At the edge of the Toyotomi Clan Grounds, the side hall used for storing odds and ends had been temporarily cleared out.
Several old tables had been pushed together into a makeshift counter. Behind it sat a shrewd-looking, middle-aged bookkeeper from the Toyotomi House, holding a writing brush and a register.
There was little heat in the hall, and each exhaled breath turned white.
Two fairly short lines had already formed outside, sparsely populated, with only a dozen or so people between them.
One line consisted mostly of children ranging from seven or eight to twelve or thirteen, dressed in patched but freshly washed coarse-cloth clothes. Their little faces were red from the cold, but their eyes shone with apprehension and hope. Most had an equally shabbily dressed, uneasy adult beside them-a father or mother, or occasionally a very elderly-looking grandparent.
The other line was much quieter, with only three or four children, but they were noticeably better dressed. Their accompanying parents looked far more composed, even somewhat appraising. These were Toyotomi clan members bringing their own children of the appropriate age to register.
Sakura Haruno stood in the shadows at one side of the hall, watching the scene.
Toyotomi Yinglang had told her to come "take a look"-to see how the Toyotomi House's "Martial Arts Hall" recruited students.
Registration was simple: name, age, address, and what the family did for a living. Then came the most important step-
Without looking up, the bookkeeper said in a flat voice, "Six years' tuition, paid in full upfront. Ten strips of cured pork, or the equivalent in money, grain, or cloth. Leave the goods, register, and assemble at the training ground at the western end of the clan grounds tomorrow at a quarter to six in the morning. Bring your own bowl