Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King. I wish I could have Yoh's headphones, though...÷wistful look÷

Equilibrium

by Alena S. Anigor


He would wake up in the morning, stretching lazily under the covers, with his eyes still closed and his mind still clouded with sleep. He hadrealized that waking up in the morning was somehow the hardest thing to do; especially when the winter would come and wrap the city, the streets and the house with a white blanket. Then, he would like to snuggle deeper under the covers so much, but the demanding voice of his fiancé, her slender figure at the doorway and deep, ebony eyes, flashing at him, would manage to wake him in an instant. He realized she just had that kind of effect on people.

But he loved her anyway.

He would make his bed and clean his room and then proceed to the kitchen to make breakfast for them. Over the years, he had managed to learn how to make a decent meal without her complaining, bitching and telling him how his food was totally inedible. He had managed to create a perfect recipe to please her and she stopped reprimanding him over the table, eating her meal in silence, slowly and carefully chewing the food. He would watch her sometimes, wondering if he would ever receive a compliment from her, but her silence and the lack of insults was enough to make him feel satisfied and proud of himself.

She would leave the kitchen and go to the other room to spend her time watching TV or reading a book. She would leave him to clean up the table and wash the dishes, sometimes casting a disapproving look in his direction when a plate or a bowl would slip down his wet hands and end up in the sink with a clang.

He would smile sheepishly at her, wordlessly apologizing for the mishap. She would glare at him for a moment, then her eyes would soften for just a bit, before she would go back to what she was doing.

Her eyes were cold and expressionless sometimes, lips set into a thin, firm line, blond strands of hair soft and silky, falling freely down to touch her shoulders, almost in a contrast to her serious and often solemn face, cool voice sometimes sending fretful chills down his spine when she would yell and bark orders at him.

But he loved her for it.

He would leave her to watch her favorite soap operas and head out to train. Although he had become Shaman King, the title that enabled him respect and admiration by many, he came to the conclusion that all those unusual and often excruciating training methods she used to make him stronger had somehow created a habit that would make him run a few laps around the block, do pushups almost effortlessly and come back just in time to make lunch without breaking a sweat.

She would sometimes make lunch as well, surprising him on a few occasions when he would come back late and make her growl at him. Again, he would apologize, smiling sheepishly at her and earn a glare and a shake of her head in return. Sometimes even a swift smack with a spatula that had become a powerful weapon in her hands.

The usually quiet and peaceful atmosphere in the house would change dramatically when his friends would come to visit them, brining in the sounds of laughter and making her frown.

She wasn't too fond of his friends, he knew that, but she respected the ice shaman and his sister, Ren and Jun who would occasionally stop by as well. Manta was, perhaps, still the only one she enjoyed calling Shorty, throwing glares and making the small boy cringe and cower in fright.

Despite that, she would stay aside, watching and observing them until she would either leave or join in, usually picking out Pirika and Jun to converse with.

He would glance at her and notice the small, barely evident sparkle in her eyes while talking to the other girls, realizing after a while that she liked to have someone to talk to, no matter how much she tried to disguise and smother those emotions of loneliness and sorrow he would sometimes manage to see. They would crack through her seemingly unbreakable mask, showing him just how fragile and vulnerable she really was, trying so hard to hide what was buried deep inside. He would put a hand on her shoulder sometimes, just to show her that he was there, beside her, with her. He had hugged her once and then quickly stepped back, sensing her shoulders tense and her defenses building up again. She was strong as much as she was weak, but he would never tell her that. She was Anna, the itako – the no-nonsense girl who wasn't afraid to pummel you to death if you asked for it.

He even loved that about her.

She would go for a walk with him sometimes, strolling steadily, almost absentmindedly down the street with him, her demeanor reserved and her hands balled in fists. It was the way she worked, walked and thought – quickly, simply, with unmistakable efficiency and logic. He would bump her shoulder with his occasionally, just to see how she would react, secretly wanting to hold her hand and have her close to him. Perhaps, he would do that someday, when he would be sure she wouldn't try to break every bone in his body.

She would plop down on the cushions in front of the TV, telling him to make dinner for them. He noticed that as the time progressed, she had stopped ordering him to do things; now, she would simply tell him, remind him of this or that. He already knew what to do, how and when. It was a routine, common tasks and chores that simply needed to be done.

He would still slack off sometimes, sitting under the tree and watching the clouds roll by, his trademark headphones still on his ears and still functioning properly. She would appear behind him, with her hands resting on her hips, the brim of her black dress billowing slightly on the mild breeze and he would smile, telling her to wait for just five more minutes.

Naturally, she would narrow her eyes and open her mouth to order him to get his lazy ass off the ground and get to work. He would gaze at her with one eye open, looking at her blazing eyes and fluttering strands of blond hair around her face, noticing slowly as the time passed by how she was changing – the length of her hair, the slenderness of her waist, the young woman she was slowly becoming.

She was so beautiful.

She would yell at him, snapping him out of his stupor and he would get up, smiling at her. He couldn't do anything else, really...no matter what she did or said to him. He would always keep a smile for her. Maybe because she never smiled...

After the dinner, he would obediently wash the dishes, while she would watch the TV, sprawled over the pillows, her chin propped on her hands. He would dry the plates and bowls, put them where they belonged and then sit behind her, leaning slightly to the side just to see her face, illuminated by the blue of the TV screen.

Her eyes would be so fixated on the characters in front of her, her body still and at ease, her shoulders relaxed and her hair cascading down her back.

She was his Queen.

He would sit like that, doing nothing except watching her silently, as they would enjoy their evening in peace, sometimes slightly disturbed when Amidamaru would pop up to see his young master and make his presence known.

Maybe it was a good thing she was so merciless and ruthless towards him like that. He was lazy, almost unspeakably so, and would never become a Shaman King if there wasn't for her. She was the Discipline and the Drive he needed often to start something.

They were like Yang and Yin, total opposites that seemed to attract, although she would never dare to admit that. But they were like two sides of the coin, each on the other side, but always inseparable. Together, they were able to create perfection.

Together, they were the perfect Balance.


a/n:

My first Shaman King fic... ÷looks nervous÷

I've begun to watch the show just recently and started to like the story and the characters. Anna and Yoh caught my eye, not only for being a canon couple of the show, but also because of their different personalities. So, I decided to write a story and...well, here it is. Hopefully, they're not too out of character.

I hope you enjoyed reading this. And of course, you're free to drop me a comment, a suggestion, even a flame, as long as it's constructive.

Yeah, that's about it. ÷grins÷

-Alena-