Author's Note: I've seen Spirited Away once, so I couldn't quite remember the lay of the land. Please excuse any mistakes in my memory as pertains to incorrect geography.
Also, (disclaimer time! woot!) I do not own Spirited Away, nor any of the characters or any such matter. *pauses to wonder if anything else should be here* *shrugs*
Going Home
Six and a half years had transpired since her hand had slipped from his as she ran down the steps. She hadn't looked back for him, even though she wanted to so badly. She had gotten into the car and driven off, withered, brown and crumbled first bouquet lying abandoned in the corner of the back seat. She had laughed over the confusion of her parents when they had finally managed to battle their way back through the dense overgrowth and had come to see their new home… different than they had anticipated. Occupied, in fact. They found a new home and settled in, and she went to school. She made a few friends, but none of them came even near to crowding him from her mind, the pages of her new journal, or her dreams. A little after her sixteenth birthday, however, something happened. Her parents died in a car crash. In the blur that was her life in the days that passed to weeks, she waited for everything to calm down amidst her tears, and then, a few weeks after the accident, she decided.
She threw a few things into her school backpack (having dumped the heavy high-school textbooks onto her unmade bed) and pulled on her heavy-duty shoes. She slung the backpack on, and pulled her dark brown hair back, using her special hair band. The back door creaked as she pushed it open, but didn't bother to close it. The long and slender-bladed grass brushed up against her legs, and a small flutter ignited in her stomach as she approached the dark and tangled woods.
I'm going home.
She brushed the first vine away and stepped into the darkened woods. A stick cracked under her foot with a noise like gunshot, and an indignant bird flew out of the foliage overhead, yammering enthusiastically in the otherwise silent woods. She started, a smile lighting up her features. Eerie was something she hadn't had enough of recently. She continued in, hopping over logs and ducking under branches, unhooking her baggy shirt from the occasional thorn, and avoiding the prominent mud puddles among the bright green ferns. It had been a rainy summer, and she didn't wish to be muddied, bedraggled, her hair knotted and her shirt and pants dirtied when she arrived.
I'm going home.
Finally she pushed through the last patch of ferns and thorns assorted and stopped. There it was. The large red tunnel and the funny two-faced gnome, now overgrown with moss and fungus. She affectionately patted it on the head. Her backpack landed against the gnome with a thump as she took it off and rubbed her sore shoulder a bit. She pulled her hairband out and combed her hair with her fingers, removing the twigs that had, despite her greatest efforts, entangled themselves in her hair. She put it back up, pink/purplish band sparkling in the speckled sunlight. Her pack replaced on her back, she entered the tunnel. Like so many years ago the wind whistled and leaves bounced against her heels, but this time they brought with them the scent of a oncoming summer storm. And this time, too, she didn't shiver but instead laughed, skipping in a circle and then running on, joyfully. The laughter bounced around in the red painted tunnel, and she didn't think they'd ever echoed with the same sound. Her feet slapped against the pavement as she ran. A spark of light appeared at the far end. It grew larger and larger, and before she knew it, she was out of the tunnel and in the domed room with the benches that she remembered so, so well. She gazed around, and with another smile darted through, bursting into the bright sunlight and green grass. She mounted a nearby hill and gazed down. There were the steps. She paused, watching as the sun drifted down lower in the sky, casting shadows over the meandering hills.
I'm going home.
And her smile pervaded over her face, and with a light step she descended the hill and without pausing ran up the steps and over the bridge, footsteps echoing hollowly. The shadows danced closer, and the sunlight faded, and as it did she picked a berry and ate it, gazing at her hand, watching it to make sure it didn't fade and insuring she didn't keel over. Nothing happened, and with a triumphant smile she stood and turned.
"You shouldn't be here."
But a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his green eyes sparkled. She smiled again.
"I'm home," she whispered. And they hugged.