Tobirama smiled, adjusted his glasses, and pulled out a scroll wrapped in yellow cloth.
He unfurled another scroll.
Kai sat in silence.
Then he whispered, “That’s a lot of episodes.”
Old Man Tobirama liked order. As the village’s unofficial archivist, he had counted everything—shuriken in the armory, cups of ramen eaten by Naruto in a month, even the times Sakura had punched a crater into the ground.
