Not Just Paper (but a source of hope)

Summary: Five times Shun folded cranes himself and one time that he was prompted.

A plot bunny that attacked while I was folding 1000 cranes for an art project.

The next chapter will be the Gravity Falls AU, the Twilight AU or another drabble like this one. It all depends on whether or not I'll write a three-way duel (and school and life and motivation).

{~~~}

When Shun first heard the tale of Sasaki Sadako and the thousand paper cranes, he scoffed at it. The story was ridiculous. The girl died before she could finish making the cranes so why keep repeating the tale?

But still...he liked birds and he had a lot of spare time on his hands...

So Shun ripped a page out of his notebook and began folding.

The first crane was lopsided but recognisable and he would have a lot of practise leading up to the thousandth crane.

He still didn't know what he would wish for though.

{~~~}

When Heartland fell, paper cranes were the last things on his mind. The only birds that mattered were his Raidraptors, matching every pain those Fusion bastards had dealt to them with flaming claws.

But then he dislocated his shoulder. Ute and Ruri were moments away from tying him onto the infirmary bed due to his constant struggles...

...then he saw the wider effects of the invasion.

Some were like him, injured on the frontlines and healing before returning to battle. But there were others that would be forever bedridden, many from the first attack and even more from the oncoming waves.

The rage of his soul dimmed and sorrow rose. So much was lost in this war. They may be able to drive the invaders out but things will never be the same. He could never be the same. His dreams of the pro-league were nothing more than a distant memory. He could never think of Duel Monsters as an innocent card game anymore.

So he took a crumpled wrapper and began folding.

They were wrinkly but well formed. Shun had folded twelve before he ran out of paper.

The inner hatred against the invaders rekindled and he wished that those bastards would feel the hurt from every wound they had inflicted.

{~~~}

When Ruri disappeared, Shun's thoughts never strayed from his sister's possible fates. She was a fighter. She wouldn't go down so easily, so quietly. Somewhere in a obscure battlefield, Ruri would be knocking Fusion soldiers down like flies. If she had been captured, his sister would make her captors' lives hell.

But when someone went missing and didn't turn up after a couple of days, they weren't assumed to be fighting or captured. Fusion never took prisoners. And Ruri had been missing for nearly three weeks.

So Shun folded cranes. When he wasn't duelling or looking for Ruri, he was turning every scrap of paper he could find into an origami bird.

Other's in the Resistance called it an obsession. Ute called it hope.

Shun just kept wishing that his little sister would come back alive.

{~~~}

When Shun and Ute made their (stupid, crazy, irrational, suicidal, etcetera...) interdimensional leap into Standard, he didn't have the time to fold cranes. The Professor, the mad man that started this damned war, had a son in Standard. A brat that could be held for ransom for his little sister who was definitely being held captive by the Academia.

But then there was the meeting with Standard-Ruri, tricked into learning Fusion by an Academia spy. Then the Akaba brat revealed that he was against dear daddy's plan. And Shun chose the lesser evil and joined him.

So in his room (glided cage), Shun tore up the fancy textbooks for paper cranes with the wish that this won't blow up in his face.

{~~~}

When Shun couldn't contact Ute after the appearance of the Fusion Pawn, he scoured the city for his best friend. No alley was left unchecked, no corner left unturned.

But then Standard-Ute summoned Rebellion and Shun broke inside.

So he folded cranes with whatever paper was left in his cage. There were no wishes because wishes never came true. The birds were memorials for dreams never met, lives forever shattered and friends that were never coming back.

(But deep down he still hoped...)

{~~~}

When Shun regained consciousness, he was in a hospital bed. A proper one with an IV in his arm and a machine monitoring his heart. Nothing like the bloodstained mattresses the Resistance had to make do with (and Shun realised how spoiled he has become).

He wouldn't be held down by minor flesh wounds when there was a war to fight.

Dragging the IV out with him (pre-war stints at the hospital taught him that pulling out big needles from his arm was a definite no-no), Shun sunk out of his ward...

...But found the rest of Akaba's 'Lancers' planted on the other side of the curtain.

They were seated on a chequered picnic cloth, a pile of coloured paper in the centre of their circle. Their nonsensical chatter had stopped and all eyes were on him.

"Kurosaki. You should be resting." The wannabe samurai (with whom he felt a kinship that he would never admit with) said.

"It was only a few scratches." He scowled.

"And several broken ribs plus older wounds that did not heal correctly." Fusion-Ruri said. She had given up fiddling with a red square which was now a crumpled ball. "I was there when you fell."

Shun ignored her. He didn't need another sister imposter, especially one raised by the Academia (and he wondered if there was a Fusion-Ute running around).

"What are you doing?" he asked even though he already had a vague idea.

"We're making paper cranes!" Standard-Ute said. His was voice full of optimism but Shun knew there was no heart behind it. Ute still Ute regardless of what dimension he was in. It hurt.

The magician-clown (which looked uncomfortably familiar) gestured to the side. "Like in the tale of Sasaki Sadako. If you make a thousand, then your wish will be granted."

Shun's eyes followed the hand and land on a pile of...things. "Those are not cranes."

"What?!" the blond flop exclaimed a little too dramatically. "We've been working on these all morning! I, Neo New Sawatari, will not let hours of labour go to waste!"

"They still look like crap." Shun said. (He should really learn their names but naming something made you feel more attached, more hurt when it is lost.)

"Well I'd like to see you do better!"

A piece of purple paper, proper origami paper that he hadn't seen in years, was thrust into his hands.

So Shun folds it with practised ease. The paper became an elegant crane. It wasn't one of his best but next to the others, it was a masterpiece.

The flop gaped and the other Lancers looked impressed.

Standard-Ute just smiled, as if he knew of the hundreds Shun had folded in the past.

"So what's your wish?"

Shun considered not answering him, just dropping the crane and retreating to the comfy hospital bed.

But he cradled the bird and stayed.

"For the war to be over."

And a world that was still worth fighting for.