Chihiro stood at the kitchen sink, up to her elbows in suds as she scrubbed the grease off of the plates. She smiled a little as she stared intently out of the window in front of her, even though she couldn't see anything through the dark night. Her eyes darted a little from side to side, searching.
She wasn't looking for anything in particular (but why was she always looking, searching, wanting, waiting-) just staring out the window as she washed the dishes. Her parents had gone out for the weekend and even though they left her some money if she wanted to go out, she much preferred to stay at home and have a real meal.
After moving to her new home all those years ago (seven years six months fourteen days when will He keep His promise?) she had become sure of her self, outgoing, and hardworking. Her parents had been surprised, but pleased with the change in their daughter. Proud. (Would you be proud of me too, Ha-)
With the move also came the dreams, those hauntingly real dreams that left her waking in tears, shivering and confused as to where she really was. Name thieves, gods, pigs and curses danced about her head as she ran through a city of red in an unblemished country side, searching and searching for something (him, the boy that's gone, where did he go-). She needed the person or thing she was looking for desperately, like a drug addiction that had her body, mind and soul. But she never found it.
(A name, a NAME! For the love of the Gods, what is His NAME?)
Chihiro glanced down at the bubbles for a moment, noting that she might have to add some more soap soon. She looked back up and for a fraction of a second saw his face in the reflection of the window and everything came back to her with a snap.
(Through the gates, across the field, over the bridge, vanish- fade into nothing, a river, a curse, what could possibly be in a name that a soul was bound so tightly to it? Could He tell me? Could You tell me? I miss you, Haku-)
And then like a fish in a pond it darted off, leaving Chihiro dazed and confused mid-scrub. What had she just been thinking about? She looked out the window, wondering if maybe something she had seen could retrigger it, but nothing came. There was nothing at the window but her own reflection and the darkness outside. Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought for a moment, trying to recall the thought process. When nothing came to mind she just shrugged and went back to washing her dishes.
It must not have been that important.