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Chapter Text

Ao Ohashi was deathly tired of Nanchou-shi.

The dreary town needed him not, he was sure of it.

Ryuusuke was slowly, but steadily taking over the streets with his hopeful falsities, making his feats feel futile. The women were happier, and even the men seemed to seek out ‘The White Clothed Pretty Boy’ more than him. 

Things were looking up for the small town, and even his mother’s scorned spirit lingered so lightly he didn’t even recognize it, some nights.

All this said, what reason did he have to keep pursuing the fog filled streets on late, lazy nights? The answer was ‘none’, and as much as the thought that Ryuusuke had finally driven him out of the town irked him, he was willing to accept that he simply had no place in Nanchou-shi, no reason to stay. So, he wouldn’t.

But where would he go?

~~~

Fukuzawa had not been Ao’s initial choice to move to, but it was a Heaven compared to “The Valley of Mirrors” and Amigara Fault.  

He would have gone to see “Twilight Pacific Peace” , he had heard they were pretty funny, but after hearing what happened to the Manzai's audiences, he realized he and the duo were kind of in the same boat.

So, yeah, Fukuzawa. Why not?

I’ll tell you why not.

Absolutely nobody did intersection fortune telling there. I mean, hell, were there any intersections to tell fortunes at? Not-fucking-really. This village was so fucking country bumpkin that there were barely any streets, and yeah, it was a nice notion that everybody knew each other, but damn did that make his job a little harder.

As much as he complained, Fukuzawa was his last and only choice, and it wasn’t hard to get the girls around town to start whispers rumouring the new phenomenon of an ‘Intersection Bishonen’.

When he did, he realized how comfortable he was enticing these poor girls into ending their lives.

Oh, yeah, he was back in the groove, and gradually, he began to settle into Fukuzawa’s [few] dimly lit intersections on cold, foggy nights.

Chapter Text

What was this?

Souichi was in class, jotting down the steps to his next eventful spell in his black, leather notebook, when he’d heard the start of the rumors.

An “Intersection Bishonen"? Fukuzawa barely had intersections! And why/how was this guy gaining more popularity than him?! The girls in his class had stopped whispering in absolute adoration about how awesome he was and his convenient curses, as they of course, normally did.

Instead, they were giggling and blushing over a creep who told fake fortunes in some dingy alleyways. 

This was no good.

No way were this nobody’s fortunes real; Souichi was the only magic user in the small town, and he’d never waste his powers on something as miniscule as fortune telling.  

This guy could pose a threat, not only to his inevitable whirlwind romance with one of the lucky ladies in his class, but also to his dark sorcery, his rituals, and the relationships he already had with the otherworldly.

He listened in on a conversation some of his peers were having a few desks over, opting to gather some intel on this “Bishonen” , and sneered.

“Dark hair”? “All black clothes?” God, how tacky. God, what a cliché. That’s what turned girls on these days? Where were they when he was eleven, am I right? 

Apparently, the first girl to fall for his little parlor trick killed herself a few days after getting her fortune told.

How sad.

Maybe he’d revive her for a few minutes to get some answers about what happened, who was he, and why was everybody calling somebody who sounded so mediocre ‘pretty'? This kid was obviously a sham, but if he was getting some poor girls to commit suicide, somehow, he could be more powerful, more familiar with black magic than Souichi had initially thought.

This was just no good. This simply would not do at all.

That was it! The last straw! Souichi’d check this imposter out himself! Then, from there, he’d do what he did best:

Set the greatest curse the world has ever seen on this “Intersection Pretty Boy”...

There was only one, teensy-weensy problem with that.

What the fuck was ‘intersection fortune telling’?

Damn it, it sounded like something stupid Michina would be into, but she hadn’t been back in Japan, let alone this god forsaken village since that last incident. He sure as hell wasn’t going to go to Kouichi about this, fuck that, he’d figure it out his damned self.

A little more eavesdropping, snooping, and annoying the girls in his class later, and he finally got it.

What kind of city bullshit was intersection fortune telling anyway?

It didn’t matter, because he got what he needed, and it was time to get his fortune told.

Chapter Text

Stealing his father’s briefcase had been fairly easy for Souichi (he didn’t really have a bookbag, bookbags and school supplies were for those who actually tried at school, like Kouichi. Bleh! ). Sneaking out the house while he was grounded? Even easier.

Now, he was walking into the streets, chilled and far too tired for this all to be fake. He’d better not be wasting his time with this. He looked around, clutching the case tighter to his chest as if it’d chase away the cold, he frowned, not knowing nights could even support as much fog that hung in the air. 

He was getting ready to call it a night, hating himself for leaving his sweater, and having the [lack of] mind to keep his pajama shorts on as he climbed out the window. Of course there wouldn’t be a fortune teller out here in this cold, this late, in this darkness. As he turned, though, he saw the girls. 

In almost every intersection, Souichi saw the anticipation in the girls’ trembling knees, faces shielded, and a ghostly shadow waltzing the street, directly towards him. 

Seeing that there may be some truth to the rumors, he ran. He had to find another intersection before the man got to him, and he was only getting closer to where he was. He found one, just in time, the mysterious seer only a few intersections away.

 Souichi took that moment to peek behind his briefcase, just for a second, to see what exactly he was dealing with here.

He’d deny the chill he felt when he laid eyes on the silhouette, knowing it wasn’t from the low temperature of the night. Breath catching, Souichi held it, perceiving that when the figure moved, it was as if he didn’t even touch the ground, his every movement graceful as he floated to each convergence. Even so, Souichi still couldn’t see him, but shielded his eyes anyway, because it was as if the Bishonen was glowing, a bright aura surrounding as the fog clung to his back, moving with him down the street.

Finally, it was his turn to get his fortune told, to debunk this myth once and for all.

Souichi was ready.

“Oya~,” a voice rang, sultry and soft, breaking the silence of the night. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a young man requesting my… services~”

Okay, so maybe Souichi wasn’t ready. Maybe he was anything but ready for the whispered honey he’d just heard.

His heartbeat strummed in his ears, blood rushing through his veins, and suddenly, the night was anything but quiet, the silence having left with that first ‘oya’, and Souichi almost ran right there.

He couldn’t retreat now, though. He wouldn’t, not when he was right here. Not when he was so close to cutting this hoax oracle’s legs out from under him.

“What can I do for you?”

Souichi ignored the initial thoughts that came to mind, and in favor, pulled down the briefcase with widened eyes.

Face to face with the Intersection Bishonen, finally, for the first time, Souichi let his body go half lax.

“Huh,” he shrugged. “You’re not even that pretty.”

Chapter Text

“Huh,” the boy in the intersection shrugged. “You’re not even that pretty.”

Ao gasped, dramatic, with a hand flying to his chest, and eyes widened. He fumed, hot with rage at such insolence. Who did this fucking brat think he was?! ‘Not that pretty’? ‘Not that pretty’?! Did he know how many women ended their lives over his beauty?! Could he even comprehend the atrocities committed simply because he’d uttered a word?!

He held back from curling a lip over his teeth, but let venom drip into his voice.

“Excuse me…?” he grit. “What did you say… little boy?”

Taking a closer look, he saw that actually, they looked to be around the same age. Of course, he was taller, by a lot it seemed. He wanted to roll his eyes, and did, because lack of pupils and irises made it so his reputation couldn’t be ruined by this fiend. If the idiot had been perturbed by the title, he didn’t show it and simply gave him a once-over, looking bored and unimpressed.

“I thought maybe you’d be a little prettier,” he continued, not noticing the steam coming out of Ao’s ears. “I mean-”

“And who are you to tell me all this?” he cut him off, volume raised before clacking his teeth shut.

He looked around, and coincidentally, the nuisance was the last one waiting to get his fortune told. With that noted, he jutted down, getting in his face.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he sneered. “I’m the prettiest person you’ve ever met.”

“Uh-h-h-h…” he drew out. “No.” He finished. “No, you’re not,” he reiterated, fucking yawning. “In fact,” he smiled, confidence rolling off him. “You’re a little less than average.” A smirk made its way onto his face.“You’re not even the prettiest in town. That’d be me, of course,” he teased.

“And who. Are. You?” he asked again, fists clenching.

Was this kid fucking insane?! “Less than average”?! 

He’d kill him his damn self, fuck the whole suicide process. He needed this kid dead, now.

“You mean you haven’t heard of me?” he said, mock offense on his face and hand to his chest, imitating the way Ao had his earlier. “I’m only the greatest sorcerer this measly village has ever seen!” he bragged, nose upturned. “Souichi Tsuji! That’s my name! Remember it when you’re burning in Hell!”

‘Sorcerer’? Oh my god, this kid was actually delusional. And “Souichi Tsuji”? What a tacky name, fitting for someone who did intersection fortune telling in shorts and a tank-top. Didn’t he know this was a place of business?

“Please…” he ended up sneering. “I’ll be sure to forget it,” he scoffed with the wave of his hand.

“Oh, you doubt me?”

“I do, actually.”

“Fine,” Souichi said simply.

Ao was taken aback.

He just left.

Souichi just turned and left after uttering the single word. He said nothing else, he didn’t turn back, but it wouldn’t be the last time Ao saw Souichi Tsuji.

Definitely not the last.

Chapter Text

Ao waited at the alley, and he wished he had a watch to check, because where was he? ‘He’, being that greasy looking kid who swore to the ends of the Earth that he was some black magic magician or something. Ao was expecting him, as horrid as it sounded. How was he not supposed to when the twerp came back to that same alley “get his fortune told” every night.

Vexatiously, he insisted on it.

Every night, he was there with an insufferable smirk strained and wiry on his pale face. It was frustrating, because in fact, he never actually asked for his fortune to be told. He insisted on changing the subject, always asking about how Ao was doing, butting into his personal life. It couldn’t be any less of his business how he snuck into plays and danced in his free time, about how much he loved the rain and a soft, lavender color, and Ao was positively sick of being nice to this freak.

So why was he suddenly at such a loss for words, staring into an empty alleyway? 

Ao looked to the sky.

He, himself wasn’t late for their meeting. Whatever-his-name-was was always here, at this time, body leaning slightly (from what Ao has been assuming is fatigue from coming out here so late at night), swallowed in a sweater after learning his lesson that first freezing night he’d tried this whole fortune telling thing. He himself hadn’t done anything out of routine, so why wasn’t that brat here?

I- I mean! As if he cared!

It was a good thing that he wasn’t here!

Right?

It wasn’t like there was ever anybody looking to get their fortune told after him. He was always the last one out here, because by the time they finished their scheduled banter the sun peeked from behind the buildings, and they’d- ‘reluctantly’, the fiend would claim- part ways.

Ao can admit that he’d been looking forward to a little debate tonight. It was somehow cathartic, though, he wasn’t sure what exactly he, as a spirit, needed stress relief from. What he wasn’t going to admit to was how scorned he was that he wasn’t here, and not just because he was bored. There was something grounding about the breathing boy’s presence, about him always being here. Now his anxiety was doubled, because what the fuck, the idiot wasn’t even there!

He fumed, tapping at his wrists and tugging pink lips between teeth. 

‘Don’t do that,’ he told himself. ‘You’re not worried about the spazz, you’re angry. ’  

He spat, excess gloss suddenly bitter as opposed to literally any other day. Unsure of what to actually do, he just stood there for a second, offended and hurt .

This kid has been aggravating him for weeks, and now he has the gall to stand him up?! As if thee Ao Ohashi was going to let that slide!

He floated into the alleyway, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

Souichi always came this way, he was sure of it. (It wasn’t like he had been watching him or anything!) There wasn’t really anywhere else for him to come from, and Ao had the mind to trust his own judgement.

He told himself it wasn’t crazy, that it didn’t seem like he was absolutely obsessed with this kid. He was just going to find him to cuss him out and curse him and tell him to never not show up again. It was the principle of the thing.

Routine, people! Routine!

Up the hill at the end of the alley, was a single abode, a single light on in a room facing the alley’s entrance.

Got him.

Looking in, he saw Souchi. (Ugh, he’d even remembered his name.)

He was lying on his side, shirtless and relaxed, messing with what looked like a sick toad (barf!!) on the floor. He was chuckling to himself as he pulled lightly at its legs.

He looked about ready to fall asleep, not a care in the world, and Ao was ready to finally make that move to break his neck. (He couldn’t tell you why he’d kept him alive for so long, and don’t say that it was because he was starting to actually like the little freak. As if! Souichi was entertainment at best, and nothing more.)

Still, this bastard wasn’t even worried about it?! He didn’t care that he’d kept him waiting!? The pomposity! How dare he!?

Ignoring his state of dress, Ao threw open the sliding door with a slam. His fury showed on his face, and he was sure to use all his ghostly stops, bringing out the smoke and light.

No way in this hell was this kid serious!

Even as he ‘stomped’ into the room, sure that he was menacing in every sense of the word, Souichi only looked up at him, eyes as lazy as they always were when he regarded him, lidded and unfocused. He moved slowly to sit up, as if this were an everyday occurrence, like he couldn’t care less that he’d have to explain to his dad how exactly his back door had gone off its hinges. He probably didn't, because obviously the jerk didn't care about anything. He smirked up at the spirit, grin wobbly and oh, so pretentious...

“Miss me?” He slurred, raising an eyebrow, and lips closing into a smirk with ease.

Ao sneered, feeling the corners of his own mouth lift involuntarily, his next words stinging with intemperance as they smiled at one another.

“Not even a little bit.”