Arashi
Benzaiten
When Chihiro was only three years old, her mother dragged her to the book store. She had whined and pleaded for her mother to leave her at home so she could watch television, but her mother merely gripped her tiny hand and bundled her up in her warm little jacket and in moments, they arrived at a tiny little store off of Main Street.
It was not one of those super clean and bright mega stores, not small and charming but tiny and musty filled with thick, cheaply bound books. Chihiro had pouted and clung to her mother's hand until her mother pried her off and swatted her towards the children's book section. She did not understand why her Yuko did not want Chihiro to see the "romance novel" section. Sulking, as most people know, is only satisfying when there are those who can snort or better yet, comfort you around.
Alone and somewhat put off, Chihiro wandered the cramped aisles, bored out of her mind, until something in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. It was an oceanography book.
Something about that book caught her eyes. It wasn't the bright gold characters embellishing the top and nor was it the thickness, almost 2 inches, much too difficult for a child. It was the cover. The color. The waves. She had stared at the picture trying to remember something that seemed so familiar. Something at the bottom of her consciousness, so tangible she could almost grab it. The picture evoked something in her that day. It might have been the vividness of the blue. Or perhaps the mood but as she stared at it something stirred in her little mind.
:: A flash of a blue and fear and than riding the water on something grand and white and pure as mountain springs. Green. Protective green eyes. ::
And the deeper into her subconscious ness.
:: A lake. A woman. A palace beneath the waters that glowed like a pearl. And a woman sitting upon her throne her eyes as deep and magnificent as her realm. ::
She did not awaken from her trance until she felt Mother's frantic shaking of her shoulders and she looked up to meet Yuko's eyes, darkened with worry and she pointed reverently to the book which was propped quite innocently against a box. Chihiro could still remember that it was on sale.
"Enkai.", she whispered to her mother, as if the book would here them and become angry at being spoken about in such a clandestine way.
Her mother's hand on her shoulder tightened. She did not scold Chihiro for being a silly girl or for having strange fantasies. "O-Wata-Tsu-Mi", she corrected in a matching whispery voice.
" O-Wata-Tsu-Mi.", Chihiro imitated, stumbling over the syllables charmingly and yet still managing to look adorable.
"Yes", her mother sighed, trying to get Chihiro to turn her head so she could make her purchase.
"Who is O-Wata-Tsu-Mi, Mama?"
Yuko stiffened but bravely turned around to meet her daughter's curious gaze.
"A green dragon of the dark ocean." she replied truthfully and than her eyes filled with longing. "His tongue is the little current, lapping at your toes and his jaws are the tidal waves that swallow men and lives with but a crash."
"Will I see it someday? A dragon? A real dragon?" she was so eager, so excited by the prospect.
Her mother didn't answer.
When she had been sent to school and they were assigned to draw the island of Japan, Chihiro colored the ocean green to represent the emerald dragon of the sea. She received a good lecture and a warning. She still had the little picture. The islands were drawn to scale and in their precise locations. The geography was labeled. And the ocean around it was the color of undercooked peas.
Her mother took one good look at the picture and burst out into laughter. But not the kind a good mother used to make good humor at her daughter's delightful error but one of bitterness and irony.
From that day forth, Chihiro copied her classmates and made the sand a dull brown, skies light blue and the ocean, her wonderful ocean, a boring blue.
That was about the time she visited the Spirit World. She saw Kohaku's eyes. Lovely and green. His scaled were silver and white as foam on the sea. And she understood.
The ocean was many colors and many things.
She had been assigned to paint the ocean in her sophomore year for her portfolio. In quick impressionistic strokes that Chihiro usually disapproved of, she painted a river in greens and whites and shades of blue that some of her classmates did not even know existed. The three colors used together so skillfully, the professor was forced to admit that a lesser artist would have been unable to pull it off. And yet Chihiro herself never thought of it as finished. There was something missing. Something essential to it that she had not thought of yet.
She had kept the painting though the professor had offered her a considerable sum for it. It had meant too much to her.
And now she understood what it was missing. Darkness.
The deepest parts of the deep, immeasurable sea was black. Black eyes and black hair as dark as the River of the Dead.
How could someone's eyes be so dark and so bright at the same time.
As the woman advanced, Chihiro resisted the urge to bolt. Any other girl would have dismissed the ominous feeling emitting from the older woman as a silly notion in a pubescent head. But Chihiro was not an ordinary girl and the Spirit World had left its mark on her.
In the end, vigilance and intelligence amounted to nothing but instinct. Trust in instinct. And despite the fear rising in her body, she knew from her intuition that this woman would not try to physically harm her. So she kept her clamoring body still. Her smile was frozen on her pretty face. The woman smiled back emptily.
Every step on stage caused her kimono to shift slightly revealing the palest skin Chihiro had ever seen. It was not ghostly white nor was it sickly pale but the kind of skin that was bestowed on a woman that never needed to labor or tan in her lifetime. Her hair glowed beneath the lights, glossy, hair framing a smooth ageless face.
She had seen this face before. She KNEW her as surely as she knew the back of her hand. She was in the photos of her grandmother, of young Yuko and existed in her own face. This woman was an older version of herself.
And than the woman was beside her, reaching behind her for the spare biwa Chihiro had brought in case a string broke on her favorite one.
What was she doing?
The woman sat beside Chihiro and began to play with her. Her playing was incredible. Every pitch was matched in harmony or delightful discord adding dimension and an ounce of style that one instrument was incapable of achieving.
The guests, who had at first been uncomfortable because of the woman now were delighted. The matrons whispered that perhaps she was a paid performer who wanted to prove her skills. The gentlemen said that she was a distant cousin of Yuko's on her mother's side. Her face, the bridesmaid's commented, reminded you of Yuko when she was young; full of talent and an indescribably wisdom.
But Chihiro saw through the façade of vulnerability. The magic seeped off the woman like an aroma of too strong perfume. A small whiff was lovely but too much was frighteningly powerful. She was practically saturated with it. There was no doubt in Chihiro's mind. This woman had magic. This woman used magic. Hell. This woman WAS magic.
As the song ended, the crowd broke into a wild applause and graciously, both able performers curtseyed before the adoring audience before exciting the stage. Chihiro, once off the stage tried to break into a run but stopped when she felt a cold, smooth hand grab her wrist.
"Be still, girl. We have much to discuss." the older lady said, voice as smooth and dangerous as vintage wine.
Chihiro struggled to get out of her grasp and panicking cried out a forcibly polite response, "What do we need to discuss. You were a wonderful musician. I enjoyed the duet very much. Some other time. Good day." The hand held tight. After a moment, Chihiro relaxed and sighed. "Leave me alone." she whispered.
"So you know what I am.", the lady commented. "I would expect that of Yuriko's grand child. She was never clever but always had an open third eye."
Chihiro blinked. "What you are?" her tone was curious and she clenched her unmolested hand hoping the witch would fall for the act.
The witch frowned, "Stop playing the fool, girl. You knew the minute you looked into my eyes. I am of the Other World. I have come from the land of Spirits here to find you."
Immediately, hope swelled into Chihiro's heart.
"Have you come with Kohaku?" she cried. At last! He had come for her.
The witch-woman frowned. "I have not come under orders from anyone. I have come here for one reason and one reason only. To retrieve you. For myself."
Hearing this, the hope that had slowly begun to awaken in Chihiro's heart deadened again. So. She finally had gotten a visitor from the Other World and it was not Kohaku.
Noting her crestfallen face, the woman regretted her blunt words but steeled herself against such emotions. She had a purpose here.
"We need to talk. Now. But not here." she stated as if they were going to discuss what a scandalous neighbor was doing last Saturday night. "Come with me." She turned and walked towards the door out to the side parking lot. Chihiro watched her walk away. She could run now. The woman had let of her. But what if she did know of Kohaku? What if he was in trouble? Would it hurt to hear her out? A few simple words?
:: Yes ::
In Chihiro's heart she knew that a few whispered phrases could do more harm than one could imagine. But something drew her to this woman who had appeared out of the blue and awakened her senses.
Her hand went to her injured wrist and she felt something small there. Her hair band. Made for her by her friends. It would protect her with what little magic was woven into it.
And with that she followed the woman through the door way.
"I have little time left. Come.", she commanded imperiously and just as Haku done that day they first met, this woman took her hand in her and they ran like the wind through the parking lot, through the town until they reached a small temple, with a muttered word, door opened and in they went, passerby's shaking their head at the strange wind that blew across their faces.
They stopped before a small altar.
"Shichifukujin", Chihiro read aloud from the placard that hung above it. The Seven Lucky Gods. What were they doing here? Her mother would be looking for her now!
"In the land of the mortals, I have little power and what power I retain I lose as time goes by. But here, at this altar, I have some control." the lady answered.
The dingy little area of worship became a very beautiful and serene tea room. The tatami, shoji and even the ceiling was done immaculately and symmetrically displaying wealth and taste.
Out of thin air, a table appeared with tea and food. The woman knelt before it with more purpose than anything Chihiro had ever seen.
"Kneel girl." she snapped impatiently.
Not knowing what to do or where to run, Chihiro did the logical thing. She knelt down noting that her pretty dress had become a furisode of tempest blue with a lovely gold obi. There was one problem. She couldn't move in it. And of course she was afraid.
"There's no need to be alarmed." a clear voice commented. The woman.
"Where are we?" asked Chihiro trying to keep the fear from her voice. She had been brave before. But she was ten than, a fearless age.
"Haven't you guessed?" asked the woman, "We are in the Spirit World."
Biting her lip, Chihiro closed her eyes. The woman was not lying. Even from indoors she could hear the humming of life and a thousand spirits dancing and crying and laughing and living. This was the Spirit World. And she was not with Kohaku.
"Yes yes. You're back. Don't be silly. Take a deep breath. Don't faint on me girl. This world is but a piece of it I managed to snatch of for the moment." the lady scolded. With one hand, she offered Chihiro a small rice ball and when Chihiro looked at the ball fearfully, she gave a rather unladylike snort. "My god. You ate the food of the spirits last time. It will not kill you."
Words flashed through Chihiro's head. Passed lessons learned.
Of a goddess and a pomegranate.
The lady sighed and put down the refused food.
"You may call me Benzaiten. I am the Enchantress of Enoshima."
"The island?" Chihiro asked incredulously.
"No not the island. The Enoshima is a Tea House of the Spirit World."
"A tea house?" Chihiro's curiosity over rode her fear.
The Benzaiten nodded. "I have been watching you Ogino Chihiro. You have the MARK of potential. Your skills. Your talent. They whither in the realm of mortals, lost in your petty squabbles and brief lives. Come with me. Become my apprentice. You would be a great addition to my tea house. I will make it worth your while."
Chihiro's eyes widened. To be an apprentice...
Benzaiten hid a smile behind her sleeve as she skillfully wove a spell around the mortal girl.
The magic wound itself about Chihiro like inky fog. Twining in her hair and poisoning her blood.
Chihiro shuddered as she saw it.
Before her like a tapestry of temptation.
The brightness and utter glory that was the Enoshima. And she sat upon the stage with her biwa knowing nothing but the music...and the praise. She was their goddess.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Chihiro broke away from the enticement.
:: I have plenty of praise and music here. ::
And than another offer.
The darkness of temple walls. Murmuring and incense. And Chihiro lost amongst the many scrolls and secrets she could learn from her mistress...
:: Is this what she has to offer? Old scrolls and dead history? ::
Benzaiten shuddered as she felt the spell snap like a rubber band.
Falling back on her heels, the older woman turned her face so Chihiro could not the see the gleeful smile. The girl was strong.
And beginning to get up despite the tightness of the kimono.
"I refuse your offer", Chihiro said bluntly. "You have tried to control my mind with magic. I cannot trust you. I cannot respect you. I cannot learn from you."
Benzaiten looked up, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Truly? Are you more confident now that you feel as if you have defeated me?"
The younger woman's hands tightened into fists.
"I do not presume to know your strengths by one battle. But I do know now to trust my emotions. And my emotions say you are dangerous."
Benzaiten grinned, teeth like fangs.
A new spell wound around Chihiro's consciousness.
:: She was beautiful, strumming her biwa like a goddess of the sea. And Kohaku was there. He was REALLY there.
'You came to me, Chihiro!'
She would meet him again and in his own world...if Chihiro would only come with her... ::
Chihiro raised her hands to her head and squeezed her eyes shut. Slowly, the images ebbed away.
She looked up into Benzaiten's eyes.
Those black fathomless eyes.
And she realized with sudden clarity that that the sun was setting. Soon it would be night time.
The woman saw this too.
Chihiro watched from inside as the sun went down and the horizon became a myriad of colors from the palette of the night.
Benzaiten raised her chin. "Well than Chihiro. Outside this room is a little path, take it to the end and there is a small well. If you could jump into the well before the sun set ends, you can go home. But if you do not, you stay here."
Chihiro stared. Surely the woman was joking! And than she heard it.
The humming of the spirits had grown louder. This "little piece" was reattaching itself to the Spirit World!
Unsteady on her sandals, Chihiro sprinted down the path, noticing that the path was becoming fainter and fainter and fainter...
Soon there would be no path! The Earth was rising about her. The sky dimmed and she realized that the trees and the grass and the small mosses were shoving into her. Over powering her. Soon they would have her! One bramble caught her ankle and she stared down at it, tugging in fear only to trip backwards, feeling a snap as the branch split into two injuring her ankle.
And then nothing.
*** AN - Not as good as the other two I'm afraid. The first chapter always sounds so fresh until it is read a second time. There is always that moment of horror when an author reads his/her own published work only to realize that there's a mistake in it.
Thank you for the reviews. Seriously. Otherwise I would not have continued. I see the plot in my head. I even drew character designs. But without the reviews I would have probably kept the story to myself.
If you think MINE is the best, go to this and see me for the sham I am. I did not see this site prior to starting this story and after reading it, I realized how easy it would have been for me to never have discovered it. *shudder* Do yourself a favor and check it out.
Laters.
Benzaiten
When Chihiro was only three years old, her mother dragged her to the book store. She had whined and pleaded for her mother to leave her at home so she could watch television, but her mother merely gripped her tiny hand and bundled her up in her warm little jacket and in moments, they arrived at a tiny little store off of Main Street.
It was not one of those super clean and bright mega stores, not small and charming but tiny and musty filled with thick, cheaply bound books. Chihiro had pouted and clung to her mother's hand until her mother pried her off and swatted her towards the children's book section. She did not understand why her Yuko did not want Chihiro to see the "romance novel" section. Sulking, as most people know, is only satisfying when there are those who can snort or better yet, comfort you around.
Alone and somewhat put off, Chihiro wandered the cramped aisles, bored out of her mind, until something in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. It was an oceanography book.
Something about that book caught her eyes. It wasn't the bright gold characters embellishing the top and nor was it the thickness, almost 2 inches, much too difficult for a child. It was the cover. The color. The waves. She had stared at the picture trying to remember something that seemed so familiar. Something at the bottom of her consciousness, so tangible she could almost grab it. The picture evoked something in her that day. It might have been the vividness of the blue. Or perhaps the mood but as she stared at it something stirred in her little mind.
:: A flash of a blue and fear and than riding the water on something grand and white and pure as mountain springs. Green. Protective green eyes. ::
And the deeper into her subconscious ness.
:: A lake. A woman. A palace beneath the waters that glowed like a pearl. And a woman sitting upon her throne her eyes as deep and magnificent as her realm. ::
She did not awaken from her trance until she felt Mother's frantic shaking of her shoulders and she looked up to meet Yuko's eyes, darkened with worry and she pointed reverently to the book which was propped quite innocently against a box. Chihiro could still remember that it was on sale.
"Enkai.", she whispered to her mother, as if the book would here them and become angry at being spoken about in such a clandestine way.
Her mother's hand on her shoulder tightened. She did not scold Chihiro for being a silly girl or for having strange fantasies. "O-Wata-Tsu-Mi", she corrected in a matching whispery voice.
" O-Wata-Tsu-Mi.", Chihiro imitated, stumbling over the syllables charmingly and yet still managing to look adorable.
"Yes", her mother sighed, trying to get Chihiro to turn her head so she could make her purchase.
"Who is O-Wata-Tsu-Mi, Mama?"
Yuko stiffened but bravely turned around to meet her daughter's curious gaze.
"A green dragon of the dark ocean." she replied truthfully and than her eyes filled with longing. "His tongue is the little current, lapping at your toes and his jaws are the tidal waves that swallow men and lives with but a crash."
"Will I see it someday? A dragon? A real dragon?" she was so eager, so excited by the prospect.
Her mother didn't answer.
When she had been sent to school and they were assigned to draw the island of Japan, Chihiro colored the ocean green to represent the emerald dragon of the sea. She received a good lecture and a warning. She still had the little picture. The islands were drawn to scale and in their precise locations. The geography was labeled. And the ocean around it was the color of undercooked peas.
Her mother took one good look at the picture and burst out into laughter. But not the kind a good mother used to make good humor at her daughter's delightful error but one of bitterness and irony.
From that day forth, Chihiro copied her classmates and made the sand a dull brown, skies light blue and the ocean, her wonderful ocean, a boring blue.
That was about the time she visited the Spirit World. She saw Kohaku's eyes. Lovely and green. His scaled were silver and white as foam on the sea. And she understood.
The ocean was many colors and many things.
She had been assigned to paint the ocean in her sophomore year for her portfolio. In quick impressionistic strokes that Chihiro usually disapproved of, she painted a river in greens and whites and shades of blue that some of her classmates did not even know existed. The three colors used together so skillfully, the professor was forced to admit that a lesser artist would have been unable to pull it off. And yet Chihiro herself never thought of it as finished. There was something missing. Something essential to it that she had not thought of yet.
She had kept the painting though the professor had offered her a considerable sum for it. It had meant too much to her.
And now she understood what it was missing. Darkness.
The deepest parts of the deep, immeasurable sea was black. Black eyes and black hair as dark as the River of the Dead.
How could someone's eyes be so dark and so bright at the same time.
As the woman advanced, Chihiro resisted the urge to bolt. Any other girl would have dismissed the ominous feeling emitting from the older woman as a silly notion in a pubescent head. But Chihiro was not an ordinary girl and the Spirit World had left its mark on her.
In the end, vigilance and intelligence amounted to nothing but instinct. Trust in instinct. And despite the fear rising in her body, she knew from her intuition that this woman would not try to physically harm her. So she kept her clamoring body still. Her smile was frozen on her pretty face. The woman smiled back emptily.
Every step on stage caused her kimono to shift slightly revealing the palest skin Chihiro had ever seen. It was not ghostly white nor was it sickly pale but the kind of skin that was bestowed on a woman that never needed to labor or tan in her lifetime. Her hair glowed beneath the lights, glossy, hair framing a smooth ageless face.
She had seen this face before. She KNEW her as surely as she knew the back of her hand. She was in the photos of her grandmother, of young Yuko and existed in her own face. This woman was an older version of herself.
And than the woman was beside her, reaching behind her for the spare biwa Chihiro had brought in case a string broke on her favorite one.
What was she doing?
The woman sat beside Chihiro and began to play with her. Her playing was incredible. Every pitch was matched in harmony or delightful discord adding dimension and an ounce of style that one instrument was incapable of achieving.
The guests, who had at first been uncomfortable because of the woman now were delighted. The matrons whispered that perhaps she was a paid performer who wanted to prove her skills. The gentlemen said that she was a distant cousin of Yuko's on her mother's side. Her face, the bridesmaid's commented, reminded you of Yuko when she was young; full of talent and an indescribably wisdom.
But Chihiro saw through the façade of vulnerability. The magic seeped off the woman like an aroma of too strong perfume. A small whiff was lovely but too much was frighteningly powerful. She was practically saturated with it. There was no doubt in Chihiro's mind. This woman had magic. This woman used magic. Hell. This woman WAS magic.
As the song ended, the crowd broke into a wild applause and graciously, both able performers curtseyed before the adoring audience before exciting the stage. Chihiro, once off the stage tried to break into a run but stopped when she felt a cold, smooth hand grab her wrist.
"Be still, girl. We have much to discuss." the older lady said, voice as smooth and dangerous as vintage wine.
Chihiro struggled to get out of her grasp and panicking cried out a forcibly polite response, "What do we need to discuss. You were a wonderful musician. I enjoyed the duet very much. Some other time. Good day." The hand held tight. After a moment, Chihiro relaxed and sighed. "Leave me alone." she whispered.
"So you know what I am.", the lady commented. "I would expect that of Yuriko's grand child. She was never clever but always had an open third eye."
Chihiro blinked. "What you are?" her tone was curious and she clenched her unmolested hand hoping the witch would fall for the act.
The witch frowned, "Stop playing the fool, girl. You knew the minute you looked into my eyes. I am of the Other World. I have come from the land of Spirits here to find you."
Immediately, hope swelled into Chihiro's heart.
"Have you come with Kohaku?" she cried. At last! He had come for her.
The witch-woman frowned. "I have not come under orders from anyone. I have come here for one reason and one reason only. To retrieve you. For myself."
Hearing this, the hope that had slowly begun to awaken in Chihiro's heart deadened again. So. She finally had gotten a visitor from the Other World and it was not Kohaku.
Noting her crestfallen face, the woman regretted her blunt words but steeled herself against such emotions. She had a purpose here.
"We need to talk. Now. But not here." she stated as if they were going to discuss what a scandalous neighbor was doing last Saturday night. "Come with me." She turned and walked towards the door out to the side parking lot. Chihiro watched her walk away. She could run now. The woman had let of her. But what if she did know of Kohaku? What if he was in trouble? Would it hurt to hear her out? A few simple words?
:: Yes ::
In Chihiro's heart she knew that a few whispered phrases could do more harm than one could imagine. But something drew her to this woman who had appeared out of the blue and awakened her senses.
Her hand went to her injured wrist and she felt something small there. Her hair band. Made for her by her friends. It would protect her with what little magic was woven into it.
And with that she followed the woman through the door way.
"I have little time left. Come.", she commanded imperiously and just as Haku done that day they first met, this woman took her hand in her and they ran like the wind through the parking lot, through the town until they reached a small temple, with a muttered word, door opened and in they went, passerby's shaking their head at the strange wind that blew across their faces.
They stopped before a small altar.
"Shichifukujin", Chihiro read aloud from the placard that hung above it. The Seven Lucky Gods. What were they doing here? Her mother would be looking for her now!
"In the land of the mortals, I have little power and what power I retain I lose as time goes by. But here, at this altar, I have some control." the lady answered.
The dingy little area of worship became a very beautiful and serene tea room. The tatami, shoji and even the ceiling was done immaculately and symmetrically displaying wealth and taste.
Out of thin air, a table appeared with tea and food. The woman knelt before it with more purpose than anything Chihiro had ever seen.
"Kneel girl." she snapped impatiently.
Not knowing what to do or where to run, Chihiro did the logical thing. She knelt down noting that her pretty dress had become a furisode of tempest blue with a lovely gold obi. There was one problem. She couldn't move in it. And of course she was afraid.
"There's no need to be alarmed." a clear voice commented. The woman.
"Where are we?" asked Chihiro trying to keep the fear from her voice. She had been brave before. But she was ten than, a fearless age.
"Haven't you guessed?" asked the woman, "We are in the Spirit World."
Biting her lip, Chihiro closed her eyes. The woman was not lying. Even from indoors she could hear the humming of life and a thousand spirits dancing and crying and laughing and living. This was the Spirit World. And she was not with Kohaku.
"Yes yes. You're back. Don't be silly. Take a deep breath. Don't faint on me girl. This world is but a piece of it I managed to snatch of for the moment." the lady scolded. With one hand, she offered Chihiro a small rice ball and when Chihiro looked at the ball fearfully, she gave a rather unladylike snort. "My god. You ate the food of the spirits last time. It will not kill you."
Words flashed through Chihiro's head. Passed lessons learned.
Of a goddess and a pomegranate.
The lady sighed and put down the refused food.
"You may call me Benzaiten. I am the Enchantress of Enoshima."
"The island?" Chihiro asked incredulously.
"No not the island. The Enoshima is a Tea House of the Spirit World."
"A tea house?" Chihiro's curiosity over rode her fear.
The Benzaiten nodded. "I have been watching you Ogino Chihiro. You have the MARK of potential. Your skills. Your talent. They whither in the realm of mortals, lost in your petty squabbles and brief lives. Come with me. Become my apprentice. You would be a great addition to my tea house. I will make it worth your while."
Chihiro's eyes widened. To be an apprentice...
Benzaiten hid a smile behind her sleeve as she skillfully wove a spell around the mortal girl.
The magic wound itself about Chihiro like inky fog. Twining in her hair and poisoning her blood.
Chihiro shuddered as she saw it.
Before her like a tapestry of temptation.
The brightness and utter glory that was the Enoshima. And she sat upon the stage with her biwa knowing nothing but the music...and the praise. She was their goddess.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Chihiro broke away from the enticement.
:: I have plenty of praise and music here. ::
And than another offer.
The darkness of temple walls. Murmuring and incense. And Chihiro lost amongst the many scrolls and secrets she could learn from her mistress...
:: Is this what she has to offer? Old scrolls and dead history? ::
Benzaiten shuddered as she felt the spell snap like a rubber band.
Falling back on her heels, the older woman turned her face so Chihiro could not the see the gleeful smile. The girl was strong.
And beginning to get up despite the tightness of the kimono.
"I refuse your offer", Chihiro said bluntly. "You have tried to control my mind with magic. I cannot trust you. I cannot respect you. I cannot learn from you."
Benzaiten looked up, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Truly? Are you more confident now that you feel as if you have defeated me?"
The younger woman's hands tightened into fists.
"I do not presume to know your strengths by one battle. But I do know now to trust my emotions. And my emotions say you are dangerous."
Benzaiten grinned, teeth like fangs.
A new spell wound around Chihiro's consciousness.
:: She was beautiful, strumming her biwa like a goddess of the sea. And Kohaku was there. He was REALLY there.
'You came to me, Chihiro!'
She would meet him again and in his own world...if Chihiro would only come with her... ::
Chihiro raised her hands to her head and squeezed her eyes shut. Slowly, the images ebbed away.
She looked up into Benzaiten's eyes.
Those black fathomless eyes.
And she realized with sudden clarity that that the sun was setting. Soon it would be night time.
The woman saw this too.
Chihiro watched from inside as the sun went down and the horizon became a myriad of colors from the palette of the night.
Benzaiten raised her chin. "Well than Chihiro. Outside this room is a little path, take it to the end and there is a small well. If you could jump into the well before the sun set ends, you can go home. But if you do not, you stay here."
Chihiro stared. Surely the woman was joking! And than she heard it.
The humming of the spirits had grown louder. This "little piece" was reattaching itself to the Spirit World!
Unsteady on her sandals, Chihiro sprinted down the path, noticing that the path was becoming fainter and fainter and fainter...
Soon there would be no path! The Earth was rising about her. The sky dimmed and she realized that the trees and the grass and the small mosses were shoving into her. Over powering her. Soon they would have her! One bramble caught her ankle and she stared down at it, tugging in fear only to trip backwards, feeling a snap as the branch split into two injuring her ankle.
And then nothing.
*** AN - Not as good as the other two I'm afraid. The first chapter always sounds so fresh until it is read a second time. There is always that moment of horror when an author reads his/her own published work only to realize that there's a mistake in it.
Thank you for the reviews. Seriously. Otherwise I would not have continued. I see the plot in my head. I even drew character designs. But without the reviews I would have probably kept the story to myself.
If you think MINE is the best, go to this and see me for the sham I am. I did not see this site prior to starting this story and after reading it, I realized how easy it would have been for me to never have discovered it. *shudder* Do yourself a favor and check it out.
Laters.
