Chapter Text
It would be generous to say that the distorted paper figure in Shouto’s hand is a crane.
He examines the little red-patterned “bird” more closely, wondering where he had gone wrong. He had followed the directions carefully. Maybe his creases had been too sloppy?
If Katsuki were conscious, he would probably blow the thing up in disgust, then produce his own perfectly folded bird.
Shouto never failed to be surprised at Katsuki’s hidden skills, and there was no reason to think that origami would be any different.
Shouto stares at the 999 remaining pieces of paper and the ugly little bird he had made.
Patience yields focus, he says to himself, remembering a saying from an old animated television show he and Katsuki had once watched together. Shouto didn’t think it made very much sense, but he needs both patience and focus now, so he chants it in his head as a mantra.
His second attempt is a little better, but the “head” is still squashed. Shouto studies his hands. He thinks they look strong, though they could not compare with Katsuki’s, whose devastating power could be traced in his palms. Shouto cannot understand where his clumsiness is coming from, why he fumbles each small piece of paper. Children fold paper cranes. He can do this.
He only has 998 left before he can make his wish.