Chapter Two

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Chihiro leaped off of her desk and threw on a jacket and a baseball cap that one of her friends on the baseball team had given her a while back, she forced her feet into her sneakers without untying them, and then she hurled herself out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house, her ponytail whipping behind her. It was held up in the band her friends had given her so long ago in the Spirit World.

She thanked God that her mom was at a sewing club meeting while her father was at work, and that they trusted her to be alone on a weekend. They weren't there to slow her down. Haku could be dying. He might even be dead already, with blackened scales and smoldering fur… No! She would have felt it, known it, if he was dead. She would have known, somehow.

Finally she entered the forest, sopping wet ponytail fwap-fwapping as she ran. Her sneakers squelched as they slapped the mud of the trial. She had an estimate of where he had landed and she veered off the road, crashing through the underbrush as she went. She knew where she was headed, from where she'd begun, and that would make it easier to figure out where she'd end up—hopefully where Haku was. Even so, it would be through thickets and branches that scratched at her exposed skin, blood mixing with rain. Her lungs hurt from running so hard.

But it was worth it.

Over six long years, she had had two boyfriends. Sometimes, sometimes, her faith in Haku wavered. She had deluded herself that she needed to 'live a little'. And she had. Yet they had lasted only so long, and slowly she had come to realize—once again—that she indeed loved Haku.

She loved him. And that was why she continued to run.

Finally, Chihiro stumbled into a clearing with fallen trees littering the ground, smoking. In the center of the split branches and splintered wood, lay a familiar dragon. His once silver-white scales were charred; his sea-green mane was scorched and still aflame in patches. There was the smell of fried and flayed flesh in the steam curling from his long, broken body. His limbs were twisted at odd angles, his head was thrown back and his jaws were open to reveal bloodied teeth.

But worst of all, he was not moving.

Her world ground to a halt as she took in the horrible scene. Her terrified whisper of his name was met by only the unfeeling sound of torrential rain falling from the heavens. As she picked her way forward to kneel by his head, his scales began to disappear, some dissolving completely and others, the most burnt ones, simply falling away to clatter on the ground, filling with water and mud. Soon he was left in his humanoid form, his clothes torn and burned and his skin flaking painfully under her touch. She gently rolled him over, cradling his head in her hands—it had been turned at an odd angle and she was afraid at how limp his muscles were in her hands. She was no doctor; had his neck been broken?

But then he gave a weak groan and his eyelashes fluttered. She relaxed, and she brushed some blood from his cheek. True, she was no doctor, but her friend's parents were. If only she could get him back to her home, she could call them… But he had aged, lengthened, gotten heavier over the past six years. There was no way she could carry him.

Her wet hair was making her hair band to come out, and she just took it out to save it the trouble. As she sat there, fiddling with the band, her anxiety for Haku's well-fare growing, she vaguely wondered if she should leave to get help. She quickly dismissed the idea-she might ever find him again, or she might be too late. A wave of despair hit her like a tsunami and tears began to fall from her eyes. One splattered against Haku's face, and another fell on her hair band.

It took her a moment to realize that rain was no longer falling on them; her skin had numbed with the icy atmosphere, and the warmth of her room didn't reach her bones for a moment or two. But soon she saw that Haku was lying on her bed, and she was kneeling beside him on the mattress, quickly getting it soaked… And her desk was littered with soggy papers.

A fresh gust of cold wind flew through the open window, bringing with it a burst of wind. She ran to close it and locked it before turning back to Haku. In the silence, she could hear his soft, labored breathing. It caught in his throat—for a moment his brow furrowed in pain, and then he began hacking and coughing. She jumped as blood trickled out the corner of his mouth, and after hovering over him for a moment she realized she was helpless.

She had to get help.

Chihiro ran to get the phone, knowing that while she couldn't call the hospital she could call her friend, Skylar, whose parents were doctors. She quickly dialed their number, tugging on her hair as it rang over and over. She was sure she'd go mad if the incessant ringing didn't stop soon.

Finally, Skylar picked up the phone. "What's wrong?"

Chihiro began to explain. "You remember Kohaku?"

"How could I forget?"

"He was hit by lightning, and I don't know what to do. I can't take him to the hospital, but your parents—"

Skylar could hardly make heads or tails of what Chihiro was saying because her tone was so rushed and anxious, but as soon as she heard "lightning" and "your parents" she had excused herself and ran for her parents. After explaining that one of Chihiro's friends had been hit by lightning and making sure that her parents began getting the things they'd need, Skylar came back to the phone.

"We're on our way," she said, and then hung up.

They were there within five minutes; five minutes which Chihiro had spent anxiously twisting her hands, pacing around the hallway.

Skylar's parents ran upstairs, and Skylar followed. She stood in the doorway, keeping Chihiro out, paying attention to what the doctors were doing inside. She gathered that Haku was breathing, but it was barely there, he didn't have any broken bones, his airway was full of blood, his pulse was inconsistent…

Skylar had heard enough. She turned, grabbed Chihiro by the arm, and dragged her downstairs to sit in the stairway, Sky humming and Chihiro worrying. Sure, Skylar was worried too, but she trusted her parents not to let Haku die on them. She told her friend—her sister—so.

"You're so naïve," Chihiro said miserably.

"Perhaps not. Maybe you're too disillusioned."

"You're too young to know."

"I'm fourteen, Chihiro," Skylar protested. "That's only two years younger than you."

Chihiro turned around, momentarily distracted form her depressed thoughts. "Oh yeah. I keep forgetting."

Skylar had always been older in appearance than she was; when she was twelve, she'd looked fifteen. At fourteen, she looked sixteen, with a full chest, long legs, and a foul temper. Chihiro was used to underestimating her friend's age to gather the correct one.

As Chihiro turned back to face her knees, she heard Skylar mutter, "Besides, I know reality is a harsh mistress. Don't tell me I'm too young to know."

Chihiro sighed. She knew Skylar was right.

Being an American without a great knowledge of Japanese culture and language, Skylar had been an outcast. Among other things, her shy disposition, social awkwardness, and fiery temper had made her an object of teasing and rumors. At first she hadn't understood what was being said, but once her vocabulary had expanded she realized what people were saying, and she wasn't so thrilled. She had become withdrawn, dark and bitter, and lashed out at anyone who came near her.

Chihiro had also been teased, but for a different reason: daydreaming and doodling in class. Chihiro also, being a tomboy, was tortured about not wearing the right outfit or having the right hairstyle. Girls hated her for hanging out with the 'guys-to-get' all the time, but the boys were who she fit in with. She wasn't about to change herself just so the teasing would stop...

So when Skylar had met Chihiro, something just clicked. She'd had found the perfect friend in her, and Chihiro likewise had found the friend she needed in Skylar. On particularly bad days, the two met at each others' houses and slept over, comforting each other and raising each others' spirits.

Together, they found who they fit in with. Bran, a foreigner just like Skylar, quickly latched on to their small group and became their closest confidant. At seventeen he was in the same year as Chihiro. Unlike either girl, however, people adored him. The female population of the school loved his mystery, accent, and his hard-to-get attitude. He was athletic, polite, and he had enticingly strange looks.

Bran's "strange looks" included white hair, pale skin, and bird like eyes. He was almost always wearing a baseball cap because his lack of pigment made him vulnerable to the suns rays. Sunglasses, too, were a signature of his, hiding the fact that his eyes were almond shaped and gold with pupils that could grow to large sizes to allow him very accurate vision in the dark. Chihiro had always thought that his eyes were like a dragon's, or an owl's. Bran was tall and lean; often Skylar compared him to a sword or, less often and when she was angry, a spindly twig.

Chihiro knew that her "sister" had a crush on the Welsh boy, and sometimes she wondered if Bran knew. Although Skylar kept it well hidden, she periodically slipped up. Sometimes Chihiro caught Skylar staring forlornly at Bran when they were doing homework together, or she would become suddenly shy around Bran. When she heard that he had a date or liked a girl she would withdraw from the group and become a loner for a while. She had her excuses, but Chihiro could guess that she was wishing Bran would come after her. It never happened.

Skylar herself knew she was being stupid, that it was just a crush. She'd get over it someday, she'd mutter in passing to Chihiro without actually addressing the truth.

Chihiro reflected on all this as she paced back and forth across the foot of the stairs. Skylar continued to sit a few feet up, thinking of such things as well.

And so they waited and worried.

Finally, Skylar's mom came down, looking a bit tired, but satisfied. "He's going to be alright, but I'd advise against going walking around in a storm again with his luck," she said.

Chihiro collapsed in relief onto the stairs. Skylar jumped up. "I'll be right back," she said, and went upstairs. She caught her dad as he came out of Chihiro's room and before he could stop his daughter she had slid inside and locked the door behind her. She remained there for a moment, listening over the rumble of thunder outside to her dad's fading footsteps.

She turned and found Haku still fast asleep. She sighed and took a few moments to look him over; he didn't look like a dragon to her. In fact, he looked more like a piece of burnt toast than anything, and Skylar wondered why her parents hadn't insisted on Haku going to the hospital.

"Well, if he is a dragon, that means he's got powers, right? Must be those…" But she still felt rather uncomfortable at the thought of her parents being so negligent.

"Chihiro?" a weak voice mumbled.

She turned and smiled. "No, my name's Skylar. Your little girlfriend is downstairs, worried sick." She helped him to sit up and arranged the pillows more comfortably behind him. He opened his eyes ever so slightly and watched as she took a fresh blanket from the closet and covered him with it.

"You smell like her," he commented weakly, and subsided into a fit of coughing. She shrugged and handed him a glass of water.

"Probably because I hang around her so often." She stood and began cleaning the room, stacking the soaking drawings on the desk so that they'd dry and not stick to one another.

"Do you?" he croaked.

"Yeah. We're best friends. Tell each other everything." Haku watched as she gazed out the window, out across at where the Bathhouse was. "You took a long time in fulfilling your promise, dragon. Do you have any idea how much she cried and waited and suffered when you never showed up? Year after year. You caused her a lot of pain." At Haku's flinch, she gave an icy smile. "I know six years can't be a lot to a River Spirit the likes of you," she said, "but for a human, especially for a girl who is in love, that's eternity."

He looked away. "It hurt me too," he said defensively. "I had Yubaba to deal with, and then I had to straighten the bathhouse out. Then I had to break the barrier." He turned back to glare at her. "If I could have come sooner, I would have. Don't you dare think I would have passed that chance up—but there was no chance, before now. And even so…"

Skylar picked up a drawing, and turned it so he could see. "Thousands of these. Each perfected to capture every single minute detail." She put it down and before he could speak she gave him a slight smile and continued. "I know. I'm only telling you this because I want you to know what you've done, and that if I see her hurt anymore, I'll kill you."

"I believe you," he said solemnly, and coughed yet again.

"Good. Now I'll just go giver her the okay and you two can kiss and make up." She dodged a pillow that was lobbed at her, unlocked the door, and slipped out just in time to avoid a second shot, vaguely wondering how he could be throwing pillows if he had just had a near death experience. It must have been because he was a spirit, she decided.

"Your boyfriend's awake," Skylar said to Chihiro.

Chihiro jumped up and looked at her younger friend with worry. "I hope you didn't cause any lasting damage," she said with a certain sense of trepidation. Skylar's mouth twitched as she bit back a grin. She shrugged nonchalantly and then continued on.

Chihiro ran up the stairs, but suddenly froze outside the door.

It had been so long. She had changed so much. He had changed too, and not just by way of cutting his hair much, much shorter than before. Chihiro could tell that he had changed inside, too, and that worried her.

She loved the boy she had known, she loved the mysterious River God she had kept in her mind for six years—but what if she had imagined too much about him and he was completely different than what she thought, how she remembered him? Would that be for the better…or for worse? What if he didn't love her as she loved him? Worse, what if she didn't love him? The thought seemed horrifyingly possible and made her feel as if she were going to be sick. Her grip on the doorknob tightened as she attempted to summon up any spare ounce of courage she could find.

She opened the door.

He was lying on the bed, propped up by pillows and covered in one of her old down comforters, staring out the window at the Bathhouse, deep in thought. He glanced up worriedly as she entered and quietly closed the door.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he said and there was sincerity in his voice. She sat down at the foot of the bed and he searched her face. "I didn't want to, but… Believe me…"

She smiled. "Forget whatever Sky said," she said calmly. "She's just trying to scare you."

He grimaced. "She succeeded then," he muttered.

Chihiro grinned and began to gather her damp hair into a ponytail again. "So what did she say?" she asked. He gave her a dubious look, and her smile grew and softened. "I see. I'll translate for you. If you ever misbehave, that'll infringe on precious sulking time. And we wouldn't want that."

Haku raised an eyebrow. "Well then, I'll just have to behave myself." He offered her a smile, and she returned it with relief. Silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional rumble of thunder. It was a companionable silence, one that made the feeling in her stomach, of butterflies, grow.

Finally she had to ask him. She could deal with disappointment when it came, no, if it came. But she couldn't handle not knowing at all.

"Haku… You must know," she began, hardly daring to raise her voice or annunciate. She half hoped that he didn't understand what she had said. But he looked her deep in the eyes, and the soft seriousness in his own green orbs made her turn even redder than the color of her jacket.

"Do you love me?" she whispered.

"Chihiro." In his voice was a river, and his hand, which had somehow become wrapped around hers, had all the warmth of bathwater. "You love me. Truthfully, I can't believe you haven't given up on me by now. You're strong, stubborn and kind hearted. You gave me friendship when I didn't deserve it, you saved my life...You gave me back my name." He looked down at their joined hands. "I would trade anything to stay by your side forever," he said, and then looked back into her eyes. "I love you with all my heart and soul."

Now that was really sudden, Chihiro thought, but something inside her head was telling her to shut up and focus on Haku, who was looking at her intensely. He then did what she had been dreaming of for years: His lips met hers, and he pulled her ever closer.

Much too sudden, Chihiro thought vaguely. But she couldn't care less.