Iruka set a last note, an apology and invitation for ramen, on top of the pile, watching it slide partway down the pile. It had been folded and unfolded so many times it was falling apart, and the edges were tattered and torn. There was a swish and a click and a lighter was held near the base of the pile. Flames slowly moved from the lighter to the pile, and then the papers were burning. Memories from almost a year disappeared in a heartbeat, corners blackening and turning inwards, white paper turning to crumbling ash.

Iruka poked at the top papers carefully, pushing them down into the flames, then reached out across the counter. Another letter was grabbed and tossed on the top, above the last note from Kakashi. As the corners curled up and the paper burned through the middle words were briefly illuminated. “Umino Iruka. We regret to inform you-”