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The chilly December air caused Kikyo to pull her heavy winter coat around her more tightly. It was cold, and windy, and the crisp breeze bit at her nose and her ears, making her wish she could hurry up her walk and get back to her apartment on South Pine Street.
Normally, Kikyo loved walking through Rittenhouse Square on her way home; it was large, and open, and she liked having a few moments to leisurely people-watch as she made her way back from the office. She was a lepidopterist, and helped to run the butterfly house at the Academy of Natural Arts and Sciences on Museum Row. But this afternoon, as the sun cast a dark glow over the city as it slowly sank behind the buildings, Kikyo felt as though she needed to speed up. Because dammit, it was cold, and dammit , she was hungry!
Kikyo skirted the east side of the square, resisting the urge to go in and look around. She needed to get home, and needed to figure out where she would order from. Was it a mussels and chicken fingers kind of night? Maybe a growler from Monks, too?
She was so lost in thinking about white wine and garlic sauce versus a straight-up marinara sauce for the mussels when she was jostled by a young woman with long dark hair that was tied up in a ponytail. It wasn’t until Kikyo saw something red flash in front of her eyes that she stopped, and looked around. The young woman was already heading into the square; Kikyo looked on the ground, and saw it:
A long, thick, curling red ribbon. It was a combination of satin and embroidery; there were beautiful holly leaves and silvery garlands mixed with carnations and pine. Small birds dotted the holly and pine branches on the ribbon, making Kikyo gasp with pleasure at the sight of the delicate birds and their tiny flowers.
Immediately, Kikyo snapped her head up. She saw the silhouette of the same young woman from before, only this time she was walking swiftly away from her. Kikyo took in the young woman’s retreating form—her ponytail, her warm red winter jacket, the shape of her ass in the dark jeans she wore. She was sure: this was the woman to whom the ribbon belonged.
“Wait!” Kikyo cried, running into the square after the young woman. “Your ribbon!” People stopped and stared as she stumbled through the square, looking everywhere for the woman in the red jacket and the dark jeans. The woman with the delectable ass. Kikyo shuffled among all the people in the square, inspecting them closely, looking to see if any of them were the woman who dropped the ribbon, but she saw no one that resembled her.
Kikyo wandered and wandered the Square: she forgot the time; she forgot the fact that she was hungry; she forgot everything except her vision of the young woman in the red winter coat, walking away from her. Eventually, Kikyo stood still, trying to take in the scene before her, her sharp dark eyes carefully inspecting each face, her ears listening to hard for young, female voices that might be her.
But there was no sign of her: no sign of the young woman with the blue-black hair in a high ponytail, no sign of the young woman with the delectable ass in the tight dark jeans.
There was only Kikyo...and the beautiful ribbon that the girl had dropped.
Days passed, and Kikyo still couldn’t get the girl with the red ribbon in her hair out of her head.
The ribbon had taken a place of honor in Kikyo’s bedroom: it was perched atop Kikyo’s favorite jewelry box, a constant reminder of the girl that Kikyo had briefly found, then lost...as though the girl was hers to lose to begin with.
She found herself looking for the girl all the time; even though she hadn’t gotten a good look at the girl’s face, she knew that the girl just had to be beautiful, because only the prettiest girl would wear the prettiest ribbon. And Kikyo found herself imagining what the girl looked like: petite, with blue eyes (somehow Kikyo just knew the woman had blue eyes), and long dark hair that practically shone blue in certain lights. Her hair was lush, and full, and there were many different ways that Kikyo could imagine the young woman wearing the ribbon.
First, there was the way the girl had been wearing it when she dropped: tied in a crisp bow around a high ponytail, fluttering softly in the cold December breeze.
Then, because it was such a thick ribbon, Kikyo imagined that the girl could wear it in her hair, like a headband, with the ends tied under her hair and peering out from among the blue-black strands. Kikyo liked this one, with the pop of color hiding in the girl’s hair—a little surprise reserved just for Kikyo.
Next, Kikyo imagined the girl’s hair tied in a high ponytail, wrapped in a braid, and secured by bobby pins, which were hidden by the ribbon wrapped and tied around the bun. Not Kikyo’s favorite look, but one that demanded consideration, for sure. Especially when she imagined the girl’s beautiful face turned towards her, the girl’s lips soft and shiny and begging to be kissed.
Well. After that fantasy, Kikyo started imaging all sort of things that she could do with the ribbon, both sweet and sexy, and she knew that it was time for her to put the ribbon aside and try to forget that it had ever belonged to a beautiful girl with long dark hair and a luscious behind.
And Kikyo did. She tried. She went to work; she went out with her friends; she came home and watched way too much television. She lived her life. She tried to forget.
But she didn’t—she couldn’t—move the ribbon from its place on her dresser, and as such, every morning when she woke up, there it was, waiting for her, roped into a gentle smiling face that greeted her each day. And then, when she went to sleep at night, it was often the last thing that she saw, with the promise to fill her dreams with the promise of finding the rightful owner of the ribbon—who was slowly but surely also making herself the owner of Kikyo’s heart, despite all of Kikyo’s efforts.
It was silly. She knew this. It was silly to fall in love with someone, when all one had was impressions and hopes and possibilities. It was silly to fall in love with someone because one had fallen in love with said someone’s ability to accessorize. It was silly to fall in love with someone who maybe didn’t even exist at all.
All of it was silly. And yet...that meant that Kikyo was a very silly person. Which she was not.
She was honest, and rational, and reasonable. She was someone who worked hard, every day, never missing a day, always completing all her work thoroughly and on time. She was someone who’d done well in school, who minded her manners, who’d done everything correct her entire life. Yet, now? She was someone who was completely undone by the vision of a beautiful girl in a red winter coat who’d dropped a red ribbon outside of Rittenhouse Square on a brisk December afternoon.
Eventually, Kikyo stopped fighting the feelings of longing that tightened her chest and made her feel light-headed and a little delirious when she thought about the girl. She stopped fighting the fantasies, and embraced them fully, sometimes even zoning out at work so completely that her boss asked her if she was feeling all right and if she needed to go home and rest.
Because Kikyo thought about the girl, and the ribbon, all the time.
And while imagining how the ribbon looked tied up in the girl’s hair was quite magical, Kikyo’s favorite fantasies were the ones where she returned the ribbon to the girl. They varied in content, but always ended up the same: the girl was so delighted that Kikyo had returned her ribbon, she would ask Kikyo to come inside her apartment, or go out to dinner, or, in her favorite fantasy, would thank her profusely right in the sidewalk where she’d dropped the ribbon. And then, in every one of Kikyo’s fantasies, the girl would slip the ribbon around Kikyo’s waist and pull her in for a kiss. And the kiss would be soft, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and Kikyo would swoon and wrap her arms around the girl and return the kiss just as sweetly and as passionately.
Yup, it was official: Kikyo had fallen in love with the owner of the ribbon. The owner who she had only seen once, in passing, but who Kikyo just knew was beautiful and amazing and perfect.
Even if Kikyo might never see her again.
The days passed, and Kikyo’s dreams and fantasies grew even more vivid. She knew that she had to do something : she couldn’t keep returning to her fantasies to satiate her. She had to know: could she find the girl again? Kikyo had taken to going through Rittenhouse Square now every afternoon on her way home from work, in hopes of glimpsing the girl again. But, fate is a cruel mistress, and she deemed it so that Kikyo would not meet her true love there.
Desperate, Kikyo took to laying the ribbon beside her as she slept. She stared openly at it: at its brilliant red satin; at its brocade and embroidery; and at its intricate details of flowers and animals. She loved the ribbon—and its owner—so much, and she prayed every night that she might find the owner again.
One night, as Kikyo lay in bed with the ribbon, a slash of white caught her eye. She took the ribbon into her hands, and saw that there was a small tag on the ribbon, with a company name. On a whim, she took out her phone and decided to look up the company. A quick internet search brought her to the company website, which pointed her to the different stores that carried this product.
As Kikyo looked through the different stores, she paused. One of the stores had a location on the north end of Rittenhouse Square, in an old, restored bank. Kikyo’s eyes grew wide.
Could she?...
Yes, she decided immediately. If the woman visited this store, then surely this was an opportunity for Kikyo to see if she would show up, and if so, then maybe Kikyo could return the ribbon, and get to know its owner...a little bit more.
Kikyo had never been to this particular store in Rittenhouse Square. She had often walked past, often admired its beautiful, white marble, steps; its large brass revolving doors; its large windows with all the gorgeous and trendy clothes she could never afford. It was the kind of store that Kikyo hoped that some day, she would be able to shop in, too, once she paid off her student loans and maybe got a promotion and/or a raise.
But now, she was not only going to go inside the store: she was going to browse the merchandise, look for the ribbon (or similar ribbons), and, hopefully, find the girl of her dreams.
The steps were busy with late-afternoon shoppers, trying to get their holiday shopping done before they headed home for the night. Kikyo pushed her way slowly up the steps, careful of the slippery marble, and then, through the revolving doors and she was inside. She stepped away from the door, paused, and took a moment to look around.
The inside of the store was just as beautiful, just as pristine white, as the outside. The store stretched away to her right, where she could see a second room with accessories (maybe she would start there!), the checkout counter, and beyond that, a third room with a “Sale!” sign at the entryway. In the lobby, where she stood, there was another grand, white marble staircase leading up; Kikyo trotted over to the steps, peered upwards, and saw that the staircase went up at least another two flights. She had to fight to keep her mouth from dropping open. This store was much, much bigger than she had initially thought.
How would she ever find the ribbons?
She decided to start in the room immediately to her right, which she saw housed sunglasses, jewelry, perfume, and all kinds of different accessories. Kikyo meandered into the room, and slowly began to take stock of what was there. She saw a beautiful display of all different types of perfume; just beyond that was a series of glass cases full of sunglasses and makeup. She saw another bin of hair accessories, but was disappointed to note that they were hair clips and combs, and not ribbons. She wandered around the room a little bit longer, admiring the necklaces hanging on faux branches, the rings sitting in little soft cases beneath, and the cuff bracelets that sat nestled on thick golden holders. The room was full of so many beautiful things, but nothing even came close to her ribbon.
“Can I help you?” said a voice close to her shoulder.
Kikyo jumped, and turned, and there she saw a young woman; her brown eyes were bright, and her dark hair was pulled back with a headband…
No, wait. It was a ribbon.
A ribbon almost exactly like the one Kikyo was carrying in her bag.
“Ye—yes,” Kikyo choked out. “I’m looking for a ribbon...maybe like yours? Did you get it here?”
The girl nodded. “I did,” she said. “It’s weird that they’re not with the other accessories, right?” She smiled. “But if you go up to the third floor, you’ll see a display with some outfits and sweaters on the table beneath, and the ribbons are there, too.” The girl paused. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she added.
“Oh,” Kikyo replied, “thank you, and I hope so, too.”
“If you need anything else,” the girl added, “my name is Ayumi.”
“Thanks, Ayumi,” Kikyo said. “Hopefully I’ve got it now.”
Ayumi nodded and drifted back among the shoppers. Kikyo headed back to the lobby, and took her first step on the grand marble staircase, looking up as she began to climb.
With each step, Kikyo could feel the anticipation building in her gut. Would she be able to find the display Ayumi had told her about? Would there be other ribbons there? Would she be there? And if she was, what would Kikyo say? How could she not be weird? Was that even possible?
The third floor landing arrived much too quickly for Kikyo’s liking. She stepped off the stairwell, and into the main room of that floor. Much like the first floor, it was massive, and all white, with a series of rooms connected by large entryways. Kikyo’s eyes quickly scanned the room, and she quickly spotted the display Ayumi had told her about. It was off to the side a little, near the corner, and there were several mannequins sporting beautiful winter sweaters and pants. Beneath them were rows of the sweaters on the display, and next to them were…
“The ribbons,” Kikyo breathed.
And they were beautiful. All satin, and brocade, all different colors: reds, and blues, and greens, and pinks. Each ribbon had its own unique design; each one looked like it was made by hand, and with love and care. Kikyo’s eyes widened and her heart dropped as she realized that the young woman she had seen would never be able to find another ribbon exactly like the one she had lost. Yes, these were lovely, but the one in Kikyo’s bag?
It was the loveliest of all.
Kikyo ran her hand slowly over the ribbons on the table, feeling the shift in the fabric, the rise of the embroidery thread against the pads of her fingers. One particular beautiful green ribbon had a red cardinal sitting on a pine branch, and Kikyo reached out to touch it, as though it were real.
Just then, another hand dropped over hers, brushing it as it picked up a red ribbon just above the one Kikyo was touching.
“Oh,” said a light, feminine voice, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to brush against you like that.”
Kikyo raised her eyes, and nearly fainted. Standing in front of her, gray eyes lowered in embarrassment, was a young woman.
An absolutely beautiful young woman...wearing a dark red winter coat and wearing dark jeans.
With her long dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail.
Kikyo struggled to keep her breathing easy. She needed to not panic; she needed to stay calm.
“Oh,” she said, “it’s okay.” She paused, and turned her gaze back to the ribbons. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” The girl’s voice was sad. “I was hoping to come in today to see if...to see if there was one that matched the ribbon I lost.”
Kikyo’s heart was now beating wildly, and her breathing was becoming erratic. Could she...could she be…
“You...lost a ribbon?” Kikyo asked softly.
The girl smiled sadly. “Yes,” she replied. “Last week. Not too far from here, I think. I had it on when I left work, but when I got home, it was gone. It must have come off somewhere along the way.”
“What—what did it look like?” Kikyo now barely dared to breathe.
“Oh,” the girl replied, “it was red, with holly and pine branches, and carnations, and little birds.” She blinked back tears. “My grandma gave it to me, and I don’t have the heart to tell her that I lost it. She’s going to be so disappointed.”
“Wait.” Kikyo was prepared to talk to the girl, to give her back the ribbon, but she was not prepared to see the girl cry. “I—I have something that I think might be yours.”
The girl sniffled and blinked her large, luminous gray eyes. “Mine?”
Kikyo nodded, and opened her bag. “Yup,” she said, digging around for a moment. When her fingers brushed against satin, she pulled out the ribbon, and held it out to the girl, whose gasp was all Kikyo needed to know that it was, in fact, hers. “I saw you drop it in Rittenhouse Square last week. I tried to come after you, to give it back, but...you were already gone.”
“So you held onto it all this time?” The girl’s hands were clasped over her heart, and her eyes were shining. At Kikyo. For Kikyo.
Kikyo nodded. “I did,” she said with a soft smile. “Just in case I found you again.”
The girl’s eyes began to overflow with tears again. “I—I don’t know how to thank you,” she said happily. “I—I’m so very grateful.” She paused, tears still flowing, and sniffled. “What’s your name?”
“Kikyo,” Kikyo said. “I’m Kikyo.”
The girl smiled. “Kikyo,” she said, “such a pretty name.” She dropped one hand, and held the other to her heart. “I’m Kagome,” she added.
“Kagome,” Kikyo breathed. “Also a pretty name.”
The two women stood there for a moment, taking each other in slowly, carefully, tenderly. Kikyo could feel the way that Kagome was gazing at her: hard, fierce, and definitely like she liked what she saw. Kikyo thought that maybe, just maybe, she could, in fact, take a chance.
“It’s...it’s nice to meet you, Kikyo,” Kagome said at last.
“Same,” Kikyo replied gently. “I’ve been hoping to find you for a long time.” She looked down at the ribbon in her hand. “What would you like me to do with this, Kagome?”
Kagome smiled. “Would you mind tying it back in my hair?” she asked. “And then maybe, you would want to go get a drink?”
Kikyo smiled back and held up the ribbon. Kagome turned around, and bent down slightly so Kikyo could tie the ribbon, which she did, making sure to tie the bow twice so that it wouldn’t come undone. When she was finished, she took Kagome gently by the shoulders and turned her back around.
“You look perfect,” Kikyo said softly. “Perfect and lovely and ready for me to buy you a drink.”
Kagome smiled back. “Maybe next time,” she said huskily, “you can lose something of yours, so it can be my turn to find you.”
“Oh,” replied Kikyo, dropping her hand to take Kagome’s, “you found me the minute you dropped that ribbon, Kagome.”