No worries, still updating steadily :) School has not killed me yet. Please check out my deviantart account with illustrations for the story! Link on my profile! Also: I HAVE A POLL. This is important, please take the time to vote, it's on my profile.

White silk stretched taunt between the round wooden beams, its weave tiny and smooth. An equally as white colored hand held the edge of the rim with certain elegance while the other poised the needle above the intended point like a snake, ready to strike. The flash of silver whipped in and out, blurring with speed attained by hundreds of years of practice. Not a single error. The outline of gold thread was crisp, clear, something that screamed "perfection". Like everything else in her room. Like everything else she set out to do.

It was this piece of artwork that slammed down onto the mother of pearl desk by the graceful hand. The wooden support vibrated with fear, but the perfectly stretched silk only displayed the careful stitches with pride. The full red lips pulled down into a scowl and the black eyes flashed with disgust.

"Rubbish." What had begun as a rose now resembled a bunch of cattails. Swaying in the wind, hovering around a marshy swamp…

"Rubbish." The silk screamed in agony as the hand swiped down through the air, blue sparks lighting from the nails. A piled of white shreds, unrecognizable to any eye, lay sadly on the multi colored-desk. The bounce of the silver needle echoed in the spacious room as it hit the ground. She cupped her face in both hands, dragging the full and young milk white skin down with clawed fingers. This wasn't right. There was something wrong with her. Her mating was only a week and a half away, something she had long looked forward to. She should be elated, happy…

"Milady?" She did not turn around, but instead released the skin from her clutches and looked into the round oval mirror set above the desk. There were her "obsidian kissed eyes", as her father called them, but they had lost their usual grandeur, their haughtiness. There was her mouth, expressionless and still, even bordering chapped. Even her hair didn't seem to shine the way it used to. Its weight felt heavy on her back.

"Tell me, do I look beautiful?"

"Of course, Princess Kyo, when haven't you?" She sat still the servant proceeded with the daily rituals, setting down the basin of rose water, wetting the teeth of the pearl comb before pulling it through the sleek black locks. "I remember you as just a wee baby, and even then, this hair, so dark and black, that skin, so pale and flawless. You were beautiful even before you decided to take this form. Look at me," the round, jolly voice of the maid blabbered on without shame, "fat, homely, dull hair—"

"I don't feel beautiful." The Princess of the Khahani Delta interrupted dully, staring back at the image of sixteen-year-old girl the mirror portrayed.

"But Milady, if you aren't beautiful, then nobody is! You haven't been outside the palace grounds much in this world, but I assure you that there are many crippled, peeling, old people who wish they had half your beauty. Now, this isn't how you should be thinking, not with your mating so close—" The cheerful string of words only irritated the paled skinned girl more.

"Leave."

The servant frowned, her readable features scrunched up in observation as the comb hovered in mid-stroke. The faces of a royalty and lowly class stared at each other through the mirror.

"You wouldn't be thinking about him, would you, Princess Kyo?" A bead of water rolled off from the damp comb and plopped into the basin. Her guess was too close for the girl's liking.

"I said leave." An angry slice of her hand sent the porcelain basin off the desk, where it hit the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces, water streaming out from the sad pile of shards in slow tributaries. The aura surrounding her was dangerously cold, and the remnants of a blue glow surrounded the pale hand.

"Princess Kyo…" The servant stared wide-eyed at the remains of the basin, backing up uneasily, "you really shouldn't…"

"What do you not comprehend about the word leave?" Her cold voice rose to an insane shriek, black eyes burning like coals. "Or do I have to show you too?" A ribbon of blue fire darted from her tapered fingertips, skidding dangerously close to the feet of the servant where it glanced off the ground, leaving a scorch mark. The plump woman let out a scream of terror before turning tail to flee, chucking down the comb in her flight.

Princess Kyo, you really shouldn't…. what wise advice, she thought, watching the water puddle around the broken pot without doing anything. She really shouldn't defy tradition. She had grown up with tradition as her backbone, her support. Things changed, for the better, for the worse, but mostly for the worse, because of a lack of tradition, lack of order.

But, she was just sick. Sick of the way the maid combed her hair 100 strokes every night, sick of the way she could not accept things….

"What have you done to me?" The shrill cry directed towards the mirror fell into low tones of malice when no one replied. The room was empty, there was no one to hear her. She collapsed like a warrior in battle, crumpled upon the smooth surface of the desk, burying her face in crossed arms. There was no one to save her.

Chihiro POV:

Think, Chihiro, think. I muttered all the oaths I knew under my breath as I ran as soundlessly as I could barefoot into the bathroom screened off the hanging door of bamboo. Knowing Haku, I wasn't the least bit surprised that it was, essentially, only a small dug in space that contained a sparkling white sink pressed up against one side and a toilet against the other. Nothing else. Zero. Zap.

That only fueled my increasingly panic ridden state, and I prevented myself from tearing at the roots of my loose brown hair. Not even a cabinet, no. It was empty, clean, but empty. Just to be safe, I peeked underneath the sink, the possibility of finding what I desperately needed slim.

I waved my hands frantically in the air. "Appear! Abracadabra!"

Abracadabra? Where did that come from?

Like I said, I wasn't exactly being rational. No girl would have been in my situation. Not in the Spirit World, not in the bedroom of some infuriatingly handsome River God, who thankfully, was still peacefully asleep at this unearthly hour. I allowed myself a sneak glance at the relaxed, lithe shape underneath the covers, spruce colored hair settled on the pillow. Good, I still had time.

Next, I dashed to the chestnut wardrobe that sat, dusty from neglect, in the corner of the bedroom, passing the mirror with averted eyes. The last thing on my agenda was to see sleepy, rat-nest haired self reflected in a mirror. No doubt, I would look awful, waking up in the morning to make the most dreaded discovery, leaping out of bed without even throwing something over the thin clothes I wore. Even July mornings had that chilly presence of dew. Goosebumps prickled at my bare forearms as I threw open the wood doors swiftly, but quietly.

"Come on, there's got to be something in here…." I pushed aside the neat, but sparse row garments, poking my head into the shallow darkness. The smell of him, pines and earth after the rains, always had the ability to cause my heart to flutter about like a caged bird, and it was no help that now, I was surrounded in a cloud of Haku.

"Stay focused, stay focused…" More digging around on my part with no results.

"Was it some particular impulse that made you wake at this time, or did you decide to conduct a more thorough search of my wardrobe?" His voice, humored, confused in a cute manner, the velvet lacking its edge due to sleep, caused my heartbeat to quicken by at least a few hundred thumps, interesting considering I had completely stopped breathing, freezing in my berserk search.

"Oh, good morning, Haku." My voice came out awfully high-pitched and wrangled as I jerkily pulled myself away from the messed up pile of linen and cotton, taking note of the gentle composure that he gave off, like always. It was as if he hadn't even slept…

"Did something happen during the night?" He asked softly, gliding in a step closer, concern written in his eyes and voice plainly as day, "Did you have enough room?" Nervously, he shifted his weight ever so slightly from foot to foot, a tint of pink barely brushing his clear complexion.

"Erm…No, well, I mean yes-I'm fine, Haku, not really, but…" I wrung my hands out nervously, only causing the painterly green eyes to become more confused as he furrowed his brows, trying to follow what I was saying. "Look, I, um, sort of have a problem here…I'm not sure if you can help me…but that's ok, er-I'm sure Yubaba can...in fact, just ignore me, Haku, and go back to sleep." This all came out in a great rush of a mumbled speech before I turned back around sharply, preparing to dive back into the cloths. His warm hands, unscathed despite his years, caught mine, preventing me from hiding.

"Chihiro, whatever it is, I will do anything to help you, you know that, right?" He gave my hand a tender squeeze, "Just tell me—"

His grip tightened and his whole body tensed. He titled his chin half an inch into the air, sniffing the air impeccably. I prepared myself for my doom that was rapidly approaching.

"Blood." The perfect little crease formed between his brow as he inhaled once more, hoping to disprove his discovery.

"Stay still, Chihiro." He walked fluidly and swiftly, urgency taking the place of calm as he went circle around me, eyes narrowed. "There is a scent of blood on you…Do you feel pain anywhere? Dizziness? Lost train of thou-"

"ALRIGHT!" I near shouted, causing the dragon retreat briskly, looking jabbed. My hands clenched in fists as I braced myself. I had hoped to avoid this awkward situation, and I was never much of an explainer.

"FOR GOD SAKES I'M NOT BLEEDING TO DEATH I'M A HUMAN AND HUMAN GIRLS ARE DISGUSTING AND GROSS BECAUSE EVERY MONTH THEY HAVE SOMETHING CALLED A PERIOD WHEN OLD BLOOD LEAVES THEIR BODY BECAUSE THEY ARE READY TO BEAR CHILDREN!" By now I was as red as a tomato, whether from the yelling or from embarrassment in its purest form. I honestly didn't mean to yell, and I regretted it the minute I saw the wounded expression on his face, an expression that made something in my chest contract and twinge. However, the pure satisfaction of being able to use my full range of vocals gave me the courage to blurt out such things we learned in Health class back at school in front of a River God.

"Females are meant to bleed monthly if they aren't..." A few shuddering breaths made my face return to normal, "pregnant."

Being Haku, the hurt evaporated and a look of understanding crossed his face, which was equally, if not more, red than mine. I sent silent thanks to the deities that he took this in all seriousness.

"Oh, Chihiro…" He took away his hands in unmasked relief and rare embarrassment that I wasn't bleeding from some unknown wound and searched in the folds of his tunic. Lengths of clean white silk spilled out, although I hadn't seen the bulges of material through his clothes. "Is this enough?"

"How…?" Just like I hadn't exactly felt a sword up against my back while I slept cradled in his embrace during the night.

He carefully handed the luxurious fabric to me, smiling. "A portal spell compromised with a summoning spell." He lifted the fold, beckoning me with an encouraging blink to come forward. I slipped my hand between the cotton, modesty causing me to judge my placement carefully. Where I expected to feel cotton was a curtain of cool air, and beyond that was nothing. A feeling of unending space.

"Those," he gestured towards the clothes I clutched to my chest with appreciation, "were summoned from the supply closet in the basement, my sword from my office, the rice balls from the kitchen." A mischievous smile graced his lips. "See? I didn't sleep with a sword pressed into my side."

My fever having left me hours ago after the minute the potion hit my throat, I punched the punch I had been longing to send into his arm before standing on my tiptoes and pecking my dragon on the cheek to make up for the indignity of being hit.

"Be back. Soon." I danced my way happily on my tiptoes to the bathroom, only turning around to stick out my tongue when I heard his glorious laugh my back.

After splashing my face with cold water, assuming I would not be able to fall back asleep with Haku next to me now, I looked at the unused silk for a moment in front of the sink, drumming my fingers against the porcelain rim in thought. There was something to be done, calling for my attention, tugging at my instincts…

I tore the silk carefully into a patch the size of my palm before slipping the rock out of my pocket, feeling the smooth pebbles beneath my thumb one last time before dropping it into the center of the silk, where the material dimpled to accommodate the small egg sized stone. Another ribbon of ripped silk served at a rope, wounding around the silk encrusted object tightly before trailing off into a loop. I knotted the ends, slipping the necklace over my head and tucking the lump beneath my shirt where it rested in level with my heart in the center of my chest.

It was now that I looked at myself in the mirror. My brown hair had been hastily combed with my fingers before pulled back into the customary ponytail with the purple hair band, my regular brown eyes twinkled back at me, smudges of faint blue below the lower lashes. Those lips, too often chewed on in thought or flitting with my "cutting sense of humor" as Haku put it, now smiled sincerely. I patted the lump hovering above my sternum and then tucked the scaled flower into my hair before slipping out the bamboo screen, feeling complete and whole.

Don't worry, Jirou, I will guard your soul with every breath I take.

I wasn't alone, I had help on my side. The help of a caring, compassionate, wise, and sometimes overprotective dragon.

I mean, he was blind, sort of. Because he took one look at me before slipping a hand into shyly into mine, declaring that I made the stars themselves lose their radiance.

"Ready for training?"

I laughed, welcoming the missed sensation in my throat.

"I'm ready for anything, Haku."

Haku POV:

I bent my head slightly over the ancient scroll that I held lightly in my fingers. The kanji was fading and from the dry yellowed bamboo strips and the scroll itself was like a person on the verge of collapse. Having just browsed through my library containing a collection of thousand year old literature, I reluctantly admitted to myself that due to all the turmoil in the past year, I hadn't really maintained my loved scrolls like I used to…Lin was right, I had lived as walking statue. My head bowed down in shame. I was glad Chihiro had not seen me like that, in a state almost as bad as Jirou.

The miniscule ink paintings of different lengths, shapes, and weights of swords ran up and down the length of paper, peeling descriptions following each detailed representation. I wasn't comfortable making a short sword for Chihiro, for that would mean she would corner in during the fight…the mere visualization of her fighting sent these ridiculous, panicked snakes in my gut.

A long sword would side with her on the issue of strength, but wielding a long sword with control would prove to be a difficult feat.

Then came the question of material, and the scroll, despite it's molding outwardly appearance, seemed to have something quite nasty to say on each and every sword core known.

Diamond is perhaps the strongest, but does not tend to forge strong loyalties and have known to been backstabbers throughout history.

Steel of any sort is a trustworthy companion, yet they absorb black magic easily and are heavy to a user of limited strength.

Obsidian shows optimal performance for flashy or swift swordplay, but is brittle and can snap mid battle.

Gold is warm and friendly to the touch, but gives off energy not only to the user but to the enemy in times of calling.

And so on. Row after row and row, I scanned with a wrinkle in my brow, each line ending with an inward grimace.

"Haku, explain to me what the purpose of this is again?" Her grumpy voice made me put the scroll aside on the cushion I had been sitting on. I had rarely seen this irritated side of her directed towards me, and smirked knowing that I had hit on one of Chihiro's few flaws. Impatience.

Comprehendible, however, since I had used my magic to freeze her in various battle positions, each of which she was required to hold for five minutes while balancing ceramic pots on the backs of her hands. They were of the low quality clay, as already half a dozen had plunged to their death. Nothing a simple magic couldn't piece together. Although the poses increased with difficultly, she was able to keep her death toll at six. I pulled out all my ends and tricks for this lesson, footwork, guard stance, offensive, and so on in a rapid succession of one another.

A butterfly of pride fluttered in my heart as I caught a glimpse of what kind of learner Chihiro was. Determined, diligent, and sometimes stubborn, it only made me love her more.

"To improve your balance," I replied calmly, moving my hand through the air once as the pose changed to one where the weight of her torso bent over her back. The pots wobbled and she worried her bottom lip in concentration as she strained to level her arms. "Not all battle training is exciting, as I warned you, this is equally as important and will help with your flexibility and inner core."

"I knew that." She argued defiantly, causing my smile to grow in width. "But somehow I have this feeling that you enjoy watching the pots crash to the ground."

"I do."

She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, resembling a fish gulping for air. It was obviously not the reply she had expected from me.

"HAKU!" Had it not been for freezing spell, she would have charged for me.

"I was just poking some fun," I said smoothly, sitting back down and returning to the hopeless scroll.

She muttered something beneath her breath that sounded suspiciously like "deities".

"Ruby is an obvious choice with its dazzling color and a hardness close to diamond, but has been known to behead the user on rare occasions." Chihiro gave me a quizzical look, her hair brushing my cheek as she leaned forward over my shoulder to get a closer peek. After three hours of backbreaking training, I let the softer side of me win over. There wasn't much time left for us, but she deserved a break.

"Really, Haku? Don't tell me that the cause of your moping and winces during my training had to do with this sad piece of paper," she teased, snatching the scroll out of my grasp and hiding it behind her back.

I growled softly, trying to regain my ownership of the scroll while keeping in mind of its fragile state.

"That sad piece of paper," I hissed with all the authority I could muster while grabbing at the scroll Chihiro hid playfully behind her slender waist, "contains the information I need to forge you a dependable sword."

"Dependable, huh?" She scrambled to her feet and sashayed to the round window out of my attempts with a feminine air. Deliberately unrolling the bamboo, she cleared her throat once before reading with an informative voice like a teacher to a pupil.

"'Tiger bone, one of the oldest known materials, contains great healing powers although many have been killed while trying to obtain this sacred core.' Don't you even dare consider making me a tiger bone sword, dragon." She folded her arms with a scowl, sitting on the narrow ledge of the windowsill.

The sunlight caressed her outline, bursts of hazy golden rays worshipping her, Chihiro, questioner of the Gods. My breath caught in my throat, but I didn't let that show as I walked over, plucking the roll of paper from her hand and tucking it into my shirt.

"No, I didn't think about tiger bone." She scooted over a bit so I could sit next to her on the ledge. It was a little bit tight, and for a second, I feared that independent as she was sometimes, that she would find my close presence irritating, but she only smiled at me, children of the sun frolicking around her form. "You just so happened to pick out one of the more gruesome adversities." I focused my eyes on a spot of light dancing on the birch colored floor.

She hugged me reassuringly with her slender arms as if feeling the pent up anxieties and worries that I never let show, and I realized just how much I needed Chihiro. Only a challenger of the Gods had this wondrous ability to calm me down, and I let go of myself in her true embrace, for once swapping roles as the protector to the protected.

"Don't worry," she murmured, "if anyone can find the right sword for me, it will be you, Haku."

I snorted softly. "I wish I was that confident of my abilities. How will I be sure I'm not giving you a sword that could potentially turn and hurt you in battle?"

Her fingers tapped the spot where my heart beat gently. "You will know, trust yourself. You just need somebody to light the fire." Spots of dazzling rainbows spun in the umber orbs and her lips curled with amusement and excitement up in the edges.

"I think it's time to summon Boh and the Yu-Bird." Her bell like laughter rose and fell with the rays of waltzing sunlight when I gave her a puzzled look, not getting the hint.

"How about a visit to Swamp Bottom?"

Chihiro, savior of the Gods.

Please review! I really appreciate any praise, criticism, suggestions, etc.

I know that you guys are all missing Granny and No-face, so I decided it's time to pay them a visit! We can't leave them out of this story!

Hopefully, they will be able to help with Haku's dilemma...an important one too!