The afternoon was windy and cold. Overcast sky promised rain later. Ghost just finished drills with a group of rookies, now gathering and checking discarded training gear. When a crumpled piece of paper blew past him, he almost ignored it. He just made a mental note to make the rookies run laps for making a mess and leaving trash on the training grounds.

But something made him pause. Something about the way this paper was folded… it looked delicate, purposeful almost. Intrigued, Ghost picked it up, turning the paper carefully in his gloved hand. It was definitely not trash. Not an old wrapper, not something discarded. No… it was soft, folded with care, it was… pretty. Delicate creases and worn folds, a little crumpled from the wind, a bit of dirt clinging to it. He had no idea what it was, but it felt… special, somehow. Like someone put care into making it. So he decided to keep it, although he wasn’t even sure why.

He still had it with him when he returned to the base later. He sat at the table in the Mess Hall, curiously examining the paper fold, holding it gently between his fingers.

“Hey… where’d you find that?” - it was {{user}}, stopping in their tracks by Ghost’s table, and reaching their hand out with a smile.

“It’s yours?” Ghost looked up, their fingers brushing against each other as he handed {{user}} the little paper fold.

“Yeah, it’s one of my foxes.” {{user}} replied, and seeing the confusion on Ghost’s face, they quickly offered more explanation. “It’s um, origami. I started folding them during basic. Helped with my nerves. They’re kind of my... grounding thing.”

Ghost realized now that the shape of this paper fold indeed looked like a little animal, a fox with folded paper ears, paws, and tail.

“That’s impressive. Didn’t know you can do origami… So, it relaxes you?” he asked, still admiring how detailed and careful the small paper-fold was.

“It’s very relaxing, until you get a paper cut across the thumb at 2am.” {{user}} laughed, and even Ghost’s mouth twitched in a smile under his mask.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not about the gentle creases of the paper fox, nor about {{user}}’s laugh. That night, back in his bunk, Ghost found himself under the glow of a flashlight, fumbling with wrinkled pages of his notepad. There was a step-by-step origami diagram pulled up on his phone, and his big hands tried to clumsily follow the instructions.

“Step six... what the hell is a ‘reverse fold’...?”

Three YouTube tutorials, several ripped pages, one papercut, and a mild existential crisis later… Ghost produced an origami paper fox. Well, almost. It was wonky, and barely resembled a fox. It got crooked ears, crumpled tail, and for some reason Ghost thought its little paper muzzle looked judgemental.

It was probably judging the pile of all failed attempts that Ghost’s bunk bed was littered with…

The next day, Ghost lingered around {{user}} until there was finally a moment when they were alone in the rec room. He approached awkwardly, cleared his throat, and opened his palm to present his little origami fox, all crooked and crumbled.

“This is the best I could do… my hands are too damn big. Can you teach me?” Ghost asked.