"I'll show it to you again," said Haru, unflattening the creases of the palm-sized square, "so don't look so scared of it."

Daisuke's paper remained untouched on their table, thin and near translucent, still carrying its potential of becoming a crane.

"I'm not," he said, then kept quiet, because he did remember the steps; he'd always been a quick study, except now Haru's fingers were patient and precise, letting Daisuke study them, instead.