Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“How much longer are you going to sleep?” An impatient voice asked, nudging me awake.
The voice came and went like a sound my mind had conjured. I ignored it, letting myself fall back into the profundity of my slumber, before I was nudged again.
Who?
My head ached as I tried to rise out of the depths of sleep and recall where I was.
Late for something… School? No… I feel like I haven’t been to a school in a while. I can’t remember why, though. I let out a groan, scrambling to make sense of it all.
“Is it… time to work?” I mumbled, my eyes still shut.
“Nope!” Lin exclaimed, “Haku-sama gave us all the day off, saying we deserved it after all these years. He gave a whole speech apologizing and everything. You really missed out, a few people even cried. I don’t know if it was from his speech or from the day off, though.”
Lin’s voice felt far away, like it was being carried through from another room. I tried to reach for her, but my limbs felt like weights. Any control over them was someplace distant, like there was an internal disconnect. Somewhere in the back of myself, I started to become aware of my heart racing.
“Hey, come on!” She tried again, seeing that I still wasn’t budging, “The whole bathhouse is gearing up for a big party.”
With what felt like a grand effort, I peeled my eyes open, momentarily blinded by the setting sun, bright through the open door. I struggled to fight the exhaustion pulling me down, unsuccessfully attempting to prop myself up with a shaky arm.
I could wiggle my right fingers and toes, but the whole left side of my body was beyond me. As good as gone. A lump formed in my throat, my eyes swelling with tears.
“Lin… something’s not right,” I turned to her, my vision unfocused.
Has she always had three heads?
“I c-can’t… feel.”
Amidst my swirling sight, I could faintly make out what seemed like concern on her face. She threw my covers back, and gasped at what she found underneath.
“Your arm! What is this?”
In my periphery, I could see that she had cautiously lifted my arm up. My forearm had gone completely black, though I couldn’t feel a thing.
“Have you had this since last night?” Lin asked in disbelief. I had never seen her make such an expression before.
“This is bad. This is bad,” She muttered to herself, scrambling to her feet, “I’m going to go get help!”
She raced out, before running back in the room, panting, “Try and stay awake, okay?”
I gave her a weak nod in response, but I could already feel myself drifting off.

I was in someone’s arms. They were carrying me somewhere, their grip around me tight. I was too asleep, too far away, to be able to tell who it was, but I could feel their concern. My head leaning against them, I moved with the rise and fall of their chest, the rapid pounding of their heart speaking to me while its anonymous owner remained silent and stoic. No, I think I knew who it was. I didn’t know, but somehow, I knew.
Around me, there was the chattering of voices. Through my daze, I felt like I could hear the makings of my name. I couldn’t tell what the voices were saying, or who they were, but somehow the feeling of it came through to me. Distantly, I could feel a smile form on my lips. I was around people who cared about me very much.

My mind raced in confusion, thoughts swirling as I settled on the present. Images flashed through my head, and I scrambled to distinguish the memories from flashes of dreams, until the dreams faded away faster than I could hold onto them.
I hadn’t even been aware that I had fallen asleep, the passage of time feeling like a drunk few seconds— everything moving fast and slow at the same time. Once my mind felt less murky, I could recall an image of Lin running from the room in a panic.
Right, my arm.
With everything that had happened upon arriving at the bathhouse, I had completely forgotten about the state of my arm, thanks to Hebi’s help numbing it. With the sleeves of my coat, no one would have been able to notice it, either. I winced at the thought of seeing what my left arm had been reduced to, considering that it had sent Lin running.
I hope no one blames themselves, I thought, knowing that I was around some characters who very much so would.
Interrupting my own thoughts, I suddenly became aware that somebody was holding my hand. They must have been holding it for some time, because the feeling felt so natural that I hadn’t even noticed anything, as if it was my own flesh. A movement caught my attention once the holder brought their lips to my hand, their breath warm on my skin. They were mumbling something; I could feel it in the rapid movement of their lips, yet it was quiet enough that I couldn’t hear it. It felt like a prayer. Or an apology.
Opening my eyes, I saw that I was back in the guest room of Haku’s quarters. The bed was as comfortable as I remember, yet the room somehow felt more inviting, despite no visible differences.
Staring straight ahead at the mirror, I saw my disheveled self: streaks of dirt and soot across a sickeningly pale face, and my hair a tangled mess, with strands sticking to my face where I must have at one point been sweating. Next to me, sitting on the armchair which had been brought right to the side of the bed, Haku rested his head on the bed, my hand clutched in his.
I let my gaze go down to his face, where he hadn’t yet taken notice of me coming around. He was lost in thought, his brows furrowed together as his eyes appeared to be someplace else entirely. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I ate him in, observing the details of his face I had missed after constantly averting my gaze. Or rather— thinking back to my past nerve-wracking conversations with him on this very floor: being so focused on maintaining eye contact that I had missed everything else.
Watching Haku from this close, I noticed his skin had a faint glimmer to it like the sparkle of moonlight on water, traces of the magic running through him. I had not been blind to the fact that he was good-looking, but looking at him now, I held back the urge to trace his features with my finger. It was like seeing a fine painting at a museum and knowing you’re not meant to do more than look; you can’t help that your hand itches to touch the painting, to trace the strokes of the brush and feel the details missed by your eye, until you understand the body of art as deeply as if it was your own.
With his fox-slanted eyes, the curve of his thin but pronounced eyebrows, his sharp nose framed by a carved jaw and pointed chin, he was the perfect mix of delicate and intimidating. He had a captivating beauty that was almost otherworldly— no, it was. I had never seen a man with such a perfect combination of features like him.
For a second, I found myself thinking that it just wasn’t fair. How was I ever supposed to find a human man attractive after being around so many beautiful gods and spirits? Not just Haku, but Ryujin, Okuri, even Kuroto, Hainu’s fiancé. I had initially thought it was just the aura they carried, or the glow of their energy, but no, there was something about their looks that you just didn’t find in humans. They didn’t make you do a double take— you never looked away in the first place.
Still, with all that being said, Haku stood particularly different to me. Was it because I knew him better? Because I could still point out the parts of him I knew from 9 years ago, even as his appearance evolved? Even with the icy look he used to carry, I found myself so drawn in at times that I had to make a conscious effort to look away from him— like if I didn’t look away, I would just be completely consumed by him.
In another world, I found myself thinking, I could see him being very popular, turning heads at every corner. Although— who’s to say he wasn’t here? He doesn’t have Yubaba controlling him anymore, and once people get past that and see how thoughtful and kind he really is… I didn’t finish the thought, suddenly struck with an odd prick of jealousy that left me confused.
My hand must have twitched, because those earth-green eyes of his slid over to mine, making my chest flutter in response. At the sight of me awake, his head suddenly shot up, broken out of his rumination. He buried his face in his palms, letting out a sigh of relief. I watched as he silently raked his hands through his hair, his thoughts a speech I wasn’t privy to. My hand felt suddenly cold where his skin had been against mine.
“How long have I been out?”
“Two hours, maybe,” he spoke, lightly shaking his head.
“Have you been here this whole time?” I asked, my curiosity poking out before my shyness could take surface.
He shot a look my way, before staring straight ahead. With his hair tucked behind his ear, I could see that his ears were burning red, prompting a similar response from me. After a second, Haku gave me a weak nod.
“The others stopped by earlier, too,” he said, suddenly getting up to leave, “Everyone is really worried about you. I should let them know you’re awake.”
“Don’t leave just yet,” I said, impulsively grabbing his arm, “Just… stay with me a little longer, please.”
I was surprised by my own reaction— my body almost seemed to move before my mind did —but I wasn’t ready to let go of his proximity just yet. If anything, I wanted more of it. My head was still a mess, and I itched for the comfort his presence surprisingly brought me.
Haku obediently sat back down, a look of his guilt on his face.
“How do you feel?” He asked after a moment, the concern in his voice palpable.
I looked to my forearm, where bandages had been neatly wrapped around my wound, “It stings a little, but I’ll be okay.”
“We cleaned up your wound and applied a salve, but it’ll take some time for it to heal. And…” He hesitated, a pained look on his face, “I’m afraid it’ll leave a scar. I’m sorry, Chihiro.”
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, yet it did. I had never gotten an injury bad enough to leave a scar. A permanent mark on my body that I didn’t have any choice on. I clutched my bandaged arm, trying to picture the scar covering my whole forearm, unavoidable if I ever wore something sleeveless. Even if I covered it up, it would always be there, underneath the layers, my skin altered forever. Visible everyday when I bathed, or got dressed. Felt even with my eyes closed.
Yet… no feelings of anger or sadness rose up in me. I felt a shock, that was undeniable, but I knew it was something I would get over. With time, I probably wouldn’t even notice it anymore. After all, it wouldn’t change who I was. If anything, it would serve as proof of my time in the spirit world. It would be a reminder to be grateful, because even if it looked horrendous and people gave me looks, I had come out of the situation stronger, with an arm that still functioned just fine.
“There are worse things to live with,” I shrugged, mustering a smile, “It’ll be my memory of my time here, proof that it wasn’t just a dream.”
“I don’t want you to be left with the reminders of the pain you had to endure here,” Haku shook his head, “If only I had come to a little sooner…”
“I want to remember it all— the good and the bad. Because the bad lets you appreciate the good,” I set my hand on his, “Like how you saved me. You came right when I called for you.”
Haku absorbed my words. He didn’t seem entirely won over, but the troubled crinkles in his forehead were smoothing out. After a moment of consideration, he got up and took a quick look outside the door, before shutting it and sitting down again.
“Chihiro,” he began, his expression pensive, “I can’t do anything about the emotional scars, but I can do something that will fully heal your wound right now.”
My body perked up in interest, my physical reaction proving that the possibility of an unscathed arm was more tempting than I had led myself to think. Was it really possible, though? If there was a way to heal me completely, why had they not already done it? I let the proposition sit in the air, dubiously waiting for him to continue.
“Do you remember how I got hit by one of Yubaba’s fire balls on our way here?” He asked, continuing when I nodded, “I didn’t get the chance to tell you, but it had healed completely by the time we made it to the bathhouse.”
Haku turned and lifted up the back of his shirt, exposing where he had gotten hurt. Bare skin greeted me, glistening against his lean frame. I reached my hand out without a second thought, gliding my fingers against the soft surface. His skin was cool to the touch, and more muscular than I had expected. Most importantly, there was no scar, or even a hint of any burn.
“How…?” I marvelled out loud, already knowing full well that the spirit world was full of different types of magic I could never begin to understand.
“As a dragon spirit, I possess some healing properties. They’re stronger here, now that I’m the master of the bathhouse. If we connect our energies, I could heal your wound,” he told me.
An injury that would only occur in the spirit world healed by something that only exists in the spirit world. It made sense, and as the stinging pain in my arm began to come back to the surface, I didn’t see any obvious reason to decline his offer. Otherwise, I was probably looking at weeks to months of recovery. Still, hesitation nagged at the edge of my mind.
I stared at Haku, his face serious and resolute. Somehow, I couldn’t help but feel that he was hiding something. There had to be something else to it, because otherwise, why had he made sure that nobody was listening? I couldn’t see how else his actions could be interpreted.
“What are you not telling me?” I asked him upfront, the skepticism clear in my voice.
“W-what am I not telling you?” He repeated, sounding like I had asked the question he had been dreading.
“Yeah. What’s the catch?”
He took a deep breath before bleakly shaking his head, “The catch is that we would do this by exchanging a morsel of our essence with each other. When I infuse my energy into you, your body will make up for the overflow of energy by letting some of your energy shift over to me. For that reason, it’s generally frowned upon to do it with a human.”
“Why?”
“Because it essentially alters the make-up of your essence. The new energy adapts to the body, balancing itself out, but your energy is forever changed. Even if you don’t feel it, you are no longer the same.”
Haku waited as I silently worked it out in my head. “So… a small part of me will no longer be fully human. And a small part of you will be human. Then… will your powers be weakened? Is it dangerous?”
“No, it’s not dangerous. To the people of this world, it would just be… wrong. Humans and spirits are not meant to interact. To infuse each other with energy would go against the balance created in this world.”
“Spiritual energy is stronger than human energy. Deities like me have spiritual cores that regenerate lost energy, so it’s not harmful. Like I said, nothing will feel different. The most that would happen is that your lifespan might get moderately extended while mine might slightly reduce,” he shrugged.
“Haku, that is not a small thing. Do you seriously expect me to agree to something that would take years off your life?”
“The habitants of the spirit world have much longer lifespans than what you’re used to, Chihiro. A few measly years means nothing.”
It was true, and I knew it to be true. I couldn’t guess how old Yubaba and Zeniba were, but I knew a legendary dragon like Ryujin had to be at least a millennia old. Still, what was some pain and a scar to years off the life of someone I cared about?
“Please, Chihiro, let me do this for you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine, “You’ve already had to endure so much because of me.”
I looked into his eyes, wrought with worry and guilt, his under-eyes dark in comparison to the pallor of his skin. It caught me off guard, and I realized that perhaps I had underestimated how much he truly cared about me.
How much are you hiding behind those eyes of yours? It was not just about me, I knew. He was sitting with the guilt of everything that had taken place under his rule. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that no one held it against him, but I knew such superficial consolation couldn’t remove the weight of his burden. All I could do was be there for him, and hope that might ease the pain, even if a little bit. I only hoped that I was as much solace to him as he was to me.
His forehead was still against mine, and we sat like that a moment, the touch of his skin against mine providing both comfort and a zing of elation. How could it be possible, I wondered, for someone made of different energy, born in a different world, to already feel so familiar to me? I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for us to exchange energy. Thinking about it, with his face inches from mine, it felt like something incredibly intimate. It would make us closer than just our bodies touching, like this. We would be a part of each other, forever changed. How tempting that would be.
Nothing so intimate, so transcendental, existed amongst humans. It was so intimate yet so dangerous— I could understand how it was frowned upon to do it with a human. Just the mere thought of it, with his face so close to mine, made me shake, and I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or excitement.
Still— I couldn’t help but feel Haku was downplaying the effects it might have on us.
“Haku…” I breathed, my hands pausing an inch from his chest, “Will you give me some time to think about this?”
“Of course,” he blinked, “Of course, it’s your decision."
He promptly stood up, widening our distance in a beat, “I’ll leave you to rest. If you need anything, I’m just up the stairs.”
The door lightly clicked shut. The room felt much more quiet without Haku in it, and I found myself eager to break free from the sudden loneliness. Peeling back the thick duvet, I got out of bed, stretching my sore limbs.
I scooped up the snake that had been perched on a pillow beside me, bringing it down to the ground. “Go on, Hebi, I’m fine now,” I told the snake, “You can go take a look around the bathhouse while I wash up.” The snake looked back at me hesitantly, giving a hiss before slithering away.
Once in the bathroom, I drew a bath, taking my time to explore the overly large room as I waited for the clawfoot tub to fill up. Somehow, I had never gone inside during my previous visit to the guest room.
The walls were a light taupe with white wooden paneling, elevated by ornate golden sconces. A large mirror hung above the marble countertop, its gleaming frame making my reflection look like a painting. The faucet of the porcelain sink was a golden swan, with its craned neck and beak serving as the spout while its wings were the levers. The wooden cabinets underneath were detailed with a gold trim, and upon opening them I discovered plush towels and an array of unused toiletries.
As I turned back towards the filling bath, the brown herringbone flooring gave way to beige marbled tiles underneath the tub. On either side of the bathtub were lush green plants with blooming white flowers. Vaguely, I wondered whose job it was to keep plants like these watered. I held a delicate petal between my fingers, internally confirming that they were indeed real.
Next to the tub sat a velvet-upholstered stool with a silk robe draped across. With its teal hue and medley of floral illustrations, it stood out amongst everything else in the room. I swapped my sweaty clothes for the bathrobe, my bare toes greeted by a soft bathmat as I shed my slippers.
An antique table standing against the wall displayed a row of bath salts and essential oils. I recognized them as the very same ones that I had been told to not to waste with the guests. I picked out a few and sprinkled a pinch of them in the tub, careful not to be overindulgent, despite no frog breathing up my neck about it.
Once the bath was nearly ready, I stepped into the shower. I took care not to wet my bandages as I washed off the sweat and grime I had accumulated over the past two days. The water ran cool over my skin, waking me up without being shocking. I let myself think of nothing—or no one —else but the feeling of the water rushing over me, taking all that I shed down with it in the drain.
I got into the bathtub with a clearer mind, my thoughts organizing themselves out of the jumble they had made themselves into, as if my confusion had gotten scrubbed out in the shower. The bath was a fragrant pool of warmth, the steaming heat seeping deep into my bones, assuaging the aches in my body.
What now? Okuri’s question echoed through my mind. I had put off really thinking about it until now, like it was something I had been dreading. There was an obvious course of action: I went back to the human world. I went back to my normal life, and with time, my memories of my time here would fade until it felt like nothing more than a dream.
Already, last night felt faraway, like a dream. It was hard to believe that overnight, it had all come to an end. I had spent the past few weeks driven by one goal, and now that I had achieved it, I felt almost… dejected. Or confused, rather. Because now I didn’t know what I was moving towards. It was similar to the feeling you get the day after your birthday party. You spend all that time planning, excitedly looking forward to your big day, and then within a few hours it comes and goes. The moment you had been looking forward to has left, leaving you to wonder how you lived before, with nothing tangible to work towards. After everything, going back to a life of lectures and exams just felt so inconsequential.
I sighed. I should feel relieved— Haku was okay. Everything with Yubaba had been taken care of. I was perfectly safe. I did feel relief, but… underneath that was a looming sense of sadness. Like something was ending. Something that I didn’t realize I had enjoyed while it was happening. I had been looking to the future the whole time, driven by saving Haku and the bathhouse, but now I felt myself looking back at the past few weeks wistfully. How could life in the real world ever be the same after all this?
I sat with my knees to my chest, only just noticing the view outside the window. Next to the bathtub was an arched floor to ceiling window, looking out over the view from the other side of the bathhouse. There wasn’t much to see at night, but beyond the shallow body of water, I could make out twinkling lights in the far distance, teasing at towns a journey away. There really is a whole world out there.
Back in Tokyo, I often fantasized about travelling the world, visiting different countries and cities— but part of the fun of fantasizing is the hope that it’ll actually happen. The possibility that it’s real. Yet, here, there was still so much to see, to discover, combined with the reality that I never would get the chance to. I had gotten a good glimpse of the spirit world this time, but if I had taken away anything, it’s that the spirit world was a mystery that always kept its inhabitants on its toes. Just when I would start to think that it was not that different from the world I grew up in, something always managed to surprise me. It was a fact that left me both excited and afraid— something far too different from the predictable comfort of the world I was used to.
There had been moments during my time here that I felt a deep yearning for my old life, even as the memories of it evaded me and and the feeling couldn’t be put into words. A longing for homework, classes, the mundanely of it all. For Tokyo, the bustling streets, the packed metros and convenience stores that were still open at midnight. For my family, my friends. The love I felt at the thought of all those things made my chest throb. I missed my old life, it was true. Yet, to say that I was completely willing to leave the spirit world and never return after everything I’d gone through here wouldn’t be true, either.
I remember feeling immensely relieved when I left the last time. It had pained me to say goodbye to Haku, but I couldn’t have run away faster. Haku told me to not ever look back, not until I had reached far away, and I did so more than willingly. I was full of fear until I had rejoined my parents. Even then, I didn’t breathe easy until we were back in the comforting familiarity of our car, driving away from it all.
I was too young back then. I didn’t know what it meant to leave and never look back. I couldn’t have known what I had to let go of to do that. I didn’t think about how leaving meant that I would never see any of them again.
And maybe it was just that. Maybe it was so easy for me to leave back then because I had been a child. Because I didn’t know what it meant to feel nostalgic, to feel wistful. I didn’t know how rare it is to find kind strangers who are willing to help you, because it’s not so rare when you’re a child. If I had the same choice now, was I certain that I could leave without looking behind me?
Now, I wasn’t sure I could bear the thought of never seeing the people I had met here again. Or of knowing that I would never experience the magic of this place again. If only there was a way that I could freely travel between both worlds, I sighed. Was it greedy of me to think this way? How could I explain that to Haku— or to anyone else, for that matter? There was probably nobody who could understand it. No, I realized just then. There is no one else who can understand it. If a human is ever lucky enough to leave the spirit world in one piece— as I did as a child —they don’t leave with their memories. The realization brought a chill down my spine.
How could I be expected to do something so difficult? To leave is one thing, but to not even remember all the people I’ve met here? Maybe this is what Haku said, about the world balancing itself out. After all, how could I long for something I didn’t remember? “But it’s not that simple!” I wanted to say to whatever forces were at work. I didn’t remember anything from my time here as a child, yes, but the mark it had left on me had remained. I spent my whole life feeling like I had been forgetting something important, and chasing that feeling had brought me right back. After one day in the spirit world as a child, I had grown into someone who was interested in old tales and legends and explored abandoned shrines in my free time. What would become of me after spending weeks here?
I took a deep breath, bringing my train of thought to a halt. I won’t let myself go there.
Ultimately, there was no use mulling over it— I knew that I had to go back. This was not my world. I had met some truly exceptional people here, but if offered up a choice, I wouldn’t part from my family and friends for good, or from the life I had been building for myself. Plus, the more I thought about the small things about life here, about the help I had been lucky enough to receive… the more I realized that I did not belong. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to come to that conclusion. Even though I knew what I had to do, I was grateful to have the privilege of time to emotionally prepare myself.
I got out of the tub, suddenly eager to distract myself with work. Even though Haku had given everyone the day off, I was sure there was still something to be done.

There was a clean set of clothes when I came back in the room. It was not the bathhouse’s usual uniform, but rather a linen top and skirt. A tender feeling tugged at my chest as I realized I couldn’t even begin to guess who might have left me the clothes— Haku, Lin, Okuri? In such a short amount of time, I had found so many people who cared about me. How could I ever express how grateful I was? I mused as I shed my towel, switching into the fresh clothes.
The black robe-like top wrapped around my torso, tying at the waist where it met the skirt. The skirt was a silvery-blue colour, layered with two shades of linen. It had a loose and comfortable fit, reaching my ankles. Despite its simplicity, it was a surprisingly stylish outfit that I could even see myself wearing on the streets of Tokyo. A quick knock came at the door just as I stepped into a pair of bamboo sandals that had been left with the clothes.
Lin entered, rushing over to give me a tight hug, “You idiot. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I’m sorry, Lin. I didn’t mean to give everyone such a scare.”
I could very clearly recall her expression as she saw my arm. Even amidst my daze, I could remember thinking that I had never seen her so afraid, this friend of mine who didn’t take much seriously.
“You should be sorry,” she said, giving me a whack on the shoulder, “Anyway, I’ll help you get ready. The party’s about to start!”
“‘Party’?” I repeated, disoriented by how rapidly she had changed subjects.
“Yes! I told you about it before— well, I guess you probably don’t remember.”
It was only just then that I realized this was the first time I had seen Lin wearing anything other than work clothes or pyjamas. She was wearing black robes that just went past her knees, with a triangle of red flowers stitched at the waistline. Her bangs had been brushed to the side, and her hair had been braided and tied into a bun, finished with a red flower that matched her clothes. I think I could even make out a hint of makeup on her face. While it wasn’t a drastic change, her beauty had come out in a more refined manner than her typical appearance. She seemed more mature, like I was finally seeing a woman in her thirties. I suddenly saw an image of a strong-willed woman who belonged better as a leader than a follower.
“You look very pretty, Lin,” I told her, though it felt like far too mild a word.
“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you can,” Lin waved dismissively, unable to hide the pink hue her cheeks had gained, “Now, sit down.”
Lin guided me over to a chair in front of a vanity mirror, and began brushing my hair in silence. Watching her focused expression in the mirror as she braided the upper half of my hair, I couldn’t help but think that this is what it must feel like to have an older sister. Someone who nags at you but still cares for you, despite everything. When I thought back to how she begrudgingly helped me as a child, and even now, it was true: I had found a sister in Lin. How bittersweet of a realization to only have now.
I bit back the tears springing in my eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye to her soon. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing as me: that we would never have a moment like this again. Lin, Haku, Okuri. Zeniba, Boh, Kamaji. Even all the bathhouse workers. How could it be that I would soon have to say goodbye to them forever?
Lin started to hum absentmindedly, and I felt like a fool. The entire bathhouse was in a jovial mood, yet I was being such a downer. It would be a waste to spend these precious moments being sad or fearful of the future. I had to make the most of it. Just let yourself be proud of what you’ve achieved, and be with your friends, I told myself. Plus, while it was true I had to go back to the human world, surely my life in the human world could wait another day or two as I granted myself some time to say my goodbyes and prepare myself.
“How was it with Haku?” Lin asked, securing my braid with a hairpin.
I started. I had been so preoccupied thinking about my inevitable return that I had completely forgotten about my conversation with Haku, and his proposal. I summarized our conversation for Lin, thinking that it might help to speak about it out loud with someone else.
“That idiot,” Lin muttered once I repeated what Haku had said.
“What?” I asked, feeling like my suspicions had been confirmed— there was still something he had been keeping from me.
“Look,” she sighed, putting a hand to her forehead, “There’s something you have to understand. This energy exchange— or kirikae — that Haku was talking about, it’s not something you do impulsively, or with just anyone. It’s typically something you only do once in your life. Think of it as something even more intimate than getting married.”
The thought made my chest flutter in response. Once in your life? To have such certainty, such trust and faith in your bond… If I was understanding Lin correctly, it sounded like kirikae is something you do with the person you consider to be… your soulmate. Surely Haku has to be aware of that. Had I not been facing a mirror, I wouldn’t have known it was possible for my face to turn red so quickly.
“That’s why kirikae are not incredibly common, especially with deities or upper beings like Haku, who often care more about how their powers might be affected. Of course, to do it with a human… honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it happening before— but then again, I don’t really run in those types of circles.”
“S-so…” I cleared my throat, my face still as red as a tomato, “What should I do, then? I— it obviously makes no sense for us to do this. Something this… intimate… and deep has no right taking place with a human. And I don’t want to cause any trouble for Haku— or harm.”
Lin took a few steps around the room in silence. I had not expected her to take my predicament so seriously— or give up on the opportunity to make fun of my crimson face. I was touched by how deeply she seemed to be ruminating over what I had said.
“As much as that twerp gets on my nerves at times, Haku’s not stupid,” Lin admitted, rolling her eyes, “I think he put more thought into this than it seems. Even if there are risks, it doesn’t seem like it’s anything he’s not prepared for.”
Seeing my expression, Lin took on a more gentle tone, “Listen, girl. There are some people you only meet once in your life. Not everyone is lucky enough to meet them twice.”
Somehow, my conversation with Lin had left me even more conflicted. What’s more— I now felt far too shy to bring it up with Haku. How could I even face him after what I had learned? The Haku I knew put careful thought into everything. Yet, he’s asking me to do something even more intimate than getting married, for goodness sake! I didn’t know if I should be mad at him or embarrassed.
“Hey, don’t think about it for now,” Lin gave me a nudge, “Let’s go have some fun! You deserve to celebrate your success.”

The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived, the sound of laughter and music filling my ears before we had fully made it down.
The entire main hall had been elaborately decorated, with lanterns of various shapes and sizes and colourful paper garlands hanging from the walls and ceilings. Vines of white wisteria were wrapped around the red pillars, greeting partygoers with a sweet scent.
Instruments were being played by a band of bathhouse workers, who seemed to be relishing the opportunity to show off their musical prowess. Long tables were lined with succulent food and bottles of drinks that people were constantly filling their glasses with.
Despite everyone having a day off, it seems like a lot of work has taken place.
Seeing me admire the decorations, Lin yelled over the music, “Haku-sama helped with his magic!”
Just then, I noticed Haku amidst the crowd, on the opposite end of the room. Despite myself, my heart swelled at the sight of him. Still, I didn’t feel quite ready to face him just yet, after what I had learned from Lin. I grabbed Lin’s arm, pulling her further into the crowd, where I spotted Okuri.
“Sen!” Exclaimed Okuri, joining my side in a few brisk steps.
Something about the eagerness in his eyes was reminiscent of a dog that had spotted its master in the crowd, bringing a smile to my face.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice cool, though the clenched fists he hid behind his back betrayed his agitation, “I had meant to check on your earlier, but I didn’t want to bother you so soon.”
“I’m fine now, Okuri, thank you. I hope I didn’t worry you all too much.” I said, though the worry was still quite evident in his golden eyes, which kept sliding down to my arm.
How anyone thinks he is scary is beyond me, I thought to myself, remembering that there was a time that I, too, found him to be intimidating. I knew now that Okuri had a big heart, but it admittedly was true that with his constant serious demeanour, his stoic look, and the sleek way he carried himself, he didn’t offer any hint of warmth. He seldom smiled, and on the occasion that there was any change on his unreadable face, it was usually to bear a frown. Yet, once you looked past that, there was really an innocence to him, a simplicity to his ideals of unwavering loyalty and care around those who earned his trust.
“Please know that if there’s anything you ever need, you need not hesitate to ask me.”
Lin snickered by my side, causing Okuri to look down in embarrassment, hiding the slight colour that had livened up his cheeks.
“Well then,” Okuri cleared his throat, giving us a deeper bow than necessary— which made me embarrassed in return while, Lin, for her part, wore a smug smile.
I suppose she is the older one among us.
“Oh, right,” Okuri said, backtracking, “Sen, a letter just arrived for you. I had it sent to the room upstairs.”
“A letter?” I frowned, wondering who it could be from.
Before I could ask Okuri more about it, I was bombarded by a group of frogs and slugs who seemed to have just caught sight of my attendance at the party.
“Sen! Sen!” Called various voices.
“You did it!”
“It’s all thanks to you!”
“Let’s all cheer for Sen!”
“Actually, everyone,” I cut in, “My real name is Chihiro. And I couldn’t have done it without—.”
“Chi-hi-ro! Chi-hi-ro!” The whole room began to chant.
Before I knew it, arms had gathered around me, tossing me up in the air. Despite my surprise, I found myself laughing. I hadn’t been thrown up in the air like this since I was a child. It was thrilling, but I felt completely safe. Looking around at all the spirits, I wondered if they, too, could regain their names and the freedom that comes with it.
“That’s enough!” A stern voice called out.
Everyone froze, turning towards a frowning Haku.
“She’s hurt. She still needs to take it easy,” Haku explained, gently pulling me down from the bed of arms holding me up.
As his attention remained on me, the whole room seemed to sigh in unison, relieved that that was the extent of his anger.
“Right, right.”
“Chihiro’s too nice to say it.”
“She needs to rest.”
“As expected of Haku-sama."
“He’s such a gentleman,” said a slug.
“So thoughtful,” a frog swooned.
For my part, all I could pay attention to were Haku’s sturdy arms, which still had not completely let go of me, despite the fact that I was now standing on my own feet. I was relieved to see that no one had taken notice of how nervous his touch had made me— with my eyes wide and my lips twitching, I felt like I wouldn’t be able to control my expression even if I tried.
“T-thank you. Anyway, Lin and I were just about to go eat,” I said, leaving Haku behind in the dust as I grabbed Lin.
I hadn’t realized until I had said it, but I really was hungry— it must have been over a day since I had last eaten, and much longer since I had been presented with a feast of food in front of me.
“Chihiro-san! Let me serve you!” A slug offered, filling up a plate with a variety of dishes.
“No, Chihiro-san, let me!” A frog exclaimed, piling up another plate with even more food.
“Please, Chihiro-san, try some of this!” Another voice said.
Before I knew it, my vision was surrounded by an overwhelming amount of plates and bowlfuls of food being offered up faster than I could respond.
I might be hungry, but I don’t think I’m that hungry.
“Hey! Back off!” Lin yelled, nudging some of them out of the way— though not without taking some of the offered up plates for herself.
“Tch, so two-faced,” Lin muttered, “One day they’re gossiping about you, the next day they’re sucking up to you.”
“Can you blame them?” I shrugged, “Anyway, they’re just showing how grateful they are.”
Lin eyed up the long queue for the drinks, and turned back towards the eager workers,“Why don’t you get us some drinks, too, while you’re at it?”

There was nothing like a party with people you had grown fond of. Everyone in the bathhouse seemed to have shown up: Kamaji had come out of the boiler room, Boh was swinging around Yubaba in her birdcage, even the tanuki had gained a crowd while they showed off their shapeshifting tricks. I felt like no matter what happened, the joy I felt in this moment would always remain with me. I chatted, laughed, and danced with almost everyone.
The band was made up of traditional instruments, so needless to say, I was not used to this kind of party music. It was not the kind of music you could jump around to— though somehow, some people were. Still, the melody carried a jive to it that made you happy, and made your body sway in response to the picking of the string instruments.
I was never much of a dancer, my movements being far too stiff, so to find a way to dance to the rhythm of the music felt awkward. Yet, no matter how much I protested, Lin eventually succeeded in pulling me into the crowd of dancing partygoers. There wasn’t much pressure to be good, especially since most people had already become intoxicated by whatever drinks were being served. Admittedly, though I had only had a few sips of the sweet wine, I could feel its relaxing effect on my body, loosening up my limbs. I closed my eyes and let myself sway to the music, flowing the length of my skirt around like an extension of myself.
It had been so long since I had been so devoid of any sort of tension. My thoughts couldn’t be drawn to anything but the present, because it was taking place so vividly in front of me. I felt so light and free that I couldn’t help but giggle.
When I opened my eyes, Haku was watching me, the ghost of a real smile on his lips. I immediately turned my back to him, suddenly embarrassed, like I had been caught in a secret act. When I turned back, he had already moved on as if nothing had happened.
Haku lurked at the edges of the room, momentarily disappearing in the crowd as he worked his way up and down, occasionally greeting a worker or engaging in a brief conversation with a stiff smile on his face. On the surface, he seemed bored as he stood against the wall, blankly staring forward. But the more I looked, the more I noticed as his eyes anxiously scanned the crowd, like he wanted to make sure everyone was having fun— that they could have fun around him. For their part, the workers didn’t seem to mind him, truly letting loose, but as he would get near, all eyes would curiously be on him. Drawn to him. They were interested in seeing his next move, but not in the way he must have thought.
I made eye contact with Haku from across the room a few times, my eyes constantly seeking him out despite myself, before my own shyness would force me to break it. It was like my eyes couldn’t help but find themselves there. I was enjoying myself, but I was curious to see if he was too. I wanted to see how the party was through his eyes. If it felt as magical to him as it did to me.
After becoming distracted by an animated conversation with Lin and some of the other girls on the topic of desperately needing new uniforms, I suddenly lost sight of Haku. He must have left, I surmised, because I couldn’t find him no matter how much my eyes scanned the crowd. A strange feeling surfaced in the pit of my stomach, as I realized that something about the act felt eerily familiar. It dawned on me just then that throughout the years, I would often scan crowds as if I was searching for someone, but I just didn’t know who, or why. It was something my eyes couldn’t help but do whenever I was in a crowded place. I couldn’t figure out who or what I was searching so desperately for, but it felt like everything would click once I found them again, and until then, this feeling would remain in me. The reminder of what my previous visit to the spirit world had left me like in the human world brought a sick feeling to my stomach. The party— the dancing, laughing, music, it all suddenly became too much. I felt myself getting dizzy.
“Hey, Lin. I’m just going to get some air, cool down for a bit.”
“Everything okay?” Lin asked, concern plain on her face. Last night’s shock was still far too fresh on her mind.
“Yeah, just feeling a little overwhelmed. I think I just need some space for a few minutes, to recharge.”
She nodded, following me out of the room with her eyes before resuming her conversation with the girls.
I peeked my head out of doors and windows, occasionally stumbling into wandering partygoers. Nowhere gave me the privacy I desired. I made my way upwards, deciding somewhere along the line that my best shot was to go up to Haku’s quarters for a brief respite. I wasn’t sure I liked how different Haku’s quarters were from the rest of the bathhouse— it felt so isolated —but in moments like these, I couldn’t help but appreciate the silence and peace that came with it. This place used to be the very source of my anxiety, but now I found myself craving the comfort I could find within it.
The excitement of the party felt so far away once I went through the colossal wooden doors that I nearly wondered if I had dreamt up the whole party. It wasn’t until I made my towards the balcony’s open French doors that I could hear the faraway sound of laughter and music.
“Needed a break?” A voice asked as I stepped outside.
My stomach jumped, but not with fear.
There you are, the person I wasn’t even aware I had been searching for.
“Something like that,” I replied, my eyes not leaving Haku’s.
“Me too,” he said, turning his gaze away, “I had hoped you might join me, though I was glad to see how much fun you were having with everyone.”
He was leaning against the railing, staring out at the town and the scenery beyond it.
“Even back then, I figured that any human would have been freaked out, disgusted by these creatures that you suddenly had to work with, yet you were always so kind to everyone that came your way. So unprejudiced. You just… believed in the goodness of people,” he smiled wistfully.
“I believed in the goodness of people because the first person I met here proved to me that I could.”
Haku turned to me, his smile carrying a sad air with it, “I’m not as kind as you think I am, Chihiro. I was selfish, even then. I wanted to save the girl who had once fallen into my river.”
“You knew? From the first time we met, you knew it was me?”
“Of course. I could never forget someone who was bold enough to jump into a coursing river for their shoe. I could never forget the energy of someone like you,” he told me, taking a step closer, “Even this time, when you came back, I could feel in my bones that I knew you, despite the voice in my head saying otherwise. Even when there was an internal battle waging in my head, I couldn’t help but feel the need to check up on you. You brought out a tenderness in me that I thought had been erased with the rest of my identity. You felt important to me, and that unsettled me. But I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t do anything about… anything.”
He shook his head, turning away from me again.
“Haku… nobody holds you responsible for what happened.”
He said nothing for a moment, his back expanding as he took a deep breath. “I may not be much of a god, but I still have a duty to protect those who put their trust in me. To right the imbalances in the world. And I failed that.”
“It doesn’t matter if it was me or Yubaba. I wronged the people of this bathhouse, and got you hurt in the process. Nothing can change that,” he took a shaky breath, “I don’t know how I can face them, Chihiro. Or… you.”
“You’re right. Nothing can change the past,” I replied, moving in front of him, “But we have control over our future. You can make it up to them by being a kind and fair leader, and staying true to your word. Give them memories so good that it completely overshadows the bad.” I put my hand on his cheek, keeping his thoughts from dragging him away, “If they didn’t believe in that, and in you, do you truly think they would have let you peacefully go back up to your quarters? Or even attend the party?”
He looked into my eyes, his eyes searching, desperately searching. Suddenly, he enveloped me into a tight hug. I wrapped my arms tightly around him in return, and I could feel some of the tension leave his body.
“Chihiro…” He whispered, “Even as a child, you gave me more courage than you could ever imagine.”
I breathed him in. His scent was overwhelmingly fresh, like a waterfall with hints of citrus. He smelled like a nostalgic summer’s day. He smelled like a promising spring night. My past and my present.
“You too, Haku. Whenever I would feel close to giving up, I would think of you,” I said softly, bringing my head back to face him. Even now I found his honesty empowering me.
“You asked me earlier if I needed a break from the party. No, no,” I told him, shaking my head, “I needed you. I was looking for you. I feel like I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
He took me in, a mild look of surprise on his face. We were breathing each other’s air, our faces mere inches from each other. There was no room to be shy, no escape from the snug embrace of his arms. All I could do was take him in the way he was taking me in. I urged myself not to look down at his lips, the feeling of our kiss still lingering in my memory. I wondered if he even remembered me kissing him, considering he fainted a mere seconds later.
“You remembered me?” He asked, pulling me from any thoughts of his lips as his arms returned to his side.
“No… I didn’t,” I mumbled, stepping towards the railing, feeling like I might disappoint him, “I didn’t remember anything or anyone. I only remembered that day as the day we had a slight detour on the way to our new house. Though, I do remember that I suddenly wasn’t as upset about moving as I was before.”
“It’s not like things were really different after that,” I continued, “I made lots of friends. I was a good daughter… most of the time. And I was a decent student, well liked by the teachers— they would always tell me that I was more mature than most kids my age.”
Haku nodded in agreement. Joining me at my side, he sat down on the stone floor, his legs dangling over the balcony’s ledge. I followed suit, my legs crossing through the gaps in the railing’s balusters.
“My life was pretty normal,” I shrugged, “But I also had much more anxiety than other kids my age. Especially around my parents. I had a lot of nightmares that first year. But by the time my parents would come running into my room, asking me what was wrong, I couldn’t even remember the dream, or what scared me so much. Eventually the nightmares stopped, but I would still dream of the spirit world from time to time. They took on a different feeling when I was older, though, because it felt like as I was waking up, I was losing the answer to the question I had been asking at the back of my mind.”
“As I grew up, I had this lingering feeling that I was forgetting something really important. Something that would explain why things often felt so off to me. I would wonder, sometimes, if something was wrong with me,” I admitted.
“Despite everything... Were you happy?” Haku asked.
“Yes. I was, and I am. I am so grateful for my upbringing, for my life. For the most part, I learned to ignore that voice inside of me that believed something was missing. I had almost accepted that that feeling would just always be a part of me. But then, sometimes I would get this deep ache of yearning, like I was missing somebody, someone dear to me, but I didn’t know who. All I knew was that everything would be in its right place if I could see them again. Somewhere inside me, it felt like I would never be… complete without that clarity, without putting that final puzzle piece in its place.”
I had never voiced these thoughts out loud to anyone. I had barely even voiced them to myself. Haku listened on, a pained look in his eyes.
“You know,” I laughed, “I was painting recently— a dragon —and someone pointed out that I paint this dragon a lot. Some days, I could visualize the dragon better than other days, but I think it was you.”
“You’re a painter?” Haku asked, impressed.
“Not really. I mean, I do like to doodle sometimes. I think this was for a class, or something like that,” I shrugged.
Haku looked into the distance, his expression difficult to interpret.
“Tell me more about your life in the human world.”
“There’s not really much to say,” I laughed awkwardly, suddenly aware that I had been talking a lot, “I go to university, I… I work part-time at a café.”
“A café?” Haku titled his head in confusion at the foreign word.
“Yeah, kind of like... a public teahouse. You can meet friends there, have business meetings, or go alone to work or read a book. Some cafés are kind of like mini-restaurants, but we just sell drinks and pastries. I work behind the counter, so I don’t make the pastries, but I… um, make the drinks. Coffee, tea, matcha lattes, that kind of stuff.”
“‘Latte’?” Haku repeated, his brows knotted together as he tried to work through all the information I had unloaded.
“Sorry,” I said, registering how foreign this must all sounds to Haku, “It means milk. We add some frothed milk to the matcha, and a bit of sugar. Some people even like it with ice.”
“Matcha with milk, and without the formalities of a ceremony?” Haku emphasized, “I'm not sure about the ice part, but I would certainly love to try a latte. I don’t know why we don’t have them here.”
“There’s a lot of cool stuff in the human world that you can’t find here,” I said, nodding.
I would love to show you, is what I didn’t have the confidence to say.
Haku shook his head in wonder, “When I still had my river, I had a vague understanding of the comings-and-goings of the human world, but now, it seems I’ve become completely out of touch. They’re underestimated here, but I was always amazed by how quickly humans progress.”
“Haku, how old are you?” I asked abruptly, my curiosity getting the better of me.
He seemed a bit surprised, but not offended, as he pondered the question, “It’s hard to say. In the spirit world, time is not really considered in the same way. I believe my river to have been around for quite some time, but it hasn’t been that long since I gained consciousness. Many deities like me don't gain consciousness or a physical form until we have been revered enough, or visited frequently by humans. I emerged in the spirit world quite recently, by our terms.”
He seemed to have been put deep in thought, like I had reminded him of something he hadn’t thought of in a while, so I waited until he was ready to share more.
“During my first few years or so of gaining a physical form, I wandered around both the spirit and human world, doing my duty by helping those in need. Small deeds, but it was as I observed how grateful these unfortunate souls would be that I realized what it meant to be powerful. I knew that I had been granted a great deal of power, but I could also feel that I wasn’t doing enough with it. I didn’t know how to. I was limited by own capabilities, and I feared that one day I would come across someone in need, and I wouldn’t be able to help them. I was too young to know yet that these limits are too part of the natural balance in the world, and that even deities cannot interfere in disrupting this balance.”
“So, I took it upon myself to start an apprenticeship. I had first made my offer to Zeniba, but at that time, she had put most magic behind her, and had no interest in taking on an apprentice. She didn’t even let me in past the gate. Yubaba, on the other hand, had a questionable character from the start, but was very powerful. Both sisters are, but in Yubaba, I could sense that even that was not enough for her. She sought more. It was inspiring, in a way, to see that even a seasoned witch like her sought to grow. I had only intended to do the apprenticeship for a few months, so I decided to overlook her shady character for a bit and learn from her what I could, before moving on to a different venture. Of course, I didn’t know yet how her contracts worked, and that with losing my name, I would be losing a core part of my identity— what had brought me to the bathhouse in the first place. By the time you freed me with my real name, over two years had passed.”
Chills ran over my spine. It was hard to hear just how many years of his life Haku had lost to Yubaba’s continuous trickery and manipulation. He had only meant to stay for a few months, but she had taken over a decade of his life. Anger seeped into me— a frustration, not for myself, but for Haku, this gentle boy who had only ever wanted to help others. All he wanted was some guidance in this lonely world where you can be born without a mother or father. How out of place he is in both this world and mine. And so she couldn’t let him go, even if that meant losing what made him him in the first place. I couldn’t fathom how Haku hadn’t taken it upon himself to exact some sort of revenge on her. How he could sit here so calmly while Boh pranced around downstairs with her like she was a harmless toy. Even I felt tempted to give her birdcage a real rattle the next time I saw her.
“Are you really okay with her just being locked in a birdcage?” I asked.
He smiled, amused by whatever irritated expression I must have had, and shrugged, “The only thing I can do after all this is prove that I’m not like her, like you said. She’s had me in her grasp long enough, I won’t waste any more of my life on thoughts of her. I refuse to sink down and give in to her darkness. I’ll look to the light, now.”
He looked to me with those enchanting eyes of his, “Anyway, to get back to your previous question, by human terms, I think I’m around… twenty-one years old.”
I let out a breath that I didn’t know I had been holding. My relief must have been visible, because Haku’s ears reddened in colour. Still, I had to know. I had been talking to Haku this whole time as if he was someone around my age. I wasn’t sure what I would have done if he had revealed that he was a century older than me, or something like that.
Learning of the conditions of Haku’s apprenticeship and his age helped me understand why most bathhouse workers didn’t seem to like Haku very much when I first visited as a child; he acted so sure of himself as the second-in-command to Yubaba, yet he was the youngest of them all. It’s not like young people are taken very seriously in the human world, either, but to spirits that most likely live for centuries, it must have been quite humbling. I never really understood until then how much potential Haku must have had for someone like Yubaba to give him so much responsibility.
No wonder she didn’t want him to quit.
That being said, in the human world, where there’s the tiresome requirements of proper qualifications, experience, and prestigious education, there likely wouldn’t be many people willing to take a gamble on someone’s potential, like Yubaba had. It was funny to imagine that while he was respected as the leader of the bathhouse here, Haku likely would have been a regular university student in the human world, attending lectures and taking exams. Maybe even working part-time somewhere, still working on building his way up. I almost couldn’t imagine it. A regular lifestyle, or even the word regular itself didn’t seem to suit Haku at all.
“You’re not that much older than me, then,” I told him, “If you were in the human world, you probably would have been a university student, like me. We might have even been classmates.”
“That would have been nice,” Haku said softly.
“It would have,” I agreed.
I let myself imagine it for a second, what our reality would have been like if we were just two humans. Me and Haku, a senior at my university. Walking past each other in the halls, maybe running into each other at a shop or café… it would be so normal but so sweet. I wondered if the thought was as appealing to him as it was to me.
“Obviously, it would be much more boring than the life you’re used to here,” I added after a beat.
The human world had the magic of technology, sure, but Haku’s world had actual magic. I couldn’t imagine him choosing a life where most people are destined to work behind a desk over this. I could barely even imagine myself anymore.
“Life can be pretty boring here, too. We’ll always find what’s different to be most alluring.”
We were both silent a moment, letting the words remain unsaid as we stared at each other. Sometimes it felt like the whole universe was speaking to me through his eyes. He stared back so deeply that I naively wondered if the universe was speaking through me, too.
“You have to go back,” Haku said, his voice nearly a whisper as he broke the silence.
“Back? Where?”
“To the human world.”
“What?” I breathed, feeling like the ground was giving out below me.
“You’re already starting to forget,” he replied delicately, “The words didn’t come easily to you when you were speaking of your world.”
“What? No,” I shook my head, “No. I’m just a bit tired. I-I’m not thinking straight right now.”
“Can you recall the faces of your parents?”
“Of c—.”
Can I? Why isn’t it coming to me right now? Why did I keep thinking of pigs? Come on, my mom and dad! I desperately reasoned with my mind, I’ve spent nearly two decades with them! I could start to see their outlines, my mom’s reddish-brown hair neatly combed behind her ears, my dad’s cropped hair and large build, but why were their faces so blurry?
I closed my eyes, avoiding Haku’s pointed gaze, and concentrated on thoughts of my parents, willing memories to come up. My senses gradually started to remind me, and I could hear my dad’s laugh, the smell of my mom’s shampoo.
“Yes, I can,” I said after a minute, their features slowly coming back to me.
I had taken a minute too long to respond; Haku didn’t seem entirely appeased.
“Only with focus. And a reminder. Eventually, even that won’t be enough.”
I put my hand to my forehead, “I don’t know why my mind keeps wandering away from them. I thought when I regained my name, I wouldn’t forget about the human world anymore. Why is this happening?”
“Because humans aren’t meant to be in the spirit world. You don’t fit in, so it’s trying to turn you into something else.”
I shivered at the thought of what “something else” might be.
“Is this because of our contract? Can’t we just terminate it?”
Haku shook his head, “It’s dangerous for a human to be in the spirit world without a contract. It gives them purpose, so they won’t completely lose themselves, and it grants them the protection of the contract bearer. But in order to belong in the spirit world, it’ll also eventually make you forget who you are. This is why I won’t break the contract until you’re ready to leave, but understand it comes with the challenge of your mind trying to rid itself of any memories from your world.”
I thought back to when I had nearly faded away upon entering the spirit world, before I had eaten anything. The spirit world had tried to mess with me from the start. What else would it do to me now that I had been here for much longer?
If Haku was right, then with every second I spent in the spirit world, my mind— and possibly my body —was in increasing danger of disappearing. Yet, the rest of the bathhouse seemed to be blissfully unaware of the risk I was taking— not even Okuri, who was presumably more well-traveled than the rest of the staff. Humans were quite rare in the spirit world, especially those who had the liberty of choosing to stay or go, so it made sense that they wouldn’t know what the risks were for continuing to stay. So, how could someone as young Haku know this? A part of me wondered if he was just trying to get rid of me, or if he had crossed paths with another human in the spirit world, before me.
“Nobody else seems to know this. How do you?” I asked, trying to hide the doubt in my voice.
“While under Yubaba’s control, I unwillingly gained some of her knowledge, unbeknownst to her,” Haku told me, visibly ruffled by the reminder.
If Yubaba knows about this, then Zeniba must, as well.
I couldn’t understand, though, why Zeniba had never brought it up with me. Zeniba had felt like the epitome of wisdom to me on both my journeys, divulging always just the right amount of information. Could she simply have been preoccupied with the situation at hand, or did she not see it as a big enough issue to bring up? After all, she couldn’t have been certain that I would immediately go back to the human world after saving Haku, could she?
Then there was the god Ryujin. There was no doubt that as an ancient god, he would know the most. But while he had certainly seemed intrigued by the thought of a human in the spirit world— who had made its way down to his palace, no less —he hadn’t given me any warnings about the dangers of staying here as a human. Had I overestimated how much a fickle god could care about a human, or was the mental state of a human all too inconsequential when you’ve lived that long?
My mind was spiralling, desperate to think of way to counter what Haku had said, and rethinking everything. I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm.
No, I said to myself, recalling Ryujin’s generosity in lending me his legendary earrings, and his trusted pet Hebi. If both Ryujin and Zeniba didn’t urge me to leave the spirit world, or even bring it up, it must be because they could sense that I’m not in danger yet. It must take time to lose yourself, I reasoned, or maybe they believed that I could resist it for long enough. If Haku has only received random fragments of Yubaba’s memories, then he might not know all the details.
Ultimately, none of this changed the fact that I would have to go back. That was an inevitable reality. Still, I wanted to focus on what I could control, and I didn’t want to be driven out with fear. It wouldn’t be fair to those that had put their trust in our friendship, either.
“I’m glad you were able to have a fun time tonight with everyone,” Haku said, his voice taking on a lighter tone, “When I heard they wanted to throw a party, I thought it would be the perfect way to send you off on your last night.”
My last night? My stomach dropped.
“Haku…,” I breathed, too shocked to hide the pain in my voice, “You want me to leave tomorrow?”
He flinched, but his voice gave no hint of hesitation, “Yes. I think it’s best you leave as soon as possible. Human memories or not, a human will never be safe in a world like this.”
I gaped at his unsmiling expression in disbelief. Any hint of humour had left his face. He was completely serious.
“You can’t make this decision for me.”
“I can’t. But I can’t willingly watch you lose yourself, either. You have people who care about you waiting for you back home. That’s why I’m strongly suggesting this to you.”
His logic made sense-- there was no use trying to argue against it. Deep inside, I could even acknowledge that this was all coming from a place of care for me. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel hurt. We had just gotten him back to normal, and his main concern was me being here, and after nine years of being apart, at that? If I left… I might not ever see him again. Even if I held onto the memory with all my might…
“I might not even remember you.”
He looked away, “Maybe that’s for the best.”
With just a few words, I could feel him drawing a line between us. Haku wanted me gone. And unlike me, he wanted it over and done with.
Back to a life without each other. With nothing but a lingering memory that my thoughts couldn’t settle on. The longing for a person that I can’t even remember.
My hurt and sadness took form in something new: anger. I struggled to swallow it down, tears of frustration burning at my eyes.
“Haku! Are you hearing yourself?”
“Perfectly,” he responded coldly.
I didn’t want to let him win so easily. I couldn’t. As much as I longed for my family and friends back home, as much as I feared my mind drifting further from them, I would be leaving behind people who cared about me here, as well. It didn’t feel right to leave so abruptly like this. But what reason could I have to stay? To extend my stay here by just another day or two? To spend more time with the people I had grown so attached to here?
Even if one of them is pushing me away…
A memory flashed into my head, something that I had been too distracted to think about until now: the letter Okuri had mentioned. A mysterious letter delivered to the bathhouse in my name. It didn’t hit me then, but I could think of a reason why I would receive a letter. The timing was just right.
“You want me to leave, but I can’t,” I told him, “Not yet.”
“Why is that?” He frowned.
“Because I have a wedding to go to.”