Warning: This is a unfinished draft of "Chihiro." You may recognize some of the scenes and characters from the story, but the plot is almost completely different. A lot of you enjoyed this version back in 2013 and I thought it was a shame to just keep it buried in my computer, so here it is. If you haven't read the completed story, you can find it from my profile. One last revision is on its way, and hopefully will result in as big a change as did from this version to the next. Thanks!
Swansae
She was a good student, a good friend, and a good daughter. She was always someone you could go to when you needed a hand or to share a secret you just had to tell. She had everyone's trust. The teachers loved her. They always praised her work, praised her for getting along with the other students, praised her for being obedient, and yet…
Sometimes, while talking to you, she slipped into a reverie. She would get that far away look in her eyes and then you knew there was no hope; she wasn't paying attention to you anymore. She would look at you and see past you at something only visible to her. When you snapped her out of it, she often didn't remember the subject of the conversation or even who she had been talking to. In class, she kept her focus, but sometimes when her guard was down, you could catch her coming back to reality.
She never had a boyfriend in the five years that she'd been here, though many boys had been interested in her. It wasn't that she didn't like boys, but rather that she spoke to them as she would to any other person, never as a potential love interest. She never took part in gossip, never held grudges, and although she would help you through your drama, she never had any of her own.
Slowly, your opinion of her changed. You began to see how the teachers loved her and how she always got good grades. Your parents compared you to her: "She always does well, so why don't you? Her parents tell me that she is very accomplished. She always gets straight A's. She always obeys her parents. So why don't you? She's a much better child than you are."
She's better than we are.
She's too good for us, you said. She doesn't want to associate with her inferiors.
As you grew up and divided into your various cliques none of you noticed that she belonged to none of them. She who was friend to all had but one loyal friend. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she didn't seem to notice. She never held it against anyone.
Sometimes, when she was lost in her invisible world, there would be a whisper of a word on the wind, landing on the tip of your tongue only to slip away like a delicate soap bubble:
Kohaku…