He never returned for her.
She waited day in and day out. The days turned to weeks, which turned to months, and eventually years. She finally gave up and moved on, chalking her experience as a dream, a fantasy that she would one day tell her children and grandchildren. The hope never left her, however. She would find herself at the entrance. Hoping, wishing, waiting for the dragon that broke his promise to her. Even after marrying and having children of her own, she would return to the depot. Sometimes with them. They would go through the depot, through the tunnel, and see...nothing. No trace of the open field that held the entrance to the magic place of her memories. Nothing of the stands that served food, no bridge, no railroad tracks, no lake, no bathhouse, no Haku.
Every time she passed through, she felt a tightness in her throat. In her youth, she would allow herself to fall to her knees at the spot and cry. Cry for her friends that she would never see again. Cry for the kindly "grandfather" that probably forgot about her. For the Grandmother Witch that gave her a hairband to protect her. She would cry for the woman that took her in as a sister, for the giant baby that became her friend at the end. She even cried for the hag that held her there, under contract. Most of all, she cried for the dragon. He lied to her, broke a promise that shouldn't have ever been made in the first place. She often wondered, in those early years, if he was indeed watching her at that moment. Watching the tears fall down her cheeks, listening to the sounds of agony that ripped their way through her body. Was he sorry that he lied to her? Or did he take pleasure in her pain?
As she grew older, she learned to hide what she was feeling, as long as she had someone with her. When she would take her children to the spot, she would hold in the tears and excuse herself to take a shower. She would turn on the radio that resided in the bathroom to full blast and cry as the water cascaded down her back. When she would emerge, it was as if nothing had happened. The woman learned to mask her pain from her family. They wouldn't understand anyway, how could they? Would they believe that she mourned for a place that technically didn't exist? Would they think her crazy? No, she couldn't and wouldn't risk it.
Once, in her old age, she returned to the river. It had long since burst free. The Kohaku River in all it's glory, swollen from the heavy rains, ready to overflow. She walked, slowly, to the water's edge. She could remember the feeling of slipping between the rushing water. She remembered the movement under her, and the horns in her hands. As she stared out to the water, she fiddled with a hairband that was in her wrist. She looped it around her hand, once, twice, the movement caused it to slide further up her hand. To her fingers, she wasn't paying attention. It slipped out of her grasp. Into the water it went, and her first instinct was to reach down for it.
Splash!
The old woman felt the ice cold water chilling her bones. The temperature paralyzed her, she couldn't move, breath, or think. She could only sink further into the water as her hair tie moved further away.
Chihiro.
A voice filled her mind, but could it really be his? Or was she imagining again? Was it now, in death that she would hear his voice again? The voice that belonged to the dragon that had stolen her heart so many years ago. Water filled her nose and mouth, her lungs screamed for oxygen.
Chihiro, hold on.
There it was again. Maybe she was going crazy. Or maybe she was dying and he was coming to take her to the next life. Could she be granted the wish to see Sen, Boh, Kamaji, No Face, Zeniba, and even Yubaba again?
You aren't dying yet.
His voice, that wonderful, glorious voice that had once been her beacon in the dark, would he be it again. She could forget her anger and resentment as long as he took her away from here, her husband had long since died and her children and grandchildren moved to the United States.
You belong here Chihiro.
Did she? What was that movement under her? Why were her hands around something, and most importantly, how could she breathe? Was he saving her, for the third time already? Why save her?
It's not your time to go yet.
Why not? Why couldn't she just be free from the burden of living in this human world? Why couldn't she finally move on to the next? She didn't understand, didn't he understand? Didn't he see how she mourned and yearned for a place that she truly belonged to?
Chihiro...
She was on land again, and he was gone. She supposed that he did fulfill his promise, just a few decades too late. Her hairband was in her hand, and she turned to walk away, giving just one last glance to the wonderful Kohaku river. There was a boy standing in the river looking at her, his green hair tipped her off that he wasn't human.
Haku...
She looked down at her hairband and noticed that next to it was a small red berry.