PART THREE
There's close enough, and there's too far. It won't change an empty stare, but I can't seem to end these images, hauntingly looks like hell.
Gave In Again, The Bastard
The night before my grandfather died
Nearly fifteen years before my own death
I had finally decided
What type of spirit I wanted to be
That next day
When I ran into my grandfather's room
And found his shell left lifeless
It only prodded my hopes,
And pushed them closer to the surface of my mind
Isn't it weird that
Those so many years before I died
Shot at the side of the Kohaku River
I had already learned to appreciate death
And the wise spirits hidden in its depth.
Somewhere along the line
Of my fucked up life
That appreciation left me
I wanted so badly to be the wind
Now all I want is to be a kid again
With my innocence still locked away inside my body
And my mind still filled with the hope
Of love after death.
Can't Keep Refusing Rights
The golden slip of paper danced underneath his forefinger and thumb, the handsome handwriting sparkling beneath the full moon. He stood, frozen, on the center of a small, wooden bridge, bare-chested and without shoes. His hair, shoulder length, looked black in the night light as it rubbed along his shoulders, brushed about by the frosty breeze. Behind him loomed the bath house, the lights glowing, the guests sure to arrive within moments. It was what lie ahead of him that made his legs lock and his heart shiver.
Water, in a place that, mere hours before, had been a large, beautiful field, lay just beyond the small set of buildings and the heavily perfumed air. There was a train that skimmed those waters, riding along a track that went much farther than the sea before the bath house. It took those with a ticket, and only those with a ticket. He had to leave; he couldn't stand being here any longer. By morning the ticket would melt to nothing, and who knows how much longer he'd be locked away then?
Delicately slipping the ticket into his front pocket, Kohaku stepped across the bridge, emerald eyes locked on the buildings ahead, watching as the black spirits appeared beneath the colorful lights. The smell of food was thick, causing his stomach to squirm and his eyes to wander. His steps faltered at the sight of a long line of meats, smoking, their smell drawing. A whip cracked against the back of the table, wielded by a large man with drool dripping from his fat, brown lips.
"Keep moving, dragon boy!"
Kohaku's eyes snapped to the ground in front of him, his pace picking back up as he sprinted down some stone steps. What's wrong with you? He thought, sliding against a wall to avoid walking through a black blob of a spirit, Don't let Yu-baaba's spells get to you. Not when you're this close!
There it was. The water stretched out before him, the remains of more stone steps leading down into its depths. A boat, shimmering on the water and slowly bringing more spirits to the bath house, inched its way towards Kohaku. He sighed, turning his eyes to the blank inertness of the water. He could just fly to the nearest train stop, hop onto the train, and put the bath house out of his mind…forever.
The water lapped up around his bare ankles, licking the edges of his short pants and crashing against the stone steps he stood on.
"Where's your immortality gone, boy?"
Kohaku tensed as a black, cloaked figure rose from the water, not making a single ripple. A white, smiling mask lie across his face, and he showed no visible arms or legs. "You can't possibly be leaving, can you, dragon boy?" He hissed, his voice high and chilling, "But you've been here for so long."
Another dark figure rose from the steps behind Kohaku until it hovered inches from the ground, "Indeed you have, dragon boy, so very long. You should think more before you throw your immortality away for a train ride!" With wide smiles locked on their masked faces, the two spirits began to circle Kohaku, chuckling like rattling snakes.
"I've done my time." Kohaku growled, his voice low, his emerald eyes flashing as they watched the spirits circling him, "Now let me leave in peace."
The two spirits froze, side by side, in front of Kohaku, their masks gazing down at him, both hissing demonically.
"Don't be so quick to give it up!" Began the first one.
"Is there not sssomeone you wish to save?" Finished the second, turning his masked face to the empty stairs to the left of Kohaku.
Kohaku turned, chills racing down his body.
A gorgeous woman stood, mere feet to his side, glaring at something he could not see. Her dark hair was shorter than his, hardly brushing passed her chin, and lay still around her face, despite the wind picking up there, at the bath house. Eyes earthy and defiant, she glared at the person they could not see with malice and disgust. Kohaku watched, with pain in his chest, as she clenched her trembling fists, and met her end with a gruesome blow…
"No!" He shouted, watching the blood explode from her precious forehead. Ignoring the laughing spirits he dropped to his knees, throwing his arms out, only to have Chihiro's body slide straight through his grasp. She smacked against the steps, blood falling over her porcelain skin. He reached out to her, his fingers going straight through her hair, her open eyes, her small, pale hands. He couldn't touch her. He was shaking, an odd lump forming in his throat. "Where is she?" He choked, whipping around to glare at the two floating spirits. "You have her! Where is she?!"
"The girl is here."
The dead body lying before Kohaku faded, and a new body appeared, floating between the two spirits. Chihiro hovered, like a horrid rag doll, in mid-air, her wrists bound behind her back and her head lolling to her shoulder. Ropes wound around her fragile body, a tight, black slip of cloth wrapped around her mouth and nose.
"Let her go." Kohaku growled, the nature of a dragon hissing through his teeth. His eyes flashed, his nose wrinkled and lips twisted into a terrible sneer.
Yet, the two spirits, bobbing in the air with Chihiro's soul resting between them, merely carried on in their snake-like laughter.
"Her soul is black!" Cried the first, wafting lazily in front of Chihiro.
"She belongs to us, dragon boy!" Shrieked the second, rushing forwards in an instant, until his horrible mask wasn't an inch from Kohaku's own nose, "Go catch your train! Hurry! Before the sun rises and you're locked away forever!"
They cackled, the sneer evaporating from Kohaku's face. His lips fell open, his eyes watching Chihiro in excruciating defeat. How could this happen to you, Chihiro?
"Do tell No-Face we send him our love!" Cackled the spirits in unison, each taking a side of Chihiro and breathing in her scent, their gasps rattling.
"…please…"
The two spirits turned, their masks' ghostly smiles gazing down at the dragon boy.
Kohaku swallowed, sweat beading in his forehead and hands trembling, "Please, let me speak to Yu-baaba? I know what you want, and you can have it; just let her go. Take the ticket."
Whatever invisible strings that had been holding Chihiro up, had now been cut loose. Her body tumbled from the air, landing in Kohaku's grasp. Her head rolled onto his chest, the top of her hair brushing the bottom of his chin. He slowly laid her down on the steps, holding her head up last and gently setting it.
"The ticket, dragon boy," Began to first spirit, a solemn tone hushing over his hiss.
"It will be let loose into the sea." Finished the second, dropping to eye level with Kohaku.
Kohaku didn't look up from Chihiro's face as he slid the golden slip of paper from his pocket, squeezed it into his fist, just to feel its freedom pulsing through the signature one last time, then let it go, in that moment his own soul floating lazily in the Spirit World's wind, landing with indignity in the water, and dissolving into nothing.
"You have ten days, dragon boy. Ten days."
So He'll Loan The Cash
"Zeniba!"
His foot smacked against the bottom of the locked doorway, his body wobbling as Chihiro remained unconscious in his arms, hair sliding across her moonlit face. Kohaku panted, lines of sweat stretching across his temples and down to his chin and neck, all as the animate streetlamp bobbed about, casting yellowing light on his pale face. He drew his foot back again.
"ZENIBA!"
His muscles had tensed, ready for another toe crunching kick, when the door snapped open, a grumpy, big-nosed woman glaring daggers up at him, "I want nothing to do with you, you blasted piece o-" Her rattling voice froze, her bright eyes widening at the sight of the girl lying unconscious in Kohaku's arms. The door inched open further as the old woman hesitantly stepped into the night, her eyes gazing at the girl's face, "Who is it?"
Kohaku shifted, propping Chihiro's head up more securely against his chest, "You know who it is Zeniba. If you don't want to help me, at least consider helping her."
The streetlamp hopped away, casting a dark shadow on Zeniba's Swamp Bottom home just as the old sorceress pushed her door open, casting a warm light onto Kohaku and the spirit of Chihiro Ogino.
But The Sin Is On The Hands Of You