On the first day after the Records Room fire, the Uchiha Clan Compound did not descend into chaos.
That surprised many people.
The charred wooden shelves still smelled of smoke.
Blackened sheets of paper lay spread across a long table.
Che led the Young Action Group in sorting through the remnants.
Cheng retrieved copies from the Konoha Military Police Force.
Shisui was responsible for checking the witness records.
Itachi recopied the entries involving coordination with the Anbu.
No one shouted slogans.
No one rushed to the Hokage Building to demand an explanation, either.
Everyone was restoring the paperwork.
Restoring paperwork was tedious.
Comparing page after page, checking line after line, carefully rewriting every name.
Some members of the Young Action Group wrote until their hands ached, but none complained.
They had all seen the fire last night.
They had also seen Che's expression as he clutched the copies, looking almost too drained to stand.
Only then had they understood that the records they usually considered a nuisance might be the only thing left at a crucial moment.
Halfway through copying, Uchiha Jun suddenly asked Che, "Did you used to do this every day?"
Che did not look up.
"More or less."
"Didn't it get tiresome?"
"It did."
Che finally glanced at him.
"But you still have to write it down."
Uchiha Jun lowered his head and continued copying.
For the first time, he gained a little genuine respect for this paperwork.
As he copied, Uchiha Jun muttered bitterly, "They just want to see us fall apart."
Che did not even raise his head.
"Then don't."
It was a simple statement.
But it worked better than a reprimand.
Itachi sat on the other side, watching his clansmen piece the burned papers back together.
Something stirred inside him that he could not