Outside the training grounds, the sun had just edged past the top of the wall.
The last pair sparring inside broke apart. They failed to check their final moves, and only responded after the whistle blew twice.
Rows of training posts stood where they always had, their tops bleached pale by the sun.
The heat had yet to leave the stone steps, scorching the soles of anyone standing on them.
Kiyoshi was the last to leave. Before heading out, he glanced at the training posts inside.
His outer jacket lay over his forearm, leaving both hands free.
Someone stood at the foot of the steps.
Fair-skinned and mild-mannered, he stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves. When he saw Kiyoshi, he neither waved nor called his name, merely directed his gaze toward him.
He stood neither too close nor too far away, right where Kiyoshi would have to step on his way down.
Kabuto Yakushi.
The one who had registered for the exam.
He had not fought in the preliminaries. He had raised his hand in front of everyone and withdrawn his name from the matchups.
No one had stopped him or asked why. Few people in this village had even given him a second glance.
He spoke first, his voice quiet.
"Fellow examinees helping each other. We each get what we need."
He held out a stack of cards.
Their backs faced up, tilted at an angle.
Whichever hand the recipient reached with, it would not touch the hand offering the cards.
Kiyoshi did not take them.
He glanced at Kabuto, then at the stack, without a word.
The way he offered them was far too courteous.
Of all the kinds of courtesy Kiyoshi had encountered, this was the most expensive.
Kabuto did not hurry him. He simply