Do not read this expecting anything but simplicity; do not read this with thousands of questions and doubts in your mind. If you think deeper and further than you should, then you will not understand this story, nor will you enjoy it.

The Song

As the Shaman King, there was nothing Asakura Hao did not know. He knew when someone cried; he knew when someone, somewhere, was suffering. He knew when people prayed for a better life; he could hear them, even when the words were not spoken aloud.

Therefore this almighty being wasn't surprised when, on one peaceful night, he heard a beautiful song. It contained no words, but the melody was soft and lilting, and the voice that sung it pleasant and soothing. The brunette chose to close his eyes, and allowed his entire being to be immersed by the foreign tune.

Almost immediately, he understood – who she was, where she lived, and what she wanted – he knew, just by listening.

Really, Hao thought as he bit back a chuckle, he had honestly believed that only his foolish twin and his band of merrymakers cherished this kind of ambition. The plea for power to change the world came aplenty after he had became Shaman King; Hao had heard them all, and had watched those tiny humans struggle, but few, if any at all, stood up again to fight after they had fallen.

He had shook his head, and sighed at their naïveté and their weak, wavering wills; the price for power is indeed a hefty sum, and these foolish humans had belittled it, and became overwhelmed by it.

The only people he had seen relentlessly trying were those whom he had met in the Shaman Fight, those who had once been his comrades who had fought believing in him, and those who had been his enemies, who had tried to bring him down for his evil deeds.

And then, there was this human girl.

A girl who couldn't talk, a girl whose life would end in less than three days. He could feel the call of her soul; after all, everything that exists starts and ends with the Great Spirit, and he was one with the Great Spirit.

And yet she was still praying, he mused, his gaze softening considerably as he looked up at the pale orb hanging in the sky, amidst its twinkling companions, praying despite knowing that there was nothing more she could do but quietly await her death.

The old him would have scorned this kind of persistence. But he was no longer the same as he had been seven years ago. As Shaman King, he wouldn't, couldn't, scorn this girl.

Not when she sang so earnestly from the bottom of her heart.

Tearing his gaze from the midnight sky, Hao stood up from the thick tree branch he was perched on, and turned away from the graveyard scenery to face the city, where she lived.

He didn't particularly like the bustle of the streets, or the offending bright lights that littered every nook and cranny of Tokyo, and would usually stay clear unless he was headed for the Funbari Onsen, but tonight, it wouldn't hurt to pass through the busy city to visit someone who didn't have much time left.

It also wouldn't hurt to make sure that when she really had to go, she would return to the Great Spirit, to him, without regrets.

What would the world look like from Hao's perspective now that he is Shaman King? What is Hao like, and how do I portray him as Shaman King? Just thinking about all these makes me so eager to write something, and that is why this fanfiction came into existence.

Truth be told, I haven't even given the girl a name. I have no clue how she's going to be like, and I have written her without the usual worry about whether or not she's a Mary-Sue.

This is my take on Hao seven years after the Shaman Fight, my take on this OC at its most honest stage. No pre-planning, no rephrasing of any sentence; just spell check.

Enjoy and hang around for the next chapter, or hate it and scream for death of this fanfiction if you must.