Disclaimer: I own many boxes of Oreos, but Spirited Away is all Miyasaki's.
Haku studied the path below as it traced down into the water. Nearly 5 years had passed now since Chihiro left, could she possibly remember this world of his? Those funny clothes, that determination, the smile on her face whenever he came near, all those little parts of her had kept him alive. He sat in thought as Lin rattled away at the stove downstairs, and the faint patter of her footsteps clicked through his ears as she dodged webs of decay on the walls from the abandoned baths. Yubaba was long gone, and with her the clients.
Kimaji still kept to his boiler room duties, but he no longer had to grumble at bath tags from the pipes. They were merely faded squares now, kept around the buildings, and one had to but grab one from a vacant wall and send it down to have a good bath. Haku liked to watch the man mumbling memories to himself in the early dawn as the lights were kindled and there was nothing else but the touch of sunlight across the cliffs to intrigue the mind.
Indeed, the entire place was lonely now, with only Master Haku and a legion of 20 women to hold on to the scant remains. He and Lin had laughed the other day about his marriage prospects. He knew that he could never grow to fully love these women: none of them were Chihiro. Even Lin, with her cloak of arrogance over a soul of gold, had a tender spot for the young master, who sadly watched the train pass by each morning and always hoping that his one and only would come home.
At this particular moment, Haku was reconsidering his last sight of Chihiro. He knew that if she had turned around, she would never have been able to live on her side of the world. Yet he had the strange feeling that she didn't turn around because she didn't care. She had almost turned at the tunnel, but stopped herself. He sighed resignedly.Lin was always saying how unreasonably worrisome he was. It felt so much more useful not to think.
The sunset was beautiful: shades of yellow, red, and lavender mingled lazily over the window. The horn of a train below was strangely softer than usual, barely recognizable in the lazy evening. What a night, he thought. He searched his memory and illuminated a random vision of Chihiro onto the window pane. How cute she looked, framed by the sunset. Running his long fingers down the screen, he thought about how she must have grown. She would be fifteen years old now, he imagined. A woman.he blushed at the thought.
With a sudden burst of angry inspiration Haku hit his head against the desk. A tear ran down to the scratched surface as he breathed heavily, and presently was followed by many more. Anger, loneliness, and hurt amassed over 5 years spilled out onto the weak wooden boards, and such was the battle of emotions in his heart that the soft pat of footsteps outside of his door was unheard. Thus, Lin slipped into the elevator with a harsh stamp of her foot, and the worry over her dear friend grew yet again.
Haku studied the path below as it traced down into the water. Nearly 5 years had passed now since Chihiro left, could she possibly remember this world of his? Those funny clothes, that determination, the smile on her face whenever he came near, all those little parts of her had kept him alive. He sat in thought as Lin rattled away at the stove downstairs, and the faint patter of her footsteps clicked through his ears as she dodged webs of decay on the walls from the abandoned baths. Yubaba was long gone, and with her the clients.
Kimaji still kept to his boiler room duties, but he no longer had to grumble at bath tags from the pipes. They were merely faded squares now, kept around the buildings, and one had to but grab one from a vacant wall and send it down to have a good bath. Haku liked to watch the man mumbling memories to himself in the early dawn as the lights were kindled and there was nothing else but the touch of sunlight across the cliffs to intrigue the mind.
Indeed, the entire place was lonely now, with only Master Haku and a legion of 20 women to hold on to the scant remains. He and Lin had laughed the other day about his marriage prospects. He knew that he could never grow to fully love these women: none of them were Chihiro. Even Lin, with her cloak of arrogance over a soul of gold, had a tender spot for the young master, who sadly watched the train pass by each morning and always hoping that his one and only would come home.
At this particular moment, Haku was reconsidering his last sight of Chihiro. He knew that if she had turned around, she would never have been able to live on her side of the world. Yet he had the strange feeling that she didn't turn around because she didn't care. She had almost turned at the tunnel, but stopped herself. He sighed resignedly.Lin was always saying how unreasonably worrisome he was. It felt so much more useful not to think.
The sunset was beautiful: shades of yellow, red, and lavender mingled lazily over the window. The horn of a train below was strangely softer than usual, barely recognizable in the lazy evening. What a night, he thought. He searched his memory and illuminated a random vision of Chihiro onto the window pane. How cute she looked, framed by the sunset. Running his long fingers down the screen, he thought about how she must have grown. She would be fifteen years old now, he imagined. A woman.he blushed at the thought.
With a sudden burst of angry inspiration Haku hit his head against the desk. A tear ran down to the scratched surface as he breathed heavily, and presently was followed by many more. Anger, loneliness, and hurt amassed over 5 years spilled out onto the weak wooden boards, and such was the battle of emotions in his heart that the soft pat of footsteps outside of his door was unheard. Thus, Lin slipped into the elevator with a harsh stamp of her foot, and the worry over her dear friend grew yet again.