Shaman King Fan Fiction ❯ Smell the Color 9 ❯ Smell the Color 9 ( Chapter 1 )

Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei, not me.

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Yoh smiled happily to himself. It was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the grass looked so green and cool. He loved days like this.

He just wished he had someone to share it with.

Sometimes he thought about it. Asking her. He had millions of different ideas in his head.

Hey, Anna, wanna go stargaze with me?

Hey, Anna, wanna walk with me?

Hey, Anna…

Hey, Anna…

He could face down any dastardly villain, but somehow he lost all willpower when faced with those huge dark eyes of hers.

Yoh sighed, lost in his thoughts, but he caught the sound of his name. He turned down the music on his headphones.

“Yoh-san's walking home alone again.” It was Tamao.

“What, you want to go follow him?” That would be HoroHoro.

“No,” Tamao sighed. “I've given up on Yoh. He loves Anna. And Anna loves him.” She giggled softly. “Besides, why should I go chasing him, when I have you?” There was a murmur from HoroHoro, and then a soft sound. They were kissing.

Yoh's mind raced. Anna loves me? When did this happen?

He knew very well the moment he fell in love with Anna. They were eleven years old. It was Christmastime. The entire Asakura clan had gathered at Izumo. And there was Anna, darling little Anna in a worn-out, too-big velvet dress with a ridiculous lace collar and worn patches on the elbows. She sat alone in the far corner, glaring at everyone while she tucked her scuffed shoes under the chair. But when no one was looking, she would twirl her hair ribbon around her finger, staring at the huge group of Asakuras with the same look a lamb gives a stranger. Anna looked so shy that Yoh couldn't help it. He tugged up a chair and sat beside her.

They didn't say anything. She didn't even look at him. But somehow, by the time they were sent off to bed, Yoh's hand had taken hold of her tiny one.

He knew, without a doubt, that he loved her.

But she still had never said a word.

Yoh quickened his pace. The gorgeous sky was beginning to darken.

 

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I would take no for an answer

Just to know I heard you speak

And I'm wonderin' why I've never

Seen the signs they claim to see

Are the special revelations

Meant for everybody but me?

Maybe I don't truly know you

Or maybe I just simply believe

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By the time he reached home, the sky was a weird pewter color. Funny how that happens, Yoh thought. You think everything's okay, and then bam!

He shook his head. This was making him get all philosophical.

Yoh meandered through the house. It was cold. “Who's been messing with the thermostat?” he mumbled to himself. He wandered upstairs.

The thermostat was right outside Anna's door…which for once was ajar. Yoh- with the attention span of a rabbit- wandered into the sacred territory of Anna's Bedroom.

Surprisingly, it was a mess. He'd always thought Anna to be a neat freak, the way she made him clean the house constantly.

Wait. It didn't seem like a normal mess. Not the teenage-girl-who-dumps-everything-on-the-floor mess. More like someone picked up everything and threw it at the wall.

Yoh wandered around Anna's room, slightly shocked. Books, magazines, papers were scattered everywhere, with a few items of clothing tossed in for good measure. Something upset Anna. Something upset her very much. He could see the wadded up comforter, the tearstains on the pillow, the now-empty box of tissues.

If she was upset, why didn't she tell him?

He knew she didn't like to ask for help. There was only one time, when they were little, that she was forced to ask for help.

They were out on an errand for Yohmei, gathering some sort of herb he needed. Anna had tripped and fallen on a gnarly old tree root. Her knees were skinned and her palms bruised. He could see that it hurt. Her huge dark eyes fairly brimmed with tears. But she didn't say a word. She only pushed herself up, careful of the sore spots on her hands, and limped after him. Anna began to tire, though, not long into the walk. Blood dripped steadily down her slim legs. Finally she could walk no longer. She stopped, leaning against a tree.

“Yoh,” she had whispered. “I- I need you to help me.”

He was too young to carry her, but Yoh managed. He supported her, his arm around her small waist, the entire way back. It made his heart beat faster just to touch her. But when they arrived back at the house, she didn't even thank him. She only shrank back and limped to her room, without a glance.

Did Anna really love him?

It couldn't be.

Yoh sighed and finally remembered to check the thermostat. It was completely broken, and the temperature outside had already dropped fairly low. It was going to be a cold night.

He rubbed his arms and went in search of a hoodie. Lightning lit the way to his room; thunder ripped across the sky.

Strike that. It was going to be a cold and stormy night.

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'Cause I can sniff, I can see

I can count up pretty high

But these faculties aren't getting me

Any closer to the sky

But my heart of faith keeps poundin'

So I know I'm doin' fine

But sometimes finding you

Is just like trying to

Smell the color nine

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Four o'clock passed, then five, then six. Still Anna didn't come home. The house was freezing. By now Yoh was schlepping around in his orange track suit, drowning his sorrows in chicken ramen. He was bored. And he was lonely.

His loneliness abruptly ended at six-thirty when he heard the front door open.

“Anna!” he called. “You're really late tonight. Dinner's just ramen; I hope that's okay.”

Yoh was answered by a sneeze.

“Anna?” He got up from the couch and headed towards the door. “You okay?”

It took him only a split second to decide that, no, Anna was not okay. She was dressed in her thin school uniform. The coat she wore over it had long since been soaked through. Her long hair looked dark as it trailed across her white face. Anna was shivering violently, gripping her blue arms in an effort to keep some vestige of body heat.

“I'm f-fine,” she somehow managed to lie. “I'm going to…going to…go lie down in my room for a while…”

“You're going to lie down, all right,” Yoh said. “But it'll have to be down here. The heat's broken.”

Anna moaned. Her immense eyes were ringed with bluish-black circles. “But…but I want…to go to my room. I want…to be…alone,” she mumbled. “I'll…be fine. I…p-promise.”

“You can't, Anna,” Yoh said. “You'll get sicker if you go up there in the cold. Stay here. I'm going to get you some dry clothes.”

It felt odd to take charge. Usually she was the one barking orders. But Anna looked so sick. A sharp pang shot through him. She looked horrible.

Yoh went back to Anna's room for the second time that day and looked through her clothes. There was absolutely nothing to dress her in. There were no warm pajamas, no loose and comfy sport pants and hoodies. Just a weatherbeaten black dress and a faded kimono. More than a little disturbed, Yoh went into the room Tamao had used. As he thought, she'd left some of her clothes behind. Tamao was a little younger and a little shorter than Anna, true, but the clothes that fit curvy Tamao would surely fit bone-thin Anna.

“Here,” he said, handing Anna the clothes. “Put these on. I'll take care of your wet things.”

“I c-can't,” Anna shivered. “I-”

“Anna, just do it,” Yoh said. “It'll be fine. If Tamao gets mad, I'll take care of it.” He shooed Anna into one of the adjoining rooms. While she was gone, he went into the living room and built up a fire. There were plenty of blankets and pillows to form a comfortable bed for Anna to sleep in. Yoh just hoped she'd be all right.

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Now I've never felt your presence

But I know you're always near

And I've never heard you calling

But somehow you've led me right here

So I'm not looking for burning bushes

Or some divine graffiti to appear

I'm just begging you for some wisdom

And believing you're putting some here

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Anna reappeared, dressed in Tamao's clothes. Woodenly she handed Yoh her wet coat and uniform. “Go ahead and lie down,” he said. “I'll take care of these and bring you something to eat.”

Yoh hung Anna's tiny skirt and blouse over the kitchen sink. The coat would be another matter- at least he thought. He assumed her coat would be thick and heavy, but it wasn't. It was nearly as thin as her uniform top. Yoh studied the tag. Cairman? I thought that brand went out of business years ago…He examined the coat more thoroughly. Then he found it- the incriminating little tag. Fighting the anger building inside of him, Yoh went back into the living room.

Anna was curled up on the heap of blankets. “Where did you get this coat?” he asked, striving to keep his voice calm.

She traced her finger along a seam. “Some department store,” she said. “I can't remember.”

“When? When did you get it?”

“Oh…a year or two ago,” she mumbled.

“How about a thrift store?” Yoh said. “How does that sound to you?” Anna buried her face in a pillow. “You didn't buy this coat at a nice department store. You picked it up at some thrift store. Which one, Anna? Tell me.”

“The one down on Murakami,” she whispered.

Yoh closed his eyes. Murakami Street. It was known for being a disreputable place. More than a few gang fights in the news had taken place there. “How long ago, Anna? How long have you been wearing this rag?”

“Three years,” she whispered.

Now the anger was mounting, mostly at himself. Anna bought him nice clothes, expensive clothes, while she traipsed around in a paper-thin coat and worn-out dresses. “Anna, how could you?” Yoh asked. “You can buy nice things. My parents send plenty of money for us to have good clothes, and you don't spend anything on yourself. Why, Anna?”

“I don't know!” Anna burst out. “I don't know, just stop yelling at me! Stop yelling at me!” She buried her face in a pillow.

“I'm not yelling!” Yoh said. Her slender shoulders trembled as she sobbed silently. “I'm not yelling,” he said again, more quietly this time. “I'll just get you some soup, okay?”

“I'm not hungry,” she said.

Yoh sighed. “I'll just bring you something anyway, And here, put this in your mouth.” He handed her a thermometer. Anna took it wordlessly. Yoh left, ladled some ramen into a bowl, and handed it to her. He took out the thermometer. “You have a fever, Anna. 102.8.”

Anna languidly stirred the noodles with a chopstick. “I can't swallow,” she whispered. “My throat hurts.”

Yoh touched her forehead gently. “I'm sorry you're sick,” he whispered. “I'll get you some medicine, and then you can go ahead and sleep.” She nodded.

The cold medicine was the chewable kind. He knew from experience that Anna didn't swallow pills well. One time she had had a bad sick headache, and Keiko tried to give her a normal pill. That had been a bad time. He hoped she would realize that he remembered.

However, Anna was too sick to notice much of anything when he handed her the grape-flavored tablets. Yoh took her ramen bowl, noticing that she'd managed to choke down about a fourth of it. “Good night, Anna,” he said. “I hope you feel better in the morning.” She slid deeper into the covers, pulling the blankets over her ears.

Yoh stayed beside her for a long time, watching her pale face as she slept. Sometimes he dared to stroke her silky blonde hair. It felt like warm satin, just like he thought it would. Sometimes he dared to touch her soft cheek. She was a porcelain doll, pale and fragile and as delicate as a wildflower. She was an angel, sweet and pristine and as gentle as a feather. Yoh watched the sleeping girl for hours, memorizing the sweet curve of her cheek, the loose curls of her hair, the dark slash of her silky eyelashes.

Then the eyelashes fluttered open.

“Yoh?” Anna rasped. “Why aren't you sleeping?”

“I wanted to make sure you're okay,” he whispered. “Do you feel better?”

“I'm…a little dizzy, I think,” Anna murmured. “Go to bed, Yoh.”

“Anna?” he ventured. “Would you like me to sleep with you tonight?”

She smiled drowsily in response.

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'Cause I can sniff, I can see

I can count up pretty high

But these faculties aren't getting me

Any closer to the sky

But my heart of faith keeps poundin'

So I know I'm doin' fine

But sometimes finding you

Is just like trying to

Smell the color nine

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Yoh snuggled under the blankets, away from the cold night air and close to her. “You warm enough?” he whispered.

“Mm, fine,” Anna mumbled. She was already half asleep again. Yoh tucked the blankets around her slender shoulders. He rested his chin on his elbow and began to watch her again. More analogies kept popping into his head like evil bunnies- an angel, a fairy, a princess, a...

What the heck? he thought, distracted. I went from philosopher to poet. But he kept watching her. One slim arm was free of the blankets. Yoh took her tiny hand in his big one. His rough fingers smoothed over the silky skin of her wrist, brushing against the glass beads of her ever-present bracelet.

“Do you remember?”

Yoh started. Anna was awake and smiling sleepily at him. “Do you remember, Yoh?” she repeated. She ran a shaky finger along the bracelet. “I was twelve when Kino gave me my rosary. And I was so proud of them. They were the first nice things I ever owned. And then...then you asked me if I got them at a dime store. I was so angry I slapped you. And then I cried. But you saw me, and you felt bad. So you bought me these, to go with my rosary.” She smiled angelically at him. “That's when...when I knew I loved you.”

Yoh smiled back at her. “I remember,” he whispered. “I will always remember.”

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Smell the color nine?

But nine's not a color

And even if it were you can't smell a color

That's my point exactly

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For author's notes and commentary, visit my homepage and click the link marked Fanfiction.

“Smell the Color 9” from Chris Rice's album “Short Term Memories.”