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“zaShunina!”
An entrance into the impenetrable wall of Kado rapidly opened before Shindo Kojiro, who stepped inside without hesitation.
He walked deeper in, his footsteps echoing oddly in the unearthly, empty space, his eyes scanning for the lone resident of this place.
He found him, Yaha-kui zaShunina, seated in a chair of his own making, surrounded by books, one of them held open in his hands. He looked up when he heard Shindo approach.
“Shindo.” He closed his book. His eyes fell upon the small pile of books and paper in Shindo's hands. “More books?”
“Yes, but something else, too,” Shindo replied, closing the distance between them unhurriedly.
zaShunina gazed at him, curiosity in his eyes. Shindo stepped up to the table that had been set up there, set down his small load, and spread it out across the surface. zaShunina stood fluidly, and walked to join Shindo at the table.
Shindo sat down, cross-legged, and zaShunina mimicked him. zaShunina gazed down at the materials that had been placed on the table thoughtfully.
“There's something I'd like to share with you today,” Shindo began.
“With me?”
“You've shared so much with us,” Shindo smiled, “I can't properly return the favor, but I'd like to share a little of what humanity can do.”
“I have seen a lot of what mankind has accomplished. It is remarkable.” zaShunina looked at one of the books. “Origami?”
“Yes,” Shindo nodded. “It's kind of a hobby of mine.”
“Hobby?”
“An activity that a person does in their spare time, when they're not working. Like reading books.”
“I read books to learn more about mankind. It is a necessity.”
“Are there any books that you read just because you like them?” Shindo asked, looking at zaShunina.
zaShunina paused, thinking. “I like works of fiction, about worlds unlike this one.”
“Really?” Shindo said, leaning in.
“Yes. Your kind hasn't imagined the anisotropic, not quite, but the worlds your kind has imagined are impressive, and fascinating.”
“We like to imagine and place ourselves in worlds that are different than our own,” Shindo agreed. “Sometimes better than our own. Places where we aren't so limited.”
“So if this world were improved, would those kind of stories go away?”
“No, I don't think so,” Shindo replied, shaking his head. “Mankind's curiosities won't disappear that easily. There will always be those who wish to explore worlds different than their own, even if only in their imaginations.”
“I see.”
zaShunina fell into a thoughtful silence.
“Anyway,” Shindo said, picking up one of the books and setting it aside, “I'd like to show you my hobby today.”
“Origami.”
“Mm,” Shindo said, “it's a form of creative paper folding. I've been practicing it since I was a child.”
“Paper folding? Like the Wam?”
Shindo thought back to his successful first attempt at making Wam, remembered the delighted look in zaShunina's eyes. “Yes, like that. Except this is more of an art than a science.”
zaShunina scooted closer. “Show me.”
A feeling of pride bubbled up in Shindo's chest. “Alright. Watch closely.”
He opened the packet of origami paper, delicately slipping out a single white sheet. Flattening the sheet on the table, Shindo folded the paper in half exactly, pressing the fold into a crease, then opened and turned the sheet, folding it in half again. Shindo continued to fold, zaShunina's watchful eyes on his hands, observing silently.
Soon – with zaShunina's facial expression becoming more awed with every move – the paper took shape, and with one last fold it took its final form – a crane.
Shindo placed it in the palm of his hand, holding it up for zaShunina to see. “See? This is a paper crane. With origami, paper can be folded into the shapes of many animals, plants, and objects. Here,” he said, handing the crane to zaShunina.
ZaShunina took the crane from him with care, examining it, but not daring to touch it further. “May I try it?”
“Of course, that's why the books are here,” Shindo replied, handing zaShunina one of them. Origami for Beginners. “It's best to start with simple ones first, then work your way up to more complex ones, like the crane.”
“Understood.”
zaShunina set down Shindo's crane, opened the book and began to scan it thoroughly.
“Here you go,” Shindo said, sliding a packet of patterned origami paper toward him. “I'll join you.”
zaShunina looked over at Shindo, and nodded. Shindo looked over at the opened book in front of him. “Let's start with the frog.”
They began folding, Shindo gently guiding zaShunina through the steps and showing him his techniques as they created various animals and flowers.
It was during quiet moments like this, alone with zaShunina, that Shindo's mind would wander – to his current situation, and what the right thing to do was. zaShunina's own words echoed in his mind:
To keep thinking. That's the only right answer in the world.
So that's what he did.
Firstly his mind wandered back to a dilemma that had yet to completely disappear: Why did Yaha-kui zaShunina come here? To advance humanity, yes, but what does he have to gain from that? What motivated him to come to Earth in the first place, now? Were his motivations truly pure and benevolent?
“Shindo.”
Shindo looked over, and saw an over-folded, unworkable sheet of paper in front of zaShunina, zaShunina looking down at it with a soft frown.
“Paper is difficult,” the anisotropic being observed.
Shindo chuckled softly. “Ah, the fibers in the paper weaken if it's folded too many times. Here, have a new piece,” he said, handing him another sheet of origami paper.
zaShunina nodded his thanks, and returned to his work, folding with more care than before.
Shindo went back to his own craft, regrouping his thoughts. He had a difficult time believing that zaShunina could be malevolent in any way – he was too earnest, too sincere for that. As for his motives, that was something that would be brought up in time. He didn't feel any need to rush it, to fracture the trust that had been established between them.
That aside, there was another issue – his feeling of ease around zaShunina.
Why did he feel so comfortable around this otherworldly being? Even he himself had to admit, once he stepped back and thought about it, that it was odd, to say the least. Was zaShunina influencing him, his body and mind, through anisotropic channels? Was he not the impartial go-between that he thought himself to be after all?
Or, had zaShunina merely modeled himself after Shindo, like a baby bird imprinting upon the first creature it sees, mimicking its every move? This was a strong possibility – zaShunina had taken human form before his very eyes, and was the first human he had connected with. It was little wonder that he had taken after Shindo in many ways, adopting his turns of phrase and his calm, easygoing demeanor.
What then... was his true personality? Or, was this a blend of both his own and what he had learned from Shindo?
He thought back to that day, that moment when zaShunina took shape in front of him – remembered how vulnerable zaShunina had made himself. How the first part of him to appear was not his bones, not his brain, not a scaffolding of flesh – it was his heart.
How, when asked why he chose Japan, out of all the places on Earth, he replied that it was because of the country's 'heart', its communal caring for others.
zaShunina had laid himself bare for humanity, put his trust in them to do the right thing.
Yaha-kui zaShunina was a force for good, Shindo was sure of it.
“Shindo.”
zaShunina's voice had a cheerful lilt to it this time, and when Shindo looked over to him, he saw in his outstretched, disembodied hand, a perfect origami cube, its paper printed with a multi-colored pattern.
“Ahh, good work. It looks like Kado,” Shindo smiled. He held out his hand to take the cube – zaShunina obliged, placing the cube in Shindo's palm. He examined it, turning it left and right and tilting it over – he found only perfection, its sides and corners smooth and clean.
“I want to try making a crane,” zaShunina said.
“Alright,” Shindo said, setting down the paper cube and turning to face zaShunina fully. The other book he had brought along, Advanced Origami, was open in front of zaShunina.
“Eager, huh,” Shindo noted with amusement. “Well, a good place to start is by practicing the inside reverse fold.”
“I have grasped the theory of it, but in practice it is challenging,” zaShunina replied, almost sheepishly.
Shindo recalled the over-folded sheet of origami paper – it reminded him of his first attempts at making a crane, as a child. “Here, I'll show you. Sometimes it's better to see how it's done than to read it.”
“Mm,” zaShunina replied, leaning in as Shindo took a sheet of origami paper and began to fold, slowly, scarlet eyes closely watching his hands at work. Shindo explained and demonstrated the finer points of the technique for zaShunina, until he was finished making yet another crane, in red paper this time.
“Ready to try it on your own?” Shindo asked.
“Yes. I understand it now.” zaShunina took a sheet of blue paper and began to fold it carefully, thoughtfully, taking care not to make any wrong moves.
Shindo spoke up then. “It is said that if a person folds one thousand paper cranes, their wish will come true.”
“What is a wish?” zaShunina asked. “I have read it in books, but the meaning is unclear to me.”
Shindo was unsurprised – what would a highly advanced being like zaShunina need with wishes? He took a breath.
“Well, we humans can control very little of what happens in our world. But, we like to feel like we can reach some force in the universe, with our sheer will alone, and convince it to move things in our favor. That is what a wish is. A person's greatest hope or desire, pushed out into the universe in one way or another, in the hopes that their sincerity will be enough to turn events in their favor, making their wish come true.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. He chanced a glance at zaShunina’s face, which subtly displayed a mixture of interest and confusion. “Some wish on certain objects, a certain time of day, or on stars in the sky,” he added, “but they're just different methods of the same thing. A wish on its own doesn't usually come true, but, if followed with a person's own efforts, it is more likely to become a reality.”
“Can't a person rely on their own efforts alone?” zaShunina asked, his brows softly furrowed.
“Not always. Say a situation is ninety-five percent within a person's control. A wish could cover the remaining five percent.”
“Understood,” zaShunina replied. “Is it like a prayer, then?”
“In a way,” Shindo answered. “It's not directed at any god in particular, just toward the universe as a whole, or even toward a single person who has the ability to make that wish come true.”
“I see.” zaShunina kept folding. “Why one thousand?”
“Hmm... I think it's more about the effort put into doing so, than the exact amount. It's quite the undertaking to fold even one hundred cranes. To put in that much effort, for the sake of a single wish, is a test and proof of one's sincerity, and their strength of will. No one would fold one thousand cranes for a simple, ordinary wish – and it only counts if one folds them all by hand, themselves.”
“How many people have done so?”
“Not many.”
zaShunina focused on his folding, Shindo watching his pale fingers' exacting, fluid movements. Soon, with one last fold, the paper crane was complete, its wings spread and its head held high.
“You did it,” Shindo said with praise. “It looks good.”
zaShunina set down the blue crane next to Shindo's red one, their beaks nearly touching.
“I like origami,” zaShunina said.
Shindo's eyes lit up. “I'm glad to hear it. I can get you as much paper as you want.”
“Thank you, Shindo.” zaShunina looked at Shindo, whose eyes had fallen upon the pair of paper cranes. “You can keep them, if you want.”
Shindo looked up at him in surprise. “Ah, thank you, but are you sure you don't want to keep yours?”
“It is fine. I can make more.”
“That's the spirit.”
The table they were seated at was now speckled with colorful origami creations of various shapes and sizes. A smile tugged at Shindo's lips at the sight – so warm and familiar, in the middle of this alien place.
“Thank you for showing me this,” zaShunina said. “For sharing another piece of humanity with me.”
“I'm happy to do it. It was fun for me, too.”
Not just the paper folding, or being able to share a part of humanity's creation with this anisotropic being – but seeing the childlike wonder in zaShunina's eyes, as he watched flat sheets of paper change form in Shindo's hands.
This may not have been the most professional or productive of visits, but Shindo valued moments like this with zaShunina – relaxed, easy, pleasant time spent together, where Shindo could get a sense of who zaShunina is, and where zaShunina could get to know his – and humanity's – perspective better.
Who knew how much time they would have to do things like this?
–-
After speaking with Tsukai, Shindo now questioned his previous presumptions about zaShunina, and the promise of the anisotropic. Bag of drinks in hand, he sought to have a dialogue with him, to answer the questions that had floated to the surface of his mind.
“zaShunina!”
Kado caught him up in a flash, capturing him and pulling him to the top of the cube, letting him go to reveal zaShunina, standing before him with his back turned.
“Did you have to do it like that?” Shindo said wearily.
zaShunina ignored his question, instead pointing with a disembodied arm to the white bag he carried. “What is that?”
Shindo held up the bag with a smile. “I have something to discuss with you.”
“There's something I'd like to discuss with you, as well.” zaShunina turned his head back to look at Shindo. Shindo couldn't quite read his expression.
–-
Deep inside Kado, Shindo walked straight to their usual meeting place. zaShunina had disappeared shortly after their drinks and discussion, saying simply: “Follow me.”
As zaShunina had not yet broached the subject of what he himself wanted to discuss with Shindo, Shindo complied, following him into the depths of the fractal structure.
“zaShunina!” Shindo called, as he stepped into the makeshift library.
“Shindo.”
Shindo turned, and gasped.
Upon the piles of books, surrounding the chair in the middle of them, covering every available flat surface, were multitudes of paper cranes, in every color and pattern that origami paper came in. Everywhere he looked, the handmade birds were there.
In the middle of it all, sat Yaha-kui zaShunina. Shindo stood before him, frozen in place.
One of zaShunina’s arms floated to him, placing a red crane in his hands.
The anisotropic being spoke.
“My wish...”
zaShunina looked up at Shindo, his eyes alight.
“...is for you to stay with me.”