"It's you, isn't it?" He hisses, his grip on your face tightening, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks and keeping your head up.

You meet his gaze head-on, a smirk plastered on your lips.

"Oh please, Shiba. You give me too much credit." you scoff. "What's telling me you're not the traitor we're looking for, though? You'd have your reasons, wouldn't you?"

He pushes you further against the wall, his grip on your face becoming painful, his face dangerously close to yours.