Shisui's words had sunk in.
The next day, he went to school as usual.
April of Year 59. A new term.
It was still the same desk, with a stack of new textbooks tied with hemp cord on the upper right corner.
There was no graduation order, no special class. All they handed out was a new timetable.
The roster was passed around for checking.
When his name was called, it was still under his old grade.
When his own entry reached him, he glanced at it and passed the roster on.
He had moved forward. And he was still sitting in this same chair.
The wooden sign outside the Mediation Office had been repainted twice in two years.
Joint-duty notices from the Konoha Military Police Force arrived one after another, all piling up with Mikoto.
There were two commendations: one for diligent patrols, one for swift mediation.
Mikoto put the commendations on the top shelf of the cabinet and locked it.
Two groups of children had come and gone in the Future Association.
The tall one from the first group had finished his apprenticeship. The youngest newcomer could recite half the Clan Rules without stumbling over the section on founding the clan for winter.
"My family's firewood stack reaches the eaves now," one child reported during roll call.
"My brother finishes his apprenticeship next month. He's teaching me carpentry."
The clatter of wooden tags being flipped filled the air.
"The back door's fixed. No more drafts in winter." The child who had looked up to ask him a question last year gave the loudest report.
From beneath the veranda, Kiyoshi answered, "I'll put that down to your credit."
The courtyard rang with updates. No one thought there was anything unusual about them.
When the Academy report cards came out,