Hao Asakura, deemed as the greatest shaman, had many among his side, many loyal minions to assure his dominance, to scatter the dread of his presence everywhere they could.

But they were all pawns to him.

Except you.

You were soft-spoken, meek and often timid, yet something about you filled him with warmth.

He realized he wanted you in his new world. He wanted your warmth, he craved for it. You were always beside him, leaving the other 12 members envious.

You always sat at his feet, your cheek resting on his knees if you ever grew drowsy. Like today.

The 12 were out and about wrecking everything, while you were peacefully sleeping on his knee.

Hao smiled, which was often a rare occurrence, but to you, it seemed he smiled everyday.

He took off his absurdly large glove and stroked your hair, relishing in the peace of it all.