Disclaimer: Shaman King belongs not to me, but to the author and all relevant parties. I'm just a little author who has nothing else better to do.

Summary: Kyouyama Anna was renowned for being cold and unfeeling, but reality was far more sinister than perception. As the awful truth unfolded, she faced the terrible reality of fighting psychological disorder Alexithymia.

Pairings: YohxAnna, although not blatant.

Original character: Mikisa Kouran [psychologist]

Rating: PG for depression and semi-suicidal themes.

Length: 5 chapters [at present moment]

Credits:
da*mouse [Shaman King writer] – inspiration taken from Midnight Interlude and her suggestion that I base this story on the psychological disorder Alexithymia. [Thank you, matey!]
Joshua Falkan [Pokemon writer] – idea and inspiration taken from The Omega Mutation + Osteogenesis Imperfecta
Rendezvous [from a review] – Through her review on da*mouse's Midnight Interlude: to portray Anna as 'cold' but in a seemingly different way [I hope this is different though :)]

Notes:
- First-time writer, forgive me for any discontinuity, mistakes, misconceptions of characterizations, and feel free to correct me on my mistakes. Feedback is very very appreciated.
- Since Anna's childhood is never explained or elaborated, it shall be made up by the author to follow the lines of her story. Apologies for discontinuity.
- I have done pretty thorough research on Alexithymia and is pretty confident that I didn't mispresent the concept, but so happen I did, please correct me.

*

Lost Within
Chapter 1 – The Real Truth

Alexithymia – inability to recognise emotions; unable to feel; unable to describe emotions in words; unaware of own feelings.

The psychologist raised an eyebrow at his next patient that appeared at the door of his office. A young girl, very young, at most seventeen years old. "Kyouyama Anna?" He said, picking up the file next to him.

She remained standing stoically by the door, her long blonde hair covering a part of her face. "Yes." Her tone was cool, firm.

His suspicions were confirmed when he opened the file and checked her vital statistics. Indeed, she was seventeen. "Is your mother – or your father – here with you, Kyouyama-san?"

"I don't have any parents, or at least if I have a mother and a father, they are not known to me."

He was slightly taken back by her cold and matter-of-fact voice. She sensed his surprise, and didn't like it.

"What is the matter, Mikisa-sensei? Do you find it so surprising that I am an orphan?" She said challengingly, raising eyes to meet his squarely. Dark eyes that were filled with defiance.

"Not at all, Kyouyama-san." Mikisa said smoothly. "It is just that on a regular basis, patients of your…age would be accompanied by parents."

"My age?" She said, a scornful tinge in her voice. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

"You are right, of course."

"You look pretty young yourself." She noted coolly. "How would you like it if I took one look at you and deemed you incompetent and lacking in experience?"

He smothered a laugh – he was not as young as he looked. Mikisa Kouran was twenty-seven years old, although his boyish looks could pass him for twenty-one. Exceptionally intelligent, he gained his doctorate at the age of twenty-three, and had been in practice for four years. "Point taken, fair enough."

He noted that she was still standing by the door, arms crossed. "Forgive my manners, Kyouyama-san. Please come in and take a set."

Silently, she crossed the room, and took a seat right across him, arms still folded across her chest in a hostile gesture. He cleared his throat, already sensing that his new patient was different from any he had encountered before.

"Won't you prefer the couch and sofa, where it would be more comfortable?" After all, it was where he was used to in talking and treating patients. He preferred them to be comfortable, undoubtedly, it made them easier to open up and talk about their problems. And only then he could help them.

Anna made no move. "I think I am perfectly fine here."

He didn't fight her; psychologists never fought their clients. "As you wish."

Picking up his glasses, he slipped them on and took out a clean sheet of paper, clipping it to Anna's file.

"How are you today, Kyouyama-san? And would it matter if I call you Anna?" He favored a first-name basis with his patients, it would relaxed them more if they could regard him as a friend.

She looked at him directly. "I would prefer Kyouyama-san, and I'll stick to calling you Mikisa-sensei. Let's keep things formal between us, sensei."

Such maturity for such a young age, carrying herself with dignity and elegance, with an air of haughtiness. It would interesting to know more about this young lady. 

"Very well. So why are you here today, Kyouyama-san?" he said straightforwardly, already knowing that his usual warming-up and getting-to-know-you talk would not get him far with Anna. The best he could do now was to listen to her and try to help her. Flipping a pen between his fingers, he prepared to record down her words.

This patient was not one to regard him as a friend, or anything else besides a doctor.

"I can't feel anything."

He wrote, expecting her to continue, but she stopped. Raising his eyes, he looked her. She looked straight back at him.

"And…?"

"That's all. I can't feel anything." She said simply.

She was definitely unusual. Taking of his glasses, he set aside his pen, and rested his elbows on the table. "Can you tell me more about that?" He said gently.

"I knew you would say that." She said indifferently. "But it was just that. I can't feel anything. Happiness, sadness, nothing. Not even anger. I used to be good at feeling anger…" the last sentence was spoken in a whisper, and at that moment, she looked vulnerable, looked seventeen. But the next instant, those features hardened again, and the dark eyes once again focused themselves squarely on Mikisa. "I can't put it in words, but there's something wrong with me. I'm not one about to spend my time in denial, sensei. There's something wrong with me, and I want to know what it was."

"You can't feel anything? Nothing at all?" He had to know more about her problems.

She paused for a while. "Sometimes…I felt…different. I know I shouldn't be feeling that way, and I don't know why…but it just…happens."

"Can you give me an example of that?"

"I don't know."

He decided to change the subject, launching into one that would help him understand her condition. "Can I ask about your…life? Family, friends?"

"No."

"Kyouyama-san…if you want me to help you, you have to cooperate with me on some level. I'm not asking for a life history. Just a brief sketch."

Her expression was closed as she began speaking. "I have no parents. I don't need them. I'm alone in this world, no siblings as well. I live with…" She seemed to debate with herself whether to continue, and apparently decided to as she finished the sentence. "…my fiancé, whom I have been engaged to since I was ten."

He didn't question her on the engaged question, it was after all not relevant. "And does your fiancé know of your problems? Do you talk to him about this?"

She gave a short laugh. "Him? He never had to guts to ask or question me anything, much less probe into my so-call inner soul."

"How much does your…condition bother you?"

"Enough for me to put down my pride, admit that I have a problem, hence coming to see you." She said quietly.

"It takes a lot." She added, almost tonelessly.

He nodded, making notations yet again.

Across from him, his young patient made a motion to smooth her hand, and his eyes immediately caught hold of telltale scars across her left wrist. An alarm rose in him immediately, ringing loudly and incessantly, as a particular suspicion began grow.

"I must ask, Kyouyama-san, even at the risk of offending you…" he said firmly. "About those scars on your wrist."

Anna raised her hands to her face, studying the faint scars across her left wrist. Her face bellied no emotion. "I cut myself, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I…can't remember."

"You can't remember." It was a statement, not a question.

Her eyes flashed. "Yes, I can't remember. If there are scars, it means I must have cut myself, isn't it? But I. Can't. Remember. So don't ask me why, how, when. I don't remember."

"You tried to kill yourself." He said softly, his eyes trained on hers.

"No." She answered immediately, almost too immediate. Her fingers clenched into fists. "I would never do that."

But you could…without knowledge, without conscious knowledge, or with denial.

"I must ask you to try. When did you cut yourself?"

"I…noticed these scars sometime a month ago. It should about that time."

"When did you notice it?"

"I was taking a bath, and the water was bloody." She said shortly, not wanting to elaborate.

"And your fiancé. What did he say of those scars?"

"I never told him, and he never saw them." She then added defiantly. "I didn't try to kill myself. I didn't."

He slipped on his glasses again, and began writing on Anna's file. She stood up abruptly. "I must go."

He looked at her, and then looked at the tiny clock hidden strategically on top of his computer keyboard.  Five minutes before the hour was up. "It's not yet time."

"It's almost an hour." She said. "Can you tell me what's wrong with me?"

He looked at her silently, and set down his pen. "Kyouyama-san, I need to see you again. Please make an appointment with my secretary on your way out."

"I need to know what's wrong with me." She repeated, ignoring his request.

"I will help you to understand what is wrong with you. But for me to do that, you must let me help you." He said gently.

She stood there for a while, contemplating, seemingly struggling with herself. "Fine." She said at last, rather shortly. She then turn to leave, but paused at the door. "Sensei…you do know what is wrong with me, don't you?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Rest assured, Kyouyama-san, I will help you."

"So you do know."

She then left.

Left alone, Mikisa looked over his notes again for his session with Anna, and picking up his pen, marked with almost an air of finality – Alexithymia.

~

Yoh was sitting on the steps of their house when she got home from the city – it was where she found him, swinging his legs and with a decidedly worried expression on his face.  He hopped off the steps once she pushed open the gate.

"Anna, where have you been?"

She looked at him with an odd expression before replying, curtly. "Out."

"You didn't tell me you were going out."

"Do I need to?" she said, rather snappily.

Yoh rubbed the back of his neck, a slightly fearful expression crossing his face. She hated that fearful expression. She hated the fact that she was to be with a person that was scared of her for the rest of the life.

But she was promised to him, and that was all that was.

"Ah, no…but…you would normally at least tell me you were going somewhere." He said sheepishly.

"It slipped my mind. Anyway, I was just in Tokyo for a browse." She said shortly.

There was no way I am going to tell him about my true reasons for going to Tokyo. I'll never tell him. Never. He doesn't need to know.

"Have you started dinner?"

"No…because…well…I didn't know when you were coming back, and I didn't want dinner to be cold." He explained.

Anna narrowed her eyes at him, seeing that as a way of justification for his laziness. "I'm not really impressed with that." She said coolly. "But I'll let it pass, now get dinner started. I'm hungry."

A relieved expression crossed his face. "Yes, Anna!" Turning to go, he ran for the door before stopping for a moment, and turning back to her.

"Ano…Anna. Are you sure you are all right?" he asked hesitantly.

"Why?"

"Because…you don't seem all right…" he said cautiously.

"I'm all right!" She snapped, her right wrist automatically moving to cover her left wrist.

As Yoh moved into the house, she followed him, and stopped for a moment just outside the door, looking at the clear evening skies.

Everything seemed so normal, so in place.

But Kyouyama Anna never felt as lost and as confused as she did on that particular moment.

~

Chapter 1 completed by ryune, November 10th.