Disclaimer: Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei, not me.

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You are my sweetest downfall

I loved you first

I loved you first

Between the sheets of paper lies my truth

I have to go

I have to go

--"Samson" by Regina Spektor

He knew where to find her.

The final bell shrilled. The hallways overflowed with noisy, cheerful students, all of them happy to leave school and head home for the weekend. He shouldered his bookbag and climbed the stairs instead. The others clattered past him, shouting to their friends, chatting on their cellphones, rummaging through their backpacks for the homework they would have to do over the weekend. He walked past them, dodging elbows as he made his way upstream.

The noise faded away as he reached the top floor of the school. The hall was cool and quiet; it was soothing after a long day of classes. And he could hear it the closer he approached.

No one ever went into the third music room. There was already a state-of-the-art studio for the orchestra in the newer part of the school, and not enough students took private lessons to use all three of the music rooms. But he knew she liked it there- the solitude, the quiet, the peace.

He could hear her by now. The baby grand piano was old- some alumnus's donation years ago- but it still sounded bright. And she sang along, too. He knew her voice by heart, the voice that she never used at home. Clear but bluesy, sweet but raspy.

He pushed the door open carefully. The room stood mostly empty- a few discarded instruments, empty music racks, the glossy piano. She sat up straight with her back to him, the pale winter sunlight shining on her hair through the wall of plate glass windows. Her slender fingers struck the keys with quiet, intense energy while her voice soared, echoing in the high-ceilinged room.

He set his bookbag on the floor and closed the door behind him. She didn't notice him, or perhaps she just chose not to pay any attention to him. He approached her slowly.

Her voice died away, but she continued to play the soft, piercing melody. He stood behind her. "I thought you would be here," he said.

She nodded.

"You didn't schedule anything for me today," he said.

She didn't look up. "You don't need it," she said as she leaned into the keys and touched her slender foot to the pedals. "You're leaving soon. You need rest more than training."

He said nothing, but he stood close enough that her soft long hair brushed against his arm. "Thanks."

She stared straight ahead as she played, but the sheet music rack stood empty. "If I've done my job right," she said, "the training I've given you will carry you through."

He sat down beside her on the bench. She ignored him. Instead, she held her chin stubbornly high, her amber-brown eyes shining. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

She struck the keys, ringing out the bright music. "Yohmei wants Tamao and I to come home to Izumo," she said. "Our train leaves a few hours after you…" Her voice trailed off.

"I wish you could come with us," he said. He scratched the back of his neck. "It won't be the same without-"

"Without my training and nagging?" she said quietly.

He watched her slender fingers as they moved up and down the keyboard. "It won't be the same without you," he said.

She kept playing, but she bit her lip lightly.

He studied her. She looked like any other schoolgirl in her long sleeved white blouse and her green skirt. Yet there was a pride shining in her eyes that seemed too old for her.

She was always proud- proud and implacable. His friends often ribbed him about his upcoming marriage to the "ice queen." Nothing seemed to move her.

He knew better.

It had been nearly five years, but he still remembered his grandmother's parting words when he left Aomori after New Year's.

"That girl closes off her sensitivity, never letting tears blur her eyes."

He remembered when he allowed Tokageroh to take over his body. She had fallen to her knees, tears smarting in her eyes, lost for words. Lost in his possession, he was powerless to stop it, but he couldn't help but relish the fact that despite her acidic attitude, he held enough sway over her soul to bring her to tears.

"But the truth is that she is more nervous and cowardly than most."

He remembered staring into her face after the battle with Faust. His broken ribs throbbed unmercifully; he could feel blood leaking through his makeshift tourniquet with every ragged breath he took. And she had knelt beside him, her cool slender hands pressing against his side to halt the bleeding. Rain soaked her golden hair, turning it dull and dark, and dripped onto his cheek. All the while she avoided his gaze, but he watched the terror glowing in her eyes, and he felt the trembling of her fingers. If he had had the strength he would have gripped her hand, but all he could do was close his eyes and think, praying that she held enough of her gift still to understand the words he couldn't say.

"All of that comes from a true knowledge of fear."

He remembered fighting for her life in the snows of Mount Osore. At the age of ten, he was ill-prepared for neither combat nor comforting girls, but there was something about her that harrowed up his soul. She stood ankle-deep in snow, unaware of the blue tinge that crept up her thin legs, her eyes blank and dazed, her little white dress stained in crimson blood. And when the oni vanished at long last, she had fallen hard, scraping her knees on the hard frozen ground beneath the snow. He knelt beside her, resting his dark head against her blonde one, and breathed, the air coming hard and heavy between their two lungs as the danger passed by them.

"She can be a bit of a pain, but when you do meet her, please take care of her."

He sat in silence, enveloped by her music and lost in his thoughts as he studied the curve of her cheek.

Who will take care of her now?

She wasn't some shrinking violet. He knew that she was more than capable than caring for herself. Especially if she was with Tamao. She would throw all of her energy into guarding the shy younger girl. It was easier for her to push aside her own weaknesses if she could protect someone else.

Yet she would be alone.

He knew she relied on him. He knew that her agreement to their marriage was not merely for mercenary purpose. He was the only one who had any clue as to the secrets she hid.

Sure, she could be icy. She could be strict. She could even be cruel. But he knew that underneath, she was just…Anna.

There was no way he could ever replace her. She was clever and feisty and stubborn, and he knew, deep down, that he held a claim on her soul that she had embraced with all the fierce intensity in her body, and no one could separate it.

"Why are you staring at me?" she half-whispered.

He watched her play. "Because I love you," he said simply.

The melody continued, unhindered, as she took his words in stride. She didn't smile or blush. "I know," she said quietly. She touched the last few chords and drew her hands away.

He reached past her and picked up where she left off, changing to a song that he had heard her sing when she though no one was paying any attention. But he had. He played it lightly, easily, slouching over the keys.

She didn't smile, but she began to sing along, filling the room with her brilliant voice. He played to accommodate her range; she sang to match his rhythm.

And for a moment, they pushed away thoughts of fighting, of death, of impending loneliness, and they lost themselves in each other.

I never loved nobody fully

Always one foot on the ground

And by protecting my heart truly

I got lost in the sound

I hear in my mind all of these voices

I hear in my mind all of these words

I hear in my mind all of this music

And it breaks my heart.

--"Fidelity" by Regina Spektor

Author's Notes:

ear sweet merciful goodness, someone give me an idea for a funny story stat, because everything I've written lately has been sap-tastic.

Also, everything has been inspired by songs. I heartily encourage you to check out the songs "Samson" and "Fidelity," both by Regina Spektor, because they were totally my soundtrack for this story. I also referenced a song by one of my favorite singers, Florence + the Machine, but I doubt anyone can find it. (If you do, I'll write you a request oneshot, because there needs to be more Florence fans in this world and you deserve to be rewarded.)

I also pieced it together after writing my first chapter for my drabble series, "You're Awful (I Love You)." I wrote about Anna teaching Yoh to play the piano when she first starts going to school with him, and so this is sort of a bookend to that story. This is their last day at school before Yoh leaves for the shaman fight, and it seemed fitting that he would play.

Also, I think Anna would enjoy Regina Spektor's music. Do you know what's awful? I actually hear songs and think "man, such-and-such fictional character would love this." Like HoroHoro would love Bowling for Soup...Ren would like the Killers and Coldplay...Yoh would like Train and Jason Mraz. Imma dork.

Yoh's remembrance of what Kino told him about Anna is from chapter 177.

There was something else I was going to say, but I forgot.

Oh, well. I hope you liked this! Let me know what you think! And please...constructive criticism is the best thing you can give an author. If you have any for me, I'd love to hear it!