The record keeper picked up the sheet of white paper at the corner of the table and laid it in the middle.
It scraped against the tabletop as he lifted it, its edge sliding along the table before he spread it flat.
A paperweight pressed down on the bottom of the sheet, its corners neatly aligned.
The paper was freshly cut, its edges still rough from the blade.
The brush dipped into ink and moved along the ruler.
One line, then another. The ruler pressed against the paper, leaving a faint impression as it moved.
The grid took shape slowly, its lines straight and square.
Box after box filled more than half the page.
A line had been left at the top. Once the grid was finished, the brush returned there and wrote.
The first line still held his name.
Another line had been added beneath it, with an empty box at the end.
Kiyoshi sat and raised his eyes.
His gaze settled on that line for only a moment before dropping again.
The ink had already soaked into the paper, the edges of the strokes drying dark.
The sheet lay smooth, with no sign that the brush had just touched it.
Once something went into that box, it could not be taken back. To change it, they would have to replace the whole sheet.
The ledger lay open at the far end of the table, turned to the section for recording names.
The first name in that section was still his.
A new line had been added beneath that name, too.
The ink was equally dark in both places.
One brush moved over the ledger, another over the gridded sheet.
The door stood half open, and footsteps passed through the corridor, one set after another.
All of them headed