Spirited Away: The Wait [ORIGINAL]

Waiting

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Spirited Away, all rights go to Hayao Miyazaki and associates. 

A/N: Hi guys! If you're new to this story or simply re-reading it to pass the time, I HIGHLY recommend starting on the new version of 'The Wait' that I just published... like two minutes ago. :) Thanks for reading!

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The silent rustle of leaves filled the calm air, withered, dry ones floating gracefully down towards the brown soil below. Little sparrows hopped about, their little beaks reaching swiftly for the tiny bread crumbs graciously sprinkled about to fill their stomachs. A young woman watched them, humming along to a soft melody. The corners of her lips turned up into a soft and gentle smile as she adored the cute birds. Turning her head, she stared out into the distant sunset.

Glorious streaks of gold, orange and reddish-pink painted the sky, and the woman sighed in awe. Her hand reached out to the semi-circle of sun, imagining her fingers brushing the soft edges of the large star. She exhaled and took another look at the sparrows that were almost finishing their meal. Their rhythmic chirping filled in the silence that was beginning to surround her. Her mind then began traveling back in time to a memory that would forever remain in her heart.

Hasty click-clacks of a woman's heels sounded clearly through the hallways as she jogged past rooms, past doctors and nurses, her panicked eyes turning watery. Her hair was in a mess and her forehead sweaty. Short pants left her as she continued with the painful exercise. Her legs would surely suffer later, but she couldn't care less. She was already running out of time. Making a left turn down the hall like she had done so many times, she easily located the door. Turning the knob quickly, she rushed in, hazel eyes big as she saw the doctors and nurses moving aside from the bed, allowing her space. Her mother was kneeling on the other side of the bed, crying her eyes out while holding on to her dying husband's frail hand.

She hurried over to the bedside, dropping to her knees, carelessly throwing her handbag to a corner and grabbing the fragile patient's hand. His wrinkled hand trembled slightly against her cheek where she held it, and she looked on helplessly at his tired eyes that were struggling to keep open.

"Dad! I'm here, I'm here!" she cried anxiously. Tears spilled out of her eyes as she watched the frail man turn his head ever so slightly with whatever strength he could muster. His half-opened eyes took a look at her, taking a few seconds to recognize her before a weak smile formed on his wrinkled face.

"Chi...hiro..." he called softly.

She nodded furiously, sniffling. "I'm here, Dad. You'll be alright. Don't worry, okay?" He closed and opened his eyes, like the understanding, wise man he was in his semi-lucid state.

"Take... care of... yourself... I love you... my baby girl..." he muttered, squeezing her hand so softly it was barely even felt.

"No! You've been fighting for so long! You can't give up! You can't leave me! You can't leave me and Mom alone! Don't leave me..." The girl burst into huge sobs, crying against her beloved father's chest. It rose and lowered softly as she inhaled his lemon mint scent; her favorite scent. He slowly raised his hand, patting and stroking her soft hair.

"I'm always with you..." he said, fingers pushing her chin up, revealing her tear-streaked face and smudged eye make-up. "I'll be in here..." he pointed his finger to her heart, "always..."

His hand then lost its strength, and the room was filled with only the high piercing sound of the sustained tone of the machine.

The woman turned her eyes back to the carefree sparrows, but realized they were now gone. Shifting her focus back to the sunset, the negative emotional feelings tugged at her heart, threatening to make the moisture in her tired eyes fall, but as soon as they had come, they disappeared as her mind was already on its own leaving for another world, an unknown world to many, whereas she was the privileged one, or the not so fortunate one of having discovered it.