it if I tell her where you've been".

Shikaku clicked his tongue. "Troublesome brat", he grumbled. "Like you're willing to tell Yoshino I found you at a bar just to get me in trouble".

I raised an eyebrow. "Should we find out?"

Shikaku and I glared at each other; falling into an old pastime of ours. Otherwise known as poking each other's buttons. After moving in with Shibi and Shino, I spent a lot of time avoiding my male relatives by hiding out at Shikamaru's and Chouji's houses. As such, both heads of the Nara and Akimichi clans were well verse in my nonsense and had different ways of dealing with it. Honestly, I'm still a little surprised at how okay they were with the Aburame bastard casually socializing with their heirs. But what was that old saying? Don't look a gifted horse in the mouth… Or at least, don't look a gift house in the mouth until they start tattling on you to Shibi.

"It's fine", Ibiki broke in before the Jounin commander and I could really go at it. Not that we would have gotten very far. Shikaku would give up if too much effort was required of him. "Rion is my student. I brought her here".

"See guys", Ino's father said to his friends. "If Ibiki brought her here, it's for a purpose. Everything is fine". Wow, that was a lot of trust he was placing in Ibiki. Though, I suppose it does make sense. I thought as I studied the Yamanaka head's face. His hairstyle kind of reminded me of a punk rocker. Ibiki often worked with Ino's dad and other Yamanaka because of their clan jutsu. So, it was probably more surprising that this was the first time I was meeting him.

"Yeah", I agreed with Ino's dad just to further irritate Shikaku. "He's teaching me about poisoning drinks and keeping secrets".

Shikaku and Ibiki let out nearly identical pained sighs at the same time. "I can't leave her here", Shikaku stated. "If Yoshino found out I left one of Shikamaru's little friends in a bar, I'd never hear the end of it".

Chouza nodded; siding with Shikaku as he eyed the drink in front of me with suspicion. Huh? Maybe that means Ibiki really did put something extra in the orange juice. "And that's without mentioning what Shibi would say to us if he found out we left his daughter in a bar".

Ino's dad smiled apologetically at Ibiki. "I guess it does go against dad code". Dad code? That's a thing? And Shibi knew about it and participated in it?

Ibiki rolled his eyes. "Fine", he relented. "Rion you are dismissed".

He didn't need to tell me twice. "Cool", I said; springing to my feet. "This place smells".

Pushing around Chouza and Shikaku, I made Shikaku struggle to maintain his balance. "Don't come back ", Shikaku called after me. "You'll ruin the buzz".

"My wife is making curry tonight if you would like to joy Chouji at our house", Chouza offered as I walked away from them.

I raised a hand to show I heard but didn't stop moving towards the exit. The last time I visited anyone's house was before graduation. Where Chouji and I stuffed our faces with snacks, Shikamaru napped, and Chouji's mom tried really hard to get us to study…. Thinking about what Ibiki said, I guess I could swing by. Just to give me more time before I had to look Anzu in the eyes and not mention anything about vomit and broken noses. Although, that would mean supplying other parents with information and anecdotes about me they can pass along to Shibi… For free and properly cooked curry, it might be worth it.