Apple Peel

"What are you doing, Tenten?" Lee approached to watch her hands as she skillfully worked on a napkin.  

It was a sunny afternoon. The air was warm, cozy, and pleasant. The fresh breeze carried a green scent, lifting the leaves and letting them fall slowly into the corners as it dissipated. Lee caught one in his hand before it landed on one of the gyozas Tenten had brought. The three of them sat on a blanket in the hospital garden, while other patients, accompanied by caregivers, strolled around the building, enjoying the fresh air.

Neji and Tenten had dropped by to update Lee on Gai's latest missions, and ended up staying to pass the time. 

"Origami." She said. The boy hummed in acknowledgment, cocking his head. "They symbolize different things." Gradually, the folds in the paper began to form something that looked like a duck. Or was it a goose? A… “This, for example, is for good luck and health,” Tenten said as she finished the last fold, displaying the origami in the palm of her hand.

Lee furrowed his brows, still trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“It’s a tsuru…” Tenten clarified before he could ask.

“Woah!” He beamed. “So, if I make a thousand of them, maybe I’ll get enough luck to recover quickly!”

Lee grabbed a napkin, shaking off the sandwich crumbs that covered it.

“They say if you make a thousand, you can have a wish granted.” Tenten placed the tsuru between them. "But a thousand? That’s a lot to do at once." She chuckled.

The tension around Konoha could hang so thick, but the company of the people dearest to Lee seemed to shield him from any negative feeling that wasn’t hope. He had been in the best of spirits since the incident during the Chuunin Exams. Lee could be a very warm-hearted person in every sense, full of unwavering dreams, but everyone had caught a glimpse of the flickering flame almost going out. It was frightening. Truly frightening. They kept him far too busy with what was within reach. Of course, there were times when they showed up very little, going two or three days without appearing due to missions. But as quickly as depression would seize him, it would be driven away when Tenten and Neji showed up with Gai — or just two, or just one of the three.

“It’s hard, but it's not impossible, right?” he said confidently, as he began trying the first folds.

He vaguely remembered some techniques… one fold here… or was it there? No, that wasn’t right. Not even close. He decided to start over, glancing at Tenten’s tsuru for reference. But he had no idea where to begin. He didn’t know what started where, or vice versa. What Lee did know was that there were many folds, and folds on top of folds, and even more—folds over those other folds.

In the midst of his attempts, he created many things, but none of them were a tsuru.

After his tenth torn napkin, it became clear that Lee had no skill in this.

“I learned from Neji.” Tenten nudged him with her elbow, both of them now looking at the Hyuuga, who was calmly sipping tea a few paces away, sheltered by the shade of a tree. “Maybe he can help.”

Neji raised an eyebrow at the sudden attention from the two.

"Hm?"

“Neji." Lee clenched his fist, crumpling the crane—or at least it was supposed to be one. "If I can't make a thousand tsurus by the end of the afternoon, I'll have to make two thousand by sunrise…”

"Why on earth did you increase the number when you can’t even make one properly?" Tenten murmured, narrowing her eyes at the pile of torn napkins. "Jeez..."

Neji gently set his tea down on the small green porcelain saucer and moved closer to Lee, examining the mortal remnants of all the napkins that, in theory, should have turned into cranes. He picked up one that wasn’t completely ruined. "It's not that difficult," he said in his usual impassive tone. “Here, look closely—” Lee leaned in, watching his hands intently. 

With almost mechanical precision, Neji began to fold the paper. His fingers seemed to know exactly where to make each crease, as if it were as natural as breathing. Lee got lost in the explanation, but he had always been better at the practical side than the theoretical. What surprised him, however, was Neji’s knack for this kind of thing. It seemed like something he would excel at, like nearly everything he set his mind to. For a moment, this made Lee wonder what Neji enjoyed doing in his free time. They had known each other for so long, yet it felt like they hardly knew each other at all. Everything between them seemed quite superficial.

Lee's gaze wandered across his face as he thought more deeply about it, focusing on the white eyes and the long lashes that partially veiled them when they were half-closed, a look he wore whenever he was deep in concentration. Neji seemed content with simple, quiet things, like drinking tea and making origami on a sunny afternoon. Not exactly what you'd expect from Lee—he always thought about getting stronger and faster, even in his free time. Well, Neji seemed to take pleasure in doing things an elderly person might enjoy. Or was that just a preconceived notion because he came from such a traditional family? Nah. He did have the soul of an old man.

A grouchy old man.

Lee enjoyed piecing together the little fragments that Neji let slip, like someone fishing for a secret, though.

"Focus." Lee is brought back with a snap of fingers in front of his face.

"I am focusing!" Lee retorted, stiffening his shoulders.

Neji sighed. "Start by folding it in half diagonally," he instructed, gesturing with his hand. Lee focused intently and mimicked the first fold. "That's it, now fold it in half again," Neji continued, watching Lee's movements.

In the background, Tenten stood up, gathering the leftovers of the picnic. "I’ll go get more napkins."

She cast one last glance at the two, feeling her lips twitch slightly at the corners before she left.

"This center line will serve as a guide. Now, fold the flaps and flip it over to do the same on the other side," Neji explained, keeping a watchful eye. Lee nodded vigorously at each step, repeating the motions, but his folds still seemed a bit crooked.  

"Like this?" Lee showed his progress, smiling with pride, even though the crane was slightly misaligned.

"Almost." Neji took the paper, adjusting the angle. The marks from the previous folds still creased the paper. "You just need to adjust this here," he muttered, straightening the fold. Lee watched with bright eyes.  

"Where did you learn to do this?" the boy blinked, curious, as he tried to fold another napkin, mimicking Neji. 

"When I was younger—No, the fold goes here," Neji intervened before Lee could ruin another one. "Miss Hinata made a tsuru for me. It was shortly after I took on my role in the branch house."

Lee tilted his head, looking at Neji. "Why..." He quickly realized, glancing at the headband covering Neji's forehead. He wanted to bite his tongue. How stupid of him. "Ah. Sorry."

Neji didn't seem offended or hurt. There wasn't even a flicker of movement on his face.

Although he could speak about it lightly, something in Lee told him that there were still many sensitive points. Everything was still too recent. Neji hadn’t explicitly talked about what had happened since the fight with Naruto and his "fateful" defeat. It was to be expected, but… Lee wanted to do something. Say something for him. He didn’t feel entitled to, however. Not because it was a matter meant solely for Neji, but because he sensed he still hadn't fully earned that right.

“The tsuru also symbolizes freedom,” he added, and Lee felt he was receiving one of those precious pieces of him.

Deep within his core, something stirred. This had been happening often, and he clung to the feeling with intensity. Taking a breath, Lee clenched his fist.

“Then—” he shifted beneath the picnic blanket, his dark eyes gleaming with a newfound emotion as he looked at the crumpled origami he had made, “they won’t be just for me!” Neji eyed at him silently, suppressing the urge to smile, but not for long. "I'll finish even sooner!" Lee exclaimed.

“Pf. As if you'd manage to make a thousand today,” Neji scoffed softly, skeptical.

“What? Is that a challenge?!” Lee pointed his bandaged finger directly at Neji, who had to quickly dodge to avoid getting hit in the eye.  

“It’s not a challenge,” Neji pinched Lee's finger, pushing it away. “It’s simple logic.”  

“No!” Lee protested, looking determinedly at the half-finished crane and continuing his work with all his might. “I’ll prove you wrong. If I have to, I’ll stay up all night making cranes until I reach a thousand!”  

Neji raised an eyebrow, his tone mildly amused. “You haven’t even finished the first one, and you’re talking about a thousand?”

“That's just a technical detail,” Lee shot back, accidentally tearing the paper. “The problem is that the napkins are too thin, okay?”

“I see,” Neji took his cup back, bringing it closer to his lips. “At this rate, maybe you'll manage it in a year,” he teased with a sly smile.

"We'll see!"

"How long has he been at it?" a nurse murmured to her colleague, who shrugged in response.  

The sky displayed a rosy hue, with the night slowly making its presence known.  

"Almost the whole day," the other sighed.  

"Goodness..."  

Lee remained in the same spot, surrounded by a white pile that, at first glance, looked like snow but was actually made up of about a hundred napkin tsurus. A dozen others, torn, formed a circle around him.

“Come on, Lee. You need to rest.” A nurse approached, placing a hand on his shoulder. Lee shook his head, not taking his eyes off the origami.  

“I still have nine hundred ninety-one left. I can’t stop now…” He muttered, hyperfocused.

In the distance, Neji and Tenten watched.  

“He’s… really motivated,” Tenten remarked, crossing her arms.

Neji nodded slowly, a sight both of them were quite familiar with—just not when it came to origami. A thousand kicks and push-ups until dawn? Absolutely. But watching him fold and twist the napkins as if he were on a battlefield, where each movement was a matter of life or death, was as absurd as it was amusing. They both thought in unison that it was probably the result of some self-imposed rule. Yet, perhaps that was much more fitting for him. He committed himself to every aspect of his life, no matter what task he was undertaking. In the end, it was inspiring, even if it was sometimes for things so trivial. But Neji didn’t feel that was the case. 

“Should we help him?” she asked uncertainly. Neji didn’t respond; his eyes were fixed on Lee. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of helping him with those—” Tenten stared at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow.

“With help, it’ll be faster.” 

Tenten stood still for what felt like five seconds, but it seemed like an eternity.

Cold, arrogant, and with a superiority complex, this was the Neji they had first met. But the one standing right in front of her?

She relaxed her shoulders, breaking into a smile as she sighed.

“I’ll go get more napkins.” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t provide any more.” A nurse said nervously, standing beside them. “I’m sorry. You’ve used nearly half the hospital’s stock…”

“What?” Tenten frowned—not angry, but shocked. “Yeah… I can understand.” She looked back at Lee. Was it just her, or was he on the verge of opening a gate? There was definitely a powerful energy radiating from him as he shaped the tsurus in his hands. "My god."

"Your scrolls," Neji pondered.

Tenten looked at him. "Yes? What about them?"

"We could use the ones without seals."

She nodded quickly, grasping the idea. She still had plenty in reserve, long enough to cut as much as they needed. It wasn't expensive material to acquire for creating her battle items. Tenten learned early on to value and cultivate every tool at her disposal. "Mhm! I'll be back in a moment."

Neji gave a brief nod before Tenten left the garden. Calm footsteps pressed the grass until they reached Konoha's handsome green beast — or whatever egocentric and flamboyant title Lee presented himself with.

Feeling a light touch on his shoulder once again, he pulled his shoulder away. "No rest! If I stop, I'll never..." The protest quickly faded as Neji's face came into view.

"You're putting too much force," said the boy just above him. A few strands of hair fell onto Lee's face, making him scrunch his nose. "That's why they all tear." Sitting beside Lee, he placed his hand over the boy’s tense one. The origami was quite crumpled, but it could still be reused if folded the right way. "This isn't a fight—"

"A warm-up?!" Lee interrupted, fire blazing in his eyes, only to be met with a firm look.

"... It's a delicate art, one that requires patience to perfect," Neji crossed his arms. "Can you really not think of anything besides training and fighting?" he huffed.

"Well, Gai-sensei said that everything can be an internal battle, depending on your perspective, and that every challenge in life should be faced with the same seriousness—”

"Sure, and from what I can see, your enemy is defeating you decisively. He has all the advantages over you."

"Huh?" Lee furrowed his brows.

Neji never imagined he'd be using battle metaphors for something as trivial and simple as origami—but it seemed to be getting them somewhere.

"You're rough and impatient," Neji glanced around at the massacre of napkins scattered about.

Lee swallowed hard, nearly fell backward, shocked, as if Neji's words were sharp arrows piercing his heart.

"How many times have you heard from Gai-sensei that haste is the enemy of perfection?”

Lee shrugged. Neji was right. He was undoubtedly rushing through everything around him. But it was something hard to escape. It was wherever he went—the feeling of being slowly pulled to keep going in the middle of the racetrack. He had nightmares about something similar, where he tried to run but something held him in place. Sand, he remembers. It was always agonizing, the feeling of helplessness tightening his breath, as if slowly suffocating him until there was nothing left but despair, unable to do anything but stand still. If he moved, he would die. He was a prisoner to his own weakness.

He bit the inside of his cheek.

"But if I don't do it quickly, I won't..."

"Tenten is coming back with more paper," Neji picked up a napkin. "It's best not to waste what we have here.” He looked up. "No pouting."

Lee choked. "I wasn't pouting."

"You're always pouting."

"My mouth is naturally like this, just so you know." Lee shot back in outrage, hearing a mocking laugh. "Excuse me!” he yelped.

A final origami was placed under the headboard of the bed, next to the flower vase.

A thousand tsurus and you will have a wish granted.

Tenten was asleep, her arms crossed beneath the mattress, with remnants of her cut scrolls scattered across the blanket. Lee dozed off with an unfinished origami in his hands, mumbling about a forest of tsurus. Both of them seemed to be dreaming of good things. Neji exhaled softly, tilting his head as he observed them—his gaze lingering more on the boy.

He smiles.

In the depths of his heart, he wished he could feel as good as he had felt that day, every day.