Nothing Else Matters

By, azngurlenluv

A/N: My, my… I should be writing Chapter 4 for "Part of Me," but I've had this idea floating around my head for some time, and dad gum it! It won't leave me alone! I think this is what GundamNymph would call a 'plot bunny,' and yes, it IS an evil little thing! I have yet ANOTHER plot bunny hopping around in my head that I hope to get out soon, but I sure as heck would welcome one for "Part of Me…" I seem to get "The Block" when I attempt to work on that story…

Disclaimer: I don't own Spirited Away. It belongs to Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. I guess I can claim ownership of Arimi, but she'll probably never appear in another one of my stories again…


I lie here on the cold pavement as I hear the distant sound of sirens approaching. What happened? I'm not even sure of it myself… I can feel the warmth of my own body leaving me as the sirens approach, but they still sound so far away. A small innocent face swims into my blurry vision.


Her eyes are large and scared, and I lift up a hand to brush away the small strand of hair that has strayed onto her face. My fingers leave a streak of red in their wake as they tuck the strand behind her ear. What is this? Realization strikes me as I stare at the red substance that has found its way onto my hand.


The memory of what had happened floods my mind, causing it to ache and throb more than it already had been. The car… Arimi running into the street… My screams at her to stop… The motion of my legs carrying me to her… The impact… I am brought back from my thoughts as I feel Arimi press my hand to her face.

"Chihiro onee-san…" she whispers.

I smile encouragingly at my little sister of 6 years. I can feel the blood pouring from some deep gash that the impact with the car had given me, but I can't feel any pain. I know that she and I are sitting in a pool of my blood, but I am glad to see that she has naught but a scratch on her cheek.

"Gomen ne… Onee-san, honto ni, gomen ne!" she cries as the tears finally escape from her eyes.

I bring my other hand up with great difficulty and try to wipe away her tears. Blood from this hand mixes with the salty trails that has cut a path down her cheeks. She looks at me through misty eyes as I hold her face in my hands.

"It's ok," I hear myself murmuring, "Please stop crying. Any decent big sister in this world would have done the same thing if they loved their little sister half as much as I love you…"

She stops crying, but tears still reside behind her eyes. She brings down my bloodstained hands from her cheeks and grips one of them with both of her small, childlike hands. We remain there for the longest time while the sounds of sirens remain distant. My vision begins to blur and darken around the edges, and Arimi seems to sense all of this.

I can hear her plead with me to hold on, to not leave her because I am the only who understands her and treats her as a person. Her pleading becomes desperate as I feel my eyes begin to close. She makes thousands of promises that range from never crossing the street without looking again to giving me her favorite stuffed animal if only I would hold on until help arrived.

I can feel my own eyes well up with tears despite the fact that I've been trying so hard to set an example and remain calm. This is it. I will never be able to see my imoutou grow up… Ever… My vision continues to get darker and darker, and I can feel my breath slowing. Blinking, I try to remain focused and hold on as Arimi was begging me to do. I know I can't fight it any longer, and I ask Arimi to do one thing for me:

"Never ever give up… Never be as weak as your onee-san is and give up so easily…"

My eyes begin to close for the last time, and the image of a boy I can barely remember from long ago flashes across my mind. The last thing I can remember seeing as I blacked out was Arimi being picked up from behind by our parents and her screaming at them not to leave me behind…


My eyes open to blue skies filled with fluffy white clouds that are lazily floating by. Blinking to clear my vision, I sit up and look around to find myself in a field of grass with flowers growing in random spots. Everywhere I look, there are rolling hills and even more grass to cover the landscape.

I know that I died. You just can't dream something so horrific and saddening at the same time. Thinking back to what I'd read during my obsession with Greek mythology, I just can't help but wonder if they were right in the belief that souls of people that had been nothing more than average were allowed to wander aimlessly in what they had called the 'Field of Asphodel.'

I don't know why, but my legs are carrying me in a direction that only they seem to know of. Looking around, I can see the remnants of what used to be little shacks that had stood in this never ending field. With a glance over my shoulder, I spot a large red building with a large clock that I can vaguely remember seeing at some point in my life so long ago.

My legs bring me to an area that looks like it used to be a river. There are stone steps leading up and away from the river, and without any second thought, I start to climb up. A feeling of déjà vu washes over me as I reach the top step and come face to face with a stone frog that has its mouth wide open. A large street lined with what looks like abandoned restaurants stretches out behind the frog, and at the end of the street, a red building looms over everything like a mother hen and her baby chicks.

I gingerly make my way down the street, my eyes glancing in every direction to take in this strange scenery that seems all too familiar at the same time. As I approach the large red building, I see a bridge that runs over a deep chasm and connects the main street with the entrance area of the large red building.

Upon hearing the whistle of a train, I run towards the edge of the bridge to peer down into the chasm and see the end of a train making its way into a tunnel. The sound of footsteps approaching me across the bridge reaches my ears, and I look up from the chasm to see a young man around my age. He stops short and stares at me with a look of disbelief.

"Chihiro…?" he whispers, the look still plastered on his face.

I back away from the edge of the bridge and face him, returning his stare with one of my own. A breeze blows across the bridge, whipping his shoulder-length hair around his lean face. He's actually rather handsome… His body, although hidden under his rather old-fashioned clothes, looks lean and muscular. I hear him whisper my name one more time, and I look up to ask him how he knows who I am. Then, I see his eyes…Green eyes… Eyes that haunted my dreams and fantasies when I was several years younger…

"Haku…" I hear myself whisper as another breeze blows past us to cover his growing smile with his hair.

He crosses the distance between us in a matter of seconds, and I can feel his arms wrap around me in an embrace that radiates love of which I haven't felt in so long. The wind whips around us as the sun begins to set. The lights of the restaurants and the large red building begin to light up, and the sounds of footsteps come from within each and every one of the buildings. Neither of us notices any of this. None of it matters… Nothing else matters but this moment where I am safe and loved within his arms…



            Onee-san = big sister

            Imoutou = little sister

            Gomen ne = I'm sorry

            Honto ni, gomen ne = I'm really sorry

A/N: Well? Did you like it? It seems a bit disorganized to me, but I might go back and rewrite it one day. It was just an idea that I had floating around my head, and I needed to get it out before I finished my next installment to "Part of Me." It was interfering with my other thoughts. Hopefully, I can get Chapter 4 of PoM out before July 2nd as I am leaving for Oklahoma and will have no computer access for a month…. o_O Please R&R and pray for my sanity…