Shaman King Fan Fiction ❯ From Past to Present ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

(Disclaimer;) I don't own Shaman King, or any Shaman King characters, okay? Thank you. (You know you like these things short and sweet). (/Disclaimer)

(Authors Note;) I'm Canadian. If there happen to be words spelt oddly in here, (such as “colour” and “favourite”) that's because it's the Canadian spelling of those words. No complaints, please. Thank you.

Ah, also - normal italic font is a Shaman/Human being thinking. /Italic/ font, with the slashes, is the thoughts of a Spirit or alternate being. Thanks. (/Authors Note)

 

.x. From Past to Present; Chapter One .x.

Three, long years.

Hao glared down at his gloves, face maintaining a slightly troubled expression as he thought gravely of his pathetic defeat three painful, rehabilitation-filled years ago. He was quite sure that his scars, in and out, would never heal over completely. The Spirit of Fire had seemingly vanished, having not been seen or heard of by the Shaman since the incident. Perhaps it had been swallowed into hell at last? The cursed being that left this longing of revenge and peace boiling furiously in his veins.

“Three, long years,” he muttered aloud to himself now, standing up. He stood high upon a temple-like structure, gargoyles made by normal humans straining to escape the concrete that they were enclosed in; jaws hanging open in an ever-lasting howl.

/Master Hao. Master Asakura Hao. You are alive./

A figure loomed beside the temple, glowing with a ferocious red colour.

“Spirit. Spirit of Fire. You are dead,” Hao replied darkly, shooting a cold expression at the Spirit of Fire despite all it's enormity. Then his expression soothed into a more calmly devious one, and he beckoned the giant Spirit to him. It lowered its hand, which he jumped onto. Together they rose into the air.

“Revenge is a type of sin that I currently lust for, Spirit of Fire,” Hao said quietly to himself. A dark smile crossed his lips, and the Spirit and Shaman circled high above the temple. “Perhaps there is no immediate way that I can take in my other half again… but it will come to me. Some how, however, I doubt crossing paths in a dark alley is an option.”

/Though there are definitely options./

A rip of cold laughter tore through the air. Hao held his stomach, the dark laughter enveloping his entire being. The Spirit of Fire paused in order to watch this sudden outburst.

“Don't stop flying,” Hao said, catching his breath. “No, I agree with you completely. There are so many options, that it really shouldn't be that funny at all. Although…”

Hao trailed off, his cloak rippling around him as the sharp wind coursed past his body, and sent his long hair aloft behind him.

“Perhaps… taking the advice I previously brushed aside… would be of some use?” Hao fell silent, a slow, dark smile creeping over his lips. He laughed quietly again. “The art… of companionship. They did not say how it was to be used. Not that I'd need a friend anyway.” Hao paused to think momentarily of Opacho, who he had not seen since she ran away from him three years ago. He narrowed his eyes slightly, his devious smile gone. Then it returned in an instant, as though the frown had never been there. “Taking advantage of your lowers, though, is so easily done. Go.”

Hao vanished from the Spirit of Fire's palm, and it soared down towards the temple. It burned through the stone of the temple, releasing smaller, enclosed spirits hidden within. It's gaping jaws hung open, and the Spirit of Fire loomed forward, hungrily sucking in the retreating spirits before they could make their escape.

More cold laughter drifted over the hilltops and trees from the middle of the woods. Asakura Hao pulled his sword from its sheath, and lifted it slowly to neck-level.

“With revenge… comes power.” He grinned like a devil, and with the sword, took a swipe at his long, dark brown hair.

 

- x -

 

(Authors Note;) okay.