Why did it seem like everything was reminding her of the Spirit World today?
The way that man walked reminded her of the hefty Radish Spirit. Was that old woman strutting about like Yubaba? A boy looked like he could have been Haku's twin.
Clearly the world was laughing at her this morning.
Chihiro shook her head, her long brown ponytail bobbing in the back as she did so. It was merely because she was tired, right? The lack of coffee in the morning had thrown her off. If only she had awoken to find that her alarm clock had not rang at the normal time.
Dashing down the streets, she stumbled along to work. In her tiny town, she'd picked up work at the local ramen-ya. And she was going to be eaten alive by her boss this particular morning.
The woman had learned a year ago that on mornings when she could smell anything burning was when Miss Akita was in a foul mood. Miss Akita was the owner of the store – a stern woman who hid a generous heart. Chihiro had estimated her to be around sixty or so, despite the fact that the older woman could still see and hear like a hawk.
Normally Miss Akita made the best ramen in the area. However, when in a bad mood, she tended to get sloppy and the fried rice she made as a side often burned whilst she focused mainly on her super-secret ramen.
Sighing, Chihiro slipped on the restaurants basic white aprons and stepped into the kitchen. On such bad days, Miss Akita was also less lenient about her only assistant being late. This particular day, Chihiro found the woman cursing loudly at the burnt rice.
Hoping that she could go unnoticed, she began to pull out a new bag of rice. They would have to make more anyhow, and she liked to create rice balls. The patrons enjoyed them, and they reminded her of Haku. The brunette smiled at the childhood memory. Sometimes she would forget that it was indeed a memory, and think of it as nothing more than a dream. It was fantastical, really, and once she had gone to the ruins with a group of friends. Nothing magical had happened.
As a twenty-two year old woman who had passed through high school and nearly got through a culinary arts school, she should be able to accept that it was just a dream. But it was just too tangible to ever let go.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that when Miss Akita snapped at her she jumped. Gasping, Chihiro turned. "What was that, Miss Akita?"
"Where's your head girl!" The older woman sniped, "You're late!"
Rubbing her arm, Chihiro bit her lip and looked guiltily to the side. It was against her principles to be late – especially for Miss Akita whom she hated to let down – and it made her feel bad. "My alarm clock didn't go off this morning. I apologize."
The older woman looked at her, arms crossed and her face skeptical. "Indeed. You work on those rice balls. The customers like them, and I won't discourage them buying more." Chihiro nodded. At times, Miss Akita could be a skinnier and slightly younger looking Yubaba. It was, if nothing, amusing.
Even though Yubaba had been the terror of her young life, she could still view the grouchy spa owner as amusing. Besides, outside of the Spirit World, Chihiro had no reason to fear Yubaba.
Grinning to herself, she began to steam the rice. After which, she skillfully filled them various fillings (which were mostly salmon based). Some were left plain, but soon Chihiro had a little army of neat white hills looking at her. They reminded her vaguely of the statues outside the ruins.
She shook her head. What was it with today that that her dwelling on such a silly memory?
Customers were soon moving in an out. The pace at which people moved in and out of the small space never failed to amaze Chihiro, who was moving back and forth between tables carrying rice balls and bowls of ramen to and fro from the kitchen.
Today was a Monday – classifiable as the most hectic day of the week for reasons Chihiro had yet to figure out.
Business was business, according to Miss Akita. She often scolded Chihiro for thinking things out far too much. 'Certain things should just be accepted. When you do well on a Monday, you merely make food, and work quickly to ensure the customers come back next Monday.'
Hard work never bothered Chihiro. That had apparently been one of the things that had compelled Miss Akita to hire the then 21-year-old Chihiro as her assistant. It was only due to Miss Akita's age – and lack of children to boss around – that she had even needed an assistant. At times, the young woman found her grumbling about how upsetting it was to be getting older.
Really, it only made Chihiro smile to herself. There was something charming about Miss Akita's grumbling ways. To Chihiro, the older woman was a mentor and a parenting figure while she struggled to make a life for herself away from her parents.
She thought about them sadly – if only for a few moments. They had died a few years ago in an inexplicable car accident, while Chihiro was still working her way through culinary school. In fact, it had been during an exchange to the US that the accident had occurred.
Needless to say, she had rushed home the moment she'd gotten wind of the tragedy. The funeral had been expensive – so expensive that she'd even had to drop school. Which was part of the reason she was here working in this tiny town, and trying desperately to make ends meet.
Work was a blur. At times, she barely looked at the people who were ordering. Yes, she smiled at them and pretended to be friendly, but her mind was elsewhere. Her parent's memory haunted her, and at times she could hear her mother encouraging her and her father gruffly telling her that he loved his little girl. The way was she was tied to these memories drove her mad at times. People called her absent minded too.
It was all part of being Chihiro, no?
She rushed about, placing bowls of ramen upon tables. As she did so, she was stopped before she could move on with her tray by a hand grabbing her wrist as she moved away from the bowl. "You've changed so much," the person – a man she guessed by his voice – said softly.
Chihiro turned to look at the person, a smart remark like 'Oh I have?' It was certainly true – over the years she'd become taller and chestier. Beautiful people said, and she always waved them off because she was so focused on becoming a chef and paying off her debts so she could go back to school.
However this time she stopped. Shock made the tray tumble out of her hands. 'It can't be,' she thought, blinking at the man before her.
Slowly she took in his appearance. The same dark hair. The same shocking eyes. Everything was the same – he'd just turned into a man. His features had matured. He was no longer that twiggy little boy. He stood, and she had to look up into his eyes.
"Haku?" she asked in a tiny voice – half out of wonder and half out of fear.
He gave her a mysterious smile. "Yes."