No need to read the history of the festival. I've tried to embed the festival story into this fanficton. Feel free to be confused as you read on. Although if you do look for the festival's history before I get to it, it shouldn't ruin the story. You'll just be like Yashiro – knowing the torture before it happens.


It was almost a normal Japanese festival. There were plenty of typical food stands: chocolate bananas, fried octopus balls, mochi, grilled corn on the cob. The usual stand games: goldfish catching, summer ball lotteries, ring toss. Multiple lit lanterns hung from floated strings, making the street a mass of fluttering, glowing streamers in the setting sky. It was only the large impromptu stage that marked the whole event LME's doing, foolishly grand and extravagant even thought it would only be needed for one night. It would be impossible to miss the designated meeting place.

The clip clop of her wooden geta did nothing to distract Kyoko from her mission, weaving her way through the festival's crowd. Her moves were easy and fluid in the old-fashioned garb, despite its decreasing use in western Tokyo. It had taken her all day to dig out her traditional Kyoto clothes, still beautiful after months of being buried beneath her belongings. Although she hated the past Kyoko for her nativity and intense desire to please, she held this particular garb in reverence.

The ruby red colour of the kimono held the classic pattern of sakura petals etched in orange, the inspiration for her hair colour. The sash was also a rich gold, as well as the woven ribbon at the end of her French braids.

The Fuwas had given her several beautiful kimonos to wear while she worked at the inn. Even their son's memory could not detract from her appreciative feelings, though it took a while to shake off her demons.


"What's wrong Kyoko-chan?" The Daruyama matron cried out in shock, watching their tenant slide through the door. A heavy purple fog of despair crept into the restaurant, making the current lunch diners cower in their seats.

The actress dragged slowly through the entryway, her feet shuffling towards the entrance to the upstairs living quarters. She paused at the foot of the stairs, turning her head forlornly.

"I'm acting…in the Tanabata festival tonight…"

"Oh Kyoko-chan! That's wonderful!" The matron cried happily, clapping her hands once in delight. "You'll make a wonderful Orihime!"

The excitement in her landlord's voice helped disperse some of Kyoko's gloomy haze; some of it by surprise. Kyoko hadn't said what part she would be playing. Then again, there was really only one female part in the story of Tanabata. The matron continued to speak, with little pause.

"We weren't sure on whether we should close up tonight, but if you're going to be performing, we will definitely come."

The shadow dispersed fully, Kyoko pulled her head up and crossed her hands with fervor, politely declining. "Oh no! Don't do that! I'm sure it will be nothing special."

"Nonsense! I would love to see you act in person Kyoko-chan!"

"It is a big night for tourists. You shouldn't close the shop on my sake. The restaurant would be very busy."

"We were thinking about closing anyway, Kyoko dear."

A gruff voice cut over the woman's conversation. The knife continued to cut the shiitake mushrooms dutifully, but the chef's words were clear, crisp, and as concise as his blade. It ended their argument with a simple sentence

"Tonight we will be there to see you."

Kyoko's heart rose in her chest as she looked at the Daruyama patron. He had not raised his eyes to look at her, but after living at the Daruyama for more than a year, she could tell the patron's emotions without looking into his eyes.

They were coming. Not for the festival, but for her. To see her do something she loved, like a parent would.

A few seconds passed as Kyoko looked from the landlord to his wife. Her eyes became glossy, lightly shiny with unshed tears. She bowed in appreciation. "Hai! Thank you!"

Unwrapping the apron from her wide frame, both women climbed the stairs to get ready. The chef smiled only briefly, before returning to his stunned regulars.


The character hadn't been too hard to create in Kyoko's mind. In fact, Orihime was more of a return to a favourite past character than a creation of an new one. The old Kyoko had loved Orihime. A weaving princess was a princess that Kyoko could relate to. She was what Kyoko aspired to be like. To work hard for her family; who loved her as much as she loved them. To do whatever was necessary to be with her one true love. And to be a real princess.

There were large festivals in Kyoto, where young girls would go around dressing up as the weaving princess; officially competing to be crowned as the sky princess that night. Even young, Kyoko knew that she would never be pretty or popular enough to be crowned with something so special. In fact, she was usually working hard at the Fuwa Inn that night, even if she had wanted to compete. Still, as she served, she would always pretend to be a waitress Orihime. The Fuwas would let her wear her most beautiful of robes, and Kyoko sang the theme of the Tanabata festival under her breath as she served.

Sasa no ha sara-sara / The bamboo leaves rustle

Nokiba ni yureru / Shaking away in the eaves;

Ohoshi-sama kira-kira / The stars twinkle

Kingin sunago / Gold and silver grains of sand.

Hadn't she basked in the sight of floating, burning pieces of wish filled papers (with all of the festival goers) by the river? Watching her own wish get lit, floating down the water, as she called upon Orihime. She wished that Sho-chan and her could remain close, and not be pulled apart by love and fate as the deity she prayed to had been.

Kyoko grinded her teeth at the thought. NOW that she was smart enough, Kyoko would never set a silly piece of paper on fire. She would go straight to the source and burn him, and make her own dreams come true. Dreams that had nothing to do with love.

Tied to a floating paper boat, demon Sho bats around his forked tail, wrestling to get himself free from the ropes. Kyoko ghosts chant demonically around the boat, as the head spirit lights the ceremonial match. They all have identical fanged smiles, as the demon Sho screams, watching them edge near the flammable vessel, match head aglow.

"Nooo, you can't write your wishes on me! You write it on the paper! Ah mo! Go home! Shoo you stupid kids! Ahhhh!"

That voice. That frustrated cry made Kyoko's wooden geta sandals stop in mid-step. The fantasy vanished.

"Moko-san?"

Kyoko looked around frantically in surprise, as she ran towards the voice, away from the back entrance of the public stage. Her cherry yukata swished, as the young actress went to run towards the commotion.

"Moko-san! I'm coming!"

What if President Takarada had her locked in a cage? To be stared at for her beauty? What if someone tries to touch her?

"Oh no you don't!" A voice cried, grabbing Kyoko by the wrist with surprising strength. Catching the actress off-guard, the foreign hand pulled the teenager behind the stage, and out of sight.

Once through the backstage door, Kyoko gasped as she turned around to see the makeup witch, Jerry Woods, drag her through the mess. All around the backstage were elaborate backgrounds, various highly technical electrical equipment, and panicking stage hands. Eventually they ended up in one of the tiny private dressing rooms, barely large enough to house its expansive costume as well as all of Jerry's "wands" as Kyoko called them – her makeup tools.

"We only have an hour left to get ready, and I still need to get you dressed and put your make up on."

Tugging off the sash with one expert pull, Jerry undressed Kyoko as if she were a rag doll.

"Hikoboshi is already made up and getting on stage."

The witch's hands and tools of the trade were everywhere, as the young actress got sucked into the experience of getting her clothing makeup done by a professional.

"I know Darling made you jump into this, but we have faith in you!"

Even in the hectic pace, It was one of the treats she loved no matter what while being an actress. In fact, the normalness of this work environment was a reminder of her job. It calmed Kyoko enough to remember why she was there.

"Make him fall in love you Kyoko-chan!"

All she had to do was get into the mind of Orihime, and act out as the announcer read the story. She could do it. Hopefully whomever Hikoboshi was, could do it too.