Spirited Away III: A Tale of Two Worlds

Chapter 3

She always thought how funnily emotional pains manifested into physical, can't-ignore symptoms. Take regret, for example. It was a lot like an ache, really, only more intense, like maggots picking at her brain and heart where the mind and soul should be. After a session of regret, she would often retire into her room with a headache and a bottle of aspirin.

Regret, that pesky old friend, was coming back a lot lately. Even Akio started taking notice—well, of dwindling supply of aspirin in the cabinet, to be precise. Nobody besides the two of them in the house bothered with painkillers, so the culprit was self-evident. When the "phase" didn't pass, he started sending her sidelong looks that were supposed to be discrete. Dai brewed her "herbal teas" that were quite effective with headaches, but nothing could keep the regret away. Nothing.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Her husband lumbered into the room. Ah, so the "confrontation time" finally came.

"Lots on my mind," Mrs. Ogino answered. When she didn't elaborate, Mr. Ogino sat down and huffed.

"We're in this together, you know," he said. "You ought to talk with me when something's up."

"Up?" Mrs. Ogino barked a laugh. "When, husband of mine, are things not up?"

"So how is this any different?"

"It wears on you, you know? All the doubts, all the insecurities, all the second thoughts—when you have to make a lot of hard decisions, it haunts you."

"It makes you wonder if you've done the right thing."

She looked up, crashing with her husband's searching eyes. A wry smile played on the corners of his mouth. "I know. I feel regret, too."

A bit of her headache receded before the worries came hurtling down.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing, though?" Mrs. Ogino whispered.

"Of course. You heard Dai."

"Then how is it that something so right feels so wrong?"

In the ensuing pause, Mrs. Ogino learned plenty of things. For the first time, she saw her raw insecurity lurking in her husband's gaze and the defeat in his tilted head. He had regrets and second thoughts and worries, too.

She also learned she was an awful wife.

"Because we're hurting our daughter to save her," he concluded. "But we also have to take care of ourselves, you know—let's leave the kids and get some sushi downtown."

For a split second, Mrs. Ogino wanted to take her kids with her. However, seeing Chihiro—dejected, morose Chihiro—would only exasperate and worry her at the same time. Wouldn't that defeat the whole purpose of their small getaway?

"A nice break is quite overdue," she agreed. "Oh, and we might need to buy more aspirin on the way back."

Chihiro watched as her parents' gray Audi disappear around the curve of the road. Just before getting in, Mr. Ogino looked up and met his daughter's stare. Then he turned away, swung open the door, and got in—as did her mother. No air-kiss, wave, or even a smile. Hardly even a goodbye.

Backing away from the window, Chihiro swept her room with unseeing eyes. A flicker of white caught her attention, and she saw a stack of homework papers and assignments. It was only half-done and, if her motivation was of any indication, would probably stay that way. So immersed was Chihiro in her thoughts that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Dai hovering in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she snipped.

If her sharp tone affected him, Dai didn't show it. "How's schoolwork?"