Chapter Text
As Heizou steps into their hotel room, the difference between the bathroom’s steam-filled air and the brisk chill sends a full-body shiver down his spine. He presses the towel around his neck tighter, then continues drying his hair.
“I thought you were turning the heat up,” Heizou whines, sitting on his bed. “I’m gonna freeze at this rate.”
Kazuha lounges on his own bed with a book. He glances at Heizou, but his gaze lingers on Heizou’s bare arms as he frowns. “I did turn it up, but won’t you be colder when we leave?”
“I thought it was warm out.” Heizou grabs his phone and opens the weather app, then turns it toward Kazuha with a triumphant grin. “Ha! See? Seventeen degrees.”
“You think that’s tank top weather?”
“I’m wearing pants. I’ll be fine.”
“You should bring a hoodie just in case,” Kazuha says, sighing. “It’ll get cooler later in the day.”
Heizou tosses the towel onto the bed sheets and combs his fingers through his hair. “You’re not just saying that because my soulmark is so visible?” he teases.
Kazuha looks pointedly at the ornate black top hat decorated by a magenta-striped ribbon on Heizou’s left shoulder. “You said it, not me. I thought you didn’t like your soulmark, besides. You tend to wear t-shirts when it’s warm.”
“Half true,” Heizou concedes. “I just think the soulmark is pointless. It’s not like fate is real. Even if it was, it’s not like I’ll bump into my supposed ‘soulmate’ while we’re here.”
“I don’t believe you can say that for sure,” Kazuha says. “We may not have many hats of that style in Inazuma, but they’re much more common here in Fontaine. They are especially popular among the wealthy.”
“So my ‘soulmate’ is rich,” Heizou grumbles, “yay me.”
“Possibly. It’s not a sure sign. Anyone could wear a stylish top hat.”
“Did you really see that many of them the last time you visited?” Heizou asks, shifting the topic just enough to be more comfortable.
“On a few people, yes.” Kazuha pauses, thinking back to his experience a few months ago. “It was all at the same time and place, though, and none of them resembled the one on your arm.”
“Was it that fancy restaurant you ate at once? What was it…” Heizou snaps his fingers, trying to recall. “Hotel Deebird?”
Kazuha hides his laughter behind his book. “Hotel Debord, yes. I’m taking you there tonight.”
Heizou’s eyes pop wide open. “What?”
The cool air bites his skin harder than before. He must be woefully underdressed. Scrambling to the nightstand between their beds, he snatches up his choker and snaps it on, the green charm swaying and clinking as he moves.
Kazuha laughs freely this time. “Don’t worry, it’s not just the wealthy who eat there. It is a popular tourist spot as well. There is a reason I didn’t ask you to bring a three-piece suit while we were packing. I didn’t bring that sort of clothing myself.”
“Are you sure you’re not hiding a shamelessly expensive outfit?”
“I’m certain. Are you sure you’re not worried about running into your prospective soulmate and sticking out among the crowd?”
Heizou’s expression pinches. “I’m used to sticking out. Looks like someone’s forgetting my detective uniform.” He crosses his arms. “I’m worried about us being obvious tourists and charged more than what we’re supposed to be.”
“I would be shocked if that happened here.” Kazuha shrugs. “This is the land of Justice. Such practices are far from just.”
“Not if they pay the bills.”
“They can’t pay the bills if they are caught by the police force.”
“And if they’re not?”
Kazuha stares at him.
Heizou slumps against the headboard. “Alright, don’t give me that face. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I trust your judgment, it’s just—”
“You hate fraud and want to protect us.” Kazuha smiles. “I know, Heizou. Thank you.”
Where most would consider Heizou to be argumentative and difficult, Kazuha sees straight to the heart of his intentions. Maybe it’s because they’ve known each other for so long, but it’s… nice, having someone who understands him. It still catches him off-guard sometimes, even now.
Clearing his throat and averting his eyes, Heizou says, “Are we all set to head out?”
“I would say so.” Kazuha slides a bookmark between the pages and sets his book on the nightstand.
As Kazuha moves to their shoes, Heizou asks, “Where are we going, again?”
“We’re going to try a bakery in a different part of town. Do you remember the one we walked past last night?”
Heizou grabs a hoodie out of his suitcase and ties it around his waist. “I’d almost forgotten about that, but yeah, I remember now. You promised we’d go today.”
“Exactly. We should be able to find it again pretty easily.” Kazuha watches Heizou pat his pockets for his wallet and phone, amused. “You can focus on sightseeing as we walk. I’ll lead the way.”
~
They wind through the stone-paved streets, the occasional breeze tossing their hair. Heizou had begged Kazuha to take him on his next trip to Fontaine just to see what all the hubbub was about: Kazuha had glowing reviews for weeks after his last trip. He described everything from the landscape to the food to the architecture in vivid detail. The opera he went to was a heart-rending tragedy, the museum boasted countless masterpieces, and the clockwork meka roaming the streets fit in seamlessly with their surroundings.
Now that he’s here in person, Heizou understands why Kazuha was so enchanted.
There were a couple of negative things, of course, like the way trials are handled and the disagreeable weather, but they haven’t encountered any bumps in the road so far. Heizou’s optimistic.
“We have a three of spades,” a man down the street shouts triumphantly. “Was this Lynette’s card?”
Excited applause and cheers erupt from the crowd ahead of them. Heizou tries to catch a glimpse of the performers, but a pair of tall people perfectly blocks the view from this angle. He frowns.
“Would you like to see the performance?” Kazuha asks as the man announces his next trick. “I’m curious as well.”
“Yeah.” Heizou takes Kazuha’s arm and jogs to the crowd. “Hurry up before they finish!”
They find a spot at the edge of the gathering and Heizou pauses, eyes wide. He stares directly at the male performer’s hat. Though it’s more detailed, with its cat-head pin and intricate design all around, it strongly resembles the mark on his arm. A glance down at it confirms his suspicions: it’s a perfect match. He bites his tongue to keep from vocalizing his shock and utter confusion.
Why is his hat on my arm? It looks custom-made. No, I’m dreaming. This is a joke. I need to get my eyes checked. What is going on?
Frantic thoughts swirl around his mind. He’s certain his hand on Kazuha’s arm trembles. Why does he feel faint?
His breath returns to him when the man looks at him and his smooth, lilting voice falters. Those violet eyes roam to Heizou’s arm, then stick to Heizou’s neck like glue. What could he be looking at?
His choker?
The moment disappears as soon as it comes. He feels Kazuha turning to him, but he quickly slips on his zip-up hoodie and focuses on the cards the man is shuffling.
Well, he tries to.
He thinks Kazuha whispers something to him at some point, but he doesn’t catch it. All his attention is on that performer, a skilled magician, and Heizou finds himself incapable of looking away.
Mixed feelings stir his heart. In his overwhelmed haze, he can’t pick them out, but he doesn’t know what he’ll do once the show is over. Will the magician duo pack up their things and leave immediately? Will they linger and try talking to him? He hopes not. If he opens his mouth, he might just throw up.
“I have one final trick for you all.” The man raises a finger. “I’ll need a helper from the audience. Who to choose…?” A wave of hands flies up, but his eyes scan the crowd before landing on Heizou, whose hands are clenched at his sides. He points at him and beckons him over, smiling wide. “You there, with the red hair. Come stand next to me.”
Heizou’s mouth runs dry, his tongue like useless balls of cotton. He points at his own face. “Uh, me?” he fumbles.
The man’s warm laugh washes over Heizou as he beckons once more. “Yes, you’re the lucky audience member for this trick. Don’t be shy, now.”
Kazuha nudges Heizou’s side and smiles at him, silently urging him on. With a gulp, Heizou approaches the performer and stands in front of him.
He whisks his hat off and presents it to Heizou. “I need you to drop something into my hat, small enough to fit in your hand. Whatever you choose, I promise it’ll be safe, but for your peace of mind, try not to use something too valuable.”
All Heizou has on his person is his phone and wallet. He frowns. Before he can say as much, the man gestures to his choker.
“Are you willing to part with that for a moment?”
“I…” Heizou slowly unclasps his choker and drops it in the hat. “I guess so. I don’t have anything else on me.”
“Thank you.” He taps the side of the hat, shakes it, and turns it upside down. Empty. His eyes widen. “Oh no, it seems your item has sprouted legs and run off… Where could it have gone?” He makes a show of peering into the hat, patting himself down, and even touching his own neck. “Could you please check your pocket?”
“My pocket?” Heizou sticks his hands in both pockets, just in case. One has his wallet and phone, but his fingers curl around a familiar object. He pulls it out.
It’s his choker.
“How—?” Heizou chokes out in wonder. He never felt anything slip into his pocket. In response, the man beams at him with a flourish of his arms.
“Magic, of course.” He whirls to face the audience, then bows. “They don’t call me The Great Magician Lyney for nothing, isn’t that right?”
The crowd applauds and cheers louder than ever before.
Heizou barely catches his spiel about an upcoming magic show, his ears locking onto “Hotel Debord” and nothing else. His mind drifts to more pressing matters.
The pit in his stomach grows now that his supposed “soulmate” has a name, a face, and a voice. It’s not a hypothetical pipe dream he’s been lectured about since childhood. The man, Lyney, his soulmate is right next to him. His mind races.
Lyney must have noticed the soulmark on his arm. Maybe he didn’t get a good look at it, but his gaze lingered on Heizou’s choker. That must’ve been why he chose Heizou, of all people, to be a volunteer: to confirm something.
Is it the unique green design? If Heizou’s soulmark is a hat, why wouldn’t his “soulmate”’s also be an accessory? Soulmarks tend to match.
But Heizou doesn’t see any marks on him other than face paint. That teardrop isn’t a soulmark, is it? Heizou hopes it is. He owns nothing related to teardrops, much less red ones. Ah, but his sister Lynette has a red star on her face. It must be a theme they have. Heizou clenches his jaw.
“Sir?” Lyney’s tentative voice cuts through his thoughts.
Heizou jumps out of his skin, nearly dropping his choker. The crowd dispersed while he was stuck in his own head. Lynette busies herself with packing up their props. Only Kazuha remains, standing by him and thoroughly concerned.
“Are you alright?” Kazuha asks.
“I’m fine.” Heizou distracts himself by snapping his choker back into place. “Let’s go.”
“Please wait,” Lyney rushes to say, taking a step forward.
Heizou takes a sharp step back. “If you want to say what I think you’re about to, your eyes were playing tricks on you.”
“That can’t be.” Lyney shakes his head. “I’m certain I saw my hat on your arm.”
“At that distance? There’s no way you saw anything concrete. You’re speculating.”
“Then please, if that’s what you believe, prove me wrong,” Lyney begs.
“No.” Heizou crosses his arms. “I’m not showing you a single thing. The wind’s picking up. I’m cold.”
Lyney practically rips off his left glove and shows off the back of his hand. “Can you explain this, then?”
The exact design of his choker’s charm, down to the colour and shade, is stark against Lyney’s pale skin. The four prongs pointing outwards, the four-pointed star in the middle, the ring around it… It’s a perfect match.
As if his heart couldn’t drop any further.
“If it’s not you,” Lyney voices Heizou’s thoughts, “who is?”
Heizou’s hands tremble. “This can’t be right,” he whispers in disbelief, then continues louder. Firm, but no less frantic. “I’ve never been to Fontaine in my life. I’m never coming back. This— anyone can have this. What makes you think it’s me in the first place?”
“You don’t have to live close to each other to be soul—”
“Don’t say that word.” Heizou throws a hand between them in a “stop” motion. “This doesn’t make any sense. You’re a stranger to me.”
“Almost everyone starts off as strangers,” Lyney insists. “We may be now, but we don’t have to be forever. We won’t be forever.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know the future.”
Lyney presses his lips in a tight line. “Don’t you know what the marks mean?” he asks, more exasperated than anything else.
“I don’t care what they mean to anyone else. They mean nothing to me. Fate itself means nothing. It doesn’t exist.” Heizou tears his eyes away from Lyney. “I choose who I care about myself. Nobody else determines that.”
He’s half-turned away when Lyney speaks again, and he stops the moment he hears his voice. “Don’t push yourself,” Lyney says. “Instead, if you ever want to find me and talk later, you know my name. You can find me at Café Lutece in the afternoons. Does that work for you?”
Heizou pauses, but he doesn’t consider accepting. “You don’t even know how long I’m here for.”
“My offer still stands. However long you’re in Fontaine, I’ll wait for you.”
Without looking back, Heizou sighs and walks away. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
It takes a moment for Kazuha to fall into step with him. Lyney doesn’t call out to him, and he refuses to look back to see what expression he wears. He’s certain the rejection stung, but the hurt won’t last for either of them.
Heizou thinks so, anyway. He’s been through much worse pain than this, but why does it hurt to begin with? Why does he feel worse than he did before the show ended?
… Where are they going, again?
Kazuha tugs him away from a streetlight he was one step away from bumping into. They stop next to it. “Do you still want to go?”
Heizou blinks at him, dazed for what feels like the hundredth time in the past hour. “Go where?”
“The bakery.” Kazuha frowns. “Unless you have lost your appetite.”
“I— no, I haven’t.” The sweets and pastries will serve as a good distraction, actually. He forces a smile he’s sure Kazuha will see through despite his best efforts. “I’m not letting that bring me down, don’t worry. I’m here to see Fontaine and that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
“Plans can change if you’re open to them,” Kazuha points out.
Heizou scoffs. “That bakery won’t escape me this time. You promised we’d go.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“And what do you mean, exactly?”
“That magician just now,” Kazuha says slowly, deliberately. “Do you mean to avoid him for long?”
Heizou’s nose scrunches like he smelled something putrid. He keeps walking, silent.
He never answers.