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The Western stories - they always begin with happily ever after. Orihime, with all the earnestness of her youth and heart, likes the idea of western fairy tales more, not much in evil witches and enchanted castles and white horses, but in the nature of the interim itself: melodramatic and beautiful, sad and silly, against all odds but triumphant.
Romance stories, equally, are arduous and tortuous, but they loop back to sunsets and beaches and wedding bells. Orihime cries watching them, she cries because the journey has been so, so long, but they end happily nonetheless - how everything must be.
(how everything must be)
Orihime used to marvel at how wonderful those stories are, she tells Uryuu-kun one time while taking standing lunch on a ramen stall one chilly winter morning. She tells him - he who smiles patiently because he understands a girl's heart - how she used to think that good things must come to people who believe, if they wait, if they remain enduring, and hopeful, and positive.
"And now?" he asks.
Orihime tilts her head his way, her chopsticks frozen mid-way. Some pink tinges her cheeks; she has not been expecting that, "I...well, I probably still do," she admits with a small smile then bows her head, more apologetic of her insistence of naivety and the inability to shake it off fully.
Once upon a time, she did pine for the same boy for years and years and years and did hope everyday.
Uryuu-kun's expression is a kind one, and encouraging, and patient, and it cheers Orihime up a bit. So she laughs, "but with reservations, Uryuu-kun! I've grown up a bit, I know the world is not painted in rainbows - but wouldn't that be funny? what would I do if - if such feelings are gone. I like to believe in positivity. These stories, well, these stories are good because they show that good things come to people who wait, you know? Happy endings and against all odds and waiting. It gives people hope, because - I don't know - is hopelessness any better?"
But the sky is bigger outside her high school classroom, and the world is so very large when she steps foot on it.
"Ahh," Uryuu begins, in understanding. The broken egg yolk is starting to seep on his chili ramen, he picks up his chopsticks and begins mixing the broth and egg. He feels a little more pensive.
He doesn't agree with her, it's entirely passive. Direct effort should be given proportionate to the importance of the object desired - is what justifies an object's value. There is simply no 'good things must come to people who wait'; such positivity is not an Ishida manifesto, neither is against all odds - only if fought and won, and happy endings - only if earned.
Still, the sky shines everyday, welcoming blue and white, there must still be good things worth hoping for, so Uryuu replies kindly, "perhaps, Orihime-san."
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like many, i am staying at home and managing my team remotely. i crossed-off items in the zoom/google meet bingo and i probably have a 400% increase in slack usage - while this was funny, i miss my normal lifestyle.
i hope everyone is ok.
