Shaman King Fan Fiction ❯ Shaman King 2498 ❯ CIASOSM ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Amor
Natsume arrives at the Chinakan Imperial Association for Shamaans and Other Spirit Mediums, and finds out exactly what's going on.

Anime/Manga: Shaman King Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Supernatural / Sci-fi / Romance / Psychological / Mystery / Drama / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 04.11.2004 | Updated On: 07.03.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 364 | Status: Completed
One of the men in dark suits pulls the door open for me, and I step into the short limo nervously. Pulling my seat belt across myself quietly, I glance out the nearest window. I see nothing but shapes behind shadow, the tint on the windows working both ways. It's probably nothing, but I can't help but get the feeling that they're trying to stop me from seeing where we're going.
We start driving. At first I try to recognize the scenery we're driving by, but it's too difficult. Sighing, I lean back against the seat and think about the present turn of events. Where were they taking me, anywise? Another asylum? Some place even crazier? I shut my eyes, trying not to think about it. What else am I supposed to think about? I hope they'll at least be a viewer at wherever they're taking me. I haven't seen a prog since I got sent to the loony bin.
I try to sleep, but I'm not tired. Staring out through the window at the shapes vaguely resembling scenery is my only source of entertainment. I ask, repeatedly, where we're going, but the answers range from cryptic to non-existent. Occasionally they stop for fuel, and to change shifts on driving. I'm allowed out once to buy myself a drink.
Having nothing better to do, I keep track of the cities we pass through. Amagasaki, Maizuru, Tsuruga, Takefu... I now wish I had paid more attention in Geography class, so I could have some idea of where we were heading. I give up trying to make out names around Fukui. I lean back in my somewhat comfortable seat, wondering idly where I'm being taken.
The remainder of the several hour ride continued like that, boredom punctuated with moments of panic. There was a clock neither in the car nor in my room at the asylum, so I have no clue what time it is. However, the sky has taken on the violet tone of dusk by the time we stop.
I hear the car's driver talking to someone outside. "Here's my ID," the driver's deep voice says. A few murmurs of affirmation from whoever he was talking to later, we enter a long, dark tunnel occasionally lit by florescent globes.
I've almost fallen asleep again when the deep voice says to me "Get out, kid. We're here."
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Shaman King 2498

Chapter 2:CIASOSM

A fanfiction by Amor

Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King. Duh. The future world in which this takes place is mine, however.

This fanfiction is written PG-13: May not be suitable for children under thirteen. This chapter contains really nothing objectionable besides a little bit of swearing, but future chapters may contain graphic violence, sexuality and shounen-ai.

07/03/04 Edit--Changed a bit of the wording (mainly to remove fanboy Japanese) and the name of the organization (seeing as how Japan isn't really a nation any more.)

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It's funny how if you wait for something long enough, you become comfortable with waiting. When the thing finally happens, you almost wish you were still waiting for it. That describes my reaction as we arrive at our destination. One of the agents opens the door, and I numbly step out.
We're in some sort of garage or parking lot. There aren't many cars here. Out of place is the small, sleek black bus taking up two spots a little way away. We're underground, the roof above us supported by a concrete pillar. I glance down the nearby tunnel, which we presumably came down. I can't see any kind of light down it.
"Where...are we?" I ask. One of the agents grunts and points me towards an orange door with peeling paint. A knot building in my stomach, I open it. We're in a stairwell, a tall room made of concrete and iron. The stairwell is lit by orange fluorescent lights.
One of the men points upwards, and I shakily walk. After a couple flights, my nervousness becomes mixed with boredom. How many stairs are there in this place anyway?
Finally, one of the suited men holds up his hand, signalling me to stop. The door in front of me reads "601:Head Trainer Darui." The agent (is it the same one each time, or do they alternate?) raises his hand and knocks on the door, creating a hollow, metallic sound which echoes throughout the chamber.
The door opens, and my heart leaps into my throat. A tall man opens it. He looks to be a Native American, and has jet black hair and a pinched face. He's wearing odd clothing, a long white robe and a strange headress.
"Natsume Takenouchi?" the tall man asks. I nod wordlessly. "Come in." As I step inside, he motions the agents away. "You did your job. He's in safe hands now." Looking relieved but slightly disappointed, the two black-suited men walk away out of sight. The orange door clangs shut behind me.
I take a look at the room I stand in, curious. It appears to be made of the same utilitarian concrete as the rest of the building, but this has been painted a relaxing brownish-yellow. Spread over the floor is an Indian rug. A discshelf lies in the back of the room, but strangely enough, most of it is taken up storing the antiquated books.
My attention is drawn, however, to what lives in the room. Four animals sleep in the room, and it's one of the strangest menageries I've ever seen. A snake lies curled up in a ball off to the side, next to a monkey dozing on top of a sleeping horse. A ram slumbers ignominiously, letting off a loud snore. They all have the same strange, ghostly quality to them.
I stare, and then clutch my head. I'm still insane. "Ah, I see you've met my totem spirits," the man says from behind me. With little indication, the animals suddenly awaken, getting up and staring at the tall man. "Shoo, you. I've got a new recruit." The mismatched animals scurry off, moving through the wall.
Feeling dizzy, I sit on the rug, as there are no chairs to speak of. The tall man sits down cross-legged opposite legged. "Hello, Natsume. I know this must all be a little confusing for you." Understatement of the year. His voice is calm and soothing, however, and despite myself I relax inside. "Would you like some tea?"
"N-no thanks," I reply shakily. Since being taken away, a sense of paranoia has been descending on me. I know it's unfounded, mind you. They wouldn't bring me all the way here just to poison me.
"All right," the man replies, seeming amused. "My name is Darui. I'm the head instructor here at CIASOSM. I'm also a member of the Shaman Fight Selection Committee." I blink several times. All of the talk is going way over my head, but I nod any ways.
Darui smiles. "It's okay, I know you don't know what I'm talking about. For now, just know that I'm here to help you. Should I start from the beginning?" I nod meekly. Darui clears his throat and begins to speak.
"Since the beginning of human civilization, the spirits of those who die before they are ready are walking this earth. Like all forces of nature, man has found a way to harness them." I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the mention of ghosts, figuring that it's no more insane than what I'm going through. "I know I may be starting a little grandiose, but it's important to establish history.
"The people who have the power to harness these ghosts, in various forms, are called shamans. Although their various methods and traditions vary from region to region, they are all connected by a spiritual bond. Nobody knows where the first shamans came from, but the talent has usually been passed down through bloodlines, though shamans are born out of mundane families as well.
"Not all people can see spirits, indeed, most of the population is completely out of tune with the spiritual plane. Which is funny, considering how much it effects them. Approximately 1% of the human population has enough spiritual awareness to see ghosts and mana. These peoples are called espepaths. An indeterminable amount of the population also can sense spiritual presence, but cannot see details of its forms.
"Approximately 0.1% of espepaths have high enough spiritual power to actually use ghost's power. In other words, for every hundred thousand people, one is a shaman. Keep in mind that some of them have only marginal powers.
"We seem to be facing a spiritual crisis of sorts. During the Great Wars and the chaos that followed, many, many souls left their body which were not content to simply die. Thus, we have more ghosts then we have at any other time in history. This has, for reasons uncertain, caused a spike in the number of non- 'pure bred' shamans."
"Wait, let me get this straight," I say unevenly. "You're saying that these ghosts are real, and I can use their powers because I'm one of these shaman people?"
"Quintessentially, yes," Darui replies.
"So..." I begin to ask. "Why do you want me anyways?"
"Let me explain," Darui continues. "Shamans carry a great amount of powers. In fact, a master shaman could probably defeat a small army without being injured. In this sense, shamans are a kind of living artillery for the state of Chinaka. This facility is used for training shamans, so that they learn to harness their spiritual power."

"So I'm some kind of magical super-soldier?" I ask, tilting my head. The absurdity of the conversation was now beneath me, and I was taking it seriously just for fun.
"Yes, you could say that," Darui chuckles. "However, there is a far more urgent purpose now. The Shaman Fight is fast approaching."
"Shaman Fight?" I ask curiously. "Weren't we going to fight in the first place."
"Allow me to explain," Darui says calmly. "Every 500 years, the great comet Ketu shoots through the skies. Hiding in it's shadows is Rahu, the Destroy, which threatens to destroy the earth. Thus, every five centuries, the greatest shaman in the world, aided by the Great Spirit, defeats Rahu and saves the world.
"Once Ketu first appears in the sky, a great tournament between all shamans in the world occurs. The one who emerges victorious becomes the Shaman King, and he or she is the one who must save the world. But the Shaman King carries a great amount of power as well as responsibility. Thus, every empire-state is trying to train the best shamans, so that they can have the world of shamans at their feet."
I whistle impressively. "This is all a bit much."
"Don't worry," Darui says lightly. "You really should get some sleep. Go ahead and sleep on it. It's a big deal to anybody who grew up being told that magic wasn't real and ghosts were just stories. Which is just about everyone."
"Okay," I respond dully. I stand up on shaky legs, then turn to look at Darui. "Er...where do I sleep."

Darui chuckles. "Hmm...let's see." A prog image pops up in mid-air, depicting the building's floor plans. The technological display seems strangely out of place here. "Ah, it looks like there's a spare bed in dorm room 134. You can head there."
"Okay," I start to head out of the room, then turn to look back. "Thanks, sir."

"No problem," the tall man responds heartily. "And please, don't call me sir. Darui, or if you must, 'chief.'"
* * *
I awake in darkness. Shaking my head to clear it, I vaguely recall reaching this room and stumbling into bed last night. It's pitch black, but there must be a little light filtering in from somewhere my eyes begin to slowly adjust to the darkness. Sitting up, I realize that I have to go to the washroom.
Groping my way to some kind of an opening, I find the bathroom door. I find and flip a switch easily. The burst of fluorescent light startles my darkened world, and I throw my arms up to shield my face. After a second, the spots in my eyes mostly disappear and I enter the washroom.
While relieving myself, I take a look around. It looks like a fairly utilitarian place, with a porcelain toilet and sink, a white light, and a small shower stall. As I take a drink of water and prepare to return to bed, I notice a small holo image on the desk. I peer at it, and a pretty young girl with her black hair in pigtails smiles back at me. Wondering who the image is of, I turn away and head out.
Before turning out the light and being immersed in total darkness once again, I take a moment to sweep my eyes over my new home. It seems to be a regular dorm room, with a discshelf and a prog viewer. A large chest of drawers lies against the far wall with a clock reading 2:26, and lined up against the wall are two beds: one empty, one full.
I rub my eyes as I peer at the second bed. A ghostly figure hovers over it, legs crossed and apparently meditating. He looks European and has a bald head, a relatively scrawny body, and plain hemp robes. A boy about my age lies in the bed, sleeping, but I can't see the details of him.
"Hello," the ghost speaks softly, startling me. His chilling blue eyes are now open, staring at me unwaveringly.
"Er...hi," I say, trying to be casual as I flip off the bathroom light. My vision is plunged into darkness, but I can still make out the presence of the ghost somewhat. "I'm new here," I practically whisper.
The unearthly figure smiles, and unfolds his legs. "We all were at some time. I'm Torrus."
"Natsume," I introduce myself, finding my way back to my bed. "Not to bother you, but er...what are you doing?"
Torrus chuckles, a low, melancholy sound. "I am the ghost companion of Lu Han Chang, this boy," he motions towards the one sleeping at his feet.
"Wow," I say as I slip under the covers. "So he's one of these shamans?"
"Aren't you?" Torrus asks quizzically.
"I guess I am," I respond, blinking.
"Don't worry," Torrus chuckles. "It was a bit overwhelming for Lu Han at first too." I make a mental note to hit the next person to tell me it's all a bit overwhelming at first...that is, assuming they're corporeal.
I blink, suddenly realizing something. "Hey, I'm actually having a conversation with a ghost. I mean, I've gotten past the whole ghost concept, but most of the ghosts I've run into have just murmured something about choosing them."
"Ah, petitioners," Torrus responds knowingly. "They all want to be your ghost companion, like I am for Lu Han. But don't worry. The department will find you a ghost that you can fight alongside soon enough."
Not feeling particularly reassured, I lie my head down on the pillow. A few minutes later, I'm sound asleep
To Be Continued....
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Author's Notes:

Sorry for not updating sooner, but I kind of got blocked. As it is, it took my computer crashing for me to remember this story.

On Chinaka and empire-states: After a period of great war, most of the world's nations have been solidified into empire-states. Some semblance of nationality remains, although most of the imperial authority is trying to correct that. Although they are technically at peace, it is hard to travel between empire-states and there is general harsh feeling between them. Chinaka is the main Asian empire-state, consisting of most of eastern Asia (just about everything east of India, including Japan) and some of Oceania. Other empire-states include the American Empire (North America, Australia and parts of the middle east), the European Union (duh, Europe), the New Soviet Empire (Russia, eastern Europe, and Siberia), the Hassan Kingdom (some of the Middle East and Africa), and the South American alliance (obviously, South America.) India and some African countries are neutral, mercenary states.

I really should start a web site about all this stuff. :p

Also, although I was planning to use dub terms in this fic, I have decided to use the original manga terms (according to Shonen Jump, at least. *waves SJ flag*) It's probably just because I like 'mana' a whole lot better than 'furioku'. The original concern with manga terms was that I might not know the term for something later on in the story, but judging at the pace I'm writing, that shouldn't be a problem.

Comments? Suggestions? Please review!