The morning breeze came in through the cracks in the window first and moved close to the ground, cooling the table legs very quickly.
The long table was moved under the window, and the tabletop was wiped again, leaving scratches one after another.
The moisture has not yet gone away, but there is a layer of moisture on the edge of the table, and the wood grain is deep.
The guard outside the door moved to the corridor, his shoes were pressed together, and he stopped talking.
There is a value book spread out on the table, towards the back.
The cover has been changed, the new paper is flat, the smell of paste is suppressed by the smell of ink, and the corners are still warped.
There is only a pen beside the book.
The side where the grid paper was laid out first is empty this time.
The corners of the volume are rounded, and the page-turning end is hairy.
The duty officer stood beside the table, straightened the books, and pushed the stool half an inch under the table.
Step back half a step, put your hands back into your sleeves, and stand still.
The piece of paper rested on the corner of the table.
The creases are pressed very flat, the edges of the paper are soft, and one end rests under the corner of the volume.
Kakashi brought someone in, his footsteps paused on the threshold, and the door was not closed after entering.
The name slips of the team were handed to the table, and the guard on duty checked the list again, but the check was very slow.
After checking, Kakashi raised his hand and closed the cover of the registration book.
He took his hand back, but he didn't move.
The people who had been brought stood in a line on the other side of the door, shoulder to shoulder, and made no sound.
Mikoto stood on the other side of the door, not coming to the table or answering the phone.
Shisui stood against the wall, a few steps away from the edge of the table, his hands hanging on his sides, not coming towards the table.
The duty officer raised his chin toward the stool and stepped aside.
The stool opposite was empty, and there were no cloth strips tied to the legs.
Kiyoshi walked past the door, not walking very fast, and turned around only when he reached the other end of the table.
The bench was cold, so he sat down.
He sat down and looked at no one for the first time.
His eyes fell on the pen beside the book.
Then he moved to the empty side and paused for a breath.
The person opposite had his sleeves rolled up, and there was no paper on hand, so the inkstone was placed next to the book.
No one on the other side spoke.
There was only the book and the piece of paper on the corner of the table, nothing else.
Mikoto stood by the door for a while and then left first.
He didn't wait for the question to come down.
There are piles of cut white paper on the edge of the table, and the piles are pressed neatly.
He drew the top one and dragged it in front of him.
Let him pick up the pen.
The tip of the pen touched the edge of the inkstone. The ink hung on the tip and was collected evenly. The shaft of the pen felt warm in the palm of my hand and was still cold.
During the half-breath when the pen tip was hanging, there was no one in the room to urge him. The hand opposite him rested on the edge of the book and the ink surface in the inkstone was flat. He straightened the paper half an inch before he started writing. He drew a line from the beginning to the end of the page and turned around to frame that paragraph. The line at the end of the page was left outside. He kept his wrist flat when he was running the line.
The line is drawn sparingly and cleanly both up and down.
The place where the line ends is one finger away from the space at the end of the page.
There are no words added in the line.
After finishing the painting, put the pen back to the edge of the book, with the tip of the pen facing the inkstone.
"How far can I prove it?"
The person on the other end didn't answer the call.
The hand on the opposite side lifted from the edge of the book, then fell back and landed on the edge of the book.
He turned the paper another half turn so that the line was facing the opposite side.
I looked at it from the other side, but didn't reach out to pick it up.
Come over on duty, pick up this piece of paper, and hold it flat with both hands.
The paper is placed on the corner of the table, next to the first one, with the edges aligned.
Two pieces of paper lay side by side, one with old creases and one with newly drawn lines.
The interviewer pulled the register in front of him and flipped it forward.
Turning to that page, Wen Xi's hand stopped.
On the page that was opened, two lines of "Watch" were combined into one line, occupying the center of the page.
The parallel ink is dark and presses against the old ink at the two ends below.
One line of old ink at both ends is at the top of the page, and one line is at the end of the line. The timings fall on the same time, the words also match, and even the timings for substitutions are consistent.
The next line of ink came down straight, not crooked.
There is a small seal stamped at the end of the two rows, with different printing colors.
The paper on that page is whiter than the pages next to it.
The paperweight was moved to the footer and pushed aside.
After looking at it for a long time, the penholder stood up between his fingers and the pen tip hung on the railing.
The tip of the pen fell into the column on the side.
That column is opened at the edge of the page, and the column line is only half a finger away from the edge of the page.
There is writing at the top of the column. The writing is smaller than the writing on the line, and the ink is still fresh.
"Both places match up."
The pen was walking in the column, but it was not moving very fast, so I stopped it one stroke at a time.
The ink added to the column follows the movement.
Don't follow the name.
The line of ink in the column is collected inside the opening of the column.
After memorizing, the previously blank column now has lines, and the ink is still bright and wet.
Kiyoshi looked at the column across the corner of the table without making a sound, with his hands on his knees.
After finishing the column, I didn't lift the pen when I asked the question.
Follow that line and move to the end of the fence.
The tip of the pen rested on the empty half of the end of the railing.
"Who will fall behind the fence?"
Shisui came half a step from the wall, his cuffs hanging down.
There was no sound when he landed halfway.
Shisui is standing on the side of the table, close to the column.
He raised his hand from his side and landed flat on that column.
His fingers were still pressing on the empty space at the end of the column, but they didn't leave the column line and didn't touch the words.
"Ask according to the paper."
Wen Xi raised his eyes and looked at the hand, then at the ink in the column.
After looking at it, his hand stopped.
The pen tip left the end of the fence and moved back into the fence.
The room was quiet for a while, until it reached the end of the corridor.
Someone passed by in the corridor, but didn't come in.
The bottom half of the column was empty and no one filled it in.
The back of the person's hand pressed against the edge of the book and made a seal.
Kiyoshi didn't look at Shisui, nor did he answer the question. His eyes were still on that column.
He took his hand away from the paper and put it back on his lap.
Wen Xi turned the book back one page, turning slowly.
Turn it back again and stop where the two lines are together.
I put the pen down and did not go to the end of the fence or anywhere else.
After waiting for a while, he raised his eyes and looked across the table.
"Which paragraph can be verified?"
After asking, he didn't push me.
The moisture on the edge of the table has dried, and the ink surface in the inkstone has become flat again.
The duty officer took back the paper with the aisle drawn from the corner of the table and held it in both hands.
The paper is laid out on the edge of the volume, with the line running up, facing the adjacent rows, and the corner of the paper pressing against the edge of the volume.
He looked at the paper back in front of him.
He stretched out his hand and pushed it back.
The hand that pushes the paper is very steady.
He put his finger against the corner of the paper and pushed it all the way across the edge of the table. The paper slid halfway out of his hand and then stopped. One end was facing the invitation seat and the other was facing the two old papers at the corner of the table.
"If you want to ask questions in the future, follow this method."
Wen Xi stopped while looking at the paper, and after half a breath, he pushed the book forward.
Wen Xi picked up his pen and put another stroke into that column. The stroke was lighter than the first one.
The added stroke was at the end of the line. After finishing the stroke, the pen was put down without raising the head.
Kakashi is still at the reporting position, standing and not retreating.
When the conversation ended, those at the banquet table got up first.
The pen was placed back next to the inkstone, and the person went out from behind the table, pushing the stool back to its original position before going out.
When I went out, I didn't look towards the corner of the table.
When I was on duty, I put the inkstone into the tray, which was very flat.
After the inkstone was taken away, there were still books, pens, and two pieces of paper on the corner of the table, leaving most of the tabletop empty.
The book was left on the table, and I turned back to the page at the beginning. It was not closed, and there was a paperweight stamped on the edge of the page.
The page at the top is open, with the ink letters facing up.
Kakashi leads the people out.
The column on the other side of the door followed, the steps were in perfect order, and no one spoke.
The reporting area was empty, and there were a few shoe prints on the ground.
Shisui walked out from the wall.
The steps were as even as when he came back.
After everyone has gone out, the door is still open, the footsteps in the corridor are heard and gone, the two papers at the corner of the table are lying side by side and no one has taken them away, the first one has the old crease, and the new one is left on the other one. The register is spread out in the center of the table, the ink in that column has dried to a dark color, the section at the back of the column is still empty, the paperweight is still pressed at the foot of the page and no one has moved it, the pen is still lying sideways on the edge of the book, with the pointed end facing the inkstone.
He got up.
Passing by the table, he stopped walking.
The book is spread out on the top page. His name is at the top of the page, and the lines under his name are full.
The line at the end of the page is still empty.
He put his fingers together and flattened the page.
Only when it was flattened did he take back his hand.
The letterhead of the piece of paper at the corner of the table has been changed.
The question line above my head is gone.
There is a new line at the top of the page, with new ink, tighter strokes, and wider spacing than at the bottom.
The new ink only occupies the line above the head, and the old characters at the bottom remain unchanged.
There are no questions at the end of the line.
No one said who changed this line of business.
No one said who would own that one.
When I went out, the sound of footsteps in the corridor had faded, and the wind came from my back, bringing with it the coolness from outside.
The room was empty, the smell of ink still lingered, but the smell of paste faded away.
The row of new ink pressed against the old paper when you look up, and the white tail of the column is waiting for someone to fill it in.