Shaman King Fan Fiction ❯ Song for Anna ❯ Song for Anna ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

"You're my muse, you're my rhyme/You're the fire warming this heart of mine/When you hear me say "I love you"/Anna, do you know how much I do?" Songfic to Michael W. Smith's "Anna" from his album "This is Your Time." Oneshot. COMPLETE.

Anime/Manga: Shaman King Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Songfic | Uploaded On: 12.07.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 799 | Status: Completed

Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei, not me.

Jack is in the corner

The dish is with the spoon

The sheep is in the meadow

The cow is on the moon

And I am here with you and I believe

There's no place on earth I'd rather be.

And a promise not to leave you

Is a promise I can keep

He loved music.

From the time he was born, he loved listening to the different sounds and melodies around him. He often thought that if he hadn't been a shaman, he would be a professional musician. Guitar, most likely, but he always liked the piano.

When he was alone, he would write songs. Melodies would dance in his head, and then lyrics would follow. No one ever heard his music. No one at all. Just him.

His grandparents would call him foolish. His father would tell him to go train some more and clear his head. His mother might like it, but she loved everything about him.

All he wanted was to share his secret songs with one person, one person who would listen, and would want to listen. Especially one very special song.

You're my muse

You're my rhyme

You're the fire warming this heart of mine

When you hear me say `I love you'

Anna

Do you know how much I do?

“What are you listening to?” she asked, wiping her hands on her little pink apron.

He yanked his headphones off his ears. “Oh, oh…nothing,” he stammered. “Just nothing.” He snatched up a plate and dunked it in the hot water.

“I want to hear it,” she said. She held out her small hand. “Give me the headphones.”

“You don't- I mean- well…” he sputtered, gulping hard in embarrassment. “Are you sure? Do you really?”

“Yes,” she said. “Give me the headphones.”

Reluctantly he lifted them off of his ears and placed them in her hands. She tucked them carefully over her head. He ducked his head, ears flaming, as he went back to washing dishes.

So I watch you from a distance

Getting lost within your world

You're like a fairy princess

As you flutter and you twirl.

Fragile as the flower in your hair

Dancing in your castle unaware

That a single day without you

Would be more than I can bear.

She stood still, hands over the orange headphones to keep them on. He idly realized that he had been vigorously scrubbing the same plate for five minutes. Flushed, he placed it in the dish drain and reached for the next plate.

“Where'd you get this CD?” she asked. “I don't remember giving you money to buy a CD…”

“No, no, I didn't buy it,” he said. “I made it myself.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “One of those seared CDs…”

“Burned,” he corrected gently, smiling. She didn't hear him. “Do you like it?”

She nodded. Her blonde hair, mussed from the headphones, hung over her eyes and he resisted the urge to brush it back. “It's a love song,” she murmured. “Very pretty…”

“It's for you,” he whispered.

You're my muse

You're my rhyme

You're the fire warming this heart of mine

When you hear me say `I love you'

Anna

Do you know how much I do?

She pulled one of the earphones away. “What was that?” she inquired.

He looked down. “Nothing, nothing,” he mumbled.

“This love song,” she began. “Is the girl's name…really…Anna?”

He could feel the blush spreading across his face. “Uh, yeah…it's, it's Anna,” he admitted.

She looked up at him. “Did you find this song on the internet?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

One of the earphones stayed on the ear, the other rested on her cheek. “Then where did you get the song?” she persisted.

He took off the rubber gloves and draped them over the side of the sink, then turned to her. “I wrote it for you,” he whispered.

“You did?” she whispered. Her eyes widened. “You wrote it for me?”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I've written a lot of songs,” he confessed. “But this one is just for you.”

Little Anna, Little Star

That is what you really are

Cross my heart and hope to die

You're the apple of my eye.

Her immense, chocolatey eyes were fixed on him. “It's beautiful,” she whispered. “It's…it's just beautiful.”

He wrapped his arms around her small waist, relishing the feel of her soft warm cheek against his chest and the sweet smell of baby shampoo in her blonde hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He swayed gently, keeping her hips in rhythm with his, as he sang the words of his song to her.

You're my muse

You're my rhyme

You're the fire warming this heart of mine

When you hear me say `I love you'

Anna

Do you know how much I do?

For author's notes and commentary, please visit my homepage and visit the link marked “Fanfiction.”

“Anna” from the Michael W. Smith's “This is Your Time” album.