[He stares at the little piece of paper that's been blank for the last ten minutes. Tanabata. He used to wish so easily. He used to dream so easily. It feels odd to look back and see how different he is now. Or maybe he's just older, battle-scarred and tired.
Shiro turns the pen in his fingers. Wishes are just yearning. You have to work to make them happen. Yet he can't think of anything to put to the page. There are no certainties. He makes contingency plans to cover for the things that sometimes can't be helped.
He turns the paper over. Still, nothing comes to mind. He's still staring at it when someone else approaches. He sidesteps to let them by.] Sorry. Uh, do you need the space or a pen? I'll probably have to come back to this later.
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Shiro turns the pen in his fingers. Wishes are just yearning. You have to work to make them happen. Yet he can't think of anything to put to the page. There are no certainties. He makes contingency plans to cover for the things that sometimes can't be helped.
He turns the paper over. Still, nothing comes to mind. He's still staring at it when someone else approaches. He sidesteps to let them by.] Sorry. Uh, do you need the space or a pen? I'll probably have to come back to this later.