Author's Notes: Hey, reviews! Great! I wasn't expecting much of a reception for this, being the first story in the category and all.

The italized beginning this time is from a transition part of the song (the second one). The first two stanzas are from the English version, and the last two stanzas are translated from the Japanese version.


Chapter 2: Innocence Lost

There will be time enough to grow
In autumn you'll feel rain. In winter you'll see snow.

Sleep, little Chirin, and have your peaceful dreams,
And as you grow older, you'll see nature's golden beams.
Clouds roll by. Daylight breaks
On a peaceful day.

Just as it was before, just as it was yesterday
And today from the early morning.

Tender and gentle, summer's warm wind
Knows that work has to be done on time.
Fall will come, days will pass by,
But now it just sways flowers on the meadow.

Dandelion seeds were blown into the wind all across the meadow as the sun began to set on the mountains, turning the sky to peach. The sheep began their daily parade back to the shed in the corner of the pasture. All of them would remain in there for the night.

But among the sheep, Chirin was not to be found.

Chirin's mother wandered among the crowd, heading the opposite direction, stopping every now and then to see if she could spot him. "Chirin!" she called. "Chirin! Chirin!"

She stopped, looking around her as she reached the end of the line of sheep. Chirin was still not to be found. "Chirin!"

There was no sound of Chirin's bell.

"Where are you, Chirin?" Chirin's mother wandered aloud. "Chirin!" She was beginning to fear for him. He was so young to be lost. What if something had happened to him? "Chirin," she whispered worriedly.

Feeling nervous, Chirin's mother left the other sheep and wandered up the nearest hill. "Chirin!" she shouted. "Where are you, Chirin?"

From within a nearby bush, a chipmunk, a brown raccoon, and a gray hedgehog emerge, watching her curiously. Hoping they could help, the ewe went up to them. "Have you by chance seen my son Chirin?" she asked. "Do you know where he is?"

The raccoon stepped forward and shook its head. "Nope," he said. "Sorry."

Worry growing by the minute, Chirin's mother kept wandering the meadow, asking everyone she came upon if they had seen her little lamb. "Have you seen Chirin?" she asked three possums hanging from a tree. "He was wearing a bell around his neck."

All three possums shook their heads and replied, "Haven't seen him."

When the sun's light was nearly sunk below the horizon and the stars were bright and shining, the ewe had still not found Chirin. As she stepped underneath a tree and spotted an owl roosting in the tree, she asked the bird of night, "Did Chirin play here? I am sure he was playing here today."

The owl shook his head. "No," he hooted.

Chirin's mother was beginning to despair. She at last came near the spot of the fence where she had earlier that day warned Chirin about the wolf. "Where are you, Chirin?" she yelled. She gazed up at the mountain. Chirin had been so unconcerned about the wolf; he did not go beyond the fence to see the menace for himself, did he? Her eyes began to water at the thought, and she hung her head, trying to keep from weeping.

But then her eyes flew open, and she pricked her floppy ears forward, saying, "Hmm?" She swore she heard the ringing of a distant bell.

A short distance off, Chirin was just waking up from the nap he had under a fallen log. He groaned, yawned, and looked around, surprised at how late it was.

The bell kept ringing as he made his way away from the log, and Chirin's mother looked back and forth until she located the sound and saw Chirin wandering toward her. He was turning his head every which way in confusion, still feeling very sleepy. "How'd it get dark so soon?" he asked aloud. He tripped and fell but was up in a moment, shaking himself and making his bell ring loudly.

Recovered, Chirin lifted a hoof to take a step forward but then stopped mid-step when he saw someone standing only a few yards in front of him. "Mama!" he gasped. It was most definitely his mother, and she did not look happy.

Chirin said the only thing he could think to say: "You found me."

Chirin's mother stared down at him, looking both exasperated and stern. "There you are!" she said. "It is very late, Chirin! What have you been doing all this time, staying out past dark?"

Chirin lowered his head in shame, knowing he had no excuse other than that he fell asleep. Head hanging low, he walked up to his mother and stopped in front of her.

His mother was starting to sniffle. "You had me worried to half to death!" she said. "You are a bad boy, Chirin! Sometimes you really disappoint me. And after I just warned you about the wolf!"

Chirin looked up at his mother stern face and couldn't help but feel guilty, so much so that he thought he might cry. "I'm sorry," he said.

Chirin's mother stared at him, but her face was no longer stern; her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. At last, she broke down into sobs and fell down in front of him, nudging her little one close to her. "It's alright, Chirin," she whispered as she nuzzled him. "My dear child. You're still my favorite little boy!"

As they walked back to the shed that night side by side, Chirin explained what happened. "I'm sorry, Mama," he said again. "I was playing so hard with the little rabbit. And then we ate some clover, and before I knew it, I was asleep."

"I know, Chirin," his mother assured him. "I know."

"I won't ever do it again, Mama," Chirin promised.

"Oh, my Chirin," his mother said lovingly. It was her wonderful way of assuring him that he was forgiven.

They were so tired by the time they got to the shed that they decided to sleep out under the tree instead.


The sun's first rays shown upon a spider web the next morning, glistening and reflecting the beautiful scene under the tree. Chirin's mother was curled up on the ground, and Chirin slept on his back in the crook of her body, snoring softly.

On a leaf nearby, a ladybug watched over them until a bead of dew slid off the leaf, pushing the ladybug off with it.

They were still asleep when the other sheep were up and about spread out in clusters all over the pasture, while clouds, just as white and fluffy as the sheep below, drifted overhead.


The months passed, as did the brightness of summer to the darker tones of autumn. The green grass became brittle and yellow, and all the leaves fell from the tree in the pasture in an array of colors. The days got shorter, and the nights got longer and darker.

The hay was gathered and stacked up in mounds against the shed. The lambs had never seen hay before, and they naturally got into it, eating away, often burying themselves in it and talking to each other back and forth.

"Mm, boy this is good!"

"Yeah, but I think I'm full."

"Yup, me, too."

One of them would always get up on top of the highest mound and say, "Look at me, I'm king of the mountain!"

But even with this wonderful new thing to play with, autumn was not to be a joyful season . . . for this would be the season when Chirin's childhood would end swiftly and without mercy.

It happened when fall was coming to an end. The sheep were all nestled inside their shed, escaping the chilly autumn winds. All the other lambs were curled up with their respective mothers. Chirin lay with his back to his mother, somehow fast asleep upside down and snoring loudly. His mother blinked awake sleepily at the sound and turned to look at her dear little boy. Smiling to herself, she put her head down to sleep again.

But then the sheep all heard the loud baying of the shepherd dogs outside. Nearly every sheep except Chirin lifted their heads in fright.

The barking grew into growling, then growls and whimpers. All the sheep got to their feet as the last dog let out a pained whimper, and all was quiet.

Then the door to the shed burst open, letting in a violent, cold wind. The sheep gasped and peered out to see him standing in the doorway: the wolf. He was black as night, lean and rangy. His blue eyes glowed with a hideous light. A scar ran across his left eye, making him appear all the more sinister.

The sheep let out exclamations of terror. On of them reared back on her hind legs and then fell over backward in fright. Without another look, they all turned and fled to the very back of the shed, only to find themselves trapped. Seeing them flee, the wolf leapt inside and ran among the fleeing sheep.

Chirin, who had been fast asleep up until now, was startled to wake up and find his mother gone and everyone fleeing. What was going on?

That's when he saw the wolf. With a vicious snarl, the wolf leapt upon a fleeing sheep and broke its neck with his strong jaws. Chirin watched in astonishment as the sheep fell in front of him, lying lifeless on the ground.

The wolf stepped up on top of the sheep, his eyes staring straight at the little, defenseless lamb in front of him. Chirin looked up at him in awe, frozen in terror. The wolf licked his lips.

Chirin's mother stared at the scene in horror. "Chirin!" she yelled. She lunged herself toward him. "Chirin, no!"

Just as the wolf leapt toward Chirin with his mouth agape, Chirin's mother reached him and threw herself on top of him.

After that, Chirin heard the sound of something ripping. Feeling safe under his mother, he remained motionless, waiting until the terror was gone and everything was quiet.

When the night was still once more and the clouds had moved away from the moon, Chirin tried to crawl out from under his mother. He struggled to pull himself out by crawling backward, his head stuck under her body. At last he pulled himself free and tumbled head over heels and making his bell ring, landing in the moonlight shining through the door and facing his mother. "What?" he gasped, looking around. "Where is the wolf?" He saw no wolf but perceived all the other sheep peering out of their hiding places in the back, staring at him and his mother. He looked around some more and could not find the sheep that the wolf had bitten; perhaps it had gotten up and hid with the others. Chirin had no way of understanding that the unlucky sheep had been killed and dragged away to be the wolf's dinner.

Chirin looked down at his mother, who appeared to be resting peacefully. The little lamb yawned tiredly and thought he should do the same. He snuggled against his mother, groaning in pleasure. "He has already gone away, hasn't he?" he asked his mother, closing his eyes contentedly. "It is good he has not eaten us, isn't it? I knew he wouldn't like lamb. I'm glad the wolf's gone because I want to go back to sleep." He waited for a reply, but none came. "Don't you, Mama?" he asked, snuggling against her.

But his mother didn't answer.

"Huh?" Chirin gasped, opening his eyes. He crawled over to his mother, perching his forelegs over her foreleg and looking at her face, which was turned his way. "Mama?" he asked.

Something wasn't right. His mother wasn't lying as she normally did, and the way her head was resting wasn't right. She didn't look peaceful; she looked absent. "What's wrong, Mama? Huh?" Chirin asked. "Wake up, Mama."

A great fear ceased Chirin, one he could not understand. Desperately he shook his mother's foreleg. "Mama, wake up!" he demanded. "Why won't you get up?"

Still no answer.

Chirin was so confused. Something was definitely wrong. He got up and walked toward her face, sniffing her curiously. "Did the wolf hurt you, Mama?" he asked, his voice rising to a scared pitch.

The other sheep stood in silence, staring at the scene with pitiful expressions.

Chirin put his hoof on her foreleg again. "What happened?" he asked. "Did the wolf hurt you?"

No answer.

"I learned my lesson," he assured her, hoping to get some sort of response. "I'll stay away from the wolf."

Still no response.

That fear within Chirin was growing with every moment. "Mama, what's wrong?" he cried, shaking her foreleg, his voice breaking with tears. "Wake up! Wake up, Mama!"

Chirin had never understood death. All he knew was it meant that someone wasn't with them anymore; he thought of it as someone going away, only never coming back. But slowly the realization was dawning on him. Sobs rose in him and burst forth. "No!" he cried. "Mama! Don't die, Mama! You can't be dead! You just can't be!"

At those words, something in Chirin broke. He flung himself upon his mother. "Mama!" he cried, sobbing. "Mama! Don't die, please! Don't die, Mama!" He kicked his feet and then crawled up on top of her, beating her, demanding she stop this. "Get up!" he cried. "Don't leave me, Mama!"

In all his wiggling, he fell off her, only to crawl back on top of her. "No! Wake up! Come back!" he cried.

While Chirin ran around the body, crying every tear within him and shouting, "Don't die! Wake up!" the other sheep did nothing but drop their heads in sorrow, some of them crying tears of their own. They did not comfort him; they did not know how.

Again, Chirin flung himself upon his mother. "Mama," he forced out, "don't die!" He slowly slid off her until he was nestled against her body. "It's not fair!" he cried.

And he remained there, sobbing until he had no tears left.

Chirin could not understand why the wolf killed his mother or what his mother had done to deserve dying at the hands of the wolf. What did any of the sheep do, for that matter? Why do wolves eat sheep but no one eats wolves? After all, the sheep didn't do anything wrong! But the wolf still came, and the sheep still died, helpless at the fangs of their enemy.

When at last Chirin could cry no more, he looked out the shed into the pasture bathed in moonlight. Whatever that had broken inside him remained broken, but something else was hardening, something he could not understand. He walked toward the door of the shed and peered out, past the great tree, past the fence, and on toward the mountains. Nature had been unfair to Chirin and to his mother. It was an unfairness that he could not stomach and would not stand for. Justice would be done.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Chirin began walking toward the broken part of the fence, quieting his sniffles. Once there, he stopped and looked back at the shed. The other sheep were clustered at the door, watching him, all having the same questioning looks on their face: Where is he going? What is he doing?

Chirin owed them nothing, for that is what they had done: nothing! They had just stood there! They had not fought back! They had not spoken or protested. They had hid like the weaklings they were!

But not Chirin. With a huff, he turned back to the fence, fixing his eyes upon the mountain where his mother had told him the wolf lived. "Wolf!" he growled in rage as he took off through the hole, his bell ringing as he ran.

And all the sheep watched and did nothing, fearing they would never see Chirin again.