Dusk had fallen, the milky fog growing denser, the stars duller. Nighttime creatures sang their songs to the still air. A solitary owl soared over the chaos, hoping to snatch a meal. Maybe he'd get lucky tonight.
Something in the white mist swirled just right, revealing a glimpse of movement on the ground level. The owl, delighted and enthralled with the feel of the chase, swooped low.
At the last moment when it was almost too late to pull out of the dive, the unlucky owl saw that his meal was not the juicy field mouse or luscious ferret he'd thought. The unicorn below tossed its head, marbled black horn striking out at the owl's tender talon. Screeching its indignity, the disappointed fowl oddly flapped back to its lonesome tree, resigned to another hungry night.
Onikisu slowly walked through the parting mists, head bowed. A sudden crash of thunder was followed closely by a tormenting downpour, slowly dissolving the haze. He relaxed his guard slightly. Haku wasn't following him. Still, at every shadow cast through the mysteriously dense fog he jumped, certain the white dragon was lurking, waiting to extract vengeance for the death of his beloved Chihiro.
And he did love her. That much was certain from the way he'd held her limp body and cried her name.
Was the little girl really dead? Something inside, some baser instinct come from the unicorn in his blood told him that no, she was really all right, but all evidence he had pointed to the affirmative. He hoped that she was alive; she'd become his friend over the past few days, and she'd come to mean something to him as well. It had only been an accident that she'd gotten in his way. If she'd stayed in her blasted place in the damned cave, none of this would've happened. The dragon would be dead and both of them would be handed over to Yubaba.
He gave a huge sigh, the breath escaping from his heaving horse sides in a giant wuff. Things weren't going at all as planned. Now he didn't even know where the little girl was, where the blasted dragon went, or how to get to anywhere.
Hard rain pelted his skull, beating the beautiful ebony mane into his neck and back. He sighed again and scratched at an itch on his chest with his nose.
Nothing was going right anymore.
A sudden sound caught his interest, and he flicked his ears forward to catch the sound. Hmm… That's it! The train was coming down the tracks, whistling shrilly.
He ran after the train, transforming into his human form a little more with every step. By the time he was halfway there, he looked like a centaur with a black burn mark in the shape of a ten-point star on his forehead; when he was about thirty meters from the station he was adjusting his newly-grown clothing, a slightly baggier than skin-tight black outfit. Finally, his breathing heavily labored, he arrived at the train station.
The train was coming just around the last corner, smoke billowing from the stack in huge puffs of green smoke. In the past five years they'd changed energy sources, and the smoke, in turn, was green. Onikisu ran his hand through his wind-blown hair and gave his head a hard shake to settle it into place. Maybe they'd still recognize him. Again he sighed. It'd be a long while before he reached the bathhouse, even on the train.
Oh well, he thought. I'll sleep on the way there. Conductor will wake me when we arrive.
Brakes screeching their indignant protest, the train ground to a slow halt. It issued a sigh to match Onikisu's as the pent-up steam let out in one quick whoosh. The tall metal doors, painted black to match the rest of the train, creaked open slowly. Onikisu was confronted by a tall burly man dressed in a light blue ticket taker's uniform. He held out one white-gloved hand to Onikisu, whom ignored it.
"Take me to Yubaba," he said slowly, clearly. "I am Onikisu. She's expecting me. Put the ticket price on her tab."
The ticket taker closely scrutinized his face, then bowed. Holding up both hands, he curled down his left pinky.
"Nine stops? Fine. Wake me when we get there." Onikisu brushed past the taker and stretched out on one of the padded benches. Arms crossed over his chest, he closed his eyes and drifted into a light, uneasy sleep. Dreams of a dying brown-eyed woman-child filled his mind, barring him from true relaxation and sleep.
The doors closed with a cutting finality as the train hugged and puffed away. A soft whistle filled the air, gaining shrillness as the locomotive gathered steam and speed. Onikisu glanced around at the empty station, shoved his hands in his pockets, and shuffled off down the tracks. Luckily there hadn't been much rain to flood the area; the water was only deep enough to cover the sole of a shoe.
After a short, brisk walk he was standing before the bathhouse. Warily he looked upon the monstrous building—five stories tall, the paint a bright red with green worn shingles. All about the place was a tired and yet comfortable aura.
Onikisu walked over to the red and yellow bridge, his footsteps echoing dully. Below him the train rushed by. It was still daylight: the bathhouse was closed and the village deserted. But the shadows were lengthening: it would soon be dusk.
Lounging on the railing of the overpass, Onikisu was found as the doors were thrown open hours later. He was staring disinterestedly at the beige-yellow planking below, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, and his brown pensively furrowed. A playfully breeze tugged at his softly golden hair as it had been for the past three hours. His face was deceptive calm.
Slowly the foreman approached him, his head barely coming up to the man's chest. "Master Onikisu? Yubaba wants to see you."
He signed heavily and pushed himself from the heavy wooden rail. "I know. It's about my mission, right?"
Upstairs Yubaba was furious. Her seven-year-old child, now skilled enough in his own wizardry, had shrunk himself to about the size or a normal human seven-year-old. He had the straw-colored hair of his aunt and mother, but the bright, clear brown eyes of his undiscovered father. The boy's hair fell in his eyes, a slightly curly mop, when he glanced up at Onikisu as the man strode through the door.
"Mama," he called, "Oni is here."
"I know, Boh. Thank you," came a tired voice from the other room, Boh's nursery.
His apparent job done, the child looked back down at his toys. He was sprawled on the floor wearing some kind of human clothing. Between his hands were two bags of marbles and a cup. His game consisted of tossing the marbles from one bag into the cup and then trying to knock the cup over with the rest of the marbles so that they spilled into the other, larger bag.
"You wanted to see me?" Onikisu ignored child and directed the question instead to the open nursery door.
The witch of the bathhouse stormed into the study. "Boh, darling, why don't you go play in your room? Mummy just finished cleaning." When the child had scampered out of the room and closed the door, she snarled at her apprentice, "Where are they? The brat and the traitor?"
Onikisu shrugged. "I don't know. Haku took her off somewhere while I was talking to you in the forest."
"They…" She sighed and sat down at her desk. "Fine…fine…"
He watched her carefully, waiting for her to blow up. Instead, she looked up slowly and smiled evilly. "Here's my plan…"
Onikisu listened closely, leaning his hip on the edge of her desk. As the plot continued, slowly he grinned; the mark on his forehead began to darken. When it drew to a conclusion, he was smiling just as wickedly as she and nodding. "Good, good, good plan, Master."
"Will you cooperate?"
"I will."
"Good. Bring her to me."
He was gone in a swirl of dark clothing and a wicked wind.
A week later, a loud crash startled Haku into awareness. Instinctively he reached for Chihiro's still body. He came fully awake when his hand touched just warm space.
She was gone!
