Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, etc.
Summary: A caged bird has had its throat severed. But it still sings in memory. ( Orihime )
Horizons rise here in my eyes
A sound of silence calls
Orihime thought:
If that window was never in this room, I would've surely died.
It was high up on the wall. Higher than she could grow, that was true. It was also true that she could never really see what was outside of it. But there was something inside her that was glad that the window was so high up. That she was glad that she couldn't see a thing in that window.
The room was white. Strange? Orihime thought so too. She always that that Hueco Mundo would always be a dark and gloomy place in the universe. Where no light ever enters. But apparently, it wasn't. Apparently... it was white.
And that scared her more than it would have if it was black.
The girl has never seen the other parts of the fortress. And she was glad that she wouldn't be able to. The only part she had seen was his throne room where she was first reported to. Aizen was probably mocking her with this choice of color. It was mocking her innocence at the beginning of her life. And now her innocence was stained with this act of heroicness on her part.
She had left her friends behind. And it still hurt. She thinks that it will keep on hurting for a long time. Maybe it would never stop hurting. Even she knew that Tatsuki, the person who probably knew her the most, would most likely not understand. She had done it for a reason. To protect the others. And now she was going to protect the Arrancars. It was irony. And she was ashamed.
Her life was going in such a different path. One moment she was with Rukia training to get stronger. The next, she was held prisoner by the Arrancars and asked to say good-bye to one person.
But she's glad that she can't look outside her window. When the Hollow man leaves, she looks up all the time. The small light lands on her and in this light she feels cleansed. She feels hope. She can imagine anything that she wants to when she looks up at the window.
Orihime imagines that just outside of the window is her home.
Sometimes her home takes form of her old apartment that she used to live with her older brother. Sometimes her home is the riverbank where red dragonflies always dance. Sometimes her home is just in a peaceful meadow where she can sit and daydream all day.
Beyond these borders is her home. Beyond these walls are her friends. Beyond this wall is her happiness.
And she's so sad. She's sad that even if she could walk outside those walls and go back home, she knew that she wouldn't. I came here to protect them. I came here to protect my home, she always tells herself. And usually that gets her through the day. Or the hour. Or the minute. She has lost all sense of time in this confinement.
But what she imagines outside her window is at night. Or in the morning. Or in the afternoon. When she imagines red dragonflies and a riverbank, it's always at night. When she imagines her apartment and her brother, it's always in the afternoon. And when she images home…
It's always in the morning. It's always when the sun first penetrates the black sky.
The girl remembers to put in the time. 8:00 is when school starts. It was around 7:30 at night when the fireworks went off by the riverbank. She was making bread with sweet bean paste around 2:00 in the afternoon.
Orihime never lost her sense of time when she looked out her window.
But there were times when her will collapsed. Usually it happened when she thought too much of her friends or when she stared too much at the window. It would start first with the shaking of her fists and then the rivers of tears went down her face. But it had been awhile since she cried like that. Part of her thinks that she has stopped crying altogether.
But she knows.
The girl is crying in her heart. Her voice has been silenced for a while now. Maybe it was Aizen's plan. Let the girl be alone for awhile and don't go in and speak to her. Let's see how she handles not having her friends there to protect her. Make her forget how to talk. Make her forget how to say hello.
Make her forget how to say good-bye.
When she talks, her throat feels dry and then she has to ask someone for a cup of water. That's why she doesn't really talk that much anymore. She doesn't want to have to ask for a favor from them. It was she who was doing the favor for them, and she didn't enjoy it.
Orihime gives off a timid smile. She still remembers though. She remembered how it was like meeting Tatsuki for the first time and saying hello. And… Her eyes grew downcast and her smile went back into a light frown.
She remembers how it was like saying good-bye to him.
Sometimes we say good-bye without even realizing how powerful it is. 'Good-bye! I'll catch you later!' or 'See you tomorrow!' Orihime has a deep feeling that she would not be able to see her friends later or tomorrow. The girl has had a lot of time to think. Being alone and quiet can do that to you. It can open another door in your mind that you can escape in and see yourself. And now she thinks that she might not see them ever again.
She smiles sadly and the warmth from the sun penetrates her heart again, melting the small ice on it that had built up from solitude and loneliness. She looks up to the window high up on the wall. Higher than she could grow. She looks up to the heavens through that window.
She may never see them again.
But she can imagine them right outside the window.
But in my heart a distant hope
Is mine forever
A/N. Hum… Another Orihime story. Heh. Angst again. Ah well. This also came out to be a pretty one-sided Ichigo and Orihime too.
The poem used was anonymous.