Haku watched Chihiro run down the hill and across the waving grass. He willed her to keep going, to not look back. He so wanted her to be happy. But when she disappeared from his sight, he lost it. He sank to the ground, berating himself. He had found the most valuable treasure he could ever possessed, and he was letting it skip out of his life. He was even pushing it to go! The dragon in him cried out at the loss. However, he was not completely heartbroken. Before she left, Haku had done what he could to bind her spirit to himself. He had saved her life, he had helped her, he had won her pure and child-like love, but that was not enough. Haku cannot be blamed, though. It is simply the nature of the dragon to keep its treasure, and Chihiro was all the treasure Haku ever wanted.
As Chihiro opened her heart completely and trustingly to Haku, he had taken a part of what was so freely offered. He kept a piece of Chihiro's essence, her spirit, and now as she left him for the life she was meant to have, he could not bring himself to give it back. The love of a dragon is a dangerous thing: such devotion comes at a price. He cursed himself for his weakness, for his selfishness. He knew that he should allow her to be complete and happy, to live life without him as it was intended, but he simply could not will himself to let go. He straightened, and turned to the bathhouse. He would win his name, his freedom, and then he would find her, and give her back what he had taken. But for now, he would glean what comfort he could from this tiny piece of the one person he had ever loved.
