Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Like many fairy tales, theirs was a happily - while not ever after - for most of the after.

It's not worth taking the time to retell how Chihiro and Kohaku found each other again, and came to admit they were in love. That story isn't terribly interesting, except to note that it had been ninety percent Chihiro's hard work, nine percent Haku's, and one percent sheer dumb luck. Suffice it to say, they came to be married and living together in suburb of Tokyo, not far from the place where Haku's river had once flowed.

Chihiro had initially thought they would have the hardest time adjusting to the dragon parts. In actuality, though, the dragon parts simply meant that having a large bath in the house was a must. Other than that, as well as a few small details (and with the addition of a nice lawn with a large wooden fence, and seafood five times a week), life with a dragon husband was pretty much the same as life with any husband.

No, really, it was the human parts that troubled them most.

Haku was a young dragon, but only in comparison to other dragons. He'd been born in the Heian period, and despite the passage of time, he hadn't changed much until he'd lost his river. While Chihiro loved him just as he was, she also recognized he was experiencing the equivalent of a temporal concussion as he tried to adapt to modern life.

He probably had a sense of time flowing past him, all those years he had spent at Aburaya, but until she had pulled him into her world, he had not really dealt with it beyond wandering the empty rides of the abandoned amusement park, musing among the motionless structures. The dam had now been broken, so to speak, and now he found himself in the tide of cell phones and laptops, televisions and automobiles, and information at the speed of light.

"Humans do like such dizzying things," he said, and Chihiro thought, by the way his nostrils flared and he sniffed the air, that he may have been remembering the smell of the abandoned amusement park. "That hasn't changed."

"Yeah. There are some constants in the world," Chihiro agreed, snuggling closer to his side.

"Like the fact that a father-in-law will never believe his daughter's currently jobless husband is good enough for his precious little girl?" Haku asked, a slight smile curling his lips.

Chihiro winced, wishing she could refute the claim, but finding it impossible. Ogino Akio had decided that Haku was a layabout, and nothing would convince her father that Haku was worth anything. "A job probably would help," she told him.

"Hmmm," he said.

And what he hadn't said was this: jobs, themselves, were a rather new thing. In the past, gods - whether great or small - never had to hold jobs, not in the same way mortals did. Mortal jobs were about choosing and becoming; gods were all about just existing and being, whether it was a river, or a tree, or the sky, or a wish. There wasn't a choice. Even his stay at Aburaya was not a job as much as it was penance, something to do because he couldn't do what he had always done before.

It wasn't the same, not in the way Ogino Akio meant it.

Having a job, a human job, meant something more in this new, ever tumbling world. It meant something to little girls (and now big girls all grown) and to their parents. Mortals weren't born with just knowing what they'd be, after all. But, as he gazed in to Chihiro's eyes, he had to concede that there was something much like beauty in a human's becoming. Something precious and ineffable.

He wasn't quite sure he'd ever really understand. But honor and duty, those things a dragon did understand. And so Haku set forth to get a job.

His lack of official records would have troubled him, had he not still had connections. It wasn't surprising, in many ways, that the humans had moved from requiring proof of existence from gods and the supernatural to proof of existence from each other. It was a faithless age, where things had to be spoken and seen to be believed. Moreover, there was power in words, after all.

Since documents and contracts also gave power through their implied faith, it also wasn't surprising that there were many new deities that sprung up from this source (from the tiny wizened parchment gnomes that handled home loans to fat beaming tanuki who had taken over the liquor licenses). Many of them had been frequent customers at Aburaya, and they were more than happy to help Haku out -- for the right bit of gold. Still, he made sure that he never gave out his whole name.

Haku was now a properly documented citizen of Japan, born and raised in a small town outside Tokyo. He had excelled in primary and secondary school, earned a college degree in Japanese history, and the recipient of exactly zero outstanding parking tickets within the city limits.

Given such glowing references, how hard could it be to find something?

---

A month later, his dragonish temper was at a breaking point. He didn't really understand what the economy was, but Chihiro told him it was the reason he wasn't having much luck with his job hunt.

He also found, once he finally managed to get a job, that keeping it was another matter entirely.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have set the merchandise on fire, dear," Chihiro said, and the way her mouth twisted let Haku know that while she had meant every bit of the censure, she found it rather funny as well.

"You don't understand. That lady was so loud and demanding and demeaning and . . ." he curled his fingers as if they were claws. "Rude."

Chihiro raised an eyebrow unsympathetically. "That's the lot of being a sales rep. You just have to sooth their egos. And I know you can - you had to deal with worse at Aburaya," she said.

"Usually that wasn't directed at me," he said. "Usually they had more respect."

"Well, yes, but these people don't know you're a god," she said simply. Haku rumbled low in his throat, but she merely raised the other eyebrow. "Or that you could bite their heads off. "

"It wouldn't have mattered anyway; it's not like they were actually using anything in them," he said, and it took a full hour of Chihiro nestled quietly next to his side to make him stop rumbling.

"Well," Chihiro said, "maybe you just need to find something better than selling supposedly fireproof t-shirts. Something you really like."

What he liked. He thought of the little fishes and how the light drifted through the curtains of river weed. He thought of the pull of his currents, of how it felt to swell in a flood or shrink back in a drought.

He thought of Chihiro.

"Are you sure there aren't any openings for just swimming down a river?"

"No. Though I guess being a lifeguard an idea. But that's only seasonal. You'd have to think of something else in the meantime."

Lifeguard. He rather liked the sound of it, though he had long learned that, in the mortal world, the sound of something wasn't the exactly the same as the practice of it. But something in the meantime.

"What else do you like?" Chihiro urged.

"Knowledge," he finally said, because the word "you" seemed too obvious. "A dragon must be wise."

"We can work with that."

The next interview (his fifty-fourth, according to the scorecard Chihiro kept in the back of her day planner) was for a position at the nearest branch of the library. Chihiro's mother, tired of listening to her husband complain about his ne'er-do-well son-in-law, had pulled a couple of strings with friends of hers to set it up. Haku, by now well experienced in presenting himself for interviews, landed the thirty hour a week position with little problem. The thought of working there pleased him, since he very much enjoyed reading.

The first day of the job, however, made him reconsider. No one had told him that nowadays, reference librarians spent more time using computers than taking care of books.

Traditional nature spirits didn't do well with technology. Even in his own household and domain, it was a weekly occurrence for him to cause the dishwasher or washing machine to overflow. He'd accidentally fried two microwaves so far just by looking at them. He'd also learned not to go near his wife's cellphone, since they were expensive to replace. Chihiro suspected it might have something to do with his godhood and the fact that water and electronics never did mix, but Haku didn't care about the why. He found electronics annoying.

Books, though, books he could deal with. He had always liked words. To him, they were the most powerful of all human inventions.

He loved kanji in particular, loved how the shape of the word carried the meaning. It reminded him of how curves and bends of his riverbank defined both him and his power. It took the earth to give him shape; kanji was like that.

Chihiro, too.

So he held tight to those thoughts as he drifted aimless through the bookshelves, trying to ignore yet another query as to "why this or that site is being blocked!" or why "hey, this thing just went dead!" on various terminals around the building.

He got away with it for about a week, until his supervisor caught on. The older woman (the staff had nicknamed her the Dragon Lady, which Haku found highly amusing, but unfortunate since he couldn't remember what her real name was), cornered him amidst the 200s.

"Ogino-san," she said, and Haku had to remind himself not to look for his wife, since he had decided to take her name instead of offering his own, "I would like to discuss your current job performance. I understand you're still settling in, but that doesn't mean it exempts you from manning the desk."

Haku turned away from the cart he was using to re-shelve books. "Nakajima-san said she preferred to handle the requests, and asked that I take care of the shelving," he replied coolly.

"Yes, well, you are good at shelving," she said, for it was true. He liked putting things back into their place and bringing order to the chaos from uncaring fingers and bored students. And he was good at it. But apparently, that wasn't enough. "It isn't about what Nakajima-san wants, you know. It is about all of us doing our part. And do you know what your part in this is, Ogino-san?"

Haku had to admit, there was something draconian in the way she peered at him, brown eyes glinting. "May I remind you that we have taken you on the weight of the recommendation of certain parties with the expectation that you would understand this. So do you understand, Ogino-san?"

Haku forced himself to take a deep breath to keep from saying something he shouldn't. It rubbed against his very nature to allow a human to treat him as an inferior, but he didn't want to lose this job as well. He didn't think Akio would ever let him hear the end of it.

"I appreciate your concern," he replied, "but I do not understand why both of us shouldn't work to our strengths."

Her nostrils flared, and Haku's mind treated him to a memory of Yubaba looming over him. He forced himself to remain placid as she leaned forward threateningly. "All of our staff needs to be conversant in all aspects of library operations."

"And I am," he said. The tone was soft, but there was an undercurrent to his voice, tugging at the syllables just so. Perhaps humans didn't believe in gods anymore, but belief had nothing to do with the twist in their genes that had told them, after millions and millions of years, to be wary around things that could bite off their heads with a snap.

The Dragon Lady of the library backed off a half step, blinking in confusion as she did so. She ran a manicured hand through her perfectly coiffed hair, as if trying to rearrange something with the motion, then steeled her shoulders again. "We are an organization, Ogino-san. It isn't about strengths. It is about knowing our place. And you need to figure that out quickly or...." She left the rest unsaid.

Haku didn't like being threatened. It pricked his pride, and a part of him was tempted to let her know exactly who she was trying to command. It wasn't like he needed the money from this job, nor any of its (rather useless) benefits. He still had his ties to other deities and several owed him favors. He could easily retrieve a bit of gold he had cached and be comfortably set.

But gods and dragons are creatures of ritual. And as for knowing one's place....

The question rankled at him, and if she could have seen his whiskers, the Dragon Lady would have perhaps recognized the bristling and known what it meant. Knowing his place - that was the true problem, beyond nagging father-in-laws and the wagging of tongues (both godly and otherwise).

To find some space, in this every changing world that had taken away the very earth of his riverbank -- in this, his true foe wasn't the Dragon Lady.

"Well?" she repeated.

"I'm still getting used to the systems in this facility," he said. "I'll work harder."

He gave her a respectful nod – there was nothing that would ever force him to bow to any human except his wife – and hoped that would be the end of the matter.

She nodded, but there was no satisfaction in her eyes, which Haku found peculiar. Most people gloated a bit whenever they got their way, but this woman wasn't following true to type. "As soon as you finish with this cart, please go man the desk."

"Very well," he said, and watched her go, curiosity making him narrow his eyes. Dragons, of course, had their pride, and dragons knew rituals, and dragons, above all, had their honor.

Dragons also liked puzzles, however, and riddles. If she wasn't after making him lose his pride, nor out to belittle him for the sake of improving her position, then he could spare a little interest as to her motives. Haku ran a hand along the side of the shelving cart, the tips of his fingers swirling in patterns just so.

It was time to learn the computer system. And time to call in a few favors.

---

"So the Dragon Lady finally scorched you?" Haku's coworker, Kuwabara Kenji, asked, his eyebrow raised as Haku made his way over to the desk. The other coworker at the station, Nakajima Kimiko, was too wound up helping a beaming retiree research information on The Kama Sutra to offer any greeting.

Life at the Aburaya had taught Haku that employees liked to gossip about their overseers, and that remained true in the human world. Haku also remembered what Yubaba had done to those she caught flapping their lips and it had made him wary of indulging in such talk. While the Dragon Lady didn't have magical powers, she did have authority over him, and could make him quite miserable if she didn't outright fire him first.

That in turn would lead to Chihiro's father groaning loudly to all and sundry, yet again, what a useless sack of flesh his son-in-law was, and what was this age coming to when one's baby girl couldn't be provided for-

And Chihiro's mother would just look at him and shake her head. It would be all over her book club next week, then the ikebana circle, then finally even the postwoman would be by and clicking her tongue in a rather disapproving manner.

It was a death in inches.

So, in her own way, Yubaba was kinder. Just a simple spell, then you had more legs than you'd remember, and then - wham, bam, frying pan.

Chihiro, of course, would laugh through it all, and make him his favorite grilled eel.

Still wasn't worth it, however.

"C'mon, spill," said Kuwabara. "We've all been there. I'll even tell you how to get around her."

Then again, he hadn't had eel for awhile.

"She believes I need to spend more time on other tasks than shelving," he said simply, deciding to say only the truth, and not add any opinion. Hopefully sticking to the facts would be enough to cover him, should this indulgence get back to his boss.

Kuwabara rolled his eyes, contorting his face in a fashion that reminded Haku of a radish spirit. The overweight man had a scraggly mustache, so the comparison was rather inevitable. "Bull. Shelving in this place is a full-time job, and you're doing an excellent job. When I go to look for something lately, I actually find it where it should be!"

Haku nodded once at the compliment, since it was his due, before heading for the main computers. He would have thought this signaled the end of the conversation, but Kuwabara just followed him.

"She's always been like that, y'know. Saying that everyone have a turn at everything in the library instead of just having a system. I mean, you're great at the shelving, Nakajima is good at the check-in and out, and I figure I'm decent at the tech specs. But no, it's like she wants us all to have a taste of misery or something."

"Hmm," said Haku. He tentatively typed his password in, using his index fingers, as he tried to blank out what had happened the last time he'd dared touched the keyboard.

"I think she'd be more about efficiency, you know? Because we are understaffed, and it makes sense for everyone to play to their strengths," Kuwabara continued. "But noooo, just because she's a miserable old cat lady, we all have to be miserable... it's so not our fault she hasn't had a date in a decade."

"She has cats?" the words slipped out before Haku could stop it. There hadn't been the smell of cats on her, nor did she seemed marked by them (as all humans who were adopted by cats tended to be).

"Tch, yeah." Kuwabara continued. "She's even followed by that odd mangy one at the back lot of the library. You know? The one with only one eye... I mean, I think it's a cat -- a rather ugly one too. It must smell the crazy on her or something. Anyways, rumor has it that they're going to cut the budget even worse next year, and the way things are going, we're going to have to go back to the card catalog."

Haku might have spent time hoping those budget cuts came through, if he hadn't been distracted. Haku knew very well that there was no cats in the back lot, since the area was under the protection of an inugami and thus was off-putting to felines. So whatever it was probably wasn't of the natural world.

The computer screen in front of him flickered twice, and Haku forced himself to focus his attention back at the desktop, which was finally coming up. All of the computers in the library were old, and all of them had their little quirks, quirks which were not helped by Haku's magical aura.

Kuwabara was going off again on his favorite topic: budget cuts and the Dragon Lady and how it would mean the ruin of scientific progress as they all knew it.

"I mean, we're the last bastion of free information!" he said. "We're here to make access open to everyone, not just those who can afford a T1 connection and the latest shiny gizmo from Akihabara. But here we are, running around, doing things halfway, and pissing on efficiency. It makes us look like noobs! But does the Dragon Lady care? No, it's all about everyone has to have its place and we all are cogs in the giant gear of -- duuuude, what did you do?!"

"Ah..." Haku said softly, as the screen began to flicker and lights began to dance across its face.

"Man, what keys did you press!?"

The machine began to play Handel's 348, Suite in F Major.

"How is that even possible?! It's not hooked up with a sound card!"

"I... I don't know!" Haku blinked. Heads were popping up to look at him, and he seriously was about to yank the cord when he felt it. A small swish of air, the slight prickle of magic, and then...

The login screen finished. He was in the system.

"Whoa, that was strange." Kuwabara said. "I mean... hey! Why is my shoe kinda wet? And... does it smell like pee to you?!"

Haku could only stare at the one eye that vanished around the corner of the stack.

To be fair, Kuwabara had called the thing ugly.

---

After the library closed, Haku didn't immediately rush home, although that was what he wanted to do. Seeing Chihiro after a long day of work was always soothing, and reminded him why he suffered through the indignities of his job.

However, something was there in the stacks, he realized, something he needed to acquaint himself with. The growth of the human world had forced spirits to seek whatever places they could to exist, and Haku knew there were creatures everywhere. Whenever he ran into one, he was polite, but he had little desire to make friends with any of them. He was a dragon, after all.

But a spirit had chosen to help him out today. Haku appreciated the effort, but was also wary. Not all spirits were friendly, and Haku didn't like being in the debt of something he didn't know.

He found it curled in the corner behind a pile of periodicals, one amber eye watching him in amusement.

"Merr-row?!" it said, and it flicked its long, sinuous tail around its four stick thin legs. It had fur, which was the purest inkstone black, and a head that could have been called catlike, if it wasn't for how its eye gleamed. "Purrr?"

"Don't even try that. You are no ordinary cat," he replied, letting just the right amount of a growl to slip into his voice. The fur on the creature's nape rose slightly.

"Hmph. Is there anything such as that? Ordinary cats, I mean. Oxymoron, if you ask me," it said, with a voice like velvet gone to rust - if velvet could rust, that is - something soft, yet tarnished, at the same time. "Though I could say that you, yourself, could be seen as the epitome two definitions clashing; your own oxymoron in a human suit, yes?"

"Perhaps," said Haku, and then, because he always remembered his manners, "for the unasked for help with the computer, I could give my thanks."

"Could?"

Haku just gave the creature a long pointed look. It was dangerous, offering gratitude. The creature blinked its yellow eye.

"No, it wasn't done for your gratitude. Or to put you in my debt," it finally said. And this, more than anything, made the invisible whiskers on Haku's face rise. If not for gratitude...

And not for debt...

Nothing in the spirit world was done for no reason.

His years in Aburaya had been long. The syllables of his once lost name rattled in his head, even as he firmed his stance, mentally preparing. "Then why?

"How much will you pay to know?"

"Not more than I can afford," Haku replied.

The creature didn't look impressed. "Then I'm not going to tell you," it said, its words more hiss than purr. "But I will offer a smaller bargain, if you provide me some fresh fish tomorrow."

Haku smiled, flashing his teeth. "Is tuna to your tastes?"

"That will do," the creature replied. "And, perhaps because I feel generous after seeing the ignorant masses you have to work with -- I will also offer you the assurance that you will experience no ill from my actions today."

Tuna was easy enough to obtain. Chihiro raised an eyebrow as he packed the can into his work satchel. His very vocal disdain for canned food, especially canned seafood, had caused him to be labeled "hippy and weird" by most of her other family members.

She declined to comment, however, and instead, handed him two slices of bread. When he refused, telling her that neither bread nor crackers were required, she raised the other eyebrow.

"Make sure you bring a plate to serve the tuna on, then," she said. "It's more polite that way."

That comment had earned her his raised eyebrows, but in the end, he thought, neither of them had been truly surprised.

And he wasn't surprised when she said, "Call me if you're going to bring home... work. A girl likes to be prepared, you know." The way she had jerked her chin and firmed her stance was awfully familiar.

Chihiro, challenger of the gods.

He hadn't been planning on ever letting anything like that into his house, his domain. But the understanding was appreciated, anyway.

Chapter Text

It was back to the information desk, but thankfully it was Nakajima who was working beside him instead of Kuwabara. She handled most of the work with the computers, although he was still forced to scan books and DVDs the library's patrons handed him.

After the fifth giggling teenage girl in a row made flirtatious comments to him about how motivating they found his presence, he was tired of the whole procedure and wished he could escape back to the bookshelves. Chihiro had never been so foolish growing up, and Haku had little patience for girls who didn't respect the wedding ring he wore openly on his left hand.

Thankfully, the work was fairly brainless, which allowed him to wallow in his own thoughts. The catlike spirit had accepted his tuna with little more than a flick of its whiskers, but the mystery it represented was still preying at him. Haku didn't like having any unanswered riddles around him.

An unanswered riddle itched like algae between his scales; it would grow and if left alone, make things slippery and slick.

But cats, or spirit creatures that were too catlike for their own good, thrived on mysteries. He'd see the one eye flicking at him, every now and then, almost like a wink. And he noticed, even as he struggled and fought with the tide of technology that pulled and pushed at him, that his time with the cranky machines was getting a little easier.

Something was definitely smoothing the way.

He couldn't complain when the computers would go haywire just so when certain (rather giggly) patrons would use them, requiring the much-less-desired Kuwabara to come to the girls' aid and letting Haku stride off to help someone else.

The piles of tuna cans in the trash, though, were definitely growing.

"Why?" he finally asked, as he left a whole side of fresh salmon. Salmon, of course, had been Chihiro's idea. "If it's not about gratitude or debt."

"Mrrrr, it may not be about your gratitude or debt. But ..." the salmon vanished, and the amber eye closed into a small slit. "Dragons aren't the only ones with pride and obligations. And you're not the only god I might want to please."

With that, Haku didn't see the creature for another whole week. By that time, he managed to bring the whole system down.

Thankfully, he'd done it in a fashion that meant the Dragon Lady hadn't been able to pin it on him, although he was sure she suspected he was the hapless culprit.

Without the spirit's interference, his own issues with the system had flared up. It started small, with all the wallpaper being swapped from its bureaucracy-created library logos to ones with classical Japanese themes. Kuwabara kept changing them back, but after two days he'd declared it a waste of effort. It was obvious some kind of virus had gotten into the system, and they needed to call the tech guys.

Thank goodness for viruses, Haku thought, since it gave him a convenient excuse when his own computer began to act wonky. Luckily there was no music this time, but it was spurting out some odd information on samurai movies and turning on and off by itself. Nakajima made a couple jokes about the library being haunted, but Haku knew things were only going to get worse.

By the fifth day, tech support had arrived in the form of a young girl who looked like one of the teenagers that liked to hang around Haku. She spent most of the afternoon running virus scans, only to be thwarted by pop-up ads for the latest Miyazaki movie.

"I don't know what is happening!" she declared, throwing her hands up in the air. "I've never seen a virus able to do all of this."

The terminal in front of her made a half-hearted th-weep noise, then started belch out code written in ancient Chinese. The tech support looked like she wanted to either cry or call for an exorcist. "It's not supposed to be in kanji!" she kept saying.

Haku wasn't about to tell her that the code was not kanji at all, nor was it even a code; it was just the original tales of Sun Wukong, as written by Wu Cheng'en.

It probably wouldn't have helped, anyway, especially when, with a final odd-sounding grunt, all the systems in the library shut down simultaneously. More puzzling, anything that even had an electrical wire or electronic component suddenly refused to work, from people's cell phones to the break room's coffeemaker.

The library sounded painfully silent without the background hum of technology. They'd maintained the lighting system, but that seemed to be the only thing that used electricity that was working. Haku blinked as he looked at a dumbfounded Kuwabara, and realized he'd have to make some effort to play innocent. His coworkers had already noted his technophobia, and there was no need to feed that gossip.

"Does this kind of thing happen often?" he asked.

Kuwabara shook his head, before wandering over to try to console the now-hysterical technician who'd devolved into a sobbing mess.

It was still two hours to closing, and the staff was forced to twiddle their thumbs as they explained to distraught and angry patrons that they couldn't sign out anything without the system. Haku tried not to feel guilty as a college student had a nervous breakdown on learning that he wouldn't be able to take the three books he needed to complete his term paper (which was due the next day).

It didn't help that the student's laptop was refusing to work as well, and - instead of his term paper - it was displaying a picture of a daisy.

The Dragon Lady had finally trooped outside to find a phone and call the central office about the situation. By the time she returned, most of the patrons had left or - in the case of the college student - been gently shuffled outside.

"They're working on it," she said, her lips in a tight line. "You all might as well go home. There's nothing to be done until tomorrow."

Kuwabara and Nakajima took their leave gratefully and hastily, but Haku took a moment to pause and really look at his boss. He had expected to see her with her fists clenched or her eyes snapping. She always appeared that way, at any rate, when addressing a delinquent employee. Now that the entire building had defied her, he expected an exploding blood vessel to be imminent.

Instead, there was only the slight downward slant to her mouth. She had wrapped both of her arms around her chest in a self-comforting gesture, and if Haku could trust his ability to read humans, there was something much like sadness in the way she surveyed the now silent building, and something much like a prayer in how her head was bowed.

Even Haku had to admit that somehow, with the computer system being down, it seemed like the very heartbeat of the place had slowed and nearly stopped. When had the computers become such a natural part of a place where the past, forever captured in text, should have held sway?

It was time, Haku decided, that he upgraded to personally catching some yellowfin.

---

Chihiro laughed that evening as he explained about his trials during the day. She had a very cute laugh, and the way her eyes sparkled with amusement somewhat mitigated the wound to his pride inflicted by her amusement.

But he still winced.

She understood his reaction, like she always did, and tried to explain what she found so funny. "It's interesting to see that gods suffer at the whims of other gods," she said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin before picking up her chopsticks again.

"We're all subject to each other, depending on whose domain we're in," he replied. "I am a visitor to the library, not its ruler." He frowned down at his own rice bowl, trying not to show how unhappy he was with the situation. Since he'd lost his river, he'd not had anything to rule except for Chihiro's heart.

And that, he reminded himself, was the greatest kingdom he could wish for. Still...

"So is the cat spirit the library's ruler, then?"

"Unlikely," he replied. "It doesn't feel that way, at least." He thought of the cat spirit, in how it swirled around the shelves, mistlike, like ink dropped in water. "It's not solid enough. Library spirits are older, and less interested in technology. They're more about the preservation of the past. It's likely the cat creature is a companion to the dominant spirit -- its realm must be compatible with the library, so it can coexist together in that domain. But it's not the library itself."

"So have you ever seen the actual library spirit?" Chihiro persisted as she snagged another piece of saury.

"No," Haku said. "I just know it's not the cat spirit The god of the library, however - it's not present in the same way I am, or you are, or even most spirits claim to be. But there is an echo of something, I think."

Chihiro gives him a long look, chopsticks cradled in her one soft hand, the other cradling the bowl. "An echo, you think? But you didn't try to find out for sure." It was a statement, not a question.

"No." Haku said, and perhaps it was testament to how well Chihiro knew him that she didn't ask why not? even though she knew, more than most, that dragons did not like unsolved mysteries.

Instead, she put the chopsticks aside, then her bowl down completely as she slid around the table to come closer to him. It still surprised him, every now and then, how gracefully she could move now, for he could still remember her ungainly steps as a child. Her fingers brushed his arms, whisper soft. For a long moment, she just rested them on his shoulders, warm and weighted, and said nothing.

It was enough.

"Sometimes, we become echoes when ... I think it might have been dying," he said.

Again, probably, he didn't have to even say that much, for Chihiro's fingers were already drifting up to the bend in his neck as she rested her chin on his head - just as she had when she was but a child and he was but a dragon in dragon form, flying through the night.

And it was enough.

Dragons hated pity (and Chihiro, of course, knew that much, after all the long years). Dragons couldn't abide sympathy. Dragons had no use for kindness born out of worry, or empty syllables meant to placate.

But sometimes, dragons needed to be reminded and just as there was power in the right words, sometimes gestures held weight as well. And as they left the dinner on the table, Haku was reminded, yet again, of the greatest kingdom that he did rule. He was reminded that he did have a body (as did she), and that he wasn't an echo (though her voice did seem to ring in him, when she called his name).

But afterward, in the quiet of the night, when the dishes were done and Chihiro slept (as all mortals had to do, and many gods liked to), he thought of the way the river grass used to sway. The smell of the first grass of spring. The sharp edges of ice in winter.

What if something of him been left behind in a river that was there no longer?

He couldn't tell if that thought was comforting... or otherwise.

He'd never wanted to examine what the death of his river meant - beyond the obvious, that is. Gods were always being pushed out of their habitats by the whims of mankind and having their territories overtaken by the push of human progress. New gods were continually taking their place, or when it was in an area that no god could exist, that area remained godless, barren, and without faith.

Haku still remembered the day when his river had been lost to him. He'd been aware of the encroachment of human settlements along his shorelines, but had foolishly thought the worst he would suffer would be pollution. Pollution was a horrible thing, since it could destroy life within a river and alter the river's nature. More than one god had been driven insane when their domain had become contaminated.

It had concerned him, and he'd been thinking of ways to fight back the day it had happened. It'd been a July day, hot and sticky the way Japanese summers were, when the workmen had arrived at the source of his river and started to build the dam.

He had been the god who ruled the river, but without a river, he could not be quite the god he was before. The humans' ingenuity struck at his weakest point. He'd been powerless and the water had been taken away from him. The pain it had caused as the currents ebbed into nothing had been unbearable, like having his body slowly hacked apart, inch by inch. Then they had come with concrete, completely destroying the place he'd once commanded.

How he could have still existed (when his river - the reason why he existed - was no more) was still a question he didn't quite have the answer to, even now. Gods disappeared all the time.

A part of him suspected that he'd been driven insane from the loss, for a sane dragon wouldn't have been foolish enough to seek out Yubaba. If he had not met Chihiro, he might have destroyed himself entirely.

To this day, he could still feel the shadow of the pain whenever he thought of his former glory. A river could be destroyed, but the memory lingered. If he ever returned to where his riverbanks had once lain, he didn't know what would happen to him. If there was a shadow there, like there was in the library, he might once again go mad.

But it was possible that the library spirit wasn't entirely dead. The cat spirit still existed there, and Haku was convinced it was the library spirit's companion, and it wouldn't have remained if there was nothing to remain for.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, he felt a bit embarrassed that he hadn't had the courage to seek out the library's spirit. It was highly discourteous, and he deserved the cat spirit's ire for his rudeness. But each god deserved to be honored according to its nature. Along with the yellowfin, Haku needed to take the time to look for where the library spirit was to figure out how to pay his respects.

---

What did one bring to pay respects to a dying or dead god?

Haku suspected that this was going to be a rather challenging question.

Gods didn't exactly give each other offerings in the same ways that humans made their offerings. Tangible offerings made by mortals carried the intangible burden of hope and all offerings nearly always carried the twin chains of prayers and faith. Haku had never prayed a single day (except one) and most of his faith he reserved for himself.

Therefore, it wasn't with anything like reverence when he plopped down the yellowfin tuna behind the periodicals. The fish was newly caught; just moments ago it had been struggling in its last death throes. Just looking at it made Haku's own mouth water; he wasn't surprised, then, when he heard a loud popping noise as soon as his fingers left the fish. When the smoke cleared, a single yellow eye blinked at him lazily. One clawed paw immediately swiped away the tuna.

"Mmm, very nice," the creature immediately rumbled. Immediately, the dormant computer island behind the cat spirit blinked into life, instantly booting into the library's login screen. As the cat spirit munched on the fish, the lights flickered on, one after the other, in a ring rippling outward.

Haku had arrived early in the morning, before even the Dragon Lady had made her rounds, so at least there wasn't any need to explain to any curious coworkers why the entire system was turning on and running smoothly again.

"I think the staff here will appreciate that," he said to the cat spirit, who was licking his whiskers with a rather self-satisfied grin. "Though I feel they would appreciate it even more if they did not have to experience same sort of outage again. After all, it was not their fault nor did they give you any insult or grievance."

"And as for you?" the cat spirit blinked languidly.

"If I have offended you - or your the host of this ground - I do offer my apologies," Haku said slowly. "I did not mean to trespass without giving formal greeting."

The creature tapped its claws. "Then what did you mean?"

"I..." Haku paused for a moment. It was one thing to stand before Chihiro and confess his thoughts about his own river or how reluctant he had been to face the dying god. "Again, I meant no offense."

"That isn't an explanation," the cat spirit pointed out. "Why didn't you seek out the rightful ruler of this territory? You don't seem to be a terribly rude soul, I'll give you that much. Better than that blasted inugami in the back."

There was something much like irony, Haku thought, in the fact that a river god's mouth could go dry. But his throat did feel rough and ever so thirsty when the thought of his own river and of going insane. Of being without a place and of being in pieces. Even before the dam had been built, even before his very life had been literally cut off, he had felt it coming, trickle by inexorable trickle.

He thought of what it might have been like for this unknown god.

Did the the slow creeping of electronic media amongst the shelves feel anything like the spread of oil in his tributaries? The new hum of the equipment had replaced the whisper of turning pages -- was it like how the roar of traffic had replaced the thrumming of the crickets and cicadas?

At least he had been a river; he flowed and moved since it was his nature. But for a god whose world was bound with leather bindings and pressed together with time, change would have been...

His mouth definitely felt dry as he gave the one yellow eye a long steady look. "It does not make a difference why I did not greet the ruler of this domain back then. I will make my greetings now. If..."

If it wasn't dead already. If it hadn't gone insane. If it was indeed more than just a shadow.

"Hmm, that's the thing with you dragons, isn't it? It's either everything or nothing with you, all at once," said the cat spirit. It's tail curved over its shoulder, twitching. "But then again, I'm hardly one to talk about being everything and nothing all at once. I think both ways, you know."

With that rather cryptic statement, it turned to walk back to the shelves. "You're nearly there, but only near enough to be far away, more's the pity. Perhaps you need a lead."

Haku had become familiar with the shelves quickly after taking the position, but he felt off-balance as the cat spirit wound its way back. It didn't take a direct route, occasionally circling back upon path, but that was true to its nature. Cats were not direct creatures, delighting in obfuscation, and while Haku was convinced it was not truly a cat, it wore the guise of one. Haku reminded himself that patience was a virtue for everyone, including gods.

The cat spirit didn't choose to speak as it paused by the mystery section to wash a paw quickly before continuing on its way back into nonfiction. Haku waited, knowing that if he appeared in a rush the trip would take even longer. This type of spirit delighted in making things difficult, and Haku couldn't claim any sense of urgency since he'd neglected meeting the library spirit for more than a month.

Haku refused to let his annoyance get the better of him as they took another turn – which was a good thing, since the cat spirit vanished a second later. It only took a heartbeat for Haku to understand why; the Dragon Lady was standing there, dressed in her usual immaculate blazer and skirt.

Apparently the cat spirit hadn't forgiven him for his rudeness yet, and had chosen to take a bit of revenge against him. They were at the 395s – Haku noted with irritation. Etiquette.

"What are you doing here, Ogino-san?" she asked, her voice deceptively mellow. "Isn't it a little early for your shift?"

"I wanted to have a chance to look around a bit," Haku replied, sticking to the truth. Dragons rarely lied, but they were masters of obfuscation. "I thought that if the library systems were down, I might need to help people using more old-fashioned methods."

"Luckily for us, the systems seem to have fixed themselves," she replied. "I trust that there will not be a repeat of this incident."

"You believe I had something to do with it?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded incredulous instead of guilty. It was true that his actions might have been a precipitating factor, but he hadn't knowingly done anything to sabotage the system.

"Computers seem to have an interesting relationship with you," she replied. Her face wore a blank expression and he couldn't tell what she was thinking, which was unusual in and of itself. He was able to read most humans very well; it was just his luck that his boss would be one of the few he wasn't able to decipher easily.

"I would never do something to harm this place," he said, his tone a bit harsher than it should have been. He didn't like being accused of treachery. The Dragon Lady had no clue how close she was to upsetting a real dragon.

"Not deliberately, perhaps," she agreed, before giving him a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Despite the unfortunate events of yesterday, I will still require you to fulfill your obligations at the desk. Since you've decided to grace these hallowed halls with your presence early, perhaps you can make good use of your time by working through some of the backlogged requests."

Haku had no choice but to acquiesce to her politely-worded order. He smiled and murmured an agreement, before turning to make his way back to his desk. He had to submerge his rising irritation, reminding himself that any task worth doing took time.

It took him over an hour to enter the hand-written item requests into the system. Before they'd shut down the previous day, many patrons had scrawled down their wants onto index cards. Deciphering their handwriting was a challenge, and Haku set aside three as being entirely illegible. Handwriting, too, was something that was falling by the wayside as people adopted texting and typing.

It was sad in a way; he had been friends with many brush gods. He remembered how they had delighted in their art, and how pleasing it had been when one or two had visited him. Some kanji were so sacred that just writing it was an invocation; now text had reduced down to something that was either hastily scrawled and or something so uniform that it was void of any personality.

Realization struck, even as he typed in yet request for the library add yet another set of Bakugan to its shelves.

Etiquette, eh?

Tuna was one of the best offerings, yes, when he wanted to woo a cat.

But... if he wanted to talk to the god part...

He thought about what his own reaction might have been, if he had been asked for a favor - as a river - and been offered clods of dirt. True, he could use it as a part of his riverbanks but in the end, it was better to be offered something of his own nature.

Haku did not think of himself as being dense, but he had to admit he had wanted to indulge - just once - in the human behavior of headdesking.

The nature of a companion to a library spirit, one whose domain could coexist with the reams of text ...

First, he would need an ink well. Next, he'd need a rounded ink stone. Finally, (and as always), he'd need the right word. Words had power. Words had meaning. A god could exist in a word.

And what could be a better companion to a library god, after all, than one whose existence flowed the kanji?

But of the thousands and thousands of words, which would be the right one?

Chapter Text

As troubling as his work environment currently was, he wasn't foolish enough to let it consume his entire existence. He had worked out part of the problem, and would let it work in the back of his brain while he enjoyed the evening with his wife.

He was all-too-aware of her mortality, and knew how precious each moment they had with each other was. Haku didn't let himself dwell on that sad thought, but he was conscious that just spending time together was a pleasure. They made it a point to go out on "dates" (as Chihiro called them) at least twice a month, trying out new restaurants or attending some kind of performance. Haku liked bunraku and kabuki quite a lot, which Chihiro endured in return for evenings listening to local bands and dancing. They were very different people at heart, but it was their effort to bridge the differences between them that made their relationship work.

Today they planned to spend in the local park, enjoying hanami. Haku rose early to pack a picnic basket – including several books of poetry to share – and let Chihiro have the pleasure of sleeping in.

Theirs was never a traditional relationship to start with, and for all his love of tradition, Haku found himself enjoying the smooth corners that Chihiro brought to his otherwise straight edged world. She would cook, but so would he. She could do the laundry and the dishes, but he found himself washing just as much, if not more, of her underwear as his own.

Therefore, Chihiro wasn't surprised to find that he had made all the arrangements for the picnic, the dishes from the preparation already done in the sink, and that the only thing she had to do was don her yukata and shoes and link her slim hand through his arm.

"Where's the umbrella?" she asked absently. "The forecaster said there might be clouds this afternoon."

"It won't rain," he said, and he spoke with the same certainty as if declaring the tide would come in with the moon or that the crickets would chirp in the fall.

"But it's supposed to rain, isn't it?" she said, mouth quirking slightly. He didn't reply. She chuckled slightly. "I guess there are a few advantages to having you for a husband."

"Only a few?"

"Well," she drew the syllable loud and long, and swept a hand at the dishes drying on the rack. "Maybe a little more than a few."

He snorted. "I just hate having to clean muddy yukatas, that's all."

"Right," she said as she let him lead her out of the doorway.

They weren't the only people who had the idea, but as they made their way to the nearest park, Haku couldn't think of anything except the pleasure her company brought him. She wasn't pretty according to human standards – her face was a bit too wide and her figure was too boyish for feminine beauty (something Haku knew bothered Chihiro, although Yuuko kept assuring her daughter her stick-like figure would be a thing of the past after giving birth to their first child) – but Haku looked with the eyes of the god and saw his ideal mate. She had layers of complexity that fascinated him, and she had an inner strength that was nearly tangible.

Moreover, he was hardly one to argue about outer shapes, after all.

Sometimes, like this very moment, he thought he could be content just being beside her without doing anything. He could hear the click of her geta as they made their way down the cement sidewalk, but she was quiet as she spent the time craning her head as she looked at her surroundings.

Mischievously, he twitched his fingers, setting a nearby tree dancing and causing a light rain of sakura blossoms to come down around them. Haku smiled slightly as a couple landed in her dark hair.

With her free hand, she reached out and gently plucked petal out of her bangs. "You're cheating," she accused him.

"Cheating? By what standards?" he asked.

She pursed her lips and punched him lightly in the shoulder. As if on cue, the wind picked up and spiraled the delicate petals around them in a whirling helix. Chihiro rolled her eyes. "Like I was saying?"

"Cheating," he said, "is something done only to gain an unfair advantage towards some sort of end."

"Maybe I haven't figured out to what end," she replied, even as she reached up to brush the flowers off of his shoulders. She let her hand rest slightly on the cheek. "But you are definitely cheating."

Haku only grinned his dragon grin at her, and that earned him yet another punch to the shoulders and a trilling laugh.

"Y'know, if the library thing falls through, you could always hire yourself on as a special effects coordinator. That sakura trick would be all in the rage every time they have a live adaptation of a shoujo manga."

"The library thing isn't going to fall through," he insisted. Perhaps she caught the determination in his tone for the teasing smile faded from her lips, to be placed by something more steady and firm.

"I know that," she said. "But I'm telling you, shoujo manga may be the way to go." She laughed again, long and warm, and her weight was leaning against his side as she tilted her head all the way back to look at the sky. "Even if it is cheating and cliche, it is really beautiful."

Haku brushed his hand through her hair, scattering the translucent petals that had landed there. Her face, alight with the early afternoon sun, seemed to glow with the same opaque quality as the transient flowers. Chihiro caught his gaze, and wrapped her arm around his waist, squeezing slightly.

"And some things are worth cheating just a bit," she said. "Can you make it do that swirly thing again?"

He did.

She laughed and stepped away from him, spreading her arms wide and spinning around. She looked ageless for a moment, a young girl wrapped into the body of a grown woman who hadn't forgotten joy, and Haku felt his heart trip over itself as he fell in love with her all over again.

It took them an hour to find a decent place to set their basket down, since there were so many people in the park. Luckily – and Haku didn't have to do any magic to arrange it – an older couple was packing up their picnic and gestured for them to take the spot underneath a beautiful tree.

"We should leave this to the youngsters," the old man cackled merrily, offering a playful wink.

Haku murmured his thanks as Chihiro clapped her hands and smiled at them. Being called a youngster amused him, since by human standards, he was beyond ancient. But humans rarely bothered to look beneath the surface, and Haku wasn't going to object if it meant they could finally sit down.

They spread a light blue blanket together before Haku dug into the basket to produce their lunch. He set things out carefully as Chihiro arranged herself on the blanket. Today was for her, he laughingly explained when she offered to help, and he would be her servant. After arranging napkins and producing bottles of green tea, he sat down against the tree, before pulling her close so she was resting against his body.

The first thing he handed her was a rice ball, which she accepted happily. "You make the best rice balls in the world," she announced as she bit into it happily, finding the umeboshi center.

He could have said something corny about how they were excellent because they were made with love, but restrained himself, even though that was the truth. When he prepared food for her, he concentrated on how happy it made him to see her enjoy his efforts, and that feeling leeched into what he did. Gods influenced their surroundings without deliberate action sometimes. Simply by being, the world changed around them.

Still, if the laughter seemed a bit lighter around them and the wind more gentle, Haku couldn't tell if it was actually his influence... or hers. Maybe it was them together.

All conversation had stopped between them while Chihiro was eating (Haku had long learned that making humans talk or laugh while they were eating often ended up with rice grains being sprayed everywhere). Chihiro ate two of the rice balls, washing it down with generous gulps of green tea in between. He nibbled at his own, more to keep her company than actually eating. He didn't need to eat much, in truth, but he drew something more than sustenance in echoing Chihiro's actions.

And, bragging be damned, he did make a really good onigiri.

Above and around them, he could hear the slight tittering and sighs of the many goddesses of the cherry trees. They hadn't come out to greet Haku, but he sensed that it was out of respect for his and Chihiro's privacy. They politely refrained from dropping the petals on their food.

In the air, a wind spirit huffed and puffed. Underneath the blanket, an earth spirit hummed quietly to itself in the language of rocks and earthworms. The world still clung stubbornly to some of its old magic, so much so that even a simple walk in the park meant encountering a few thousand spirits.

He traced a finger against the dirt slightly and was rewarded with a louder refrain of the earthworm song, loud enough so that even Chihiro could catch it with her ears. Her eyes widened with delight, as he knew they would, and she swallowed the last bit of her rice ball (though a grain still lingered at the very edge of her mouth.)

"It always gets me, you know?" she said as she picked up a napkin and dabbed away the last of her meal.

"What does?" he asked, a little grumpy because he had been hoping to help her with that problem.

"The way that, you know, you just do things and the world responds to you. And... that you do it, just for me." Chihiro shrugged. She wasn't one for false modesty, not his Chihiro, so he knew she wasn't asking "why do you just do it for me?" or "what makes me so special, that you use a god's magic for mundane mortal things?"

She wasn't asking, but he answered anyway, curling around her lithely as he had once done with a much more longer form.

"You do much the same for me," he replied, speaking aloud even as he considered the situation. "I don't always understand your human world, and the machines and practices that go with it. I find it confusing at how fast things change, since the world of the gods is about permanence. But you don't think twice when I need help purchasing groceries with a debit card, or need you to show me how to work a computer, or any of the thousand little things that you think nothing of. To you, they are mundane, but to me they are not."

She snorted, running a hand over his chest. "But that's part of being married. We work to compensate for what the other may not know or cannot do. You..." she paused, tapping her fingers against the fabric of his shirt as she thought, "were a god. Don't you sometimes feel constrained by trying to live this life?"

There were many ways he could reply. He was frustrated at times, and occasionally he felt like trying to fit into the human world was like trying to squeeze into clothing a couple sizes too small, but he never regretted it.

"It's challenging, but it's not a sacrifice," he replied, stroking the bare skin of her arm. "I'm not giving anything up to be by your side, and I'm gaining so much more."

She gave him a long look, then chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "You definitely should get into the shoujo business, being so romantic like that and all."

He leaned away from her, slightly hurt. She leaned with him.

"Hey, I get it," she continued. "It's not about sacrifices, and it's not about giving things up, but it is about changing, and that's never easy. Not for us humans. Not for gods. Not for anyone. It's not just the computers or the credit cards, it's also the nosy mother-in-laws, and definitely the bossy father-in-laws, and all those mortal expectations that go beyond what you used to get in prayers. All that, and you can still find it in you to make the flower petals dance for me."

Chihiro hummed happily under her breath, in perfect counterpoint to the earth god's worm song, and the sound vibrated through her into him, rubbing against his skin like waves. "I guess... I just wanted you to know that I find that to be... all kinds of wonderful, beyond magic."

"And just who should get into shoujo manga?" he asked as she closed her eyes and slid down so her head was in his lap. One hand drifted up to tweak his nose impishly.

"It's about change," she said again, even as she snuggled against him, lips smacking sleepily. "Gaah, spring makes me all dozy," she muttered.

As her breathing deepened out, Haku reflected that yes, it was about change. It was about ends and means, and how he could cheat, as a god.

But, he thought as he carded his hand through her wispy hair and stroked her too-wide-to-be-truly-beautiful face, it was also about the one thing that made a difference.

---

The next day, he went to work feeling revitalized and centered in himself. Spending time with Chihiro had rejuvenated him, and he knew he could handle whatever was thrown at him without losing his temper.

 

He headed into the library and took his place at the desk. Today he was supposed to be shelving, which was a relief for all involved. He still didn't understand his boss' insistence on having him work at the desk, so he welcomed the chance to hide in the stacks.

 

He was pulling out books from the overnight book drop when the door opened beside him and he saw the Dragon Lady standing there. He hastily rose to his feet, not wanting to be in a subservient posture before her. "Do you need to talk to me?" he asked politely.

 

She nodded. "Nakajima-san just called in sick. You're going to have to cover for her today."

 

He looked at the books on the cart in front of him. "So I'm to shelve and help at the desk?"

 

"You're a talented man, Ogino-san. I'm sure you can handle multitasking, although I will remind you that while the books can wait, people often don't have the same amount of patience."

 

He murmured a polite acceptance before turning back to finishing collecting the books and sorting them. To his internal amusement, he found he wasn't annoyed at having his plans for a quiet day shelving derailed. Not being able to cope with change or the unexpected was how many gods had faded, and Haku was beginning to find pleasure at being able to keep pace with the human's world.

 

Kuwabara gave him a sympathetic grin as he logged into the second station of the desk. "So the Dragon Lady caught you?"

 

"She reassigned me," Haku replied precisely. "Though I think she expects me to also handle the shelving today as well."

 

"She would be able to, but that's because she lives here. You know there's a cot on the third floor where she sleeps?"

 

Haku blinked. "Isn't that illegal?"

 

Kuwabara burst into laughter which caused his body to shake. Haku watched with narrowed eyes, not liking the other man's amusement. "I'm joking, man. She does spend a lot of overtime here, though. I think she would sleep here if she could." The man leaned a little closer, eyebrows hiking up dramatically. "But even if you don't factor in the OCD about running the library, do you know what's really creepy?"

 

Haku suppressed the urge to shove his fellow librarian backward; Kuwabara was too close for his comfort. Who did this human think he was, treating Haku like a commonplace gossip monger and acting with such familiarity? But, for the sake of continued workplace harmony, he only crossed his arms instead of snapping a finger or two off.

 

Kuwabara did not take the hint. He even took another half step closer, his voice dropping into an intimate hush. "Sometimes, I catch her talking to the stacks."

 

"What?"

 

"The Dragon Lady! When she thinks she's alone, she'll start talking to the books. But the really freaky thing is that, well, you kinda get the impression that she's expecting some sort of answer," Kuwabara gave a mock shudder. "Do you know what kind of person talks to the thin air? Crazy people, that's who."

 

Haku merely stared harder at the man, hoping that Kuwabara was getting the hint that he was not going to participate in such useless theorizing. He may not like the Dragon Lady, but she was his superior, and he was loyal -- almost to a fault.

 

"I'm just saying!" Kuwabara clicked his tongue. "Stay out of her way when you see her like that, yeah?" Upon seeing Haku's unchanging expression, he sighed, rather dramatically. "Look, I'd just hate to lose you, yeah?"

 

"You mean you hate to lose the best shelver," Haku said sardonically.

 

"Well, that too!" Kuwabara said, completely unrepentant. "But seriously, you're a good guy. You care about this place, about helping the patrons, and you totally know about why we're here and what we're about."

 

"I do?" Haku blinked, arms falling from their crossed position.

 

"Yeah. You do." Kuwabara said, holding his gaze without even the slightest trace of teasing. "You get it. You care. So I would hate to lose you ... not to mention we're friends, yeah?"

 

"Huh," said Haku. He really couldn't think of anything else to say to that.

 

It had been ages since he'd had a friend, with the exception of Chihiro, but she was something more. The world of Gods was about hierarchies and alliances, and while he'd had many subordinates in the past (both from his time at the Aburaya and when he'd ruled his river), there had never been anyone who he saw as his equal.

 

Before accepting this job, he never considered the possibility of making friends with humans other than his wife. He'd taken on this role to get appease his father-in-law and to keep himself occupied, but interaction hadn't been a consideration. But after his weeks here, he was slowly becoming intrigued by the possibility.

 

Kuwabara wouldn't have been his first choice as a friend, but the man did mean well. While he was an incorrigible gossip, he also was friendly and tried to show Haku the ropes of his job. He might complain, but he didn't shirk when it came to work, and Kuwabara would often volunteer himself for less-pleasant duties like dealing with the screaming child who'd been dropped off by a lazy parent seeking to take advantage of the library's long hours.

 

Kuwabara was also truly passionate about what he termed to be the basic human right to have access to information, irregardless one's social or economic status. There was also something much like religious reverence in how he would defend the right to put almost anything on the bookshelf, no matter how many offended patrons came up demanding that it be banned.

 

And despite Kuwabara making fun of the Dragon Lady for putting in overtime, Haku had seen the man stay late to fix yet another thing that had gone awry in the library. "We're the last bastion," he was fond of saying. "We can't abandon the unwashed masses into the wilds of ignorance!"

 

The Dragon Lady might have been obsessed with keeping the library running smoothly, but Kuwabara and Nakajima had their own equally powerful drives when it came to the collection and the people within the library walls.

 

That he could respect, Haku thought. And it wouldn't hurt him to make an effort to become friends with this man, since they'd be working together for a long time. Assuming Haku managed to hang onto the job, that was.

 

Haku's monosyllabic response had managed to kill the conversation flat, so Haku had to figure out some way to get things moving again. "It's difficult relocating to a new place," he said finally.

 

"Why did you come? There's not much in this city to attract people."

 

"My wife wanted to live close enough to her parents so they could visit," Haku said.

 

Kuwabara gave a somewhat melodramatic wince. "Rough deal. What did your family say to you relocating?"

 

"I don't have any family," Haku replied, sticking to the truth. "Not close family, anyway."

 

Kuwabara clapped a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Well, it can be both a blessing and a curse," he said. "Mine can totally be a pain sometimes. Mom wanted me to be a doctor, and my dad wanted a scientist. But I know they're always there. And I do kinda like going back to the old stomping grounds during New Year's and eating my ma's datemaki. It's the one thing that doesn't change. Say... y'know, if you and I can ever swing some free time out of this place, you have to come down to see my old hometown. And you can bring your wife too. I bet she's cute."

 

"Well, yes. By some standards," Haku hazarded. Kuwabara guffawed.

 

"Look, I don't have a wife, but even I know you're not supposed to say by some standards. C'mon, you got to be more positive than that. Or ... maybe ... she's the more beautiful type?"

 

Haku gave him a uncomfortable look.

 

"Kuwabara, I really don't think this is-"

 

"C'mon, dish." Kuwabara settled backwards on his heels. "She has to be something special to have said yes to you."

 

She is something, she is everything, Haku wanted to say, but instead, what came out was, "She's Chihiro."

 

And perhaps that was enough. Because Kuwabara just grinned and clapped his shoulder in a friendly fashion again. "I can't wait to meet her then."

 

And for some reason, Haku found himself looking forward to that, too. To show Chihiro his own expanding world, different though that may be.

 

"Let's make it a day, then," Kuwabara said.

 

"I will have to ask my wife," Haku said softly, knowing that making a unilateral decision wouldn't be a good idea. "But I think we would enjoy it."

 

Kuwabara chortled. "She has you pretty whipped, doesn't she?"

 

"There's no whipping involved," Haku retorted, before letting a smile curve his lips and letting Kuwabara read into that what he wanted to.

---

Haku's hours – he was working forty a week now, instead of the thirty he had started at – were finished before the library closed. When the clock hit five, he logged off the computer and turned to leave. He needed to stop by the market to purchase dinner.

 

But then he remembered he wanted to find something to read, since Chihiro had mentioned she wanted to watch a movie he had no interest in subjecting himself to. It had taken a while before he realized that just because she wanted to do something didn't mean he had to as well. They were individuals with different interests, and didn't need to act like they were joined at the hip.

 

Despite his job, he didn't have much time to read anymore. His work kept him far too busy to indulge, and while he would make a mental note to track down something he was shelving, he rarely had the chance.

 

Now seemed to be a perfect time to find a book. It was a rainy Friday, so there weren't many patrons. Most students were waiting until closing hours on Saturday to start panicking and other, more casual patrons were probably either huddled at home or out somewhere more exciting (and thus worth braving a drenching).

 

Haku always loved rainy days, and he found that he really liked spending his rainy days in the library. With the patter of the falling drops rushing overhead and the steep sides of the stacks rising around him, it was a familiar feeling, one that set him at ease. So as he drifted amongst the stacks, he wasn't thinking about anything much in particular besides finding his book, going home with fresh fish for dinner, and being with Chihiro. His mind, his belly, and ...other parts of him ... would soon be full.

 

Satisfaction and contentment rarely came so simply, and Haku knew that he should savor the moment. Mindful of things to come, he forgot, for just a moment -- where he was and who he was.

 

Thus when he was confronted, he was caught off guard.

 

He'd drifted into the 920s, the biography section, seeking a recently released book on Douglas MacArthur. He, like many of Japan's spirits, didn't like to think about World War II, but it behooved him not to remain ignorant since the war had kicked Japan into its modern age. He spent a lot of time shelving in this area, since biographies were popular.

 

The section, located in the back corner of the nonfiction area, faced a staff-only storage closet. Nakajima had told him it was pretty much the junk room, and someday they might get around to cleaning it out. He'd never given it a second look, but for some reason the "Staff Only" sign caught his attention this afternoon.

 

Haku was deep enough into the library so that no one could immediately see him. Although he was off-shift, he was staff, so he was permitted to enter. Without grabbing the biography, he turned to the door and reached out.

 

"Are you sure you want to do that?" a voice came from behind him.

 

Haku hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. "Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

 

Although he couldn't see the cat spirit, he knew it wasn't being playful as it replied, "You may not like what you find."

 

"What will I find?"

 

"I won't tell you," the cat spirit said. "I think it differs depending on how you look."

 

Cryptic, and Haku felt his dragonish curiosity rise. "What do you see?"

 

"I'm not answering that, either."

 

Haku crossed his arms and directed his most stern look towards the creature - one that once would have scattered the serving staff of Aburaya in a flurry of obedience.

 

He should have known better than to try that with a cat, spirit or not. The beast merely waved its tail, blinking its one eye slowly.

 

"If you aren't going to answer, then why did you speak up?" Haku finally gritted out.

 

"Weeeeell ..." the cat spirit curled the word around its tongue as daintily as it had curled its tail. "How you will see what you will see... I will admit I'm curious. My kind is always so. You're also curious. But then again, I also know what curiosity does, at least to my kind. And I don't want that to lead to the same end for you, mainly because that would be an inconvenience. You have your uses."

 

Haku could feel the frustration rise within him, as implacable as a flood. The cat spirit smirked, twitching its whiskers in a taunting manner.

 

"My uses?" the words rolled within him, and without conscious thought, his fists clenched. To be used, yet again, as Yubaba had done to him, as humans had done to his river-

 

The cat spirit smiled and waited, never saying a word. Yet, there was no humor to its stance. Instead, it looked was tired. And worn.

 

It was the frayed edge to the beast's demeanor that stopped Haku from raging, stopped him from lunging at him right then and there and proving to it that he was (still) a dragon untamed. Haku closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the quiet patter of the rain drops.

 

"I should know better. You can't answer my questions," he said. "It's not in your nature."

 

As if confirming his words, the cat spirit faded, first the tail, then the legs, then its smile... leaving its single, solitary eye for the last. Haku could feel it staring at him as he pushed open the door.

 

"Sometimes the answer is the question," the words drifted to him, "and the question is the answer. For some of us, in our natures, it's both."

 

And then Haku was through the door.

 

The area was more than a closet – it was a small room that must have been created during an earlier remodeling period. The stuff nearest the door – a couple of older computers (which were so ancient that it made the ones the staff used seem state-of-the-art in comparison), a broom and a couple of dirty mugs – was in decent shape, but his eyes immediately fixated on something pushed into the farthest corner.

 

It was made of a good, solid sugi, and was nearly six feet long and at least three feet wide and more than four feet in height. It dominated the room, but it was covered by a thick layer of dust that had been smudged several times by what appeared to be paw prints. Inside, Haku knew, he would find a bunch of small index cards, each listing the existence of a book and where it was shelved. It was an old card catalog, the kind that Haku had thought he'd be using when he had applied for the position.

 

But the sense of lingering presence around it said it was more than that.

 

Haku had wondered where the dying god would be located in the library. Where better than in a card catalog, which had once served as the heart of the facility? A card catalog, made obsolete by the ceaseless advance of technology?

 

Haku found himself shaking slightly, and his gorge rose. He put his hand over his mouth, struggling to keep from vomiting. He'd known, intellectually, that the library god was fading from the world, but looking upon the remains of what had once been its physical tie to the human world was an entirely different reality.

 

He had to get out of here.

 

Haku stumbled back through the door, slamming it shut behind him as he tried to keep from hyperventilating.

 

Chihiro had once confessed to him, back when the whole them-being-together thing was new and still tentative, that the guests at Aburaya that she had found the most scary weren't, in fact, the kappas or the daikons or even the tengu or the No-face, all of whom could be of dangerous when humans encountered them, but the ones that looked almost human.

 

"You know, like the ones that'd just have one or two parts just kinda wrong, so that it wasn't really human or god or monster." She had shuddered, eyes squinching shut. "I mean, the other stuff, yes, it was weird and scary, but that was what was really frightening. Seemed more real, that way."

 

Back then, the confession had made him lean into her, taking some of her weight. Chihiro had always seemed so brave, even in the confines of Aburaya, and for her to admit a weakness like that just served to bring them closer.

 

He had been touched by the confession and in the absolute trust in how she lay against him (though he, to a certain point of view, was also a monster-in-an-almost-human form). He had been touched... but he hadn't understood. Not really.

 

Not until now.

 

Hands trembling, Haku steadied himself against the shelf. He had long wondered what it would have been like, to go back to his dead river. What it would have been like to be a dead god, to not exist anymore, to die?

 

But there, in the back of the old library storage closet, he had an almost-answer. What would it have been liked to be a dead god ... but not be able to die? What if he couldn't not exist?

 

Whatever it was, whoever it was, it wasn't dead. It wasn't alive, either. It was in a half-there state, and there was a sense of wrongness that spiraled out from it, and it came from being neither mortal nor immortal, neither god nor demon nor human nor monster.

 

And it frightened him, down to the very dragon bones he didn't currently have but which felt more real than ever.

 

"Ogino-san?"

 

Haku shut his eyes, not wanting to deal with this now, but knowing he had to. "Yes, sensei?" he replied, turning to acknowledge the Dragon Lady's intrusion into his mental breakdown. He had to draw on his experience as Yubaba's slave, remembering the lesson in keeping a cool expression no matter what he was subjected to.

 

"There's dust on your clothing," she said carefully.

 

"I was looking in the storage closet," Haku replied, still in to much shock to try to think of an excuse, and hoping she would leave well enough alone and give him a chance to escape. "I wanted to know what was in there."

 

"There's not much there, except for odds and ends," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Certainly not anything to warrant slamming the door so loudly that I could hear it in my office."

 

Strangely, as their interaction continued, he felt himself calming down. Hearing her very human voice grounded him, taking him away from the other world and other thoughts. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I thought I saw something, and it startled me," he said.

 

"Do I need to call the exterminators? The last thing I want is an infestation – that will get the board of health down here."

 

He just kept digging himself in deeper and deeper. "Nothing like that," he assured her hastily. "Just..." he shrugged halfheartedly. "I guess I've been reading too many ghost stories."

 

She tilted her head, and she gave him a quizzical look. "You don't believe those silly rumors that this place is haunted, do you, Ogino-san?"

 

Yes! was his instinctive answer to that question, although the Dragon Lady didn't mean "haunted" the way he did. Their idea of ghosts was far from the truth, but he couldn't explain that to her. In the room just beyond where they were standing, though, that was haunted in a way that only a god could understand.

 

"I believe there are spirits that surround us," he said diplomatically. "Who am I to say there is no such thing as ghosts?"

 

"That's very Shinto of you," she replied, and her shoulders seemed to relax.

 

"Perhaps," Haku said. He wanted to leave, to vacate the premises and go home to cuddle with Chihiro. Listening to the sound of her heartbeat would soothe him like nothing else. But he was a dragon, and dragons did not run, especially when they saw signs of their prey. "I noticed you have the card catalog in there."

 

"It was one of them," she said. "This library had six catalogs, due to the size of our collection. A couple of them have been sold to collectors, but I'm saving that one for the future. We might build a display about the museum's history, and it will make an interesting piece. Many of the youngsters who hang around here haven't seen a card catalog and don't know what it is."

 

Haku thought he had long grown accustomed to the bittersweet tang that came with the passing of yet another tradition. Humans just didn't live long enough, he thought. Their brief existences were all wrapped up in the present, without any true thoughts for what happened in the past.

 

The thought made the nausea increase; his hands twitched as he thought of Chihiro. Of how fragile she sometimes felt in his arms, and what would be left behind afterward And for himself, after she was gone...

 

The thing that waited in the dark of the library seemed more sinister than ever.

 

"Ogino-san?" his superior asked again. "Isn't your shift already over? Are you not feeling well?"

 

Afterward, he couldn't exactly recall what he had said to reassure her even as he stumbled for the exit. He did remember the look of concern on the Dragon Lady's face for it was quite startling how human it had made her look, when she showed she cared for something besides the library. It was the first time he thought of her as being real, in a way that Yubaba never was, instead of just being a title or a position in a hierarchy.

 

It was almost ironic, in a way, for a god to make that sort of differentiation. But Haku didn't think that far into the matter.

 

And he didn't think to stop for the fish. Or the book. Or anything beyond going home and being near Chihiro.

 

"You're holding me a bit tightly," was all she said, though, even as she warmed up the leftovers from last night. And when she later settled in his arms, he found her holding him just as tight as that first moment of free fall, back in the spirit world, when they had first discovered their true identities and names and had been trying to come to a balance with both.

Chapter Text

They went over to her parents' house the next night for dinner. It was a ritual they observed once a month, and Haku never enjoyed the experience.

 

Akio was convinced Haku was a no-good, evil man who was set upon corrupting his perfect daughter. No matter what Haku did, it would never be good enough for Akio. While Yuuko was friendlier, she had a habit of not listening to anything anyone said. Haku wished they didn't have to go, but Chihiro was loyal to her parents.

 

It was one of the sore points of their marriage, Haku knew, that they would never manage to reconcile. Chihiro loved her parents fiercely – after almost losing them at the Aburaya, it was understandable – and liked to believe that they would accept Haku in time. Haku found them boorish, the kinds of humans who destroyed the world around them without second thought. He knew that Akio would never accept him, no matter what Chihiro kept hoping.

 

They arrived a couple minutes late, which got the evening off to a rough start.

 

"So, you haven't manage to lose that job yet," was the first thing Akio said upon Haku entering the door.

 

"Now, dear, you know that isn't nice," said Yuuko as she joined them in the entrance way. "I'm sure Haku doesn't mean to lose all those jobs, right? It's not his fault he hasn't been able to hold onto anything. I'm sure he tries hard enough."

 

"Mo-ther! Fa-ther!" Chihiro chided as she took their coats to hang in the hallway closet. "Haku's actually doing very well in the library. And Mother, what have I said about talking about him as if he wasn't there?"

 

"Yes, dear, we know," said her mother, even as she floated past Haku without really giving him more than a half nod.

 

"I hardly say that a few months are consider really holding things down," Akio grunted. His little beady eyes squished tight and his mustache twitched. "Come on boy, speak up! Don't you even know how to give a polite greeting to your elders?!"

 

Haku took a deep breath then let it out again, "Good evening," was all he could manage.

 

"It would be good," said Yuuko as she settled into the living room couch. "If Haku could really settle down in a job. Then you two could plan on starting a family, you know! Have babies."

 

"BABIES!" Akio roared. "Not until he shows he's worth something!"

 

"Mother, Father..." Chihiro groaned.

 

"Now, dear, I'm sure it will be fine!" Yuuko said as she stood up and walked over to place a placating hand on her husband's arm.

 

"How will he ever support you and children, Chihiro?!" Akio rumbled.

 

From his forgotten position by the doorway, Haku could only watch soundlessly and dream of quick exits.

 

"Father, stop that!" Chihiro crossed her arms. "How many times must I say that Haku supports me just fine!"

 

"Dear, I'm sure your father will forget it all his anger as soon as he first sees the face of his grandbaby!" Chihiro's mother patted Chihiro's hand in what Haku supposed was a confident manner.

 

"No. I won't! Don't you even think about doing that to my daughter!" howled Akio as he stormed over to shake a finger in Haku's face. "I don't care what face of what grandbaby I see! Don't you even think about doing anything with my daughter."

 

Haku had a brief thought about the strength of dragon jaws against the fragility of human bones, but he immediately quelled that instinct. Quick on the heels of that thought, though, was the uneasy sensation that the conversation always brought. Yuuko never passed the chance to bring up grandbabies.

 

But now the thought of bringing a new life into the world, in the wake of that which he found in the library...

 

"That's enough, dear!" Yuuko chirped. "How about dinner?"

 

It was going to be a long night indeed.

 

They settled at the table, each claiming a side of the small square. Haku and Chihiro's house had a much more traditional decor, so he wasn't comfortable seated in the high-backed chair as he ate. It had been one of the compromises they made – Chihiro had agreed to his preferences for the living area (which included a low table for dining in proper Japanese fashion) and the futons for the bedroom, but she had insisted on a modern kitchen and bathroom.

 

Akio, unfortunately, chose to sit directly across from Haku. Haku resigned himself to an evening being glared at, although Akio would find no fault in his manners. If anything, Haku found his father-in-law unpleasantly uncouth, since he was more concerned with stuffing his face than maintaining decorum.

 

Yuuko starting to pass out plates, which the food was arranged adequately on, although not with any particular flare. Haku always found her cooking slightly off, probably because Chihiro made many of the same dishes. Yuuko's efforts were pleasing enough, but he could taste the boredom she felt while making the food, while Chihiro's dinners always tasted of the love and hard work she put into everything.

 

He didn't even want to think about what dinners made by Akio would taste like. He had enough of swallowing poisoned objects when he was in Yubaba's service. Fortunately, Akio considered cooking, much like common courtesy and decency, to be beneath him.

 

Tonight, the dinners tasted of boredom salted with the slightest hint of anxiety, which was odd. Yuuko was rarely worried about anything. However, knowing the woman as he did, Haku was sure that he and Chihiro would hear about the source of her anxiety soon enough.

 

He was right.

 

"I've been thinking," Yuuko said as she laid down a plate of cut oranges. Haku took one gratefully; at least she wasn't trying to make strawberry daifuku again. Just trying to ingest one had somehow glued his mouth shut for a frantic minute or two. "I've been talking to my Ikebana circle, and I know Haku has been settling down in his library job, but dear, I was thinking that would be a temporary thing until he could be moving onto something better."

 

"'Bout time," Akio grumbled as he eyed the oranges distastefully. "Hon, where are the shu creams?"

 

"You know what the doctor said, sweetheart," Yuuko tsked at him. "Not so many fatty foods. Anyways, we were talking, and would you know it, Haku? One of the ladies has an opening for a bank teller. Now there's a really respectable job, don't you think? Haku can work his way up, maybe even become a bank manager!"

 

"Hmph," said Akio. His mustache twitched. "Though I have to say it's better than being an namby pamby librarian. That's not a man's work!"

 

"Dad!" Chihiro frowned, crossing her arms. Haku just bit into another orange slice, letting the citric acid burn on his tongue.

 

"Well, like I said, I know you're settled in that library position, but I really think you can go farther in this," Yuuko said as she wrung her hands. "And banking is such a stable job. Great to support families on. The offer's open until the end of next week; you wouldn't ever have to step foot back into that place! Not that we were looking down on Haku, dear," she said to Chihiro as her daughter turned a narrowed eyed stare towards her, "it's just that... being a librarian... well... I didn't think it would last that long!"

 

Haku frowned. He would have been lying if he didn't admit that the thought of never having to step foot back in that place did hold some appeal. The dark closet waited, after all.

 

"It's really none of your business, mother," Chihiro said, her face a bit flushed although she managed to keep her voice from going shrill.

 

"I'm your mother, of course it's my business," Yuuko replied, scowling at her daughter. "There's not much need of librarians nowadays, not with the Internet and all. I think libraries are going to be phased out of existence, so it's better to be prepared."

 

"Right! Who reads books anymore, anyways?" Akio agreed, snatching up an orange slice as his hunger overcame his distaste.

 

Haku doubted Akio had ever read a book outside of homework while in school. And maybe not even then. "There's always going to be a place for libraries in this world, Akio-san," Haku said politely. "Our library is a multimedia center, providing access to plenty of materials that may be hard to come by." Haku forced himself to stop talking before he lapsed into one of Kuwabara's rants about the importance of access for information.

 

"You mean it's a place for lazy layabouts who are using the working people's hard earned tax dollars to fund their free internet handout," Akio grumbled. "That's what's wrong with Japan today; no one works for anything anymore."

 

Haku had to remind himself yet again why it wasn't wise to argue with Akio; it was rather like arguing with a walrus. The creature was just going to belch, scratch its belly disinterestedly, and then bulldoze the matter over with its blubber filled viewpoint anyway.

 

As if to prove his point, Akio promptly burped. "That line of work is going obsolete. You have to go where the money is, boy, and you can't get a better place for that than a bank. That's where all the money is, right?! Or are you just being disrespectful to my wife and sneering at her kind offer?" Mustache twitching, Akio crossed his arms, just waiting for Haku to make the wrong move.

 

Haku, already feeling off-balance after finding the remains of the library god the day before, felt his temper snap.

 

"Money is no concern for us, Akio-san," he said, his words hard-edged and lacking the usual softening of manners. He felt, more than saw, Chihiro stiffen as she realized Haku had been pushed too far by her father's rudeness. "I do the work because I enjoy it, not because I have to. I have enough wealth to support both myself and my wife for the rest of our lives in comfort without requiring either of us to work."

 

It was true, too. When he'd come to this world, he'd exchanged a small part of his fortune for human currency using a couple of less-than-reputable sources as fences. While his fortune was relatively small for a dragon god, even the fraction he'd brought was quite a lot in human terms.

 

And he hadn't, after all, been working for wages when he had come to Aburaya. Working for a home and for his honor was a completely different story (and one he found himself constantly repeating, no matter what world he found himself drifting in.)

 

The thought of the library slowly disappearing away like his river drying out... the thought made his mouth thin, just a bit, so his teeth were showing at the edges. He felt Chihiro's fingers steal into the crook of his elbow, but he didn't need the warning.

 

Both in Aburaya and in where he was now, Haku had learned that lesson, very bitterly. It came down to pride. And the price of being himself, under his own terms, in his own name. Haku knew he had an answer, even as he closed his own hand gently above Chihiro's.

 

His words, uncharacteristically aggressive toward Akio, had frozen both of his in-laws in their tracks. For a second, he allowed himself to feel satisfaction at the opened-mouth gaping expressions they wore (since neither of them were his favorite people), but he realized for Chihiro's sake that he would have to settle the matter in a fairer way.

 

"While I respect your concern for Chihiro's welfare, the career I choose is my choice. Someday the library may be torn down, but something will replace it. That is the way the world works; nothing is stagnant, though we may not have control over what life evolves into," he said. "The one constant will be the affection Chihiro and I share. I know neither of you likes me, but be assured that I will watch out for her, just as she does for me."

 

"And Daddy, Mom, you're forgetting one thing," Chihiro stepped forward, eyes narrowed and shoulders straight. "I chose to be with Haku. And I've had enough of you telling him what he is or should be. Haku is Haku, and that's fine with me. Stop trying to change him to be what you think is best. All it's doing is making it hard for both of us, because who he is now and who he will be in the future... well, that's who I'm always going to choose. So don't make me choose in another way as well."

 

If Haku's words had stunned them, it was really Chihiro's words that sealed the blow. For all of their rude and self serving ways, both Akio and Yuuko truly cared for their daughter. And even if they didn't remember their time as pigs, Haku suspected that both parents felt, unconsciously, that they owed something of a debt to both him and Chihiro. And perhaps it was that which made them so prickly towards him in particular.

 

Haku could understand the weight of debt. And knowing that, as well as their genuine feelings for their daughter, tempered his actions now as it always did.

 

So he smiled softly, reaching out to take another slice of orange with his fingers. "I would never ask you to choose, Chihiro," he said, hoping her parents would understand he was speaking to them as well. "I wouldn't be worthy of you if I asked you to give up people you love."

---

They arrived home later than usual from the meal, both tired from the ordeal. Akio and Yuuko had been unusually quiet throughout the rest of evening, and neither of them spoke to Haku directly. It had been a pleasant change for Haku, even though he was worried about his wife.

 

He didn't have to say "You know I meant what I said about not making you choose" because he knew that Chihiro knew him well enough that if he didn't mean it, he wouldn't have said it. He wondered if that was what love was about, these rounded layers of just knowing wrapped in familiarity.

 

Though that didn't mean that their relationship didn't have its edges. The way Chihiro had curled one arm around her middle was like a sharp corner to his side. He didn't like the pensive look on her face.

 

"That wasn't fun, was it?" she said. After the first time she had tried to apologize for her parent's behavior and Haku had only given her a long look before wrapping her firmly in a hug, she never tried again.

 

"They are still a part of you," he said (though he was wise enough to not add "that's how I know there's still wonder and magic in the world, because I have no earthly idea how else they manage to produce a being as wonderful as you.")

 

Chihiro still elbowed him gently anyway. "What they said though... and always going on about having babies..."

 

Haku tilted his head, waiting.

 

"Idon'twantonerightnow!" she blurted out in a rush, just like she would when she was a child and had too much to say and not enough breath to say it. "But..."

 

He waited.

 

"I guess we never talked about... could we even have kids? In the far future, I mean. Far! Like in galaxies far far away future... if we wanted to?"

 

"Hmmm." Haku thought of the rivers disappearing (and libraries too) and the full measure of Chihiro's question.

 

"I don't know why what mom said finally got to me now," Chihiro went on, "but it was just something in how she was so sure that we couldn't support a family unless we measured up to some standard of respectable! Ugh!"

 

He smiled and cupped her chin in his hand, tracing the familiar lines of her face with his eyes. "No couple ever knows for sure if they will be able to bring children into the world together," he said. "So I will not make you any promise I cannot keep. What I will say is that I've known other gods to have children with humans, so that it is not out of the realm of possibility. When you're ready, I'd definitely be willing to try."

 

"Oh!" she said, dropping her eyes with a trace of shyness, before offering him a smile that melted his heart. Despite her strong spirit, there was gentleness inside of Chihiro, gentleness that would translate well into motherhood. "I've never really thought about the idea of having a child, you know?"

 

Haku's hand dropped from her face, running it along the smooth plane of her stomach. "Children are a form of immortality. They spring from their parents, and continue on the path of life."

 

"That almost makes them sound like gods," Chihiro laughed.

 

Haku just shrugged. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it makes gods sound like little children... but with less of the springing from the parents and more of the being immortal thing. At least in my pantheon. I can't speak for the barbarian western ones, what with their penchant for swans and golden rain showers."

 

Chihiro chuckled at that. She intertwined her own fingers with his, and together they rocked for a little, back and forth. "A baby," she said, stretching out the words slow and soft, as if trying out them out for the first time. "Our baby. Not now, or anytime soon... but yeah. Someday."

 

As a god, Haku was used to creating things, like his riverbank, but he felt that this would be a whole new sort of creating. He though back to the idea of magic and wonder, then nodded. "Yeah. Someday."

Chapter Text

Haku had never understood the human aversion to Mondays – until this one.

 

Sunday had passed in a pleasant haze, since neither he nor Chihiro had wanted to get out of bed. It reminded him of their honeymoon, when they'd been so in awe at being together that they hadn't wanted to do anything except be close to the other. Sex was part of it, but it was more than that.

 

Discussing children – the idea that she wanted his children so badly, had triggered another one of those tripping heart moments. He wasn't sure how she did it, but Chihiro was always finding ways to make him love her even more. It was lucky he was a god; he doubted a normal man could have survived the intensity of these feelings.

 

Monday brought with it a cloudy sky and a wind that was colder than the normal warm winds of spring. Haku tugged his jacket up higher even as he paused at the employee's entrance.

 

It looked about the same as usual. He could already see the Dragon Lady's car parked in its spot and it seemed that Kuwabara was in as well. There was no sign of his other coworker Nakajima; perhaps she was still sick.

 

He was feeling an abnormal amount of trepidation though, curling under his skin and in his belly. He didn't like that feeling. Dragons weren't made to know fear.

 

Still, the weekend with Chihiro - even in the aftermath of her parents - had calmed him down considerably. Even that small irrational (and wholly undragonlike) part of him that quailed at the idea of the thing in the darkness could not shake the new footing that Chihiro had given him. Again.

 

And it wasn't as if he didn't have a plan. In a carefully selected messenger bag waited an ink stone, a brush, and the perfect shade of black ink.

 

It was time to literally let the cat out of the bag... or perhaps stuff it into a corner.

 

But the spirit, true to its catlike appearance, wasn't where it'd met him in the past. Just like a cat, it was always underfoot, but never around when you wanted to see it.

 

It could keep, he supposed, and chose to be relieved when Nakajima called in again, forcing Haku to work the desk. He wasn't ready to work in the stacks quite yet, but now that he was aware of the library god's location, he couldn't be anywhere else.

 

He didn't think much as he worked with the system. It wasn't until his lunch break that he realized his computer hadn't acted up on him as he locked the station.

 

Usually he chose to eat outside, but the gray skies had given way to rain, and while that didn't bother him, he didn't want to deal with the questions he'd face. Remembering to act human sometimes forced sacrifices, like going to the employee break room instead of waiting in the elements.

 

As he shut the door behind him – he'd pulled the last lunch break of the day, like usual and was on his own – the feeling of presence joined him. Haku sat down and opened his bento before making a gesture to the creature behind him. "Did you want to join me?"

 

"Depends on how you want me to join you. And whether there is tuna," the voice said.

 

"None today."

 

"Mmrrrr. Too bad. I liked the last one you caught, so tasty," the voice grumbled. "But that bag of yours, there's something better than tuna in there, isn't that right?"

 

"Perhaps."

 

"And do I smell...? Ah. Horsehair and wood. That unmistakable tang of a ink stick... oh! It is the good stuff and not that horrendous bottled kind they use nowadays. And yes, a stone, a rounded one," the voice grew almost dreamy in tone, and Haku knew if he turned he would see, perhaps, some triangular ears perked forward, the quivering of whiskers, and the slow wink of one eye being closed in ecstasy. Sometimes, he too, got like that, when he heard water running over stones or earth, just so.

 

So he did not turn around.

 

"I suppose that, since you want me around in that way... well... do it," the voice laughed. "And don't forget to do it properly, little lizard."

 

"Dragon. Don't you forget that, either."

 

But all that greeted him was a puff of air and the feeling of something not being there anymore.

 

It felt strange to know that he was on the right track. He'd suspected, but the creature's reaction had confirmed it. A brush spirit, tied to existence by kanji. Something in his stomach tightened, and it took him several moments to realize it was excitement.

 

Haku forced himself to eat a bit of his bento, to stave off questions from his wife. She'd packed it that morning, and he could taste both her affection and concern. If he was able to speak to the cat spirit tonight, perhaps he would be able to allay them.

 

Or she would serve as a reliable sounding board as he tried to sort through whatever mess invoking the spirit resulted in.

 

He'd never been a fan of clock watching (as Kuwabara was prone to do on Fridays), but he found himself checking it numerous times. The clock hands seemed determined to annoy him, since they were moving far more slowly than they should have. Haku knew time wasn't as set as humans liked to pretend, but it was rare for him to become impatient with it.

 

He left when his shift was over, of course, but he merely waited around the corner. He admitted that he cheated a little to remain hidden from human eyes, but it was raining and he loved the feel of rain against his skin.

 

The Dragon Lady was the last to go, and she stood for a long moment, despite downpour, looking at the building. There was something in her face that made Haku feel... not pity... but something sad, nonetheless.

 

Then he went back into the building. He didn't even have to disarm the system.

 

In the middle of the checkout desk, a long piece of rice paper fluttered.

 

He hadn't brought the paper because he had wanted to use something in the library; that was essential to any ceremony to any god. One had to use something from their natures, something from their environment, and the will of one's own soul to bind it together. The brush was its nature. The paper... well, he had an idea of how it got there. Somewhere, in the dusty reaches of the place, something was missing a sheet.

 

And as for will, there was none as strong as a dragon's.

 

He carefully smoothed the paper out, then took out the ink stick and stone. Reaching far into the messenger sack, he also brought out a bottle of water. Chihiro had looked at him strangely when he had asked her fill it (instead of doing it himself) but she hadn't asked any questions.

 

Water from her hands - he couldn't think of anything more pure.

 

The mixing of the ink was an art in itself. Too much, and the ink would be runny and thin and the strokes would lose their strength. Too little and the ink would be too thick and the words would lose their shape.

 

So he was very, very careful, controlling the water the way only one who knew the worth in each drop could. Then came the careful grinding of the ink stick in the stone until it was just right.

 

It was time for the brush.

 

Haku took a deep breath, then let it out smoothly. The art of calligraphy meant the art of breathing as well, of letting it flow through you, from you, onto the page.

 

Then, and only then, could the strength in the strokes reflect the strength in the body; the meaning of the word reflected the meaning in the soul. Both had to be in balance for the final product to be called true calligraphy.

 

And only a true calligrapher could call a brush god.

 

And when the breath was right within him, Haku started on the one word that would reflect the nature of that which he sought, the answer to the question - or the question to the answer - that he had asked, and the nature of all things cat (and otherwise).

 

A stroke down, a stroke curving around, the back again for the four drops like rain, then across, then four more. He breathed between each swerve of the brush and thought of rivers, and how they could curve smooth, and how they could bend sharp, and how they flowed.

 

The nature of the word and the meaning behind the word, and his nature combined... all in one. That was a true invocation.

 

And when he was done, the cat god was there, truly there, as it had never been before. And he saw it with a god's eyes.

 

And he smiled.

 

"My greetings," he said, inclining his head respectfully. "I thought it was time we met properly, Mu."

 

The brush spirit smiled in return, its tail curling in elaborate designs that resembled the carefully placed strokes of a master calligrapher. Its seemingly boneless contortions were somehow soothing, and Haku appreciated the reflection of the spirit's inner nature. "Past time, even," the spirit said agreeably. "I'm curious on how you stumbled upon my name."

 

Haku's eyes narrowed as he allowed himself to drift into memory. "You said it yourself; you can think both ways. Everything and nothing, both at the same time. Questions and answers, both are the same to your nature. And knowing that, and knowing that somehow, you're still able to exist in this domain, even give how this library's become - only one being could do it. The perfect emptiness. Mu."

 

"Meeeeeew," the cat spirit daintily agreed as it settled itself. Its fur was no longer pure obsidian; there were other subtler shades woven in, from darkest black to pale gray, which stood out like the pale fibers of paper wisping through the lighter strokes of a brush.

 

"It also helps that I knew your mother, Kabegami," Haku admitted. "And most of what she named her children."

 

It was good to be a god with connections, after all.

 

"I've always liked my name," Mu grinned, whiskers flicking, "though I hardly have to tell you about the worth of names, do I? So you know mother? The walker of walls... mmmmrrr, I can't imagine she had any use for bathhouses."

 

"It wasn't from then," Haku said carefully.

 

"Oh. The even older days, then." Mu passed a paw across its face. "Mother's always nostalgic for them. And I wager she passed it on to all of us. We like our historic places, and walls, and places where things meet. But that's not why you summoned me, is it?"

 

Haku didn't reply, but he held the god's gaze, eyes to eye.

 

"Mmmmrrrrrr," the brush god purred. "In the nature of the word you summoned me, you already know half the answer. Is it the other half you seek?"

 

"I know better than to expect answers," Haku replied. He stretched slowly, feeling his human-shaped body flicker around him. This conversation between gods was taking place in a place between worlds, where the divine and ordinary touched but did not meld. For a second, he was tempted to transform into his dragon-shape, but reminded himself that he couldn't take comfort in his previous existence.

 

"Not from a cat spirit like me, you mean?" Mu chuckled, a raspy sound that reminded Haku of crumpling rice paper.

 

"Not from any spirit at all," Haku amended. Gods didn't pray to each other for truths; they were the truth, in their own selves, in their own ways. "Instead, let me tell you some answers and you can tell me the questions I've asked. Cats and brush gods are good at questions -- and that should suit your nature."

 

"Hmmmrrrrrrrr. I have to admit, that is a new approach." Mu's ears were pointed forward now. "Very well."

 

"You are doing better than most brush gods I've seen," Haku said as he paced in a quiet circle. In the space between them, the rice paper rustled ever so slightly. "Especially nowadays, with the ink and brush being laid aside for things such as the keyboards and a new kind of mouse."

 

"I like both kinds," Mu chuckled again. "Tasty, and boy do the humans screech when their little arrows don't move any more! So your question is... why? Why did I change?"

 

"And the answer to that is that you've changed because it's in the nature of words themselves to change. Humans tend to think that of all things, words stay the same. They record down history, fix it into books, that can be stored in buildings, immutable. But they forget that meanings can change with time. Symbols lose their meaning. You've lost some parts as well."

 

The cat spirit blinked its one eye slowly. "Then now your question is... how? How have I changed?"

 

Haku inclined his head. "That's simpler still. Kanji becomes more and more simplified as time goes on. But you chose your word wisely. The meaning of yours is to be the very shift between both nothingness and everything, wrong and right. That's how you've survived, even in this age. Your name hasn't lost its meaning, yet."

 

"Mmmmrrrrrr, you're halfway there on that one. And I know your final question, now. About this library. About that spirit. And about your own self, and what your name means without a river," Mu mused. "And how you might be in a halfway state as well. Then all that remains is... do I dare ask it?"

 

"And do I dare answer." Haku completed.

 

"You know the answer to that as well, white dragon," the spirit said. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't."

 

In this place, on the verge of the truth that terrified him, Haku could feel the weight of the air around them. He could back away, but Mu was correct in its assessment. Haku would not be able to forgive himself if he turned aside now, not when he was so close to discovering what had become of the library god...

 

And what might become of him.

 

Haku had known, ever since he'd began to court Chihiro, that he was changing. He had realized that if he was granted the gift of her heart, he would be changed. Falling in love changed the fabric of his being, and there could be no return to what he'd been.

 

As much as he longed for his familiar riverbanks, he would not return to them even if they were somehow recreated. He would always grieve for what had been lost, but somehow he'd moved beyond his past.

 

But what became of a dragon who no longer desired his river?

 

"The god is not dead," Haku said slowly, "but neither is he alive. There is a place between them, a sort of limbo where he merely exists."

 

"Much like this place between worlds, where we are both cat and human, brush spirit and dragon," Mu agreed. "Your question, then, is how can it exist yet...not? How can you exist amongst this human humdrum, with its jobs, and its taxes, and its annoying in-laws, and even the act of breathing in and out with the ticking of a clock, to the idea of a clock itself... how can this be? That is your question... how can you be all of that and not be a river, though a river god you be? How can you both exist and not exist. The damming of your river must felt like the damning of this library as each computer comes in and the walls seem obsolete."

 

Haku did not say anything. He did not have to.

 

"I'm not giving you an answer," Mu said finally. "I'm... just telling you something. Like cats do in the middle of the night, nyah nyah nyah, right in your ear, just for the hell of it."

 

"Yes," Haku said, carefully. "You're not telling me any answers."

 

"It hurt. The changing. The simplification... it's like losing a sense with each brushstroke. There is an art in calligraphy, in the smooth flow, and in its form. Did you know, for all of their mundanity, not one human ever writes a word - any word - in the same way? Even when it's not in calligraphy, the act of writing is like declaring the shape of your soul and its meaning as you choose the words. And when they choose to bring it up to an art form... mrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," Mu purred long and painfully, and it sounded like the brittle crumbling of age old paper, before it continued to speak.

 

"Ahhh, now that is an invocation. But now - as you have said - with the keyboards and the mice that do not squeak, all humans are the same in how their words appear. Many of my brethren have disappeared because of that, unable to adjust. But do you know? Though it all shifts, though the meaning shifts... there's still meaning, in the end.

 

"How about you, dragon? Is it your name that gives you meaning? Or is your meaning reflected in your name? But... you don't go by the same name as you once did before, do you? Not in this place."

 

Mu suddenly blinked. "Well, cats don't give answers," he said. "But some other beings do. And that's the reason for their existence."

 

It paused, shifting its tail around it like a flag, and Haku realized Mu was writing out the simplified kanji for his name. "Hmm, what did they use a card catalog for anyway, back when they had one?"

 

Haku opened his mouth to provide the answer, but caught his tongue before he could speak. This was a question he hadn't phrased to himself, and providing the answer would require thought. The simple answer was that the catalog had formed the library's brain, organizing its contents for those who needed them.

 

But the simple answer was not best here.

 

Mu could not give Haku the answers, but it was offering a greater gift: the right question.

 

"When I have come to the answer, perhaps you would like to discuss it with me over dinner," Haku said instead. He'd made an effort at building relationships with humans, but it had been a long time since he'd met a god he'd care to befriend. "I'm sure my wife would like to meet you."

 

Mu let out a surprised, albeit pleased, purr. "Tuna again?" it asked hopefully.

 

"I'm sure that can be arranged, although my wife may insist on something a bit more formal."

 

Mu stood, before dropping its head in regal acknowledgment. "It would be my honor. I'd like to meet the woman who can tame a dragon," it replied, before turning on its paws and vanishing into the stacks... toward the biography section.

Chapter Text

When Haku arrived on Tuesday, his head was full of pursuing the mystery of the library god. Talking to Mu had shaken him from his terror of what might have been. Now he was determined to find the answers, because a dragon always pursued the truth. If it was a slow day – and Tuesdays tended to be – he might have time to do some research or even visit the card catalog again.

 

Sadly, it wasn't meant to be.

 

The first sign of trouble was Kuwabara working at one of the public computer stations even before the library opened. It was his job to turn them all on in the morning, and every now and then one of them would be buggy. Even with Mu's unseen help, the machines were prone to acting up.

 

Today, the brush god was either not around or the latest wave of technology had defeated even it. Kuwabara was actually stomping a foot against the floor (being a good tech, he'd never actually hit the equipment... though he had once admitted to Haku that he had fantasies sometimes about a chainsaw and Microsoft Vista).

 

"If I ever catch whatever hacker came up with this one, I'm going to tear off his balls and stuff them through his nostrils until he's coughing out pubic hair!" Kuwabara swore.

 

"Ah. Is that so," Haku backed away slightly. Kuwabara's insistence on no man-on-machine violence did not extend to man-on-fellow-man violence, apparently. "What seems to be the problem?"

 

"Nothing is coming up, no matter what I try! We can't access the main database, Internet's down, as well as the main checkout. I can't even get into the DOS screen. I'm betting some punk ass teen got through the firewalls, took down the antivirus and the hacked the server but..." Kuwabara ran a hand through his hair, which was looking increasingly disheveled.

 

"But what?" Haku prompted.

 

"It doesn't feel like a computer virus. Or like we've been hacked." Kuwabara blew a breath through his bangs. "Usually there's some trace, or some sort of electronic signature. I can't explain it. But I've been doing this for a decade now, and this isn't like anything I've seen before. We're complete down. Everything. And it feels internal, but not like the same way that 'stupid punk ass fooling with the computers' sort of internal.

 

"Look, you want to know the really weird thing? I even brought in my laptop and I haven't hooked it up to anything in our system. I tried to see if I could get on our site and yes, it's down, and there's not even a 404. But the weird thing is the parts I saved of the website on my laptop here, that's gone, too. Like the library... doesn't exist anymore."

 

"What?!"

 

"I know. That's like ghost in the machine sort of weird. But I'm sure no little pissant hacked into my laptop and just erased all my library backup files, so... it's just weird, y'know?!" Kuwabara buried his head in his hands. "Dragon Lady is screaming at the central branch now, but they're acting as if they've never heard of this place. I just don't get it!"

 

Haku worried his lip with his teeth, not liking the sound of this. The computer system had always been finicky, but the fact that the library itself was being disconnected from the world spoke of something far more sinister.

 

And Haku suspected his conversation with Mu had something to do with it. He didn't think he'd done anything to offend the brush spirit, having ended their conversation with an invitation into his home. Mu was a tricky type, but it wasn't malicious, not the way some of the more mercurial gods could be and it wouldn't bring down the library.

 

"So tech support isn't going to swing into the rescue?" he asked finally, deciding that offering Kuwabara a conversation would be better than watching the man meltdown on his own.

 

"I'm better than the so-called tech support. Remember the girlie who ended up in tears the last time?"

 

Haku did, but he didn't blame her for being upset. When a spirit was angry, there was little a human could do to combat it directly. A spirit had to be appeased and asked for forgiveness, which tech support personnel wouldn't even consider.

 

Kuwabara, he thought as the man restarted the computer again, was going about things the wrong way. Haku ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips as he came to a conclusion.

 

"Let me try," he said.

 

Kuwabara looked up from the computer screen – which was frozen at the Microsoft logo – with a dumbstruck expression on his face. "Look, Ogino-san, I appreciate your trying to help, but it might be better if you collected the books from the drop while I try to... do something..."

 

For a second, Haku thought of arguing, but decided not to waste time. The library was due to open in less than ten minutes, and there was more than one computer available.

 

For so long, Haku had resented having to use the computers in the library, but Mu had pointed out that in essence, the library remained. It might not be concentrated around the books that Haku loved, but it was still a repository of knowledge.

 

Wasn't that what Kuwabara ranted about, about how the library existed as a bastion of free thought and information exchange?

 

And that, Haku could respect. Dragons desired knowledge, and he would not turn away from it, no matter the vessel that carried it. That, too, was an answer to a question he hadn't given to Mu.

 

Change, he thought. Change or disappear.

 

He felt different as he started his usual computer, a sense of determination residing deep inside of him. Before, he'd always seen these machines as annoyances, but now it was something more. In it flowed the lifeblood of a society built upon information exchange. It was a gateway, a link from place to place, person to person.

 

Rivers had been like that, too, in bygone times.

 

Even as the screen froze at the opening graphic, Haku began to type, his fingers flying across the keyboard with ease. Before, he'd always stubbornly picked out the keys in a hunt-and-peck fashion, but now was not the time for resistance. A god knew what he wanted to, and right now Haku was determined to restore the library's computer system.

 

He didn't need to watch as the monitor went into DOS. He didn't have to think as he began to reprogram the database, feeling, rather than thinking about, what keys to press.

 

The information was flowing, and he realized that the problem wasn't in what had been damaged, but what was missing. It wasn't that viruses had been wiped; it was that the spirit making the workings possible was no longer present.

 

Gods were in everything, including new things. Old gods may pass from existence, but new gods arose where they were needed. Whatever had been keeping the library's system together wasn't there anymore.

 

Mu had helped him in the past, but it wasn't a brush spirit's place to control this kind of information. Perhaps that was why the system tended towards having bugs; Mu could make it work, since gods could turn their hands to many things, but it couldn't make it work well, not the way a god whose existence was devoted to the task could.

 

Gods prayed to no one but themselves. Haku would find his own solution.

 

He could feel his power running along his hands as he forced the machine to respond, leaving behind a tingle not unlike the sensation of a limb falling asleep. He knew the information he sought was out there.

 

Shutting his eyes, he let himself feel the machine for the first time. Without knowing exactly what he was doing, he found himself on the verge of something new, a sense of growing and expansion as he hit "enter" for the final time.

 

One by one, the computers around the library turned on, the screens flickering to life. Haku breathed deeply as he opened his browser to display the library's homepage, once again advertising the services they provided.

 

He felt strange, almost buoyant, like he had those nights when he'd slept in his river. Once, he had thought that it was his nature -- water -- that had encouraged electronic things to fail around him. But how could he have forgotten? Water could carry electricity and conduct it along. Once he stopped fighting it, of course. He wanted to laugh as he stared at the screen, but didn't have a chance to think on what he'd just accomplished.

 

"What the hell did you do, man?" Kuwabara asked, coming over to stand beside Haku.

 

"I just showed the computers who their master was," Haku replied.

 

"Whatever you did - dude, I grant you the title supreme techno wizard first class. I'll even give you the honorary nerd key - but shit! The website is still down, and..." Kuwabara nudged Haku aside as he typed frantically. "Damnit, we're not connected to the main database. We're up and running, but there's no way we can check out anything today. But thanks, man. I'll work on it. You go help Nakajima get the doors ready for the patrons. I'm sure she'll need it."

 

For a moment, Haku had the strangest urge to just... zap... him. He hadn't wanted to part with the computer. A strange feeling was coursing through him, and he felt the need to stretch his legs out, throw his head back, and roar to declare his territory.

 

He didn't, of course. For all his shortcomings, Kuwabara was a coworker.

 

And a friend.

 

Haku nodded shortly to him and turned away.

 

In the corner of his eye, Haku could see Dragon Lady poke her head out of her office. One hand still clutched the phone where she had obviously been talking with the central office. She placed a hand over the speaker, and stared out at them. "What did you do?!" she mouthed.

 

Haku left Kuwabara to his fiddling and walked over. "The computer systems are now up," he said. He hoped he sounded normal. There was an itching sensation just underneath his skin, and he felt as if he was twitching in his veins.

 

Apparently, if he was behaving abnormally, the Dragon Lady was too distracted by her call to note. "They still don't recognize us in the main system," she hissed as she put one ear back on the receiver. "They put me on hold! Anyways, go shelve or something. At least get the physical part of library back in order," she mumbled as glared at the phone.

 

Haku blinked as she turned abruptly, barking sharply into the phone "Of course this isn't a joke! This library has existed for more than eighty years! What do you mean ...?! No, go look again!"

 

The library systems were up, but the main problem was yet to be solved. Instead of heading for the checkout desk, though, he drifted back towards the very far terminals, the ones out of the line of sight of Kuwabara and the others.

 

The main energy was surging again through this place. Haku could feel it now, feel it coursing through him and his blood like the currents of his old stream. But it wasn't finding its way to the sea.

 

Rivers that did not make it to the sea were not rivers at all. As soon as he placed his fingers on the keyboard, the information thrummed at him, like waters being backed up.

 

Water always found a way through.

 

Information was like that, too. The library's homepage was like a stream cut off, bottled and dying. And he had more than enough experience dealing with those.

 

Water was drawn together; it was its nature. Eventually, rivers all found their way to the sea and from there to the ocean. For the information age, the great ocean was the internet. And in the net, there were places where people congregated, just like there were popular ports upon a river. Arrive at those ports, and the journey was clearer.

 

Haku hadn't realized he'd learned so much about the net. He started by forcing energy through to one of the main gateways: Google. Most people chose to engage a search engine to access information, and he would do the same. If Google could be made to remember the library's website, then the rest of the internet would follow.

 

It was strange, using his power to reach through the computers and into the realm of cyberspace. It reminded him of how he'd once commanded his river, allowing himself to feel the sensation of something outside his own body and make it his own.

 

He wove himself around the blocked center that was the library's existence. A library was a center of all information; if all information ceased, it would cease to be. The deity who had held this space for so long had known that, but the world had been changing too fast for it to keep up, and now it could not hold its form nor perform its duty. And when a god lost its place, the place itself sometimes lost its form.

 

Still, Haku had no urge to take over the duty of an archival spirit. Archives were sedentary; he was free and flowing. What he would do, as all rivers had down, was make the connection so that information could come back in again, be stored, and flow back out.

 

As he gathered himself, he had to rethink his previous assumption. The strange thing about the internet was it wasn't an ocean; it was a million streams following forward and backwards, and around and around, never in one central place. But there were parts where information was gathered, places where the streams flowed into one.

 

Haku pulled the library's essence towards a main flow, and set it free to gather information again.

 

It took a bit more effort than he thought to get the servers to recognize his computer, his library, his domain, but after a couple of tense moments – nearly an eternity for a god – the distant server responded and let him return his library to the internet.

 

He sat back, breathing as heavily as he might have after keeping his riverbank from overflowing during monsoon season. He leaned over, shutting his eyes and feeling the sense of presence that he'd been lacking ever since he'd lost his river.

 

It wasn't the same. He couldn't feel the distant flow of water or the creatures living within his stream. He didn't have the sense of the plants growing from his largess, or the sound of humans praying to him by name.

 

But he was more than he'd been minutes before, more than he'd been when he had awakened this morning. Like a key fitting into a lock, something clicked within him, and he suddenly understood the nature of the Internet, the ebb and flow of information tides, and a sense of constant shifting as people connected and disconnected, adding and deleting to the web.

 

Leaning forward, he rested his head in his hands and struggled to keep from weeping.

 

"That was nicely done," a voice said from near his feet.

 

He didn't have to look to know he'd find the one eye blinking up at him. It wasn't the same as his river, wasn't as rich and full of life and complex as it once was.

 

It was a simplification.

 

And he wondered what he had lost. He looked down at the one yellow eye, and nodded.

 

"It is done, nicely or not."

 

And it was an existence. A meaning. And with that, he was truly a god again, though not the same as he had been.

 

Mu just purred once, rubbing its length against Haku's leg. "There's just one more thing, isn't there, young dragon? So what is it?"

 

Haku turned to look at the closed door to the Dragon Lady's office. "I know the answer to that one, too."

 

It took a moment for him to pull himself away from the computer. He still wasn't sure exactly what he had done, what he had become, and he wanted to explore this new river he was making his own. He wanted to dive and dive until he couldn't breathe anymore, until he was immersed in this new world. The silly trivialities of his human life didn't matter in the scheme of things, not when...

 

And he stopped himself there, reminding himself of Chihiro. He could not stand beside her as a god; he needed to be a man, for her. And the thought of her love was enough for him to take the first step toward the director's office.

 

He didn't bother to bid Mu farewell; it wasn't necessary. He'd forgotten how much he'd been diminished upon losing his river. Perhaps it was a form of self-defense. But now that he had a domain, an existence to call his own, he was more aware of his surroundings. It was like he was expanding, and could hardly be contained in this frail human body.

 

Chihiro, he whispered, reminding himself to stay grounded.

 

The power of naming things, of having a name for things, was not something to be underestimated, and in the world of the library, he shared her name, or at least a part of it. He felt his skin settle; the itching subsided, and the ground stopped wanting to flow away underneath his feet. He could stand straight, once again, on two legs.

 

Haku reached the office door just as the Dragon Lady was coming out. For a moment, she paused, eyes widening.

 

"Ogino... san?" she asked, and there was something much like wonder on her face, or perhaps it was the aftermath of momentary reverence. One hand drifted up to rub fitfully at her right eye. "Oh. Uh."

 

He hadn't considered what effect his ascendancy would have had on the humans around him. He chose not to look however; he was not out to find followers. Taking a deep breath, he reached down into himself, slowly tamping down on the power until it was a tight, pressurized sphere of brightness deep within him.

 

The Dragon Lady swallowed, then shook her head. The dazed look cleared from her eyes. "Ogino-san," she said firmly, then paused. "Did you do something to your hair?"

 

Haku habitually wore his hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, one which trailed down his back. It was another thing Akio chose to complain about, but Haku wouldn't have felt like himself if he'd shorn his hair. There was no mirror in the office, so he couldn't catch a glimpse of his reflection to check, but he shifted his head slightly to feel the weight of his hair. It seemed to be in the same place.

 

"New shampoo," he said only after a moment's pause. "I ran out so I borrowed my wife's."

 

She blinked slowly, tilting her head. "I see."

 

"I just wanted to tell you we were back online, and the system is working," he said.

 

"It is? Good," she said, snapping right back to business. "And whatever idiot running the main branch has finally connected the pieces together; apparently we do exist. Isn't that nice to know?" she growled, eyes sparking and looking like every inch of her nickname. Sometimes, Haku thought, there was worth in growing into the names one was given.

 

"Indeed," said Haku. "For what it's worth, I'm willing to bet it will be a long time before they make that mistake again."

 

"You would think so, but you never know, not with the way things go in this library," the Dragon Lady ran weary hand down the side of her face. She looked immeasurably tired. "If it's not the central office, it's the computers. If it's not the computers, it's the patrons. If it's not the patrons, it's the books itself... or at least their information that's gone missing. Sometimes, it's as if the library itself doesn't want to exist anymore, strange as it sounds."

 

"It doesn't sound strange to me," Haku said softly, and the Dragon Lady turned to look at him, really look at him (or as well as a human can ever look at a god).

 

She unconsciously took one step back into her office, but he followed her and closed the door,while sending out a sense of reassurance as best as he could. "But you were saying that the books themselves - or their information - was going missing? Tell me about that."

 

"Well," the Dragon Lady said, eyes somewhat dazed, somewhat puzzled and still somewhat fierce. "There are some books still not on the online catalog, you see. When we switched over, it wasn't like the card catalog magically got entered into the database. All the librarians had to code in and assign a number to each book by hand, but some people didn't know what they were doing."

 

Anger, real anger, flared in the woman's eyes, and her fists clenched. "How could those damn fools not know how every part of the library is interconnected, especially in how the information works? So much of the information got scattered... and how can you be a library without knowing what books you have? But we've got most of it back..."

 

"You mean you've mostly put the information back," Haku corrected her gently. The Dragon Lady merely firmed her lips, eyes defiant.

 

"Yes," she finally grit. "Every book that's in this place. I just need to find the last ones. I'm nearly done."

 

"It will be done. It will be successful, and you've made sure it won't ever happen again. That's why you wanted all of us to learn all the jobs." he said, and he put all the certainty that he held within him in those words. He watched as her shoulders slumped in relief. "Trust me. You will be successful."

 

"I will," she echoed.

 

"And your faith will prove true," Haku finally broke eye contact with her, and the woman took a deep breath. Her back straightened.

 

"What?" she asked, blinking wildly.

 

"I just said that I have faith that the library will be up and running again," Haku said, nodding. "But, well, I better go help Kuwabara."

 

"Yes, you'd better. And then you're on the shelves stacking," she said, the old brusque tone was back in her voice. Haku found that he had missed it.

 

"Ah, one more thing. If you could pardon my forwardness, what is your name?" Haku asked as he reached for the door handle.

 

"You mean beyond Dragon Lady?" Dragon Lady quirked an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes at Haku's expression. "Of course I know what Kuwabara calls me. But it's Shinako. Yamaguchi Shinako."

 

The gateway to faith. It amused him, how truly she'd been named, and how she lived up to it. If there was any hope for this library's spirit, it would be in her. If Chihiro's love had been his sole anchor in this world, then surely Shinako was the same for the library spirit. Perhaps she was why the spirit hadn't died, not quite yet.

 

"It suits you," he said. "You have faith in this library."

 

"That's a strange thing to hear from such a young man," she mused, studying him with uncanny eyes. "But then you're a very strange man."

 

Haku shrugged. "Aren't most librarians?"

 

Her lips twitched, in almost a smile. "It must be a requirement of the profession. We love books, and seek to protect that legacy. It's something most people don't think of, but we're waging a war against ignorance."

 

"I've heard Kuwabara speak about that before," he said. "Books are important, Yamaguchi-sensei, but it's the spirit of this place which truly needs to be defended. Though the model of libraries are changing, the essential heart of it remains true: the library is the home of knowledge itself, no matter what form it may take."

 

"I'm surprised you'd say that, Ogino-san," she said, turning away from him to walk around her desk to reclaim her seat. "I thought you were a fellow bibliophile."

 

"I love books," he agreed. "But it was revealed to me recently that there's other frontiers beyond books, worlds available through electronic media I hadn't considered before."

 

"Perhaps." She shifted in her seat, before folding her hands on her desk. "I just can't help but thinking something is being lost in this transition, though. There's something romantic about paper and ink, something which doesn't translate. I can't help but think there's no spirits in electronic things."

 

"Funny, I once thought that way too," Haku admitted. "But now..." He allowed his voice to drift off, musing.

 

"Now?" Shinako prompted.

 

"I think there can be spirit in all things, especially those touched by human hands," Haku said. "It finds a way."

 

She was quiet for a long time. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I suppose it's in what you believe."

 

"Or if people believe in you," he replied, treading a dangerous line.

 

"I guess it's too bad spirits can't believe in themselves," Shinako's hand drifted to her desk and rested on the pile of books there.

 

"Perhaps not," Haku said. "A god with no followers is a horrible thing to contemplate, isn't it?" He smiled and shut his eyes, feeling the pull of his new river and humanity's belief in it. "Excuse me, but I've got work to do."

 

The rest of the day was both horrible and wonderful. Horrible, because he had to evade Kuwabara, who was full of too many questions that Haku couldn't answer yet. Horrible, because time seemed to move slowly and he only wanted to get home to see Chihiro and show her what he'd become. Horrible, because a mother had seen fit to drop off her kids who too sick to be allowed in school instead of sending them to a babysitter, and Haku had been the one forced to clean up after them.

 

Wonderful, because he had been given another chance.

 

And then day went something beyond horrible and wonderful and headed towards ineffable when finally (after cleaning off his shoes from the entire kid experience) he finished logging out of the system and shutting down the library. Kuwabara and Nakajima had already left.

 

Surprisingly, Shinako also turned to go as soon as the hands of the clock signaled the end of their shift.

 

"There's not much more I can do tonight," she said, as she put the last file folder into her purse. "It's been a very long day for us all, but thank you for your help. I trust you can lock up while I go ahead?"

 

The entire time that he had been employed, closing and locking the library was the one task he had never seen Shinako delegate to anyone else, at least not without her supervision. Yet, she turned without pause and started for the door.

 

"Yamaguchi-san?" he called.

 

"Yes?" she asked.

 

"I would be honored to," he replied. And for the first time since meeting a human other than Chihiro, he found he truly was.

 

Locking up only took a couple of minutes, during which Mu didn't deign to make an appearance. Tomorrow, perhaps, he would invite the brush spirit to visit over an evening after the library had closed. He doubted Mu would accept, not until after the library's spirit had been revived.

 

He had more respect for Mu, now that he realized what the spirit had been doing. Mu had been working hard to keep the library alive, but it wasn't its true purpose and it must have been a challenge. It was no wonder it had stepped aside, once Haku had realized that he shouldn't fear change.

 

And changed he had. He was still a wild dragon, though, and even if he was no longer a river, he still remembered what fish were like - or better yet, the essence of fish.

 

There was just enough ink left in the ink stick. And he found that, although not traditional, printer paper would take ink reluctantly.

 

He thought he heard a delighted purr, even as he turned the lock to the backdoor and left.

 

He had written the kanji for tuna rather beautifully, if he had to say so himself.

Chapter Text

Haku arrived home after his wife that evening, walking through another light rain shower. The water felt strange upon his skin for a couple of moments, like jolts of static electricity, but then he thought of his former river and the conflict was resolve. It worried him a bit, since he might have to deal with new preferences and new aversions.

 

Change came with sacrifice, after all.

 

"I'm home!" he called, entering and removing his shoes in the genkan.

 

Chihiro stepped out of the living room to greet him, but froze as soon as she saw him. "Oh!" she exclaimed. Chihiro lifted hand to cover her mouth as her eyes went insanely wide.

 

She stood a couple meters away from him, just staring for a long moment. Haku waited for her to speak, but she was immobile. All he could hear was the sound of her breathing, quickened by shock.

 

"Kohaku?" she said finally, her voice breaking on the last syllable of his name.

 

The sound of his real name instilled a similar hesitation in himself. She rarely called him that, preferring the more familiar "Haku." Her uncertainty sparked uncertainty in himself, and for a second he felt as far apart from her as they had been when she'd first left the Aburaya.

 

"It's me, Chihiro," he replied.

 

She nodded, and her hand dropped limply from her mouth down to her side. "What happened?" she whispered, and her eyes flashed with an emotion he could only identify as fear.

 

He didn't know how to explain. If someone had asked him this morning, he would have said he could tell Chihiro anything, but at this moment, he found himself lacking words. He had never thought it would be possible to find something that might separate them, but now he had to admit a hint of doubt to his former certainty.

 

Haku had changed. Would she still be able to love him?

 

The quiet started to grow uncomfortably long, and he heard the kettle on the stove start to shriek. He'd thought the day had dragged, but that was nothing compared to the moments now ticking by.

 

Her eyes started to get glassy, and he thought she might cry. It had been a long time since he'd seen her tears, and he reacted the only way he knew how. Stepping forward, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "It's okay," he murmured, knowing he would do whatever was necessary to ensure that it would be.

 

He would have faith in Chihiro, and the life they had built together.

 

She clung to him tightly, her hands lifting to encircle his neck. He felt the warmth of something wet against his chest, and pulled back a moment later to kiss her tears away.

 

He didn't know how long he held onto her afterward; he only knew time finally started again when she stopped shaking in his arms and her breaths grew deep and long again.

 

It was she that pulled away, and took a step back to truly looked at him. Chihiro reached a hesitant hand out, fingers slowly trailing through his hair until she reached the band he used to keep the strands together. Her breath caught again, and Haku wondered what she saw.

 

In truth, he hadn't had a glimpse of himself since the change overtook him. He didn't think it would have affected his human body that much; Shinako had implied his hair had changed somewhat, but his human body didn't always reflect his inner self accurately. None of his other coworkers had noticed a change, or if they had, they hadn't said anything.

 

Chihiro, though, knew how to look beyond everything that he was on the outside. And Haku knew that if he were to transform to his full length, he would find himself much, much different.

 

"How do I look?" he asked her. Her fingers trembled against his hairband.

 

"You don't know?" she said.

 

"I can feel it changed," he replied, "but I didn't look. I just didn't have the right mirror, you know. I didn't have you."

 

This time, when her breath caught again, her fingers did not tremble and her hands were steady as she pulled his hairband free and wrapped it around her wrist. His hair cascaded around his face, and Haku caught a glimpse of it.

 

Silver highlights had replaced the slightest green sheen that he used to carry. "I guess I look old now," he said.

 

"No," Chihiro shook her head, leaning against him again. "You've changed, yeah, but ... you're still beautiful."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah. You are. You'll always be, to me. But still... we gotta talk."

 

Haku nodded, and they went outside to sit on the porch, which overlooked a koi pond. They sat on the edge, their bodies turned toward each other so their knees were against each other.

 

"How?" she asked. "And why?"

 

"As for the how, well, I am not certain. All I know is there was a need, and sometimes, that's enough," he said as he watched the fish trail through the cold water. The sight brought a strange sort of melancholy with it, which curled up through him like the last thin wisp of smoke from a dying fire. He moved closer to Chihiro. "It made a space, I guess. Gods can't be born into electric things, but perhaps we can move into them. As for the why..."

 

He tilted his head to look at the night sky. It was clearing now, and he could see the hint of stars.

 

"I don't know that for certain, either," he finally said as he watched the fish gulp at the surface of the pond, seemingly desperate for air that they could not survive in.

 

"It's not just your looks that have changed," Chihiro said, rather than asked. "What are you the god of now?"

 

He blinked, realizing that he hadn't even told her what he'd become. She could see the difference, and likely felt it as well, but she didn't know, not the way another spirit would. Despite how wonderful she was, Chihiro was limited by her humanity.

 

"Give me your cellphone," he said.

 

She frowned in confusion, knowing her husband's dislike of them. Haku didn't even have one of his own, making him an oddity in high tech Japan. But she frowned and dug into her pocket, pulling out her cute pink phone. "Please don't break it," she said.

 

Haku might have felt hurt at her distrust, but he had accidentally broken her previous phone so there was a reason for her words. Smiling, he flipped it open and turned it so it was facing her, and she could watched the screen.

 

Holding the phone felt different. He didn't see it as something to resent or fear, merely a conduit for accessing his new domain. He could feel it out there, and all he had to do was think of what he wanted to reach it. Without touching a button, he had the phone hooked into the Internet and brought up a web page on Shintoism.

 

Chihiro flinched away from him, just for a second. He knew the reaction had been involuntary; humans often reacted that way when faced with something just out of their ken. Chihiro was human, after all.

 

But she was also Chihiro to him, and it made his very being ache, even if it was just for a second.

 

Then she leaning towards him again, hands reaching unquestioningly for the phone. Her eyes were wide, her mouth half open.

 

Even after all the years they had spent together, Chihiro had never lost her wonder of him. It had been tempered, of course, changing from the young, innocent joy of a child to that of a mature woman who was sure of her place in the world, as well as his place in her life. It was that sort of wonder he saw in her eyes on the rare occasion she woke earlier than he and he found her just gazing at him, smiling a soft, secret smile.

 

The wonder she had on her face now was not that of a child nor that of a wife. It was just of a human discovering that yes, there were gods, and they were much different than she ever could be. She had never worn quite that expression when facing him.

 

And Haku found he didn't like that at all.

 

He let her reclaim the phone, watching for what she would do next. He didn't want to speak, because he might inadvertently damage their relationship. Never before had their love felt so fragile.

 

"How did you do that?" she asked. "If I'd given you my phone yesterday, you'd probably have caused it to implode."

 

"I needed to connect the library back to the internet. Mu isn't the right type of spirit to keep that kind of connection going, and I didn't have a specific purpose anymore, not since..." he hesitated, before finishing his thought, "Not since the Kohaku river was dammed."

 

The words still hurt, but the pain was more distant than it'd ever been in the past. He didn't think he would ever stop mourning, but he was starting to move on.

 

"And connecting it was like..." he found himself running out of words again. How could one explain the ineffable to someone else? Even to another god, he doubted he could explain how it felt. In losing his - no, the - river, he had lost a part of his godhood, but he had never lost the feeling of being a god.

 

And now, with the new - no, his new - domain, it wasn't as much of a transition; it was as if he had always been the god of the electric river and would always be. He didn't even have the correct human words or even the tenses to even start describing it all.

 

He stared at Chihiro silently. After a quiet moment of both of them staring at anything but each other, she finally chuckled and reached for his hand.

 

"So I gather it's kinda a hard thing to just put in words, huh," she said.

 

"The only moments I know that was greater," he finally said, because he could and because it was the truth, "was when you called out my name, my whole name, for the first time in the Spirit world. And when I got to take your name, much later."

 

"Oh," she said, and her fingers tightened, just a bit. And with that, he felt the pain from her earlier flinch ease. "Oh. You idiot. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

 

"Hmm," was all he said in reply.

 

She laughed then, a light, girlish sound that rung in the air between them. "So if your hair has changed, has your dragonshape changed as well?" she asked.

 

"It's not out of the question," he replied, smiling at her. He knew he was different, and that would reflect on his other form, the form that was in touch with the spiritual realm and his inner being.

 

"I want to see," she said.

 

Changing was something that had always come easily to him; water could change shape at will, and his nature was like that, flowing to fit whatever form was needed. It was never the container that was important.

 

But for the first time, he did feel just the slightest bit of trepidation.

 

If his very essence had shifted, then what of the container?

 

Chihiro's hand against his shoulder was steady. "Hey," she said, "the sky's clear now. Perhaps we can go flying."

 

Her words and her soft confidence were enough. He rose to his feet and took three steps away, and let the human shape fall from him. And it wasn't like stretching out or stretching thin, or expanding outward, or being pulled apart. It was like being absorbed into a current - an electric one this time. He shivered, just once, and then he had four legs instead of two.

 

And as always, he turned to look at Chihiro, to gaze at her eyes to find out how he truly looked.

 

She had pursed her lips, and her hands were on her waist. But the crinkle in her eyes told him that she was trying not to smile, "Your hair's gone all silver and gold. But your scales are still the same." She reached out a hand, stroking him just so underneath where his horns... he still had horns... met his scalp. He crooned.

 

"Itchy spot's still the same, huh? So, the outside's just gone through a repaint," she chuckled. "C'mon, let's take a test run."

 

And he found, when he scooped her up and put her on his back ... just like always, that his neck was still shaped just right for her to settle and cling to his horns. And just like always, her laughter was still the same.

 

And as for the wonder he felt -- for the child she used to be, the wife she was now, and the mortal she would always be - it was all rolled up and entwined in how she laid her head against his as he rose to circle the stars.

Chapter Text

It was hard to remember, sometimes, that he hadn't always felt comfortable in the library. But as the first anniversary of his walking through the doors approached, Haku couldn't imagine working anywhere else. Chihiro teased him that he was in danger of turning into a real bookwyrm.

 

He was able to handle whatever was thrown at him, and he found he liked the variety of tasks that came with being a librarian. Shelving was still comfortable, but in a nostalgic way rather than as a place to hide. Most of his tasks were centered around the library's electronic resources, since Shinako had learned he was the one who could always keep things running.

 

The Dragon Lady would always be adamant about every employee knowing the minutia of the library. After getting burned once, he could understand her obsession. But somehow, even she seemed to sense that the electronic resources were really where he was supposed to be, so she never really made a concentrated effort to shift him elsewhere. Her own efforts to finish the lost catalog had increased, and every day, Haku could feel the very stones in the walls vibrate slightly in anticipation.

 

He was patient, however. He could wait, especially now that he did not feel as if he was encroaching. Perhaps the strangest thing about his new domain was that he had no real domain, or at least, not in a physical space. It had been the hardest to get used to, strangely enough, even for a being that represented something that was wholly based on faith and the ineffable. The electronic river did not have a bank, did not have a real course, and never flowed in one direction. But it did have its tides and its pulls and its floods, and in that, it needed its master. He didn't even really need a computer anymore to access the net; with the availability of mass wireless coverage, it was like being immersed with every step.

 

Though if he had to assign a place to his new domain, perhaps it would be in his new state of the art computer room at home. He was up to four visible servers and counting. Perhaps it was an irony that the gold from his lost river was giving his new river a form, but he also found it fitting. Akio, though, grumbled about just how much it all cost.

 

Chihiro was doing her best to be supportive. Having her grounded him back in reality, reminding him that he was living a human life. Once or twice he'd become so fascinated with exploring his constantly-changing new realm that she had to shake him to refocus him on his surroundings. He was trying not to worry her, for as marvelous as his new river was, he loved her more.

 

If he had to choose, he would always choose her. That would not change.

 

And it could not change. There was a danger in losing himself in the internet, to never coalesce in any shape or form. As a river, he had his banks.

 

As for now, he had Chihiro.

 

Along with a mother load of work.

 

Nakajima had left the library early – as was becoming her habit, since at eight months pregnant she found herself tiring easily and short on energy – leaving him to cover both her job as well as his own. He'd been putting in some overtime, but didn't mind. Nakajima's gratitude was well worth it, and Haku could hardly wait to see her child. There was something exciting about being around the promise of a new life.

 

He'd already rescanned the returns to log them in, cheating only a little. The library's machines were in need of an update, and Haku had to "nudge" them just a little to make sure they remained working efficiently. It wasn't quite his domain, but a modern spirit had to be adaptable.

 

Kuwabara had taken to calling him "The One" or "Ghost in the Machine Man" over the time, because the library technology had taken a quantum leap forward, even though the library equipment had not. Even the oldest machine in the building, a creaky relic from the bygone years of Commodores and floppy disks which flopped, would run as easy as the newest shiny gizmo from Akihabara. (Sometimes, though, when the teasing got a little too much, Haku let just the hint of a trojan to slip onto Kuwabara's laptop. Especially when it wasn't hooked up to the net. It kept the man guessing.) It had gotten to the point where people had started bringing their laptops into the building just to access its wireless. There was no other place, they claimed, that their machines worked better.

 

The increase in traffic had also a side benefit. Being around books seemed to make even the techiest of techies more inclined to check them out.

 

Since the patronage and circulation were up, the main branch announced that they were thinking about increasing the budget for next year so that a software, hardware, and book upgrade was in the future. All in all, Haku reflected, there was ample reason to feel good about life and the way things were going.

 

The library seemed to be feeling pretty good, too. In the last couple of days especially he'd feel the air start to hum with imminence, like the moment just before the sunrise. He knew that something was stirring in the library, a presence which had been muted recently but was beginning to find its voice again.

 

And he knew what – or, rather, whom – was the cause.

 

Shinako was almost done with her project with the card catalog. It was a remarkable effort which made his head spin just to think about, the knowledge that one woman was almost single-highhandedly reviving a library god.

 

As closing time neared, he could feel the thrum in the air, and wondered if today would be the day.

 

The very walls seemed to be humming at a frequency that made his (somewhat non-existent) whiskers twitch. The patrons also seemed to catch the spirit. No matter how dour or upset they were at coming in, each patron left with a smile. Everyone seemed to be able to get the exact article, book or magazine they had requested. Even the children's section remained quiet, the shelves neat, and the normally grubby-fingered hellions were content to sit in one place, page through a book, and - wonders of wonders - put the books back on the shelving carts after they were done with them.

 

In the corners of his eyes, he could catch the slightest hint of a black tail and the flash of a yellow eye.

 

Mu did not manifest often in the library during opening hours anymore. Haku understood that it was half due to a sense of respect for propriety - the only kind of respect, actually, that cats could give - and half because it was attending to its own domain. Like Haku, its own world and word had shifted, but it never forgot what his purpose was.

 

Still, perhaps since he hated the sense of debt between them - and perhaps because Chihiro had suggested it - Haku had tentatively mentioned to Shinako that the library would be the perfect place to host a calligraphy club. She had agreed.

 

Haku wondered how he would feel if he was to see a reminder of his old river (had it still been there), but the thought rattled through him discordantly, as if he was holding his breath just to squeeze into a skin that was too small now.

 

But right after the club met (every Wednesday night, for one hour just before closing), Mu would appear, and it seemed sleeker each time. It was the one day Haku could count on seeing his friend.

 

Mu, though, had tired of just appearing in the corners. It suddenly popped into existence over Haku's console, one eye bright, and fur fuzzed up. It nodded once.

 

"Is it time?" Haku murmured. No one was around him, directly, but the last thing he wanted was to be seen talking to a cat.

 

"Almost," Mu said. "As long as the miko doesn't get interrupted, it should be soon."

 

Haku smiled, struck by the idea of Shinako as a miko. It made a peculiar sort of sense, but he had a hard time imagining her in the traditional garb of a shrine maiden. "Are you going to go keep the library spirit company?"

 

Mu's tail twitched quickly, in the manner of a cat about to pounce. "Maybe. Maybe not."

 

"Wouldn't it be more pleasant to awaken to an old friend's company?"

 

The whiskers twitched this time. "Maybe. Maybe not," Mu repeated.

 

Haku thought on the cat's uncharacteristic indecisiveness. Mu represented the third option in an either-or situation, but it always had some sense of direction. Haku had known Mu felt protective of the library spirit, but hadn't realized it was concerned about what the library spirit was changing into. "At heart, we all remain the same," Haku said finally. "If he was your friend once, he will remain your friend."

 

"She," Mu corrected. "She was my friend."

 

Haku nodded once, encouragingly. He started walking to the back of the delivery room, an area he knew would be empty at this time. Mu followed behind, stepping with an odd ambling urgency that cats sometimes showed when they felt they were obliged to be somewhere, but did not want to rush to be there.

 

"It will be different, but you of all beings shouldn't be afraid of that," he murmured again, when it seemed obvious that Mu wasn't going to continue.

 

"I know." The brush god picked up a dainty paw and began grooming it. However, the tense way its tail snapped about belied its outward poise.

 

"But still, it must have been hard, for a brush god with a name like yours to hold a friendship, any friendship," Haku said as he started unpacking the delivery boxes.

 

"Yes and no. It's neither easy nor hard... I'm just the third choice to a binary question." Mu began on its other paw.

 

"And that's why you don't like concrete answers," Haku said softly. "While the god's state was uncertain, you probably understood that more than most."

 

"Perhaps I should be called Schrodinger," Mu chuckled, but there was little humor in its voice.

 

"And now she's nearly back..."

 

"Now I'll know that answer, finally. But, dragon of the electric seas, do you know my question?"

 

"Yes and no," Haku replied, since it was Mu's nature to dislike certainties. "Your main question is 'what if,' but you have more than one question that starts that way, and there is only one answer. The only thing that matters is that she will be back," Haku said.

 

For a long moment, Mu stared at him, one eye narrowed. Then it nodded slowly, body stilling.

 

"And perhaps the other important thing is with her, I was not alone, but even without her, I wasn't alone, either," it said.

 

And Haku knew, at that moment, that it was as close to a "thank you" as he ever was going to get from a brush god.

 

Or a cat.

 

"I'll come see you before I leave for the day," Haku promised. "Where can I find you?"

 

"I'll find you," Mu returned. "Perhaps you should think about the overdue tribute you will offer her... but perhaps, hmmm...."

 

"What?" Haku asked, suspiciously.

 

"Perhaps we're the ones who should be offering tributes to you." Mu blinked once, long and slow, like a wink in slow motion. "You have gotten very large, dragon of the electric sea."

 

Before Haku could answer that, the brush god had wisped into nothing. And in the air, he could feel the sharp readiness of something gaining momentum. As he absorbed and analyzed the phenomenon the data streams that always surrounded him quivered. (And at that moment across Japan and all of Asia, every website or message board dedicated to the study of Shinto gods found themselves flooded and under a DOS attack).

 

He had witnessed the death of many gods. He had been witness to the rare birth of several more. But he had never seen any rebirth, save his own, and he only witnessed that through the reactions of a third party.

 

He found himself holding the breath he didn't really have to take, even as he made his way towards Shinako's office.

 

The clock he passed indicated there was only fifteen minutes until closing, and he wanted to encourage Shinako to finish today. He wasn't sure if he could bear another day of this feeling, the swell of eagerness and curiosity that made him jittery, like a human who had consumed too much caffeine.

 

He knocked lightly on her door with his knuckles. He heard her call out for him to enter, and turned the doorknob gently.

 

"Can I help you, Ogino-san?" she asked, not looking up from her work.

 

She looked prettier than he'd ever seen her, with her salt-and-pepper hair loose around her face. Despite the white in her hair, her face appeared young and healthy, and the usual lines seemed to have been smoothed away. The god's stirring presence was having a positive effect on her, even though Shinako didn't realize it.

 

"I came to see how you were coming on the catalog project," he told her honestly.

 

Her fingers kept clicking on her keyboard, even as she looked up into his face. "How did you know I was working on that?"

 

"I have my ways," he replied mysteriously, letting a small smile curve his lips.

 

"You must," she replied, pausing to flip over an index card onto a tall stack and pull another one from an even smaller pile closer.

 

"You are nearly done, I see," he said, for the pile was nearing its end. He thought she had maybe thirty left.

 

"You want to help?" she asked.

 

"No," he quickly shook his head. Shinako squinted at him, mouth twisting slightly into a frown. "You started it. You should complete it."

 

"Okay," she said, her mouth twisting further. She looked up at him, obviously wanting to ask "then why are you here?" but not finding quite the right way to ask it.

 

The air in the room seemed even thicker now.

 

He let his smile grow a little, as he slid into the seat she kept for visitors without waiting for an invitation. "I just thought you might want to have a witness for this. Remember when I told you you'd complete this task?"

 

She nodded slowly as she finished entering the data from another card. "It was a strange day," she said.

 

"It was, I guess," said Haku.

 

"You're strange too, Ogino-san," she said, then put a hand up to her mouth. Shinako could be quite blunt, but she did at least try, nowadays, not to be actively rude to him. "Ah," she fumbled. "What I mean..."

 

"It is fine," Haku said. "I'm not offended. Where no offense is meant, none should be taken."

 

"But still, that doesn't mean I wasn't out of bounds," she said, hands drifting to the cards. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but you're different now, in the way I can't explain. You weren't like this when you first came here, to these stacks. I guess it just comes from being a librarian. I've worked with a lot of people, over the years. And the one thing that links us, you know, is that all of us - no matter what age - we're always looking for some sort of answer to something, especially those who come through these doors, to this place. But you... you seemed to have found an answer - all your answers. I guess that's the best as I can put it."

 

Haku shrugged, "I don't know if you're right."

 

"Just call it a librarian's hunch, from years of helping people search for things, sometimes when they didn't even know what they were looking for," Shinako laughed. Haku felt himself smile as well. "But yes, seeing someone having the answer to well - everything - is rather reassuring, in an odd way. And I'm glad that you seemed to have found it here. That's what a library is for."

 

"Mu's right. You are a good miko," Haku murmured.

 

"What?"

 

He tilted his head, smiling ever so softly. "I just said isn't it time to make things right?"

 

Shinako just gave him a long look, frowning, then reached for the next card. "You're a rotten liar," she returned gruffly. "I know I should be sending you out to do... something... but I think I want a witness. I've got three cards left, and then the card catalog will finally be complete."

 

"It would be my honor," he murmured, lowering his head slightly. It wasn't quite a bow, but it was as low as he'd go for a human.

 

He could see her excitement as she flipped over another card and quickly filled in the electronic form. Two books left, he thought, and remained still as she worked her way to the last card.

 

"I know it's ridiculous, but I'm so pleased with this," she said. "I know most people aren't going to care that the catalog is perfect, but it matters to me more than it should." She held up the last card in her right hand. "Isn't it funny? The last book is a copy of Kojiki. Whether anyone will check it out or not, it'll be here for them to find."

 

"With whatever answers it may bring," Haku agreed softly. The very earth underneath his feet shivered; it was a wonder the humans didn't feel it. "And no, I don't blame you for being pleased."

 

Shinako gave him a sidelong glance. "It almost seems anti-climatic, you know. But here goes..."

 

He held his breath as she pressed the enter key... and the world around him suddenly came into focus.

 

He could feel the library spirit come into full wakefulness. Despite Mu's jibes about paying him tribute, Haku was still working inside of her domain. He could feel the magic coalesce into the library's system, in the terminals which he'd been using to connect to his own domain.

 

The feeling was akin to how a human might have felt when taking that first, shuddering breath, after spending a long, long time without air. Reality itself seemed to draw in upon itself, as it tried to resist (as it always did) the change.

 

Then came the exhalation. One moment, there was nothing. Then, there was something like the switching on of a light.

 

For Haku, it was like shedding dry scales, a feeling of relief. He hadn't realized how much the library spirit's comatose state had preyed at him, not until this moment when it suddenly wasn't a factor. He could breathe more easily now without that feeling of uncertainty hanging over his head.

 

Shinako, however, was human and didn't notice the change in the spiritual realm. All she saw was another blank screen, waiting for her to enter in more data if she wished. So she simply pushed herself back from the desk, raised her arms behind her head and allowed herself to indulge in a stretch. "It's time to close," she said, glancing at the clock.

 

It was almost anti-climatic, Haku thought, as he watched her walk towards the checkout desk, apparently to help Kuwabara finish shepherding out the last few patrons. To the humans, it was like nothing had happened.

 

And to them, nothing really had. Unlike his ascendancy, the library spirit's renewal was not about changing or becoming but about just being again.

 

He did notice, however, that the humans did seem just the slightest bit more at ease. They may not have known why, but some part of them could feel the completeness. The rightness. A library was a place for answers; the spirit being back meant that the answers perhaps had more meaning than ever.

 

That was what gods were for, at any rate.

 

He turned to go as well.

 

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

 

He turned to smile down at Mu. "You said you'd find me. Have you found your answer as well?"

 

"We'll see," Mu answered, but there was amusement in its eye. "I think you should stop by the desk before you leave, though."

 

Haku nodded graciously, before turning away from the cat. "I'll see you tomorrow," he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the desk.

 

Kuwabara had stepped away and was chasing the stragglers out of the library. Haku glanced around, trying to see the god, but found nothing. He could feel her presence, though, and knew she had to be close. Mu had pointed him toward the desk, and the brush spirit had no reason to mislead him.

 

Unless he wasn't looking in the right direction.

 

He stepped away from his side, where the librarians stood and waited on patrons, walking around to the public's area. Libraries, as Kuwabara was always ranting, were meant to be for the people.

 

And then he saw her, deceptively small but stunningly beautiful. Mu had told him he needed to offer a tribute, and maybe later he would, but for now he would start by offering his greetings – and a chance at friendship.

 

"Hello," he said, smiling at her. "I've been waiting to meet you."

 

END