The Wait: Twelve Years

Summary: Twelve years later, Chihiro decides that waiting is no longer an option.

Rating: T (may go up in future)

A/N: Hello, I'm back with the new (and hopefully improved) version of 'The Wait'. It's been 3 years since I published this story on and looking back now, I realize there are just so many things I wish I could have done differently on this story. So here is 'The Wait 2.0'! I'm re-writing this story from scratch, I'm shortening it (because I'm going to sieve out all the unnecessarily draggy stuff) and there will be some difference in characterizations (because Chihiro needs to stop being as insecure as a hormonal teenage girl).

If I had to write a review on the original, I would end up writing a whole essay of my grievances.

That's not to say that the general plot will be much different from the original though. Not too sure on that. So don't assume anything.

If you're new to the story, I highly recommend that you don't read the original (unless you really love spoilers) because it'll probably ruin the experience for you? And if you have read the story before and are just going along with this updated version, please be considerate to other newer readers and do not reveal any spoilers in your reviews.

Thank you for reading!

EPIGRAPH

"If we wait until we're ready, we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives."
-Lemony Snicket

It was just another summer's day, but it was cooler than usual; about twenty-six degrees. Shrunken rain clouds were crawling away, revealing the deep blue sea of sky above. Everything in sight was dripping wet. They shimmered under the soft caress of the sun's rays, like gentle ripples on the surface of a calm river.

On a bench sat a woman. She wore a pale blue hospital gown that clung to her small frame, and a blank expression sat on her pallid face. The tips of her fingers were so cold they could barely feel the damp wood beneath them. She resembled a statue, not responding to the soft rustle of the grass against her feet or the sounds of flies in any way.

On days like these, she tended to withdraw into her own thoughts. Her mood would sway like the leaves of the trees around her, while her mind and heartbeat were as restless as the wind that tousled her short brown hair. Memories would then flood her mind: memories of a river that she couldn't cross, of a strange land of creatures, and of a young boy. "You promised," she muttered, creating a ripple in the silence as a certain heaviness tugged at her heart. "Promises aren't meant to be broken."

The same thought had occurred to her countless times over the past twelve years. It wasn't as if she was constantly brooding over it. She had her own life to live, which she did, and quite happily too, at that. She had no shortage of friends or familial love, and all in all, she would say that she was content and thankful for all she had.

But deep down inside her, there was always this void within her that remained empty. It was a void that made her chest feel hollow, and clench with a tight ache all at once. It took a while for her to realize that it was really nothing more than a longing to see them again, and to know that they still remembered her. To be honest, when she looked back, there were times she would wonder if she had simply conjured up all those memories and friends out of pure, wild imagination as a weird child. Other times, she felt like letting go of it all and forgetting anything even happened.

She had attempted to forget many times, but each attempt proved futile. There was just something special about the bonds that she had forged in that magical place that was impossible to erase from her heart.

"Nothing that happens is ever forgotten..."

The words rang in her ears, the endearing voice of the old woman whom she remembered so fondly coming to mind. If that was true, then she supposed even if she did manage to forget all about that bathhouse and its residing spirits, it would probably come back to her eventually, somehow. Special people just had a strange way of making a home in your heart like that, she supposed.

Then again, if she wasn't a special person, she might have been forgotten a long time ago.

It took a while more before the woman finally found the sense to return to the waiting room. Slowly, she moved her numb legs back and forth before gingerly getting up on her feet.

After her weekly checkup at the hospital, Chihiro made her way home together with her mother who had come to pick her up. It was a short drive home, and once they returned, Chihiro busied herself with unpacking, while her mother, Yuko, began making preparations for lunch.

"Chihiro, I'll need to rush off for work in a bit, so you just stay put at home and get some rest, alright?"

"Okay," she replied airily, tossing her bag in a corner and taking a seat at her desk. She closed her eyes briefly, still quite tired from the check-up earlier. There was no time to relax for long though, she had work to do.

Sitting up on her chair, she observed the mess of art supplies littering her desk and her collection of sketches pinned on her noticeboard. The familiar sight somehow diminished the minor headache that had sprung up a while after leaving the hospital. She had been itching to draw since the day before when inspiration struck her while reminiscing.

Picking up her pencil, she began sketching in her favorite sketchbook. It didn't take long for her to be completely absorbed in it; she didn't even notice her mother's call of "goodbye" when she left the house. By the time she was done outlining and painting her newest piece, it was already late afternoon. The hours always just flew by like that when she worked.

Setting down her brush, Chihiro smiled proudly at her newest painting, which was possibly one of her favorites yet. A girl with long flowing hair sat at the corner of the page. Her hair was the colour of the galaxy, constellations and little planets dotting it like intricate accessories. The rest of her body and clothes were not coloured in. Her eyes were distant, looking towards the IV drip that she was connected to, and there in the clear blue solution bag was a miniature dragon staring back at her. Its details had been hard to paint because of its size, but Chihiro had done her best to add everything she could remember: his soft seagreen fur that lined his back, his pearlescent scales that seemed to shimmer on its own, his horns that were sturdy enough to keep her ten-year-old self on board safely, and his claws that seemed able to tear through anything if he so wanted.

Checking the time on her phone, Chihiro realized it was already 4pm. She had to meet a buyer in half an hour, so she made quick work of getting changed and placing another commissioned artwork that she had completed a week ago in a presentable paper bag before leaving the house.

Because of her long-term medical condition, Chihiro had decided to drop out of college in order to lessen the financial burden on her mother. Her father wasn't around anymore, so her mother was the only one left who could support them. There were many occasions in which Chihiro had offered to go out and get a part-time job based on her decent academic qualifications, but her mother had refused, worried that she would only end up overexerting herself.

If it weren't for her art, Chihiro would have no way of earning money for herself. She had not expected to garner such a great following on social media after only a year of posting her daily artwork as nothing more than an emotional outlet for herself, and ever since she had been commissioned by many to make custom drawings for them, in the process earning quite a good amount of money to sustain her daily expenses. Of course, there were times when she would secretly sneak out to get a part-time job at the ramen shop on the other end of the town since it belonged to Ayano, a close friend of hers, as her family business.

Chihiro hummed to herself as she made her way to the other side of the hill where they had ended up after her father took a detour during the move. She visited this place frequently, because it always ended up giving her some form of inspiration. That was why she had brought along her sketchbook and essential art supplies today as well.

The sides of the rocky road were lined with little houses as always, and Chihiro muttered a "Have a good day" under her breath to the little spirits that probably lived in there. She had never seen one before though. Perhaps they were in hibernation with a good number of centuries left before they woke up again.

As she climbed the winding road, Chihiro felt the dull throbbing in her head intensify, and she rubbed her temples to soothe the headache. Maybe she really was falling sick. Oh well, she would just have to sleep it off later.

When she arrived at the familiar road that led straight to the tunnel, Chihiro smiled faintly to herself. She had painted the scenery here too many times to count. The towering red wall that separated their worlds was now covered in a blanket of ugly green moss. Dead leaves lay scattered at the feet of the wall; no one ever came to clean. It was almost as if this was a haunted site; a forgotten part of the town.

Her buyer had not arrived yet. Chihiro had arrived ten minutes before the agreed time, so she decided to look around for a bit. She walked towards the tunnel, standing in front of it, and a wry expression settled on her features as she stared at the entrance that was no longer open. She had tried numerous times to return to that world, despite it going against his old warning of "Don't look back", because she longed to see them all again, to know that they were all doing well and to know if anything had changed in the bathhouse for the better.

Above all, she wanted to see him again.

But the tunnel — or gate, as she preferred to call it — was not very forgiving. Ever since she left, the entrance had been blocked by an invisible wall. She couldn't break through it, no matter how hard she tried, so after a while she simply gave up. The only thing she could do was to wait for him to cross over to her side, if that was even possible, since he apparently couldn't go any further than the edge of the meadow where they had parted.

And in the blink of an eye, twelve years had already passed since she last saw him. Chihiro let out a sigh. Checking her phone for the time, she found that it was already 4.35pm, and still there was no sign of her buyer.

Just then, she felt a strong gust of wind blowing in the direction of the tunnel. Nostalgia washed over her, and her head turned towards the black hole. It was almost as if... the wind was calling her back in.

Hesitantly, she stepped past the little statue till she was just a step away from the entrance. Reaching out her hand, she tried to find the invisible wall that had prevented her entry, but to her surprise, she found nothing of the sort.

Puzzled, she took her first step into the tunnel, and felt her heart skip a beat when nothing in particular happened. There was no sudden force knocking her back out, and the invisible wall seemed to have magically disappeared too.

Excitement pumped through her veins. Was this it? Was this finally it?

But at the same time, apprehension filled her. What would happen if she went against his warning and turned back? Would she be trapped there forever? Would she lose her life the moment she entered the Spirit World?

At that moment, the sound of footsteps behind her startled her and she quickly withdrew from the tunnel. She turned around, not exactly knowing if she was expecting to see a beast or a human, but all she found was her buyer standing before her. He must have run all the way there, if his harsh panting was any indication. With a courteous smile, she handed him the paper bag containing the painting. They had a short conversation about this place — she had mentioned somewhere in one of her posts that this place was her inspiration for many of her artworks, which had sparked his curiosity — and then soon he had to rush off somewhere else.

As sunset came, Chihiro decided it was time to go home to prepare dinner. Throwing one last fleeting glance over her shoulder at the tunnel, she swallowed the desire to recklessly charge in there and find that dragon boy and ask him the questions that she had kept bottled up inside her for twelve whole years. Perhaps she wouldn't have such a chance again. Or if fate allowed, maybe if she came back tomorrow, the gate would still be open.

In any case, she had to go home. That was where she belonged.

Yuko slumped against her chair, tiredly pinching the bridge of her nose. She set her chopsticks down on the plate with a clatter with a weary sigh.

"Bad day?" Chihiro asked, taking her seat opposite her mother at the dining table. Yuko's blouse was just as wrinkled as her forehead at the moment. Strands of gray hair were spilling out of the tight bun she had worn to work in the morning. "You look very tired."

"Yes... There's a lot of work to be done," her mother replied wearily.

"Is it for that conference? You shouldn't overwork yourself."

"Well, If your father were here, things would be done a lot faster. The team just isn't as productive or efficient without him around."

"True," Chihiro agreed. "But you're working so hard and doing a good job too. Give yourself some credit."

"Thanks, dear." Yuko offered her an appreciative smile, even though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's just... not been a good few days."

Setting down her chopsticks, Chihiro placed her hand over her mother's to give it a comforting squeeze.

"I'm fine," Yuko said, patting her daughter's hand. "Let's eat; the food's getting cold. Oh, what's this? You made curry! Dad's favorite!"

"Yeah, I figured I'd make some since I haven't cooked this in a while," Chihiro smiled.

"If your Dad were here, he'd be gobbling down the food straight away like the pig he is!" Yuko laughed, though there was a tinge of sadness in her voice that didn't go unnoticed by Chihiro.

"Mom, are you sure you're okay?" she asked, brows furrowing as she stared at her the older woman.

"I'm okay, really, it's just... it's just one of those days when you really miss having him here to support you and... It's just been a terrible day, Chihiro. I'm sorry..." Her mother's shoulders began to shake as she sobbed into her hands, and immediatley Chihiro was by her mother's side, hugging her tightly.

"I'm sorry, Mom..."

"It's not your fault, Chihiro. There are just some things beyond our control. None of us expected your father to have that illness. And to think that you would have it too... I'm sorry that you have to go through this, darling."

"Don't be. I'm more worried about you; you seem quite overworked," Chihiro replied, exhaling deeply as she blinked furiously to keep the tears from falling. This was not the time to be emotional. "You're tired. How about going upstairs to take a bath? Sleep early."

"I guess you're right. I think I'll eat dinner later, after I wash up and settle down. You eat first, okay?"

"Okay." Chihiro watched as her mother left for the bathroom, and only after making sure she was out of view, did she wipe away the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hands. Sitting herself back down at the table, she ate her dinner in silence.

The next afternoon, Chihiro was back at the tunnel, carrying a small bagpack with her. If this worked, she had one or two days to stay in the Spirit World before she had to go home. She had told her mother in the morning that she would be staying over at Ayano's house for a few days and had already asked Ayano to cover for her if anything unexpected cropped up.

Taking a deep breath, Chihiro tentatively took her first step into the tunnel, and was pleasantly surprised to see that the wall was still not there. Despite the same fears still lingered in the back of her mind, she decided that she had to go. It was now or never. She didn't have all the time in the world, and life was too unpredictable for her to easily say that she could simply come back another time.

Besides, who was to say that she wouldn't end up waiting for the rest of her life if she chose to continue waiting like she had for the past twelve years?

With that conclusion, Chihiro took her first step into that fateful tunnel.

A/N: ...I'll continue editing this later. I'm still not entirely satisfied with how the beginning of this story should be, but I'm kind of out of ideas at the moment so I guess I can only come back another time to see how else I should go about doing this.

Gosh I just really needed to publish this or nothing is going to progress with this story. Wish me luck.

Anyways, thanks for reading! The next chapter will be more interesting, I promise. It's definitely going to be way more fun to write. Wheeee.