Disclaimer: I do not own Spirited away.
Waiting, waiting, waiting. It seemed that she had spent her whole life endlessly waiting. Yearning for him to return. Wanting him to keep his promise to her.
Kohaku…
She gazed unseeingly into the swirling depths of the river, her slender hands cradled in her lap, unconsciously stroking her most precious possession in the world. It sparkled radiantly, catching the last rays of sunlight and scattered them about. A simple purple hair band. She had worn it for years after her return, as a reminder not to forget. But now, with all her chestnut locks fallen out from the treatment, it was impossible to do so anymore. Yet she kept it on her person at all times. Made with the love and friendship of Bou and No face, created by the magic of Zeniiba; it had protected her. It was her sole comfort and only physical proof that it was not all a dream.
It could not be a dream. That was what she told herself day after day. She refused to believe that the spirit world was not real. After all, dreams do not leave you with strange sparkly hair ties. Dreams do not make you fall in love with them.
No. He was definitely not a dream.
She sighed. A habit she had fallen into every time she thought about him. The boy who had changed her life so drastically many years ago. The dragon boy who had protected her and saved her. The young boy who she never doubted would return.
So she waited.
Days passed. Then weeks. Soon the seasons changed. The years melded together.
She could have waited for him forever. But it seemed that her time was running out. The doctors had given her a year to live. And that was 9 months ago. She remembered when they had told her she was going to die. The news had shocked her into withdrawal, choking the cry in her throat and squelching the tears that threatened to burst forth. She had been 16 then. Her life was barely beginning. That night whilst she lay in bed, tangled in her sheets, she had broken down and cried in the quiet. Through wretched sobs, she had begged for Haku…for Kohaku, for her dragon boy to come and lend her his inner strength and calm. But as always, her pleas went unanswered.
Her parents convinced her to undergo treatment, and she agreed. A flame of hope kindled in her despairing mind. But in the end, the treatment had been futile. The disease had spread rapidly, further sinking its evil roots into the entity of her body. Nothing could be done. Hope lost, she adamantly refused anymore treatment. Her parents had not argued. They had been there for her first therapy session. Her mother had held her hand whilst they stuck the needle into her. Her father had braced her shuddering body as the drugs took effect. Her mouth had been locked into a silent scream.
Kohaku…
She lifted her face up to meet the cool evening breeze, revelling in its cool touch upon her skin. A distant rumble told her that a storm was drawing close. It would arrive soon. Drawing her jacket tighter around her skinny frame, she got up from her chair and immediately stumbled and fell. Gritting her teeth in determination, she dragged herself to the river bank. Thin as she was naturally, the disease had eaten away at her body to the stage where her bones protruded obscenely against her skin. As time went by, her movements, normally bursting full of energy and vigour, became slower and more unsteady. She had to become accustomed to having her parents do the simplest tasks for her. She couldn't even eat by herself.
Leaning slightly forward, she studied her reflection in the water. Pale complexion, sad smile, and grim hazel eyes. Her face looked incomplete and lacking without eyebrows and eyelashes. Laughing, she recalled how she had tired to draw them back on after all her hair fell off. Then she remembered the hysterical tears that had followed after. She cut off in mid-giggle and her features returned to their sombre expression. Running a hand lightly across the river surface, she watched dispassionately as her image marred and dissipated.
Yes. She was going to die. Yet she was not afraid. Death did not scare her anymore. In the months following the traumatic news, she had somehow come to peace with her death. Now she viewed her last struggles as a race, with the finish line looming ahead, promising oblivion, promising eternal rest.
And she was tired, so tired of running. Her mother tried to put up a brave front for her, but she knew that in private, her mother would cry. She would weep for her daughter who would never get a chance to finish high school. Never be able to go out on her first date, or receive her first kiss. Her father handled his grief differently. He decided to take the night shift at the restaurant so that he could spend more time with her during the day. Together they would watch movies, make up recipes in the kitchen or just talk about everything and anything.
On some rare days, when her condition allowed it, he would take her for a walk in the countryside, her frail body supported in his arms. She loved those times; the wind in her hair and her father's strong stable heart, beating just beneath her ear.
Everyday he would sit her by the river that flowed through the town. Then he would disappear, always returning just as the sun set. She was glad for the privacy of those evenings. It was a pleasant change of scenery from the four boring walls of her bedroom. She did not like to be wrapped up in cotton-wool, treated as preciously as glass. Yet her mother persisted in doing so. Sometimes she felt a strong kinship to Bou, Yu-baaba's huge baby, and often wondered if he had ever broken free of his mother's apron strings.
Yet with all the frustration that she harboured from the stiflingly over-protective attitude of her mother, she never once complained. The guilt of causing her parents to suffer so much grief over her weighed heavily on her spirits. Parents should never have to bury their children.
So she let her mother baby her. After all, there wasn't much time left to do so.
Her father, on the other hand, understood her need for solitude. What she knew he didn't comprehend, but never questioned, was her need to be near running water.
Truth be told, the sound of it made her feel closer to him. And she wanted to spend as many days left to her, feeling as close to him as possible. If she still held on to hope, maybe he would come. Even if it was just to say goodbye.
Her patience never wavered. Her trust in him held absolute. A promise was a promise, and she knew that he would never readily break his word. Even though their time together had been painfully short, deep down in the depths of her heart and soul, she knew him.
He would come. Eventually Kohaku would come for her. All she had to do was wait. Closing her eyes, she pictured him in her mind. His emerald eyes excluding such compassion and faith in her. His smile, so rare yet when he chose to direct it at her, overwhelmingly heart warming. If she strained hard enough, she could hear his voice calling out to her amidst the gurgling of the river.
Chihiro…
Her eyes snapped open.
Chihiro…
Her breath caught. That voice. It was…
Heart thumping loudly with anticipation, she lifted her head slowly.
"Chihiro! What are you doing on the ground! You'll catch a cold, sitting on the wet ground like that." A deep voice chided gently.
She sighed. A single tear flowed down her cheek and fell with an inaudible 'plop' into the rushing water. Strong arms enveloped her and lifted her up to rest against a warm chest.
"Come on now, let's go home. Your mother's probably worried sick by now"
"Yes dad." Chihiro snuggled into his embrace, partly to get closer to his heartbeat, but mainly to hide the tears in her eyes. "Let's go home."
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He was free.
After years spent in toil, slaving away in the sludge and slime of the bath house, he had finally worked off his debt. He was finally free. Free to return to her.
To Chihiro
His debt was paid, his contract over. His name and identity was his own. Now he had a promise to keep.
Leaping into the air, he transformed. His human body stretched and lengthened, pearly scales erupting from his skin. Soaring in the skies, he bared his fangs and roared his elation and triumph.
To freedom…to Chihiro.
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Dear (gentle, haha) readers,
Hope you guys enjoyed the story. I really enjoyed writing it to the soundtrack of Spirited away. So swoon away over the romantic scenes (soon to come up), cry over poor Chihiro's pathetic fate and wait in agony whilst I take my time updating…heheheh…BUT whatever you do, don't forget to give me your opinion! Ok? Also, feel free to ask any questions about the story in your reviews. Just as long as there as many compliments and such included!
P.s. I PROMISE to update within the month. If not, can someone please remind me!
theLilyLady
