Ten a bird you should never miss
The first Tanabata following the Dome it rained. Heavily. She was disappointed, but told herself that it was for the best. It was too soon. The wounds were still raw, people still needed to heal, if not physically, then emotionally. And, as she sat watching the rain bouncing off of the asphalt, she decided it was okay. They wouldn't be reunited this time, but the rain would help them to heal.
The second Tanabata, the skies were clear. Orihime was tingling with anticipation. She'd spent that last two years wishing and praying for his return, and today was the day. She spent the morning preparing herself, brushing her long, orange hair until it shone. Then she began the time-consuming process of pinning it up in an intricate style, her hair pins carefully integrated into the elaborate design. Next she began to dress. The complicated layers and knots would have been easier if she hadn't been so nervous, or if she had someone to help her, but she'd insisted on getting ready alone. She felt it was important that she take her time and focus on what she was doing and why she was doing it. It was almost ritualistic. None of her friends knew the importance of today. She supposed she should warn them. Afterall, it was bound to come as a shock to them all, seeing him again. But she couldn't bring herself to tell them, couldn't stand to see the doubt and pity in their eyes. Not again.
The festival was alive with music and lights and food and games, everyone in good spirits. Her friends all laughed and joked, talking about school and the future, and if Orihime seemed a little more distracted or quieter than usual, no one thought anything of it. She had, after all, been acting a little strangely of late anyway, but whenever anyone asked her about it, she would just smile and say she was excited for Tanabata.
It was getting darker, although the warmth of the day still lingered. Her eyes darted here and there, searching the crowd. Her gaze scanned the horizon, hoping to see the outline of wings. All she needed was a sign, just one, even a single magpie to direct her, guide her to him. As it became later, her friends began to make their excuses and head home. Soon it was just Orihime and Tatsuki. Tatsuki was beginning to worry. There was almost a sort of desperation to her friend. She seemed agitated and on the verge of tears. "Orihime, what's the matter?" She just shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Come on, it's late. We should go."
"NO!" Tatsuki was taken aback by her friend's shout. Orihime took a deep, shuddering breath, seeming to compose herself, if only a little. "Please. Just a little longer". Her voice was quiet and small, her eyes pleading. Tatsuki couldn't refuse her.
They found somewhere quiet to sit, neither speaking a word, as they watched the festival draw to a close. It began to turn cool, the lights from the stalls fading as the traders packed up their wares. "I don't understand. The magpies… they were supposed to…." Tatsuki looks at her friend. Tears silently glide down her cheeks. She turns to face Tatsuki, her eyes so filled with hurt that it's heart-breaking. "Why didn't he come?" And even though she has no idea what or who Orihime is talking about, she can see the pain like it's a tangible thing. She does the only thing she can think of; she pulls Orihime towards her, holding her tight, crushing her against her chest. She feels her breaking in her arms, her sobs tearing at her soul.
It's late when she finally arrives home. Tatsuki had wanted her to stay at hers, but Orihime had insisted she was okay and just needed her own bed. As soon as the door closes behind her, she begins pulling at the bindings of her clothing, dropping layers as she makes her way to her bedroom. She stands in front of the mirror on her dressing table, looks at her face. Her tears have dried, but her skin is still red and mottled, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. She thinks she's never seen anything more pathetic. She shakes her head and the moonlight catches on her hairpins. She pulls them from her hair, not caring as they catch and tear out strands. All her life, Orihime has believed in fairy tales, in princes and princesses, dragons and knights, goblins and fairies. She looks at the pins in the palm of her hand. What good has it done her? She puts the hairpins in a small box, opens a drawer on her dresser and pushes the box to the back and closes it. There are no happy endings to be found here.
The third Tanabata she's in university. She decides to stay in Kyoto rather than travel back to Karakura to celebrate with her friends. She uses the excuse of assignments and study, but the truth is she's completed all of her assignments and she knows the material inside and out. It's been a year since she last prayed or wished. A year of change and challenge and growth. Even so, she still feels it, deep inside; loss. It's ridiculous really. She didn't even know him. And yet, those eyes, the way he looked at her as he faded away, the way he reached for her. She stares out of the dorm room window. The campus is mostly deserted, students and teachers alike all having returned home for the public holiday. She sighs, "I wish.." the words leave her mouth completely unbidden, surprising her. A year and not once has she allowed herself to slip back into her foolish, childish ways. So why, suddenly, does her heart betray her? Wishing doesn't change anything, this is something she has accepted. Yet still, again she can't stop the words, "I wish.." Shaking her head to clear her mind of the ridiculous notion that has overcome her, she internally berates herself. She turns away from the window, picking up her things as she heads out. And as she turns away from the clear blue sky, she misses the crane as it flies overhead.
a/n so I did a small bit of research into the significance of birds and symbolism, and the crane, rather than magpie, is a very deliberate choice here. I hope you enjoyed this installation.