To wake, to dream

Author's Note: Chihiro is now an adult, but she is haunted by the voices of the past. She has recently been put in a mental-health ward for several months but now she is back in the community, living in a flat in a dilapidated part of town. Chihiro suffers from a dissociate disorder which makes her retreat into her own mind and memories and re-live a lot of her experiences as a much younger girl, which is why a lot of her behaviour appears to be child-like.

Chapter 1: A new painting

Today was different. Chihiro could feel it in her bones. Today smelt different, like a faint memory from her childhood. She closed her eyes, drinking in the early morning sunlight that poured in her flat through the vertical slats in the blinds. Slowly, she walked over to the easel which stood by the grimy window. This was the best painting she'd ever done, she was sure of it. Soft and ethereal, it was like a memory from a dream.

o0o

Eiko trod carefully up the decrepit staircase, careful not to tread on the shards of broken glass. She hated this place, hated the fact that most of her recovering clients were sent to dilapidated flats in rundown red light districts. But after all, it was usually only what they could afford. Breathing somewhat unevenly she reached number 13 and knocked carefully on the door, fishing around in her bag for the prescription drugs. Chihiro answered, holding the door open, her eyes locking with Eiko's.

"Hello," Eiko said brightly, ignoring the blazing stare. She was used to that with Chihiro. Actually, Chihiro was one of her favourite clients, silent and mysteriously sad as well. Eiko never quite understood her.

"Can I come in…?"

Chihiro made no sound, but slightly stood aside, the light streaming down her back and shoulders.

"Wow… it's so light in here today," Eiko commented, handing Chihiro her pills.

"Here you go …"

Eiko's eyes scanned the room, taking in the surprising lightness of it all, not the usual dampness and clothes everywhere, when she noticed the easel.

"Oh Chihiro… you've been painting again?" Her eyes lit up. Chihiro had not painted, from what she could remember since she'd been at the ward. Eiko still had a picture that she had drawn of a red bridge and a fantastical building on her wall in her office.

"May I look…?"

Again, Chihiro didn't speak, but the corner of her mouth seemed to come up slightly.

Eiko strode over and gasped. It was beautiful. The style, she recognised from the many paintings Chihiro had done in rehab, but this one was definitely special.

"Who is he," she whispered.

Chihiro looked at her, and once again Eiko was captured by the sadness, pain and mystery etched into the very depths.

"You don't know…? Well, that's a shame. He looks like a Prince to me…"

"River god."

Eiko jerked her head up in surprise, thinking she was hearing things.

"Did you say something Chihiro?" she said, stunned.

"He's a river god."

Eiko, smiled, feeling hope flow through her veins. Hopefully this meant, she was coming back, at least a little.

Walking back down the stairs, Eiko reflected on when Chihiro had first been brought to the ward, she had been diagnosed with a type of dissociate disorder. She had the company of voices in her head and was silent and withdrawn, but Eiko had seen something different in Chihiro today. It amazed her, but also scared her in a way. She had this uncanny feeling that things were changing…

And in her mind's eye she could see the painting…the painting of the boy with the jade eyes.