Author's Note: I hadn't realised that the spacing and time-skips had been screwed up when I uploaded the document, sorry about that... Anyway, fixed.


A Thousand Cranes

Sitting at the back of the classroom was relaxing and tiring at the same time.

For one, I could barely hear the teacher's pointless lecture while sitting at the back. That was certainly a plus. The other students had a harder time staring at me, as well. It was peaceful, having the chance to sit where no one bothered me. I felt not quite invisible, but like I was just barely there. It relaxed me.

But on the other hand, there was her.

She never payed much attention to the lecture either – that probably explained the terrible grades on all the test papers she liked to cut up during class. Snip, snip, snip. Always the same. She would spend her time cutting off squares of paper from tests, practice sheets, anything. And the noise was always infuriating, distracting me from my thoughts or from the few times I actually wanted to pay attention to the teacher. It was really inconsiderate.

At first, I thought she did it as some sort of angry or rebellious gesture – cutting off all the bad grades, the wrong answers marked in red, so that no one could see. I thought she didn't want anyone knowing that she was doing badly at school, that she cut up her papers so as to not have to tell her parents, or that she was just angry at the teacher for giving her such bad grades.

Snip, snip.

I was wrong.

I knew it as soon as she turned towards me for the first time during recess, an almost ridiculously large smile on her face. Without warning, she stood up and stepped up to my desk, holding out her hand and dropping something onto it before I had a chance to react. I just stared up at her, bewildered – what was this girl's problem?

"There! I finished it – I'll give this one to you, okay?"

"What are you-?" Before I could finish my question, she motioned for me to look down. A folded paper crane was sitting on my desk, lying on its side after she had dropped it. All I could do was stare at it in confusion – a crane? Why was this girl giving me a crane?

She laughed at my reaction, rocking on her heels in delight like a child. "Haven't you ever seen one before? I'll show you how to make them, if you like!"

"... No, thanks." I picked it up carefully, holding it up to examine it; sure enough, I could see the fifty-six marked and underlined in red she had just cut out from one of her tests.

"Oh... Well, do you like it?" she replied, beaming at me. "I thought, since you always look so gloomy and bored, I'd give it to you to cheer you up!"

Cheer me up? She was the one who spent all her time cutting up paper. Did she really have nothing better to do with her time?

"You know, you'd probably get better grades if you actually paid attention," I remarked, dropping the crane back on my desk nonchalantly. She blinked, her smile faltering slightly before regaining its energy.

"Hehe. I'm stupid, you know. It can't be helped." She didn't even miss a beat. She had no problem saying she was stupid – her smile didn't even leave her face. Was she really okay with saying something like that? "I've decided not to worry about it anymore! That's why I make these, instead," she added, happily pointing at her little crane.

All I could do was stare at her. There was definitely something off about her. Was she just dumb like she claimed? It sure seemed like it.

"Making paper cranes isn't going to get you anywhere."

"Oh, but don't you know?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together excitedly. "If you fold a thousand cranes, you get a wish! That's why... I'm going to take all these bad things," she said, gesturing behind her at the test papers on her desk, "and turn them into a wish!"

That was the most naïve thing I had ever heard. What was wrong with this girl?

"Don't you know that's just something people tell their kids to make them happy?"

"No, it's not! It's true!"

"Yeah, sure. Fine, then." I only rolled my eyes, turning away from her as the bell rung, warning everyone that class was about to start. I thought I heard a small sigh from her direction, but when I glanced back she was sitting at her desk folding up another square into a crane, that huge smile back on her face.

Wow... What an idiot. I leaned back in my seat as the teacher began his lecture, glancing at the paper crane still on my desk and sighing before flicking it off.


I...I can't... do this.

I can't.

All I could do was stare down at the railing, overlooking the school grounds. Overlooking all the other students, in pairs or groups, happily chatting as they walked towards the entrance.

I couldn't take it.

I had heard of people going through moments like this. But I didn't feel anger, or sadness, or anything. I didn't feel anything at all. I was numb, I was empty. Just like I always was, and everyone knew it. That was why they stared; they didn't care that I was the 'smart kid' in class, they didn't care that the teacher turned a blind eye whenever I wasn't paying attention to his lectures. They stared because I was empty. I didn't feel anything towards them; I didn't enjoy their company, I didn't want anything to do with them. I didn't want anything. So they learned to stay away, and I was always alone.

You're nothing but a fool. A callous, cold-hearted fool.

Glancing down at my hands, I noticed they were trembling – just a little, but they were, making the test paper I was holding shake and rattle with them. That stupid, perfect, hundred-score test paper. I tried telling myself it was just the chilly air making me shake, but I was never good at lying to myself. Sighing, I quietly began tearing the paper in my hands. I just stared at it, watching as the words printed on it became too torn to be visible, enjoying the sound of the paper ripping into shreds. Rip, rip, rip. It was relaxing.

Eventually I ended up with a small pile of torn paper in each of my hands, so I reached over the railing and let them fall. Leaning over the railing, watching the little pieces fluttering to the ground, vertigo suddenly rushed over me. I couldn't bring myself to look away, staring down at the pieces that lay motionless on the ground.

Great job on your test. I don't think I've seen anyone excel as much as you have.

"No."

You're doing so well in school, honey! I'm so proud of you!

"No. Stop."

Big brother, you're so smart... I wish I could do as well as you...

"Stop!"

I could hear them. I could hear all of their voices, so clearly in my head. Voices of people who didn't really care. All they saw were grades, perfect scores. All of them thought that because my test scores said so, then I must be perfect.

They're wrong. They're wrong!

I'm not perfect.

I'm far, far from perfect.

I could feel pain in my chest, feel my heart beating a bit too heavily. It would be easy... so easy to just lean a little too far over the railing. So easy to make it all go away.

And even if I did die, right here, right now... I'd just be replaced.

They didn't really care. No one really cared.

"Hey!"

I didn't even have the chance to turn around as I felt something soft wrap itself around my neck, pulling at my throat. I staggered back as I heard someone laughing behind me, and a turn of the head revealed who it was.

Her.

"What are you doing up here? Everyone's going home already!"

I stared at her, uncomprehending, incapable of doing much else than blink in shock. What was she doing here? How did she know I was on the roof?

She only smiled back, just like she usually did, and laughed as she stepped back, pulling at the ends of a bright red scarf that she had wrapped around my neck. I stumbled back in response, grumbling as she only laughed harder.

"You always look so grumpy! Come on, let's go downstairs, okay?"

"I-I don't- I don't need you around, all right?" I snapped back, probably a little more force than necessary. Her eyes seemed to widen slightly, and I thought I saw her hands trembling, but like always her smile stayed fixed on her face. Almost like it was painted – did she ever stop smiling?

"Ah... Hey, if that's how it is, then that's really boring. Don't you ever get bored with being alone all the time?" Her question wasn't meant to hurt – it was clear from her tone that she didn't mean to be snide or cynical. But it still pierced through me just as badly. I knew I was alone all the time – usually, I didn't care. I had just shrugged it off as people being intimidated or not wanting anything to do with me; I hadn't realised how much of it was actually me pushing people away.

Just like I had with her. And yet she wasn't giving up. She wasn't just leaving me alone like the others.

"I... I guess it does get a bit... boring. Sometimes." She grinned even wider at my response – if that was even possible.

"Then stop doing it! Come on – let's go downstairs together, okay?" With that, she turned and started heading for the stairs, leaving her crimson scarf still tightly wrapped around my neck.

I still don't know why she did it. I don't know what she saw in me, or how she knew I was on the roof – I have no idea why she tried to help me.

I don't even know if I'm glad she did, or if I'd rather she had stayed away like the others.


Sitting at the back of the classroom had been very relaxing for the past couple of months.

Ever since she had found me up on the roof, she had gotten closer and closer – and, to my own surprise, I let her. It was easier than I had imagined. She was warm, she was cheerful, she was energetic. Even though I never really let her know how much I liked having her around, I didn't try to push her away again. And even though she didn't show it either, I think she noticed.

There were some days when she wouldn't show up for class. No one seemed to bring it up, and it didn't seem like a big deal to anyone. Everyone was ill sometimes. But it was a big deal for me. I was always made painfully aware of how empty her desk looked when she wasn't there, and of how isolated I was from everyone else.

This was one of those days. I felt inexplicably uneasy every time my eyes wandered in the direction of her desk, and I had to force myself to look away and think of other things. Mindless, stupid things. Like the tests the teacher would be returning tomorrow, and my score that would be no higher than the last.

I heard the door sliding open, followed by the sound of footsteps and – crying? Turning my head, I noticed a small group of girls from my class walking in, postures slumped and tears slipping between fingers as their hands covered their faces. Not a few tears, either – these girls were openly sobbing. What was going on?

That was when I noticed the bundle of white flowers that one of them was carrying. Had someone...?

No. No, that can't be it.

I could feel my heart racing as my mind jumped to conclusions. That can't be why. She's fine. She's just ill. She's at home...

But the girls walked straight past me, heading for the window, for the empty desk sitting next to me.

The desk that would remain empty.

She was gone.


I had to force myself to get up every morning. Force myself to keep going to that same place, every single day, sitting at the exact same spot. All the others were lucky; they saw her desk, the vase with white flowers, only as they came in through the door. Then they would rapidly take their seats and never have to look at it again until they walked out.

I was the one that had to deal with her desk being right next to me. Between me and the window where my gaze naturally wandered. I was the one who saw those white petals fall onto the desk, one by one withering away.

Guess they never really cared about her, either.

All of them, they were comfortable with avoiding their eyes, with quickly dashing past her seat in order to get to theirs. They felt 'bad' that she was gone, that something had pushed her over the edge and caused her to jump. But they didn't care about her. She was just another face that they would never see again.

It was disgusting.

They had probably forgotten all about her. Forgotten about that smile that never left her face, or the way her hair flowed around her shoulders. Forgotten about her cheerfulness, her warmth, and all those little things that made her her.

It disgusted me, but at the same I envied them. I couldn't forget her. I couldn't let go. Everything felt so wrong without her there. It didn't even feel empty, like before – I would have been glad if everything had gone back to they way it was. No, it was more as if she had been replaced with nothingness; a tangible grief that dragged me down every time I saw those damned flowers withering on her desk.

I could have stopped this.

She was gone. She was gone and she was never coming back, and once those flowers were finally dead, no one would remember her.

I could have saved her.

I tried to focus on other things. I honestly did, but it was hopeless. She was always there, at the back of my head, nagging me.

She was crying that day.

Once again forcing myself to turn away from the window, I stared down at the test paper that had been set on my desk while I hadn't noticed. Lifting it up, I could see the hundred marked in red on the top right corner – just like always.

She was crying, and I left her alone.

I didn't know what to do.

I left her to die.

Gripping the paper tightly, I quickly stood up, not caring about the scraping noise the chair made as it was pushed back. Not caring about everyone's eyes suddenly being on me. Ignoring the teacher's confused calling, I turned my back on everyone and raced out of the room.

I'm sorry.


It was a week before I managed to summon the will to go back to school. Even then, it was only to please my mother; I had no interest in going. I never really did, but after she was gone, it was repulsive to have to stay in that room for so long.

Even then, I only managed to stay in school for a short while. I'm not sure exactly how long – maybe a week or two. After that, I just couldn't get out of bed in the mornings. It didn't matter how long I slept, or how many times my mother or my sister insisted that I get up – I just couldn't do it.

Not after finding one of her paper cranes tucked between the railings of the windowsill.

I had noticed something off while glancing at the window, and as I stepped closer, I saw it. It was smaller and more crumpled than her usual cranes, and it was covered in tape – as if she had ripped the paper several times while trying to make it. But as I picked it up to inspect it, I noticed the red hundred-score scrawled on one of the wings.

It wasn't one of her test papers. It was one of mine.

She had gathered all the torn pieces, taped them together, and made a crane out of them.

I'm going to take all these bad things... and turn them into a wish!

I was never able to go back to school after that. I could barely find the energy and willpower to leave the house – and eventually, I stopped leaving altogether. I realised that there was nothing out there for me anymore. Not with her gone.

Because no one else had ever cared.

I still don't know why she did it. I don't know what she was hiding behind that painted smile of hers – I don't even know what she wanted to wish for, folding all those cranes. Did it really matter? She was gone. And it was all my fault for not getting closer to her that day after school, when after glancing into the classroom I found her crying at her desk.

Still, I didn't really know how to let go. I never have. My sharp mind might have helped me get good scores in school, but it worked against me with situations like this. Always thinking about what could have been, what I should have done.

I continued to mull that over as I sat quietly at my desk, hunched over the piece of paper in my hands. It had taken a long time, but finally I was close to finishing.

I couldn't help the sad little smile that tugged at my lips as I finally finished folding my thousandth paper crane, setting it down with the others as I leaned back to admire it.

I wish those days had never ended.