Her eyes and hands flew open in shock, only to shrink back in pain from the blinding glare of the sun and sharpness of something her hands had grasped.
It was that dream again!
What had it been about?
Despite the fact that the little girl knew that she had seen the dream before, she could not put a finger as to what it had been about.
Just like the countless other times she had woken up feeling so.
Knitting her eyebrows in frustration and determination, she conjured all her concentration on the happenings that occurred not long ago, and attempted to recall the names that had appeared throughout the dream.
"Che…Chi….hi…Chi..hi..ro…?"
The girl sounded out each consonant painfully slowly, ease replacing her frustration as she finally sounded out one of the names.
"Chihiro!" She repeated excitedly.
However, she knew there was one more.
"Ha…H…ki? Haki?" She frowned, unsatisfied.
No, it didn't feel quite right.
Aki? Was it Aki?
She shook her head again and frowned deeply still, giving up as a small sigh escaped her parched throat.
At least she had regained one of the names, which was a huge step forward!
What had it been about?
The question would not stop flitting across her mind.
There must've been some sort of message in it at least, for she felt that such a recurring dream would never have no significance.
Or was she over-thinking things?
Sighing again, the little girl, Shiori, slowly opened her eyes as she gradually eased them against the blinding sun.
Her vision was immediately filled with a hazy delicate blur of pink.
She had fallen asleep on the Sakura tree, which grew near the gates of the imperial palace, as if guarding the border of the royal house to that of the village, which spread out below.
Its buds were in their prime time. Even Shiori's smallest movements caused a downpour of pink rain, and the branch's graceful dancing in the wind lulled the little girl to a sense of other-world-ness.
To any passer-by who would have seen this picture of the little girl in the kimono would have undoubtedly looked twice, rubbing their eyes as if confirming whether what they had seen in the tree was a small spirit of the old-aged tree.
The girl in fact, was simply, a girl.
Indeed she was the emperor's little child, and yet, that meant nothing to her– for her father she had once been proud of for his successful expeditions and countless introducing of new and foreign materials from lands far beyond the raging seas, was now no more than a memory, or at least that is what the girl referred him to.
He had not been home for months now, and despite the fact that this seemed to barely have effect on her little sister, Kannazuki, who preferred the wait as long as it meant more presents and shiny goods, Shiori had grown to hate the man who had seemingly left the two here alone in the emptiness of the palace.
What good was a present when the giver was gone?
What good was a family, when the only remaining parent was gone?
Shiori didn't remember her mother.
She had passed away long before her memory would allow recollection.
Kannazuki, who was three years younger than Shiori, obviously too had no memory of their mother.
Neither did it seem to affect her.
Thankfully, however, there remained someone in the palace that eased this thought of train.
Shiki, was Shiori's caretaker, and child-hood friend.
He was only 4 years older than the 7-year-old Shiori, and yet his maturity had gradually led to his caretaking nature, his kind smile never once leaving the boys pale-white face, even when Shiori was up to no good.
The colour of his hair matched that of the colour of his eyes - a deep silvery-purple colour which seemed to glisten in the light.
It was undoubtedly a rarity in the ancient lands of Japan, however its sight had gradually become normality over the years as time passed within the imperial walls.
Shiori never saw Shiki in the sun.
He would often come out after the energetic Shiori outside, however, his deep red paper umbrella never left his side and shadow, which again had become normality over the years.
Regardless, Shiori was intent on marrying Shiki in the future.
She hid it from no-one, instead, reporting this intention to her caretaker on a near daily basis, even singing it to the other servants who lined the empty imperial halls.
And each time she would say this, Shiki's smile would deepen and eyes soften, which did nothing but encourage the little girl's blossoming pure love.
Clad in red and gold lined silk, little Shiori, with her long black hair, which melted over her shoulders, swung her legs too and fro as she repositioned herself to peer through the gaps of the overgrown tree, supposedly already forgotten about her prior frustrations of being unable to uncover her awaited dream.
Instead, she peered longingly into the distance towards the green horizon, where the village met the hem of the "Shi-no-mori" – the "Forest of death".
Or at least, that it what rumours had called it, for the forest seemed to stretch on and on for miles into the unreachable distance.
For all, it was the root of fear, trespassing was strictly forbidden.
It had been rumored, that many had entered its shadows out of curiosity.
None of them was seen again.
Yet, Shiori knew, deep in her heart, that this forest was what she had been searching for till now.
It was not the " forest of death".
It was a home.
It was a gate - a gate that opened, to the land of the Gods.
Gods had once been rumored to roam the lands, each God representing an element or item - Gods of the trees, Gods of the mountain, and Gods of the sun and moon.
And yet, where were they now?
The mere mentioning of Gods was now a taboo in the palace, her father especially intent on the extinction of its utterance.
But why?
Emperors were supposed to be descendants of the God – Amaterasu. Shiori had managed a peak at deciphering the ancient scrolls tucked away in the depths of her father's sleeping chambers, before she had been found and all documents burned.
His deep rumbling voice penetrated her memory.
"GODS DO NOT EXIST!"
Shiori, cowering in fright had only managed to feebly nod her head in forced agreement, before running, sobbing into her caretaker's arms.
This had been the last time she had seen her father.
After that incident, he had set out on another expedition, finally disappearing without a trace.
Shiori stared intently towards the Shi-no-mori, determined to finally catch the existence of a God so that she could prove her father wrong.
They had to be there somewhere!
She knew books wouldn't lie. It definitely had to be her father lying!
And thus, little Shiori stared so fixated into the distance, that by the time she realized that she wasn't alone in the quietness of the high branches of the tree, she had come face to face with someone who stood lightly opposite her, leaning against the main trunk of the tree.
The child's face was covered with a mask, and yet Shiori knew instantly that it was a boy.
Maybe he was around the same age as her, his hair cut evenly in line with his shoulders glowed a deep green as it flowed lazily in the spring wind.
Shiori, however, knew something else.
The boy,wasn't human.