Princess Mononoke Fan Fiction / Spirited Away Fan Fiction ❯ A Thousand Fathoms ❯ Catharsis ( Chapter 9 )

Author's Notes: Wow. I remember when the Spirited Away category only had 32 stories and now it has 1203. Amazing what two years can do, huh?

 

I'm extremely rusty; you'll see as soon as you read it. I never thought it'd take this long to update. Though I'm sure the story won't follow exactly what I had planned three years ago, I will try to stay as true to the story as possible. Seeing as I haven't written Spirited Away in a long time, please give me an inch of leeway. I'm always up for constructive criticism if you're willing to give it. I will be coming back to this chapter to revise it, no worries. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Spirited Away.

Rating: PG-13 (Ratings may change)

Summary: Seven years, one month, two weeks, four days, and two hours, but hey who's counting? Never a dream. I would never let myself believe it was a dream. “Oh God, I'm actually going through with this!” I took a step.

~*~*~*~ A Thousand Fathoms ~*~*~*~

Chapter 9:Catharsis

Colors swirled, twisting, melting into one another as I made my way to my unit's housing. I vaguely remember strong lithe hands holding me up and a powerful commanding body guiding me home. My mind was blank; there was nothing, no feeling, no thought. I couldn't even feel my injuries anymore. My face was wet and my skin stung. I ended up in the unit sooner than I thought. Worried, hushed voices sailed through me, faces drifted past, I floated through the room, mumbling, trying to remove myself from the person holding me. We entered the bathroom, and I only knew where I was because of the soapy smell. The person forced me to sit and I did. I had no will to fight anymore.

As my guide sat, my blurry vision slowly focused. Rebi, a deeply troubled look covering her features leaned over the counter and dipped the edge of a washcloth into a bowl of water. She brought the damp cloth to my swollen lip, and only then did I realize, as the fresh water dripped into my mouth, that the liquid on my face was salty tears. The cloth barely touched my lip and I winced in pain. I looked at the white cloth now covered in dried brown blood.

I turned to the mirror.

I was dead. Walking dead. My skin pale, translucent, except for the bruised and blood stained patches. My entire right eye was black, swollen shut, and oozing tears. My whole bottom lip was twice its normal size. There was a black line of bruised skin on my forehead, and a distinctive bump on the left side of my head. How did I survive? How was I even alive?

The moment I saw my image everything in the past weeks at the Aburaya flooded like a whirlpool inside my body. Before I knew it, gut wrenching sobs burst from my aching, tired body. Everything hurt—everything—my heart most of all, because the one person I wanted to be there, to hold me and comfort me, wasn't there. Who knew if I'd ever see him again.

Strong limbs covered by bone and skin enveloped me, folded over me. I was protected, loved, but by not Haku, and the sobs erupted, the tears, the moans of pure agony, screams of wanting to be home, wanting my mom, my dog, my dragon, my Haku.

Rebi told me later that I cried for hours. I fell asleep in her arms and she carried me to my bed with strength I didn't know she possessed.

The next day I slept. I didn't talk to anyone. I stayed in my corner and only got up to go the bathroom when no one else was present.

Not once did I stop crying.