"Kubo, where.. did you get this?" Sariatu repeats the question, reading through the pages again.
She nervously scrutinizes them, as though hoping they were something else entirely.
But there's no doubt about it, the pages are the same pale hue of baby blue.
And right then and there, Sariatu says what's been on everyone's mind:
"These are your grandfather's journal entries. Where did you find them?"
"...It was him, he found them." Kubo fibs clumsily, pointing to the origami samurai.
Little Hanzo was an origami creation of Kubo's, crafted to find things he could not.
But the paper samurai merely shrugs, and Sariatu isn't buying it anyway.
"I found it in the attic." Kubo confesses sheepishly.
"This is the entry about the Orient Express, very intense stuff for a child." His mother remarks, her tone doubtful.
"But a smart child nonetheless, who's managed to read this far." Hanzo muses matter-of-factly.
"Mother, I know you told me Grandfather st