Special thanks to xxandlovesaidnoxx, HPCS2, yehey, Animewitch17, the terrorist, and zaz98able for reviewing!
Disclaimer: Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei, not me.
Can you see it in the night?
Can you feel that it's out there?
It's the arcing of a life
And it's hanging in the air
--"Who is This Child?" by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra
January 1, 1989
The mountain was restless.
After spending years so close to Mount Osore, she was quite receptive to the ebb and flow of the mountain's energy. And something, clearly, was wrong.
Kino strolled outside. The winter winds blew softly, but she was no stranger to the cold of Aomori. Snow filtered through the air and cloaked her hair and shoulders. She enjoyed the sensation. It had been so long since she had lost her sight that she no longer missed it; she was content with her other senses.
She walked through the drifting snow in silence. She knew the grounds of her inn inside and out, but things grew stranger as she approached the mountain. Wind whipped past the pinwheels and the paper blades clacked noisily.
The strange uneasiness deepened the farther she walked. Something was truly wrong. The spirits were unsettled. Something had disrupted them…or someone.
She heard the quiet rush of the river under its thick layer of ice. Kino walked towards the bridge, heeding the inexplicable pull towards the river's edge.
And that was when she found it.
A small blanket-wrapped bundle lay beside the bridge, barely shielded from the cold. A thick layer of snow covered it; she brushed it away and recoiled when her fingers touched soft freezing skin.
Someone had left a child there.
Kino bent over the prone little figure, holding her cheek above the child's lips. At first nothing…and then a barely discernable warm breath.
Kino leaned back. "Well, little one," she said aloud, her voice echoing in the night air. "It seems that death has passed you by."
She knew better than to look for the baby's parents. Mount Osore was closed for the winter, and it was New Year's Eve. No family would come to the banks of the river on a pleasure trip in the middle of the night. No, this was intentional. Someone had made the decision to leave the child there.
Kino caught the attention of the nearest passing spirit, pulling it into materialization as her rosary clacked. "Lady Asakura," the young woman said, surprised.
"Did you see where this child came from?" Kino asked without preamble.
"Two men were here," she replied. "They put the baby by the bridge and drove away."
Two men…the child's father?
"Be my eyes," Kino said. "What do you see?"
The spirit seemed confused, but obliged. "I see footprints," she said, "nearly filled with snow. I see the red blanket the child is wrapped in, and her yellow hair."
"Her?"
"It's a little girl, Lady Asakura."
Kino lifted the baby cautiously. The little girl slumped in her arms, limp and lifeless. But she had touched death before, and she knew there was life remaining yet.
"Lady Asakura?" The spirit hesitated. "What shall become of her?"
"I'm not sure," Kino said.
She carried the little girl down the mountainside. It was slow going; the wind tore at her clothes and took liberties with her balance. The child didn't rouse. Kino wondered if she ever would.
At long last she reached the inn. She fumbled with the lock while balancing the child in the crook of one arm and stumbled inside. Melting snow dripped down her clothes and soaked into the floor.
Her arms ached as she carried the baby to an empty room. "I'm too old for this," she muttered. She laid the child down on the futon, pulling the snow-drenched blanket away from her. The little girl's skin felt like ice under her touch. Kino pulled several thick, clean blankets down and wrapped them around her.
She survived the mountain, she reminded herself. Surely the battle is halfway through.
January 2, 1989
"You found a what?"
"A child," Kino said, pulling the phone away from her ear as her daughter's voice rose in indignation. "Two men abandoned her on the side of the mountain on New Year's Eve."
"And she's not dead?" Keiko said skeptically.
"Not yet." Kino moved to the little girl's side and touched her hot forehead. "She's still asleep."
"You ought to get her to eat something."
"I know that," Kino retorted. "I'm not entirely unschooled in the caring of children. I raised you, didn't I?"
"I know, Mother," Keiko said. "I just- hold on."
Kino heard the high-pitched voice of her grandson through the phone. He was nearly four years old now, but she hadn't seen him since his birth. She heard her daughter scold him gently, her voice soft and measured.
She turned towards the sleeping child. This little girl was most likely around her grandson's age. For a moment she imagined her son-in-law carrying Yoh up to the mountain to die, and she stifled the idea. She couldn't fathom what would bring a grown adult to leave a helpless child to die.
"Sorry about that," Keiko said. Kino turned her attention back to the phone conversation. "Has she really been asleep all this time?"
"It worries me," she admitted.
"What are you going to do with her? Send her to an orphanage?"
"I'm not sure," Kino said. "I'm not in any position to raise a child, but…"
"-but?" Keiko finished.
Kino touched the sleeping child's burning forehead. "There few adults who can escape Mount Osore unscathed," she said. "I want to know how this baby could do that."
"You think she has powers."
It was a statement, not a question. She was silent for a moment. "I don't want to hand her over to an orphanage without knowing for sure," she said reluctantly.
"And if she does?"
"It depends," Kino said. "Even if she is gifted, I doubt she has the potential to become an itako. I might send her to you, to become a miko. Or perhaps even Mikihisa can train her."
Keiko fell silent at the mention of her perpetually absent husband. "Perhaps," she said quietly. "I need to go, Mother. I'm needed at the temple."
"Of course," Kino said. She bade her goodbyes and hung up.
The sleeping child beside her moved slightly. She touched the little girl's arm, but she flinched. The girl tossed restlessly, her breathing coming faster and faster until it sounded like ragged gasps.
"Hush," Kino commanded. "Lie still, little one. Lie still."
She may have been blind, but she could still sense the feel of eyes upon her. The child was finally awake.
"My name is Kino," she said, trying to keep her voice as soft and gentle as she could manage. "I found you by the river. You've been asleep for a long time."
She stroked the little girl's hair away from her hair. The child did nothing. "What's your name?"
Kino waited for a reply. At long last, she rasped out the answer. "An…na."
"What's your surname?"
Nothing.
"How old are you?"
Still nothing.
Kino sighed and tucked the blanket around little Anna. "I'll get you something to eat," she said. "Don't try to move. You're ill."
Kino left the child's room and made her way to the kitchen. She could still feel Anna's unnerving gaze following her.
April 10, 1989
Anna sat quietly in the corner. She had found a doll in one of the rooms of the inn, left behind by some guest's child long ago, and now she clutched in her small hands. Kino shook her head. The child had been living in the old inn for several months now. She was ill for a long time after her night in the snow, but now she was better, albeit still a bit frail and weak.
She should go to an orphanage, Kino thought. This is no place to raise a child.
But there was still a nagging, lingering thought that prevented her from taking the little girl down to the prefecture asylum. There had to be something, some sort of shamanic gift that had kept her alive and safe from the spirits that would have torn an ordinary human's spirit to pieces.
But Anna refused to acknowledge anything. Time and time again she had tried to bring the child out of her shell, to test her unobtrusively. Yet nothing seemed to catch her attention, not even when she summoned spirits while the child was in the room. She just kept to herself, quiet and withdrawn, cradling the battered old doll in arms while she watched those trashy soap operas.
Kino sat down at the table and leaned her cane against the edge. "Anna," she called. "Come here, child."
The little girl stayed quiet- hesitating. Reluctantly she set the doll down and edged closer to Kino.
She did her best to keep her voice soft and gentle, so as not to spook the little girl, but it was a difficult endeavor. "Anna," she said. "I want to ask you something. And I want you to give me an honest answer. Can you do that?"
"Yes," the little girl said.
"I know that you can see ghosts like I do," Kino said. "You have a special gift."
The child said nothing. Kino took Anna's soft little hands in her cool wrinkled ones.
"I want you to tell me what you know about your gift," she said. "And I would like to test you, so that you can be trained properly."
Anna pulled her hands away. "Can't," she said.
"Why not?" Kino asked.
"I can't," she insisted, shaking her head. "I can't, I can't. I promised."
"Who?" Kino asked, perplexed. "Who did you promise?"
"I can't," the child said desperately. She broke free and fled the room, leaving the doll behind in her haste.
Kino bowed her head. The child is troubled, she thought. I'll give her time. Just a little more time.
July 22, 1989
Kino held the child by the hand as they walked through the hot, busy streets of Aomori. It was only midday, and she was exhausted. The girl had been entirely too much of a handful. She had gotten dressed and packed her few belongings without a fuss, but the closer they came to the city, the more recalcitrant the child became.
"Come along, Anna," Kino said, a bit impatiently. The little girl lagged behind her, tripping over her own shoes.
The child had been in her custody for nearly eight months. She was healthy again, although still thinner than most children her age. She was mostly obedient, stayed quiet, and stayed out of the way. Kino was still convinced that the child was gifted, but Anna refused to acknowledge it. If she refused to acknowledge it, she was untrainable. And if she was untrainable…well, there was no call for an elderly woman to raise a toddler in a remote inn. She would be better off in an orphanage, with other children her own age. Maybe someone would adopt her eventually. Heaven knows the child needed a good home.
Kino walked towards the broad front steps of the orphanage. People brushed past them…social workers, other children, even a few couples. Anna looked around her wildly, as if they were all talking to her at once and she didn't know who to answer. Her breathing came quick and heavy.
"Anna," Kino said, a little more gentle than before. "Stop that and come with me."
She pushed open the doors to the orphanage; the cool air conditioning blasted them. Anna winced as they entered the bustling lobby.
Kino dodged the crowd, still dragging Anna behind her. She approached the front desk, where a young, pretty woman sat at a computer. "Hello," the receptionist said. "How can I help you?"
Kino attempted to organize her thoughts. After all, how does one go about abandoning a child to the mercy of strangers?
"I found this little girl left on the mountain," she began at last. "In January. Someone abandoned her."
The child let go of her hand. Kino took her by the shoulder. "I've been caring for her since then, but…I'm old. I can't raise a child," she said.
The receptionist clicked her tongue sympathetically. Anna shivered under Kino's grip. "Poor dear," she said, typing away on the computer. "Well, we do have some space available in our wards. How old is she?"
"Somewhere around three or four years old," Kino said.
The lobby echoed with the milling crowd. Anna sank to the floor, leaning heavily against the desk and breaking from Kino's grip. She heard the child begin to cry softly- something she had never seen from the little girl before.
"You're in luck. We can take her," the perky girl said. She flipped through her files. "We'll just fill out this paperwork and she'll be off your hands."
Anna continued to shake. Kino placed her hand on the child's head. "Can I just have a moment?" she asked.
"Certainly," the young woman said as she shuffled through the papers.
Kino took Anna by the hand and led her to a quiet corner. The little girl stumbled beside her. She set the child on a bench and sat down beside her. "Listen to me," she said. The child shifted, her small body shaking with the force of her breathing. "Anna. You have a gift. I can help you learn how to control it. But you must be willing to be trained. I don't have a reason to keep you if you cannot acknowledge it."
Anna stopped crying, but her chest still heaved. "My…they told me I couldn't tell," she whispered. "I…I told them…and I…"
"You must tell me," Kino insisted.
"Voices," Anna whispered. "I can hear them. When I see people…I hear them. And they say bad things."
Kino's heart pounded. This child has Hao's gift, she realized. Oh, what we could do with this one…using Hao's own power against him…
"Who's Hao?" Anna rasped.
Kino shook her head. "I'll tell you at the proper time," she said.
"Can we leave?" she begged. "All the people here…I keep hearing them. They won't leave me alone." She drew in several shuddering breaths. "I just want them to leave me alone."
Kino took the child's soft, hot hand. "Come along," she said. "We'll go back to the inn, where it's quiet."
They left the orphanage, walking past the abandoned children, the exhausted social workers, the couples who had been left barren. And while Kino could only imagine the turmoil that they hid deep inside, she knew that Anna could feel it as sharply as they did. On her small shoulders she bore the weight of all their secret burdens, and for the first time Kino realized the depth of the choice she had just made.
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Author's Notes:
It's difficult to write Kino, since she's blind...but I write Toph Bei Fong a lot for Avatar stories, so I hope that that helped out a little bit...
And now we're into more familiar characters! There's going to be about four or so chapters about Anna's childhood...and then I get to start writing about when she meets Yoh! I'm so excited about writing that part. I've done some preliminary development about how I'm going to handle it...seriously, I'm so excited.
So yeah...let me know what you think of the story so far!
xxandlovesaidnoxx: I'm glad that you found the rest of the manga! I have some of the books, but I go on One Manga for my research when I'm too lazy to pick up my books. And yup...I'm going all the way up to Funbari no Uta! It'll take a while...
HPCS2: I'm glad that this story is following what you always imagined for Anna!
yehey: Yeah...I struggled with the last chapter, because I couldn't reconcile myself with the fact that her family did give her up. I guess I just made most of them heartless because it was easier. Most of her family was apathetic about her anyway, and her parents were too selfish to sacrifice their own happiness to keep their daughter. Gah. I might end up doing a bit of a rewrite on that one...
Animewitch17: I'm super excited you're hooked! I hope this chapter was a good one...
the terrorist: I guess Takashi loved Anna, since she was his daughter, but he was never an active parent to her...so...I guess the best way I can explain it is that his daughter was more of an abstract concept to him.
zaza98able: I'm glad you liked it! And yeah, I'm glad I don't have to keep her family straight anymore either!
Let me know what you think about this story! Feedback is always welcome!