Rivers Always Claim What is Their Own

Chapter 2: Kohakunushi's Worst Fear

By: LadyRainStarDragon

I don't own Spirited Away. I will never own it, but I can write.

No idea what inspired this, but I liked it after it was written. This may or may not be part of my continuity, depending on how 'Rivers Keep Flowing" ends.

Miles downstream, if you squinted just right, you could make out the form of a white dragon skimming through the water, checking for blockages, ecosystem health problems, garbage to toss out and all the other things a water dragon does for work. Although he looked like he was enjoying himself (too much at times if he caught you littering his home) something was bothering him. The very wind and earth seemed to be holding its breath or railing against something that shouldn't happen.

Snorting out his annoyance, he dove to the bottom of the river. A patch of the river weeds had called his attention, and he noticed that one in particular was dying, although none of the others were.

'Strange. This one was in perfect health just yesterday.'

As he nudged it with his nose, exploring the problem further, the wind began to whip the surface of his river into a frenzy where he had broken the ice. The fish, who had until then been resting peacefully, exploded around him into chaos. Gliding upwards, he quickly broke water to hear what the wind kami wanted. As his head cleared, the wind carried to his ears something that froze the blood in his veins.

"No. Nigihayami Kohakunushi!"

Water and Wind roared together. The white dragon streaked through the air, low enough to the ground to hopefully find his most precious possession. His Priestess and beloved mate was in danger.

What he found when he finally found her, made him sick. Over there, was the staff her grandfather had passed down to her, and there were her arrows. Her bow was broken, and her clothing torn. Blood showed through in some areas, and her body lay as if someone had r . . .

'No. Please no.'

He drew nearer, sniffing carefully as he listened for a heartbeat. It was there, just barely, but it was fading fast. He caught the scent of two males, and what else he smelt nearly sent him into a fit of rage. His Priestess had been profaned! Not just injured, but profaned!

"H-haku."

His form wavered and shifted to his human one, carefully kneeling beside her.

"Who did this?"

With great effort, she rolled her eyes in the direction that the tracks followed.

"That way. It was the two who have been coming to the shrine every day."

He knew who they were. They had prayed to him often enough to watch over their little sister's spirit. They had not been able to save her from their crazed younger brother. The man had taken her life as well as her own. He did not know where they lived, but he would have his retribution.

"Not much time left. Light is getting so bright. I have to go soon."

"NO!"

The broken woman drew a shaky breath. The long training in self-control was starting to fail her. Her speech began to waver even more than it had been.

"My body is dying Haku, they did more to it then just have their way with me."

"I'll heal you!"

"I don't want to live anymore, my love. What they did to me, the body will never forget. I just want to go home. I have another trial to go through before I can rejoin with you. They call me, Haku."

Blood trickled from her mouth, and he saw the damage that had been done. He felt sick again, but refused to purge himself before the dying woman. It was true, with everything that had happened, her body would never forget. Best to let the body perish before her soul gained the tarnish. It pained him to admit it though. He could see her aura fading, contracting into itself in order to leave the shell behind. Her soul rose from the flesh, still perfect and shining as ever.

"Seven years, my Nigihayami Kohakunushi. Then we will know if I may go home with you, or face the Fires of Purification first. Till then, I must wander here. I need rest now."

She faded from his view, leaving only her mortal shell behind. The heart stopped, and he roared all his pain, rage, horror, sorrow, and vengeance for all to hear, whatever plane they may exist on or within whatever world. The other kami of the area heard and trembled in fear for the humans. The fate that now waited for them would not be one to wish upon one's worst enemy. They could only hope that the powerful dragon had not completely taken leave of his senses and lash out against all in the area.

'They shall pay, my Chihiro. I will make sure that you can rest in peace.'

A streak made its way to the river and dove down deep. That night, the waters rose, flooding the land around for miles. The only places that were untouched were the Shrine Compound and the site of the gruesome occurrence. Strangely enough, not much was damaged, despite the water that had raged. The only damage done had been to one home occupied by two men. They raved to the rescuers about a ferocious river dragon, avenging the murder of his Priestess and love.

The two men had been found on top of the home, with broken bones, large gashes that looked like marks from fangs or claws about their loins, their male anatomy missing, and the word profaner carved deeply into their chests and foreheads. Strangely, the water seemed to be surging upwards toward them, and burns developed on their skin whenever the water touched them.

In their ravings, the duo confessed to the murder and rape, and begged the police to protect them. It was declared that the severe wounds on the two were inflicted by each other in a fit of panic and guilt. The burns were explained away as some weird allergy to the water. They were locked away for their crime, as the DNA evidence left within the body of the woman found earlier matched with theirs.

They were tormented by a 'specter' in their cells for the rest of their short lives. The prison had even called in the local exorcist priest to banish the 'specter' for them, as prisoners on the same block complained about problems with the toilets and loud roaring nightly, coinciding with the 'ghostly visits'. The priest refused though once he set eyes on the prisoners, saying this manifestation was the will of the River Kami and he would not go against the will of the kami for vengeance of the priest's own mother. That night, the attacks intensified. Two months after conviction, they hung themselves with their underwear, terror etched forever into their faces. The scars of their old wounds, including the justified brands on chest and forehead, had been reopened by razor sharp talons.

Her body had already been burnt in the old Shinto style, as had been done before the influence of Buddhism in Japan, the ashes dumped into the waiting river. A mini-shrine was erected to her just outside of the public shrine to the resident kami. It was the place that the yarrow sticks had indicated, and everyone knows that the kami could express himself through the yarrow stalks. It was rumored that late at night, you could see the river kami and the kami of the spring feeding the river there, praying for the soul of the Priestess to overcome her trial. Of course, the family of the Priestess also prayed there. Some even said that her American friend and her husband came to pray at times, but only at night to be gone by morning's light.

Over time, people said that they could see her walking along the path from the Shrine to the town. It was a much younger version of her, how she had looked in her mid to late twenties according to those who had known her then. She wore the blue and white traditional to her shrine, carrying the staff now used by her daughter, a quiver of the hamaya on her back along with a bow. It was said that she protected women who walked alone at night from rapists and robbers, and that you should turn back if she warned you to. Her mini-shrine became almost as popular as that of her kami, for the simple fact that every parent or husband would pray for the safety of their female loved ones when alone.

On the anniversary of her death, you could see the Priestess and her kami easily if you went to the murder site and sat in a ring of salt and five white candles. You had to be silent though, for one noise, and the scene would dissolve before your eyes. Each year, the river grew restless about three weeks before the fateful day, but always was dead calm for three weeks afterward.

Five years passed, and those who were brave enough to attempt watching the ghostly meeting were always surprised to hear what the two called each other. It was almost as if she was married to the kami if one didn't know how silly that was. Always they talked of how soon she would be able to go home, the state of the Shrine, and of how her children were faring without her. The kami always shed silent tears when she faded away, lost to him again. Some remarked how much the children of the deceased Priestess resembled him, and speculation about who she had really married began to circulate again for the first time in years.