Special thanks to zaza98able, , animewitch17, yehey, and HPCS2 for their kind reviews!
Disclaimer: Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei, not me.
Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before the takeover
The sweeping insensitivity of this still life
Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines
All those years
They were here first.
--"Hide and Seek" by Imogene Heap
March 30, 1988
Takashi bolted upright. "Who's screaming?" he mumbled.
"I don't know," Julia murmured sleepily. She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.
Takashi shook her shoulder. "I think it's Anhura," he said.
Julia groaned. "You go check on her," she said.
Grumbling under his breath, Takashi rolled out of bed and padded down the hall to the nursery. The scream grew louder, and he could hear Ayame and Haru protesting. He pushed the door open.
Anhura sat up in her little bed, curled up in the corner, screaming at the top of her lungs. "Be quiet," Takashi scolded. "It's just a nightmare."
He sat down on the edge of the bed. His little daughter hurtled towards him, her short nightgown clinging to her legs, and she flung her arms around him. "Scary," she sobbed.
"What's scary?" he asked. "Haru, what happened?"
The six-year-old boy rubbed his eyes drowsily. "The nightlight went out and she got scared," he shrugged.
Takashi hugged the trembling toddler. "It's just the dark, Anhura, there's no need to be frightened," he said.
"I saw something," she whimpered. "In the corner."
Takashi glanced over his shoulder. "I don't see anything," he shrugged.
"I heard something," Ayame called helpfully from her bed. "Something rumbly."
Takashi sighed. "Just go back to sleep," he said.
"Too dark!" Anhura cried.
"If I turn on the nightlight again, will you go back to sleep?" he said. Anhura nodded. He tucked her back into bed, flicked the nightlight back on, and closed the door.
Julia was still awake when he got back to their bedroom. "Was she all right?" she asked sleepily. "I thought she was coming down with a stomach bug earlier today."
"She's always sick," Takashi grumbled.
"She's little. Little kids are always getting sick," Julia shrugged. "So what was wrong?"
"The nightlight went out and it scared her," Takashi said. "What child screams like that when the only thing that happened was a nightlight going out?"
"A child who's afraid of the dark," Julia pointed out dryly.
Takashi sat down on the edge of the bed. "Something's not right with her," he said.
"What do you mean?" Julia said. She sat up. "She's perfectly normal."
"She's nothing like her cousins," Takashi mused. "She doesn't play with them, or laugh like a normal child should."
"Just because she doesn't run around shrieking doesn't mean she's strange," Julia said sharply. "Anna is a sweet, pretty, well-behaved little girl. You ought to be proud to call her your child."
"I'm not ashamed of her," Takashi said. "Don't put words in my mouth. I'm only saying that she's…there's something that doesn't seem quite right about her. Maybe we ought to take her to a specialist."
"Takashi, she's not even three yet," Julia said. She laid down again and pulled the blankets over her shoulders. "You shouldn't worry about her."
"I guess you're right," Takashi said reluctantly.
The bed shift as he laid down beside her, but Julia stared into the darkness. The secret she hid burned in her thoughts.
July 22, 1988
"I don't want to go," Kito said defiantly.
"Now, Kito," his mother Suzume said patiently. "It's Anhura's birthday. When it was your birthday she came along to the skating rink with everyone else. You should do the same."
Julia bounced her now three-year-old daughter on her hip. "Anna, walk like a big girl," she chided.
Anhura shook her head and clung stubbornly to her mother's neck. She wore a pretty lavender party frock- one of her birthday presents- and a ribbon in her hair. Julia took a secret, fiendish delight in the fact that her daughter was prettier and more delicate than her cousins, and now that she could use the family's budget there was enough money to dress her nicely.
"I'll get the movie tickets, if you watch the kids," Suzume offered.
"Sure," Julia said, setting Anhura down on the ground. "Stay with me."
Besani flopped down on a bench. "Whatever," she sighed. "Just don't boss me around."
Julia bit back the reply she wanted to give and smoothed Anhura's hair. The little girl stood close to her, her tiny hand clutching her skirt. "Stand up straight," she whispered. "You're three now. You're a big girl."
Ayame pulled Anhura's long golden hair. "How come she gets a new dress?" she whined.
"Don't do that," Suzume scolded, tugging her away. "Let's go, kids. The movie will start soon."
The Souma children made a rather sizeable gift as they trooped through the movie theater. Anhura trailed behind. Julia paused impatiently. "What's wrong?" she asked.
The child had gone completely white. She looked around at the crowded theater, the color of her wild eyes shifting from chocolate brown to golden amber. "Mama," she said, stumbling to a salt.
Julia picked her up. "You're going to make us late," she scolded.
Anhura slumped in her arms, her head falling like a lead weight on her mother's shoulder. "I can hear them, Mama," she said. "Everybody. I can hear everybody."
Julia covered her daughter's mouth. "Hush," she said severely. "Stop being silly."
Anhura began to cry soundlessly, the tears dripping down her cheeks. She continued to stare at the passers-by, her eyes rolling wildly. "Julia, is she all right?" Suzume said, not unkindly.
"She's just fussing," Julia lied. "She might be coming down with something."
Suzume stroked Anhura's hair out of her eyes; the child flinched as her aunt touched her. "Takashi said that she's not well," she whispered, out of earshot of the sharp-eyed cousins. "He says he wants to take her to a specialist."
Julia's cheeks burned in mortification. "My husband should keep his mouth shut," she hissed quietly. She brushed past her sister-in-law and took a seat in the darkened theater, settling her daughter on her lap.
Anhura continued to cry. At her wit's end, Julia pinched the soft skin of her daughter's upper arm. "Stop crying," she ordered. "Stop crying right now, Anhura."
For a moment she halted, her large eyes luminous in the flickering light of the movie screen. Tears froze, glistening, on her lashes. Remorse sank into Julia. She hugged her daughter to her chest, smoothing her blonde hair and kissing her soft cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered. "Mama didn't mean it, darling."
She held Anhura tightly, muffling her sobs against her shoulder. "I can hear them," Anhura sobbed. "Mama, make them stop."
Julia, helpless, could only hold her child close and wonder for the umpteenth time why she couldn't have a normal daughter.
September 7, 1988
"I hate this," Julia whispered.
Takashi turned the page of his business journal. "I know," he said absently. "But I'm glad you gave in. It's about time that we let a doctor deal with her."
"What do you think might be wrong with her?" Julia worried.
Takashi shrugged. "Schizophrenia, maybe?" he suggested. "Bipolar disorder?"
"Don't say things like that," Julia snapped. She fidgeted with the straps of her purse. "She's been in there for an hour. Do you think they'll be done with her soon?"
"Who knows?" Takashi said. He checked his watch. "I need to get back to the office shortly, though. Can you finish the paperwork and take her home yourself?"
"I can, but I won't," she retorted. "She's your daughter, too, Takashi. And you're the one that kept insisting to take her to a doctor."
"I know, I know," he said. "Fine. I'll stay another half hour, and then I'm leaving."
"It's better than nothing," Julia muttered under her breath in French. Takashi ignored her.
The waiting office was quiet, but she almost missed the crying and sniffling of the pediatrician's. That would mean that Anhura simply had a cold or needed a checkup. The cool grey sterilization of the grown-up doctor's waiting room felt unearthly in comparison.
The door swung open quietly. A tall man with iron grey hair and a white labcoat entered the waiting room. "Mr. and Mrs. Souma?" he said.
"Yes?" Julia said quickly, rising to her feet.
"What's wrong with our daughter?" Takashi asked.
The doctor adjusted his glasses. "Ostensibly, nothing," he said. "Anhura is on the small side for her age and a bit susceptible to illness, but mentally I can find nothing wrong with her."
"Nothing?" Takashi said skeptically.
"She's very intelligent for her age," the doctor said. "She has a large vocabulary and speaks well. Mentally, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her."
"Thank God," Julia murmured.
"Emotionally, however," the doctor continued. "Despite her age, Anhura is already exhibiting signs of depression."
"That's unusual," Takashi commented.
"But she's just a baby," Julia exclaimed.
"Depression affects all ages," the doctor said. "You mentioned in the preliminary interviews about your daughter's moodiness, her loss of appetite, and her inability to sleep. Those are all symptoms."
Julia covered her mouth. "What should we do?" she asked.
"Anhura is too young for medication," the doctor said, ruffling through the pages on his clipboard. "I recommend entering her in professional counseling. Perhaps even a children's group. I've provided a list of excellent child psychologists that may be able to help your daughter."
Julia stood by wordlessly as Takashi accepted the paperwork. The door swung open again; a nurse entered, holding Anhura by the hand. The little girl was pale, and the fluorescent lights overhead highlighted the dark circles that ringed her large brown eyes.
Takashi glanced up and handed the paperwork to his wife. "Come here, Anhura-chan," he said, more gently than usual. She approached him slowly. He lifted her carefully. "We'll get back to you about the counseling sessions, doctor."
Julia clutched the paperwork as she followed her husband out of the office. Anhura balanced her chin on her father's broad shoulder, her dark eyes even more solemn and far away than usual. They walked to the car in silence.
Takashi set Anhura in her booster seat and attempted to buckle it. "Let me, let me," Julia said, nudging him out of the way. Takashi shrugged and took his seat behind the wheel.
Julia bent her golden head over her daughter's as she fumbled with the straps. "I didn't tell, Mama," Anhura whispered, exhausted. She slumped back in the seat. "I didn't tell anything."
"Good girl," Julia half-heartedly whispered back. She dropped a light kiss on Anhura's forehead, shut the door, and sat down in the passenger seat.
Takashi drove away; the midafternoon traffic idled away the minutes. Julia watched her daughter via the rear view mirror.
Maybe it would be better if she had told the doctor, she thought. Maybe then we wouldn't have to worry about this anymore. It'll be someone else's problem.
Julia noticed Anhura gazing at the mirror. Her clear golden brown eyes fogged and she stared off into space, dazed. Julia turned away.
December 25, 1988
Remnants of wrapping paper and curled ribbons peppered the floor like brightly colored shrapnel. The Souma children shrieked with laughter and squabbled amongst themselves as they played with their new toys. Julia curled up under the kotatsu with a new book, tuning out the uproar.
The other adults sat on the couches, sipping cups of tea. "It was a good Christmas," Lin said in approval.
"The children seem happy, and that's all that really matters," Atsuko said. "Christmas is a holiday for the young."
Julia ignored her mother-in-law. She disagreed, but she knew better than to say anything. Instead, she turned a page in her book and tuned out the adults' conversation
Ayame ran over to her mother with a doll, its plastic arm dislocated and swinging grotesquely. Suzume popped back in place without scolding her. The youngest Souma ran back to her siblings and cousins. Julia glanced up from her book to see Ayame shake the doll in Anhura's face. Anhura did nothing. She watched the adults with an odd look on her face, as if they were talking about something that disgusted and horrified her, rather than a boring discussion about the company.
Julia had seen that expression on her daughter's face more and more often lately. Her bright eyes would turn sharp and diamond-brilliant, boring into the faces of family and strangers alike as if…as if she could hear their innermost thoughts. Julia stifled a shudder and turned a page fiercely.
Anhura had continued her insistence that she could hear things. Every night, when Julia tucked her into bed, she reminded her little daughter to keep her mouth shut. She could only imagine what the family would do if they knew.
The thread of conversation changed. Julia turned a page without seeing the words as she listened.
"Are you still taking Anhura to the specialist?" Suzume asked.
"Not lately," Takashi shrugged. "It didn't seem to help as much as we hoped."
Suzume clicked her tongue in sympathy. "Poor thing," she said. "Maybe she'll outgrow it."
"Maybe," said Takashi, but he didn't seem convinced.
"I hope she improves soon," Atsuko said. "She's so different from the other children. And children always pick on those who are different."
"No."
Julia glanced up. Her daughter stood up, staring at the adults, surrounding by her noisy cousins and the shrapnel of discarded wrapping paper. Anhura's golden eyes blazed, wild but focused. "No, no, no," she said emphatically, bitterly.
"Anhura?" Takashi said. "What's wrong?" He looked down at his wife. "Julia, what's wrong with her?"
Julia closed the book. "I have no idea," she said.
Anhura pointed at her grandmother. "No, I'm not," she said clearly. "I'm not crazy."
Atsuko blanched. "What's she talking about?" she demanded.
Anhura took several quick steps. "You think I'm crazy," she said.
Her squabbling cousins quieted, staring, mouths agape, at the usually reticent little girl. "Julia, quiet your daughter," Takashi said.
"She's your daughter too," Julia snapped.
"Stop it!" Anhura screamed.
"Takashi," Atsuko threatened.
Takashi got up, strode across the room, and grabbed his daughter by the forearm. "Don't speak to your grandmother like that," he said. "Stop saying nonsense."
Anhura struggled to break free of his grasp. "I know you hate me," she said in a terrible voice. "You hate me, you hate me!"
"Anhura, I'm your father," Takashi said, trying to keep his voice level. "I don't hate you."
"You blame her," Anhura said. Julia's heart stopped as her small daughter pointed right at her. "Trapped. She trapped you."
Takashi's face turned white. "Julia, I never-"
"The child is hallucinating," Atsuko said severely. "She must be ill. Julia, take your child and put her to bed."
Anhura broke free of her father's slackened grip and ran to her grandmother. "I can hear you," she said, grabbing her hands. Atsuko pulled away. "You say awful things."
Julia bolted. "Anna," she said. "Anna, be quiet. Come with Mama."
"She hears things?" Atsuko said.
"Anna," Julia whispered. "Anna, come with me."
Anhura stood in front of her grandmother. "Stop saying bad things," she said, her voice rising.
Atsuko slapped her granddaughter across the face. "She's a freak," she spat.
Julia ran to her daughter and pulled her back. "Anna, you promised," she said.
"You knew about this?" Takashi demanded.
Anhura stared at Atsuko, her eyes blazing, her face white save for the red mark on her cheek. "You're a bad person," she said.
"Takashi, restrain her," Atsuko said.
"You're a bad person," Anhura repeated, her voice rising. "I can hear you. I can hear you."
"Takashi!" Atsuko cried.
Takashi grabbed his daughter by the arm and yanked her away. Anhura began to scream- an awful, wordless, feral scream. "You promised," Julia screamed. Suzume took her by the arms, pulling her back. Julia struggled to break free. "Anna, you promised you wouldn't tell. You promised!"
Her husband carried her daughter away. Julia tore away from Suzume's grasp and wavered in the center of the room, unbalanced, as her husband's family stared at her. Anhura's scream echoed through the house; a sharp crack, and stunned silence reigned.
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Author's Notes:
Gah, this chapter was hard to write. The next one was even more difficult...how do you write about parents giving up their children? Besides, this was more a "gateway" chapter...and those are always challenging to put together. But now we're gearing up for some real story action!
I've plotted this story pretty far...meaning that I've had to reread the Shaman King manga all the way through. I got up to the 240s when I had to take a break. Why? Because Hiroyuki Takei can't do math, that's why! None of his months and weeks and days add up! So I'll do my best to keep it canon datewise, but I have to take some liberties in order to get things to line up properly.
I can't think of anything to write in this note, so let's proceed to reviewer responses, shall we?
HPCS2: I'm so glad that you've been waiting for a story like this! I hope it's everything you've dreamed of. :P
yehey: For some reason I've always cherished the thought that Anna was half French. I'm really not sure why...I think it's the blonde hair. But one of the choices I made is that the longer Julia lives with the Soumas, the less French she speaks.
Animewitch17: Oh, dear goodness, you must've read some of my older Anna stories. :P Yup, the yellow blanket appears pretty much every time I write about a baby. Why? Because my baby blanket was yellow. Also, you are totally right about the bad vibes...this chapter probably explains why!
: Yay! I'm glad you've been looking for a story like this. Here's a speedy update for you!
zaza98able: I'm glad you're interested in Anna's past too. She's just such a fascinating character. I'll try to update as much as I can...especially while my muse is still going strong!
Have a question about this story? Like where I got the name Anhura? Why the story is called "Spider Lilies"? Or where every bathroom on Disney World property is located?
(all right, so that has nothing to do with this, but I can answer it...)
Go on and ask me! I'll be happy to answer!
I hope you liked this update!
In the next chapter: a decision, and a trip to Mount Osore.