fushiipilled
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Summary
No. Yuki didn’t believe in the supernatural. She’d been called a liar over this fact just last night. Clearly, the pharmacist had just freaked her out; now she was threading pieces together that didn’t fit, concocting a bizarre delusion.
But then, another memory: the Three of Swords. Choso’s sudden rage, seemingly inexplicable; his baffling, rigid insistence—he’d said—That’s not possible.
Yuki’s jaw dropped. She ogled her reflection in the mirror, cream smeared around a gaping mouth.
Holy shit. Had she told a dead guy without a heartbeat he was going to die from heart disease?
or
In which Yuki works as a fortune teller, gets a strange (but incredibly sexy) client after hours, and gives the wrong prediction. Oh, and a blizzard's gonna make sure she doesn't get out of this situation as easily as she'd hoped.