Archive of Our Own

I. Hanged Man

The first time Amamiya-kun requests one of Chihaya’s “affinity readings”, she can see his worry even hidden behind those glasses of his. It’s in the slightly more pronounced slump to his shoulders, and how his smile for her is tired and fails to touch his eyes. But of course all that changes when he gets closer to her little fortune telling stall.

It’s so easy to be smitten, Chihaya thinks as Amamiya-kun approaches her flimsy little table that could barely pass hosting a modest game of cards. He strides - of course he strides, he does not simply walk (how pedestrian, if you’ll forgive the pun) - toward her and the little smile that plays gleefully on his lips might be one that only she sees.

Everyone has to have a dream. At least, that’s what mama had always told her.

She wants to reach out for him, squeeze his hand like the smitten little goober that she is, get him to spill all of his secrets (of which there are many, and you can’t convince her otherwise) to her. She would hold his secrets dear and close to her heart, where no one can find them and use them to hurt him.

Indeed, Chihaya would like to relieve the handsome young man of all of his worries if she can. Instead, she’ll do the next best thing: read him his fortune and guide him as best she can.

“Hi, Chihaya-san. How’s it going?” He sets his shoulder bag down with a quiet grunt and plops his not-insignificant frame onto the modest little chair.

His voice is bright like always, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d ask him why he needs her services in the first place.

But she does know better, Maiden of Relief that she is.

“I’m fine, Amamiya-kun. It’s a lovely night for once,” she observes with a hint of her own smile. Chihaya smooths her hands over her long blond hair.

“Yeah, finally,” he accentuates his point with an exaggerated roll of his eyes that she barely catches behind his glasses, “Morgana wouldn’t stop griping about what the heat did to his fur…or hair, maybe?”

Why does that name sound familiar? “Oh! Is he a friend of yours?”

The corner of his mouth curls up just enough to hint at a smirk. The lights bounce off his glasses, obscuring his eyes. It annoys her that he can hide them behind reflected neon.

“You could say that. More like my roommate, pain in the ass that he is.” He’s joking of course, and she can sense the deep care that he has for this “Morgana”, regardless of his words.

“So, what can I do for you? Here for a reading?”

He clears his throat and plays at the collar of his t-shirt. “Uh, yeah. I actually wanted to try an affinity reading? You mentioned it last time.”

She brightens immediately in her excitement. It’s something that she’s been working on perfecting for a few months, and Amamiya-kun will be her first client to try it on.

“Great! I’ve never actually done this before, so I hope you don’t mind being my guinea pig!”

A strange expression flashes across his face and she’s pretty sure he flinches a little.

But whatever. Something about breaking eggs to make a cake, right?

He asks how it works, and she explains that he’ll need to picture the person he wants to get closer to in his mind. To hold them there while she and her cards reach out to the other person.

“It’s like I’m planting a seed of a deepened connection. Then you can just, you know, hang out, I guess? And then that other person will trust you more and feel closer to you than before.”

“Huh,” he replies, “imagine that.”

“Yes, imagine that.” He chuckles a little, dipping his chin down toward his collar. “No, seriously. Imagine it.”

“Oh! Right. Yeah.”

He takes a few breaths and closes his eyes. Chihaya rolls her shoulders and tries not to get lost in the crease of worry that disappears from his forehead. Her fingers barely kiss the top card of her tarot deck. She hopes she doesn’t mess this up, not when it’s Amamiya-kun. “Here we go…”

Chihaya flips the card over to reveal the card of the Hanged Man arcana. She closes her eyes and in her mind’s eye she conjures a single image swirling within a gray mist. It’s a gecko she sees, and she concentrates harder. The mist clears before her, and the gecko is not just a gecko. It’s an ink drawing of a stylized gecko.

It’s a tattoo, Chihaya realizes.

She tries to reach out to the owner of the tattoo while trying to connect the aura of her friend who trusts her so with that of this other person that he seeks. When she makes contact, impressions flood her.

The gecko is the mark of a family. The owner of the tattoo is trying to protect it because there’s danger surrounding him. There’s a darkness pouring from what used to be a source of light, and their mutual friend is doing his best to help. Warmth bubbles up in her chest, in her heart. She can almost feel it transfer through her - from Amamiya-kun to this man. When the power subsides and rolls out like the tide, she severs the connection with a shaky exhale.

She opens her eyes to find a gentle, satisfied smile across from her. Soft eyes behind his glasses find hers. He scratches the back of his neck.

“So, uh, is that it? How did it go?”

Chihaya sputters a response; she should have known that her friend would’ve asked. That if anyone would have asked, it would have been him. Eventually she answers with a diminutive “It went well…I think. Do you think anything has changed?”

He rubs at his chin. “You know, I think so. It’s hard to explain, but I think I ‘get’ Iwai a little better now.”

She’s apprehensive about this. “Um, can you…explain that a little more,” she asks before quickly adding, “so I can understand how it works for you better? Maybe I can be more effective the next time.”

She inwardly sighs. She hadn’t wanted to make him uncomfortable, and she really does want to do this as well as she can. Ren deserves as much.

Her friend rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I felt like…little impressions about him, I guess? He’s fiercely protective of people he’s close to. He’s a hard man, but not a bad man.” At her curious expression, he comments further. “Yes, there is a difference.”

“Okay, so you definitely feel like you know him better.” Chihaya nods to herself and grins. “Well, good. That’s the point, you know.”

He hesitates for a moment, a question on his lips. “And, um, what do you think the other person sees?”

She hadn’t thought about that. She considers it now. “Well, I believe that the other person will simply trust you more, or be more willing to share things with you.” She watches him sigh in relief. “Don’t worry. I’m not able to see your secrets, and the other person can’t either.”

His smile broadens and for the first time, Chihaya notices the little dimples that touch his cheeks. It must be the broadest smile she’s ever seen on him. “Well, just so you know,” his grin falters and he actually looks bashful, “I don’t really mind sharing with you. I trust you. You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

It makes her blush. Really makes her blush, and that flutter in her chest is getting much harder to ignore.

He begins to pull out his wallet, asking how much he owes her. She shushes him immediately.

“No charge tonight.” Her cheeks heat even further. “Since, um, it was the first time I’d really tried it. And you were so willing to help and -”

“I was a good guinea pig, then?” That knowing smirk is back alongside the interruption.

She nods. “Yes, since you were such a good guinea pig.” The notion that she’s missing a part of a joke strikes her again.

“Never thought that would come in handy,” he mutters as he gathers his things. When he stands, he simply looks at her thoughtfully. Chihaya wishes, not for the first time, that she could read minds. Just before the silence becomes truly uncomfortable, he thanks her again with a little bow that she finds incredibly endearing. “I’ll see you soon.”

When she asks him to be careful, he turns his head to her and smiles.

Chihaya hopes that means that he will.

II. Emperor

It’s a slow night tonight, but thankfully the recent heat wave seems to have moved on and Chihaya can sit at her table and not feel too gross in her dress and leggings. She unscrews the lid to her bottle of tea and takes a long sip, capping it off with a most unladylike “aaahhh” as the cool liquid coats her tongue. Replacing the cap and setting the bottle aside, Chihaya takes another look around at the neon haze that glitters her little slice of Shinjuku. A little dismayed at how slow tonight has been, she notices the reporter that she sometimes sees at Crossroads half-stumble her way to a waiting taxi.

That woman drinks far too much, in Chihaya’s humble opinion.

She immediately averts her eyes like she’s seen something surprisingly intimate; or something so embarrassing that its tendrils tug at her own ankle. Instead, she decides to pull her phone from her bag; after all, she can spare a couple of minutes just to check the -

“Nine to eight in the eighth inning, last I saw. Balentien has two homers.”

Chihaya smiles because it’s Amamiya-kun, and somehow he knew that she was going to check tonight’s scores. Fortune teller or not, this country girl still has a thing for baseball. She internalizes a chuckle as she recalls the easy conversation they’d had a couple of weeks ago about it. And that he’d mentioned there’s a place with batting cages near where he lived. And maybe she’d mentioned that she’d like to come check it out sometime. And then maybe he’d offered to take her there himself once this business with the ADP was taken care of.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When she looks up to see him leaning against absolutely nothing with his easy slouch, his little smirk that’s just so alluring and his glasses that hide so much, she can’t help but think just how handsome he is. And, golly, she needs to cool herself off because he’s just a high school kid and while she’s not really that much older than he is, she’s still a mon-

“Mind if I sit?”

He’s looking at her with that easy smirk again and his honest eyes and…Chihaya really needs to get a hold of herself. Because of course she doesn’t mind, but her brain is scrambling for purchase, so she can only gesture toward the chair about as lamely as a boneless frog.

“Slow night?” he asks as he adjusts his glasses a little with a quiet chuckle.

“Something like that.” She slips her phone back in her purse. “How are you tonight?”

He shrugs. How typical.

“You don’t already know?”

Chihaya does snort a laugh this time. “I’m a fortune teller, not a mind reader,“ she retorts. “Anyway, something is on your mind if you came all this way.” She leaves the ‘just to see me’ off of the end of that sentence. Best not get her hopes up.

“I couldn’t just come to see you?”

Did he just…? She tries to control the burning in her cheeks as blood rushes in, but she was never that good at hiding her feelings once she started to show them. So, she looks down at her table instead.

“I highly doubt that’s the reason,” she mumbles shyly. “What do you need, Amamiya?” Chihaya winces at just how sharp and so damn formal her question sounded. It’s the direct opposite of the tone she wanted. If it fazes him, he doesn’t show it.

“I need another affinity reading if you’re still doing them.”

Ah, there it is. He wasn’t just here to see her, then. Even so, she does like that the first time must have worked well enough, and that he trusts her enough to help him out again.

“Of course I am. But it’s still five thousand yen, like the regular fortunes.”

He grins back at her. “No special discount for apprentices or close friends?”

“’Fraid not, bucko.” Then she grimaces again because that isn’t how she likes to talk when she’s on the job. Not at all.

“‘Bucko’, huh?” He laughs, and Chihaya thinks that she quite likes the sound of that. Even though her country-self is a bit embarrassing.

“Sorry about that,” she murmurs instead.

He waves her off. “Don’t be. It’s cute.”

Oh God, she thinks, because why would he call her cute?? She’s just a bumpkin! A hick! A goober! A -

“Hey, you all right, Chihaya-san?”

She swallows back the flustered truth. “Yes, I’m fine,” she lies through heated, blushing skin.

He still smirks at her, but his eyes show something that’s almost affectionate.

Oh, she doesn’t have time for her stupid girl-brain!

“So, this works the same as last time?”

Before answering, she settles into “Fortune Teller Mode” with a few deep breaths that clear her mind of all this…other stuff.

“Yes, focus on the person you wish to become closer to, have a clear picture of that person in your mind.”

His brow furrows in concentration. “All right. Got it.”

Fully focused on the task at hand now, Chihaya mutters a quiet “Here we go” as she flips the top card to reveal the card of the Emperor arcana.

Behind her closed violet eyes, she sees a child - a newborn baby - tucked tightly in his mother’s arms. There’s love overflowing from the woman and it nearly brings Chihaya to tears. Then the image becomes a painting, its bright and honest love tucked away in a darkened storage room.

The baby has now grown into a young man who stands staring, transfixed. He runs a child-sized hand through his hair and then he’s standing in a subway station under the spotlight of isolation. All the other people scatter around the light, moving to and fro while the young man applies brush strokes to his canvas. The colors of his heart are beautiful but leave him wanting.

Chihaya reaches out to him, bridging this young man’s heart with that of Amamiya-kun’s. There’s a surge of hope and longing - a longing to learn, a yearning to belong. They both want to understand and be understood.

With a long exhale, Chihaya pulls back, severing the connection as gently as she can. She sits back in her chair, grabbing her tea because she’s suddenly parched. She takes three hefty swallows and soaks up the liquid like soil in a summer drought.

“Are you okay, CHihaya-san?”

She holds up a finger in a silent command to wait.

He does, and while his face is relaxed, his eyes are concerned.

Her stomach does a little flip because it’s been a long time since anyone looked at her with genuine care.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Are you sure? You look a little flushed.”

“It’s nothing. That was just a very intense, er, connection. Are you two close?”

Amamiya-kun leans back with an unreadable expression on his face. “You could say that. You could also say that I have a vested interest in knowing this person better.”

Well. That gives her pause. It’s not like she knows this young man before her all that well, but he never gave her the impression that he was into -

“Oh, not like that!” He quickly amends with a fiercely spreading blush on his cheeks. Had her face been that obvious?

“I’m sorry,” she offers meekly. “I didn’t mean to…you know, imply or anything. It’s not my business what you -”

Suddenly, he leans forward on his elbows, his eyes are consumed with intensity. “It’s not like that at all, Chihaya-san.” He’s trying to tell her something without telling her what it is.

She smirks a little. “Well, that’s good to know.” She stretches her back, and she knows his eyes are following the curve of it. “Now, if there’s nothing else, it’s getting late and you know how it is around here.”

He stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I know.” He bows politely, but he doesn’t even try to hide the small smile that breaks through that facade of his. “Have a good night, Chihaya-san.”

“You too,” she replies sincerely.

And with that, he turns and disappears back into the crowd.

III. High Priestess

R: Chihaya-san, Hawaii was a lot of fun but the jet lag? 😴

R: Ooof

R: Wait is it even jet lag going east to west?

M: I don’t really know off the top of my head. I’ve never even left the country. You’re so lucky.

R: Lucky? I don’t know about that. It was a strange trip.

M: I bet. You do always seem to find trouble.

R: Hey! I resemble that remark!

M: Resemble? Don’t you mean resent?

R: I absolutely do not. It was some joke I heard here. I thought it was funny so…

M: You’re such a goober.

R: This goober is very māluhiluhi

R: p.s. that means I’m tired lololol

M: I don’t need my cards to say I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’m glad you had a good time.

M: But take as much time as you need. Your Master is merciful to her Apprentice. 😉

R: 😮

R: Chihaya-san! What are you implying??

R: …my MASTER??

R: you’re still just a fortune teller, right?

M: What? Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?

R: Nevermind. Just paranoid about women saying the word master to me.

M: I’m so confused right now.

R:. Yeah sorry. I’ll explain later, promise.

R: So…have you made any progress?

M: Can we talk about it when I see you?

R: Oh yeah, sure. Sorry.

R: I should probably talk to you too.

R: About some stuff.

R: If that’s ok?

M: Of course. You can always talk to me about anything.

M: Are you ok?

R: Yeah. I just need to talk to you

Chihaya has been consistently revisiting their text exchange since it happened three days ago, and each time she worries a little bit more. She’s seen the news about the Shujin principal inexplicably standing in the middle of heavy rush hour traffic, just to be flattened out of existence by a truck that was about as subtle as the flood she predicted when she was just a kid.

That rumors swirl that the Phantom Thieves are the culprits only adds to her unease. While Ren has never explicitly stated that he’s involved with the vigilante group, Chihaya is no dummy and has suspicions that he is the Trickster, the Wild Card, the Fool and fulcrum upon which so much of the world turns.

And right now, the world seems to be turning around the Phantom Thieves.

The weather is cooler this evening, another welcome reprieve from what has largely been an overbearing summer. For once, Chihaya’s long sleeves and black tights aren’t as absurdly out of place given the temperature.

Ren arrives and immediately plops into the chair across from her. Chihaya’s first thought is that he looks exhausted. His black mess of hair is somehow messier than usual and the dark shadows under his eyes are obvious even beneath his glasses.

“Ren, are you…how are you?”

He blows out a long breath and shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

She snorts. “Yeah, okay there, hayseed,” she drawls. Ren’s eyes widen in honest surprise and she tries to backtrack. When his laughs become heaving guffaws, Chihaya can’t help but join him as well.

When they finally calm down, he looks at her openly and honestly. It’s so much more of Ren than she’s ever been allowed to see, and you know what? She’s so grateful to be his friend.

“You look terrible, by the way. I’ll lend you that beautifier you got me last month,” she offers with a grin. “It couldn’t hurt.”

Ren smirks, and for a moment he almost looks like himself again.

And then it disappears.

“Can I talk to you about what happened during our school trip?” He grimaces slightly, and Chihaya is distinctly reminded that he’s just a boy (not that she’s that much older, but still) who she knows is carrying far more than he should have to.

“Of course you can.”

He nods and tells her about Hawaii, his friends, and then the news of Kobayakawa. He tells her in no uncertain terms that it’s likely that he might be implicated despite the fact that he was halfway across the Pacific Ocean at the time.

She tells him that researching into the ADP is going “slower than cold molasses”. The turn of phrase makes him laugh, but Ren then tells her to not get discouraged, and that he’s doing his own research as well. It makes her feel better, but she wishes she that she’s better at this.

Chihaya says that she wishes she could do more for him, to take the weight from him. But she’ll listen and help guide him as best she can.

He smiles honestly. “That’s more than enough. Mostly just…thanks for listening to me. It makes me feel better talking about it.”

The selfish girl in her wishes that he means that telling her specifically is what matters most, but that’s unimportant right now. He sheepishly tells her that he also requires her “other services”, and she laughs because it sounds a little silly after this conversation. She swaps her “friend hat” for her “fortune teller hat” and they get down to business. Ren is well-practiced by now, and he immediately closes his eyes and concentrates.

Chihaya flips the card and the iconography of the High Priestess glares back at her. The word “glare” feels like an odd word for her to associate with the symbol of this arcana, yet as she keeps her eyes on the card, just before closing them to begin the connection, a part of her is convinced that it’s the only appropriate one. And then the connection hits and the vision isn’t as jarring as the overwhelming emotion that nearly overflows from the link.

Loneliness. Uselessness. A burden; she’s a weight around the necks of others, yet she’s nearly crumbling beneath the weight of expectation. It’s the expectation of others, and it’s become the expectations of herself.

Watery, crimson red eyes stare back at Chihaya; the eyes of a lonely young girl who doesn’t know how to live. She’s holding a plush panda tightly to her chest.

Her vision pulls back, and the girl is older now. She wears a Shujin uniform with black leggings (that detail makes Chihaya smile), but her movements are precise and jerky. They’re the mannerisms that remind her of depictions of robots from 1950s science fiction films. They’re exaggerated in their precision. She sees the girl’s face, and she’s so sad that it hurts. There’s no frown; in fact, there’s no expression at all.

Beep boop

What the hell was that?

The scene shifts, and the girl is hunched over a desk in a bedroom, she’s encased in a cone of light from a lamp perched near the edge of the desk. The rest of the room is imperceptibly dark. It’s plenty dark enough to hide fears and monsters and other bastards that go bump in the night.  She’s scratching letters onto the pages of a notebook, notes from school.

She’s so diligent, but it comes at a cost. The shadow of her enormous stuffed panda (Chihaya thinks it looks familiar) looms on her bed, but any other traces of the girl’s life are precariously absent. It’s her and her work, a lamp and a desk. Anything else feels superfluous to requirements.

‘You’re useless to me.’

The girl doesn’t even flinch, but a tear rolls down her cheek. She presses on despite this, she has no choice. The pressure is too great - inertia carries her ever onward, even if she just wants to stop for a moment to catch her breath and see if there isn’t more to life than what she’s been told. Then the pen stops moving, the scratch against paper mute as the girl stretches. On the other corner of her desk is a comically large figure of a sleek, powerful motorcycle.

It feels overwhelming, Chihaya feels so much passion in this connection, it overflows like a flood and she has trouble containing it. But she can do it, she can handle it all and maintain the link. She feels the strain though, and the pulse in her ears gets louder until finally…

It subsides. Before the waves crest, it pulls back softly into the ether as Chihaya breaks the connection.

Chihaya opens her eyes and nearly panics because Ren has his hands on her shoulders and his face is blurry. Blurry?

“-haya! Talk to me. Are you okay?”

He’s blurry because of tears. Her tears. She turns away and wipes at her cheeks and dries her eyes. Chihaya’s throat is tight and dry, and she immediately twists open her thermos and practically guzzles her tea down.

Ren removes his hands from her shoulders, but stays crouched in front of her, his eyes sharp and observant. He takes a deep breath and his eyes never leave hers. He’s searching for something.

“Chihaya,” he begins more softly, “are you okay?”

“Yes, Ren. Of course I am.” It escapes from her mouth without thought or consideration. She’s not - she’s really not - because that was intense.

“The connection was more intense than I’ve been accustomed to, but the other person - the High Priestess,” she gestures to her cards, “is a very intense person. She’s so passionate, but she’s been pushing it down inside herself for nearly her whole life.” As she tells him about it, the dread and apprehension bleeds out of her, and before Chihaya knows it, she realizes that she is okay now.

Ren slides his hand through his hair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, that tracks.” He slides back into his chair and blows out a sigh. “You’re sure you’re okay?

Chihaya smiles appreciatively and pats his hand. He’s so sweet and her cheeks flush because he’s so sweet to her. It’s probably just because of what just happened, but maybe a girl can pretend.

Oh, how she wishes she didn’t have to pretend.

With a sigh, Ren checks his phone and mutters under his breath. “I have to get home, but if you need to talk…or anything, just call me. Don’t bother with a text, all right?”

Chihaya shudders in her chair, and it takes quite a lot for her to not jump up and hug him. Her cheeks heat at the thought, and she only barely manages to mutter that she will, but that he needn’t worry about her.

Ren looks uncertain, but nods his acceptance. “I’ll see you later, Chihaya. And let me know as soon as you find anything on the ADP.”

“Yes, of course.”

He sighs, and looks at her with an expression she can’t place. It makes her heart skip. “Good night. Thanks again.”

He says it so earnestly that warmth blossoms in her chest. “You’re welcome,” she replies earnestly. “Good night, Ren-kun.”

“Yeah…” he trails off as he turns and takes a few steps before he looks back over his shoulder with the barest hints of a small smile. Then he walks off with his hands dutifully stiffed in his pockets.

“Oh no.” Chihaya slowly rakes her fingers down her face in utter frustration. If she was smitten before, she’s not quite ready to name what she is now.

IV. Temperance

It’s still early on a Wednesday evening when Ren shows up unannounced. Chihaya sees him over the shoulder of the man that sits in front of her, hoping that she can somehow erase the mistakes of his past. She adjusts her headband slightly and meets Ren’s eyes. He nods, nearly imperceptibly, and she returns to the man at her table. A few minutes later, he thanks her for her help, stands up, straightens his dark suit jacket and heads off.

Then Ren steps toward her, and he looks…exhausted in a way she’s never seen before.

Ren, for all that she knows he’s involved in (which, to be fair, isn’t much but boy does she have some suspicions about her Trickster), has always exuded a distinct energy and confidence in all he does. His astuteness, his cleverness have both conspired to perhaps lull Chihaya into a false sense of security. Seeing him now has deflated that sense nearly completely.

“Hey Chihaya,” he says breathlessly as he drops his shoulder bag to the ground. “How are you?”

She’s not entirely sure how to answer that. After all, it’s been something of a whirlwind for her lately. The ADP is in disarray, the Chairman ruined by the public confession that he’d given of his own volition. But she’s trying to help, trying to live up to her ill-begotten moniker.

“Maiden of Relief” indeed.

Ren has been supremely helpful, of course. He stops by often as they discuss what her next moves should be. He grounds her, he listens to her, and he helps sharpen her next steps into an actionable plan. Sometimes she wonders if he spends all this time with her because she’s, perhaps, special to him. Chihaya can’t ever say anything, even if he is, by his own admission, into “older women”. Besides, she’s put her hopes of acceptance with others before and, well, she and Ren just effectively collapsed the ADP, so…

She doesn’t really trust her instincts.

“I’m okay. I feel much better with helping the victims of the ADP than helping the ADP. But…”

Ren leans forward. “But?”

This is the closest that she’s come to admitting just how important he is to her, and the deep blush that is creeping up her neck and invading her cheeks is more than happy to betray her feelings. “But I, um, missyousometimes.”

Oh God, she actually said that. “Oh, drat,” she adds quickly.

But Ren leans back into the chair, crosses his arms, and hits her with that devastating smirk. He’s so handsome.

“Well, I wish I could stop by more often, too, but there are just…” he sighs and waves his hand like he can’t find the words.

Chihaya shakes her head; this isn’t want she wants. She doesn’t want to make him feel badly about this. She doesn’t want to make him feel badly about anything. He’s so good.

“Ren,” she begins, “it’s okay. I’m just being selfish.”

He makes a face like he wants to protest, but instead he just sighs. “Anyway…I…can I just get an affinity reading?”

His eyes are on the table; they’re not on her. It’s so unlike him that Chihaya can’t help but notice. His reddening cheeks and the nervous way he runs his hand through his unruly hair manages to set her on edge. These little changes set her nerves alight. Something’s different, but she doesn’t have any clue what it might be. But then she thinks about his request - an affinity reading - and she realizes that he might be embarrassed because of the request itself. Who might he be trying to get closer to? If he’s embarrassed by it, is it someone he’s smitten with? Does he not want her to know?

“Of course, Ren. And…” how much does she reveal? “And you don’t have to be embarrassed by it, okay?”

His eyes widen, and his cheeks flush. “Oh. That’s not…I mean -”

Chihaya saves him, insisting that it’s fine (whatever “it” is), and that she can get started if he’s ready to. He nods and she sets her cards up, ready to deal.

“Here we go,” she murmurs.

She flips the final card to see the four part iconography of the Temperance arcana.

Immediately, Chihaya makes the connection, but this one feels different than the others. It’s darker, hidden, and the raw guilt is crushing. It’s cold against her skin, falling upon her like a December rain storm. Before her eyes is a classroom, but Chihaya doesn’t recognize anyone or anything in it.

It’s not Ren’s school.

Her vision goes dark except for one student near the back of the class, the world brought forth to her in a curving vignette. The student looks despondent, tired, and achingly uncertain. Her vision shifts and she’s watching a brown-haired woman, perhaps in her early twenties, and she’s wearing a simple white blouse over a dark denim skirt walking toward him. Her face is in shadow.

The scene shifts.

Chihaya is looking across a table at the student, who appears to be working diligently. His hair is disheveled and the bags that hang below his eyes are readily apparent. As he writes, he yawns, and there are words spoken that she can’t make out. He smiles at whatever was said.

The room darkens yet again, but she hears two sounds in quick succession. The first is the ringing of a phone call, and as soon as the line is picked up, the voices are garbled and echo and she can’t make anything out. Chihaya barely has time to register the click of the call ending when there’s a crash of metal and screaming - so ominous it makes her fists involuntarily clench against the table.

Then there’s darkness and the echoing sounds of high-heels clacking against tiled floor. Whispers accost her, warning her that it’s her fault, that she’s a murderer and that she has to pay. When the darkness lifts, the world is faded to gray. There’s no color anywhere to be found as the same woman has now traded her skirt and blouse for a maid’s uniform that’s striped in black and white like old-time prison uniforms. Hands reach out to the woman from the shadows and grope at her, reaching for her thighs, her breasts, anywhere they can grab onto. She feebly tries to knock them away, but she grows weary, oh so weary and Chihaya chokes up at the flood of tears that run down the woman’s hidden face and pool onto the floor. Chihaya gets the distinct impression that she is ready to give up and just let them have her. It’s so much pain; too much pain and Chihaya severs the connection with shuddering breaths.

When she pulls out of it completely, Chihaya has to stop herself and take stock for a moment. Ren is leaning forward in his chair, contemplative with his elbows on his knees and his eyes focused on the ground. She closes her eyes again as a thought from out of the blue infiltrates her mind.

Why had the connection felt so damn intense? The first one hadn’t too taxing, the second was relatively tame too. But the last one? This one? It felt like she’d been kicked by a mule. And now? Well, Chihaya is pretty sure she wants to throw up. But why…?

“Chihaya, are you all right?”

She holds up a hand. She needs to think. Just what do they have in common?

‘They’re women’ shouts the intrusive thought that crashes into her head. It’s so much more intense because they’re women. And Ren, the women, or both, have such a deep connection because there are intense feelings between them. The kind of feelings that Chihaya thinks mean so much more than…well, friendship. And that means that…

It means…

Oh no.

The fortune teller feels a little sick when she realizes what she’s feeling. Normally, she’s strictly felt a sense of understanding with the subject of Ren’s request. But now?

But now?

She’s - God help her - she’s jealous. Chihaya looks up at him, and Ren stares at her. He still looks a little lost, but there’s a desperate hopefulness in his eyes. He scratches the back of his neck.

“Um…well?”

Jealous anger flashes inside her. It’s so new and raw that it’s overwhelming - even in its infancy. Chihaya hasn’t had a crush on someone in years, probably not since her first year of high school back in her hometown. But now? Well, she’s been helping Ren so much, and she looks forward to his visits so much, but the embarrassed way he’s approached the evening (coupled with the suspicion that the connection tonight was with his teacher who moonlights as a maid) informs her in no uncertain terms that his heart isn’t aimed at her, but aimed at this other hussy.

Into older women, indeed.

This has to stop. She’s been childish, and allowed her personal feelings to get in the way of providing a service. That’s all she is: a service.

“It worked, Amamiya-kun.”

His eyes widen and she knows that he caught the reversion to honorifics. Good.

“Oh…well, that’s uh, good.” He swallows. “Chi-”

“I think ‘Mifune-san’ is more appropriate. After all, you’re my client.”

He frowns and tries to protest. “Look, you know that’s not true. We’re friends, aren’t we? What’s got you so -”

“Upset? Nothing, Amamiya. I just realized that we’ve become too ‘familiar’ with each other, and I think it’s affecting my ability to read your fortunes.”

It’s a lie, a damnable lie, and she knows it. She’s also pretty sure Ren - no, Amamiya - knows it, too. But an overly reactive defense is barking the orders now, and it’s telling her to reset the boundaries with this…this…Trickster.

“It’s getting late,” she says.

“You should get going,” she says.

Chihaya does her best to ignore the way Ren’s shoulders slump when she rebuffs his protests a final time.

She does her best to ignore the burning desire to cry as he disappears into the throng of people that mill about Shinjuku tonight.

V. Fortune

Autumn has definitely arrived in Tokyo, and the temperature matches Chihaya’s recent mood: cold and dreary.

She’s pouring herself a cup of coffee one morning when she realizes with more than a touch of surprise that it’s been two solid weeks since she last saw Re…Amamiya. It isn’t like she doesn’t think about his absence, it’s just that she aches so heavily with sadness that she can only quantify it one day at a time. She misses him on Monday, then on Tuesday, then Wednesday…then one morning she wakes up and it’s been two whole weeks. At the realization, she stares into her mug of coffee, searching for answers.

She’s given nothing but inanimate silence.

When she works her table at night, she checks her phone for messages from him, is disappointed that there aren’t any, but then can’t bring herself to reach out to him herself. After all, she has to protect herself from the feelings that she’d bottled up inside her. It’s about self-preservation at this point because, let’s face it, she’s not exactly an expert in (God help her) love. All she knows is that she’s allowed herself to be achingly vulnerable with him, and she can’t bear to be near Ren (Amamiya, damn it!) when it would be so easy to let down her guard again. Not when she knows the truth.

Chihaya wraps her scarf a bit more tightly to fend off the cold. After finishing up with a regular client of hers, she hears a hesitant clearing of a throat. She looks up and -

There he is. There he is in his glasses and his blue jeans and his gray jacket, looking at her with trepidation. He pushes his glasses up his nose, huffs a breath that escapes him in a silvery whisp, and his trepidation morphs into something more like determination. The change makes her heart skip a beat and her stomach twist.

Chihaya reminds herself that it means nothing. He’s a client.

He stands in front of her table, looking resolute. “Chihaya,” he greets seriously.

She raises her chin defiantly. “It’s ‘Mifune-san’. Please take a seat, Amamiya.” She gestures to the chair on the other side of the table.

“Right,” he mumbles with a frown.

He sits down with a frown on his face for a few seconds, then he takes a deep breath. Chihaya is both dismayed and somehow heartened to see his little smirk appear once again. Amamiya runs a hand through his hair then looks her squarely in the eyes with an expression that she simply can’t figure out. He tells her that he needs another affinity reading, and Chihaya stamps down on her feelings of jealousy. There’s nothing to be jealous of, she thinks, he’s just a client. She wishes that was true; maybe someday it will be. Maybe someday it won’t matter.

“Of course, Amamiya,” she says coolly as she deals the cards. Chancing a glance up at him, Chihaya realizes that he’s watching her with an odd sort of intensity, then he closes his eyes with a deep breath. He’s concentrating, just like he should. She flips the card over.

Fortune.

Fortune.

Chihaya barely has a chance to notice what’s happening when the connection barrels into her.

Later, she would realize that this connection is the most intense one yet - everything feels bright and brimming with feeling and emotion and passion. Chihaya feels like she’s being wrapped in sunlight. She had never even considered what it would be like to be both the conduit and the target of an affinity reading, and it’s easily the most overwhelming thing she’s ever experienced. Before, it’s always been her peering into the secrets of whomever Ren needed to be closer to, but now…?

But now she’s seeing into the depths of Ren himself. She barely registers the thought that she’ll have to think about why that is a bit later, but Chihaya is at least able to do that much. Before she knows it, she’s standing in a nearly-deserted street, walking aimlessly behind a lanky teen boy in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. A flash and then she’s looking over Ren’s shoulder at a bald man (that she swears she’s seen somewhere before), then behind her at a scared woman desperately trying to figure out the right thing to do.

Then handcuffs.

Then cell bars.

Parents that have given up on him. Friends that have forsaken him.

A stranger in a strange land. He’s all alone, an outcast in a world that he doesn’t understand.

'You are a prisoner of fate…'

Images and impressions flash before Chihaya so quickly she can’t consciously keep up. There’s a castle, a predator-king; a father-figure, a betrayer; a sister, a disappointment; a girl, a tomb.

At the center of it all, the glue holding it all together is the Trickster, the Wild Card…Ren. Throughout it all, the world - his world - has been cast in a veneer of shadow. Lights are less bright, colors less vibrant than they should be.

They stand before a maze that looks quite a lot like the sprawling metropolis of Tokyo, but it’s more foreboding. The buildings grow and twist, the streets curve in ways that the city planners never intended. Amongst the dark, she can hear the scratching of shadows and evil, their nails grinding on cold pavement. Ren looks over his shoulder, through her, and she then notices that he’s now wearing a long black coat, black pants and boots, and a pair of flamboyant red gloves. His grin is adventurous and full of righteousness. But there’s a question in his eyes. He’s full of bravado while putting on his mask, but when his gaze returns to the front, there’s a brilliant, white light cutting through the shadows.

The light moves away from them. Ren follows.

So does Chihaya.

They follow the light as it twists and turns past an arcade, past a table with what she thinks is a shogi board laying on top. The light passes an open classroom and an airsoft shop. She’s positive she sees the neon sign of the bar near her table in Shinjuku - Crossroads, it says. The light guides them through countless other places that Chihaya is certain holds significance to Ren. They follow this brilliant light that she realizes is exuding such warmth that it feels hot even though it’s early October.

The light moves faster, its pace and movement more frenetic. Ren has to jog to keep up, Chihaya has to outright run. They turn left, then right. Left again, and the light speeds ahead into an open area and stops.

Chihaya gasps.

She’s looking at her table. She’s looking at herself. The light flits about for a moment before it moves toward this Chihaya - the Chihaya of Ren’s consciousness. She absorbs it.

The Chihaya that was pulled into this connection stares, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at the one inside Ren’s mind. She can only watch as he walks to her table and sits down, shrugging off his long coat and breathing a sigh of relief. “Light-Chihaya” grasps his hands gently and smiles. Ren looks back over his shoulder and smiles at her - the “real” Chihaya - before looking meaningfully back at Light-Chihaya. He’s conveying a message.

Before she can discern what it is, the connection breaks.

Chihaya opens her eyes, and her whole body feels utterly boneless. Her mind is both racing and also completely inert. It takes her several seconds to realize that Ren is kneeling in front of her, holding one of her hands and looking at her with wide, concerned eyes. She notes how pretty they look and then sees that -

“Y’all took yer glasses off!”

He blinks once, twice. A grin erupts on Ren’s face before he starts laughing. “That…that’s what you notice first?” He’s still laughing and wiping tears from his eyes when Chihaya does the same - a grin then laughter that she can’t control.

Their laughter sounds like the way sunshine feels on her skin, the way her mother’s voice used to sing like birdsong in her ear, the way fresh strawberries taste and splash on her tongue. When it finally dies down, Chihaya sits up in her chair, and Ren returns to his. He looks at her with questioning eyes, but waits for her to speak.

She takes a deep breath, but she’s not sure where to begin. Eventually, Chihaya decides that just starting can’t hurt - she’ll figure out the rest as she goes.

“I saw you,” she begins tentatively. “I saw you from…before. Before you came to Tokyo.” A realization hits her. “You were blamed for something you didn’t do…when you were just trying to help.” She thinks of her own plight: the way she was discarded from her own village, the way her own parents had practically disowned her. She had only been trying to help, too. “And you were forced to come here, alone and fearful.” He nods slowly, perhaps realizing their similarities. “I saw you in…behind bars, but not jail. It was strange.” She closes her eyes, concentrating. “Prisoner of fate,” she murmurs. A quiet gasp escapes Ren. “You’ve helped so many people, haven’t you? And…and then…

“There was a maze…of Tokyo, but not. It was frightening, but there was a light. You…we,” she corrects, “followed it through the maze until…” she dumbly grabs his hand. “You found me. You found me,” she repeats in utter disbelief. Chihaya is starting to put it together now.

Ren looks away, pensive. He appears to be deep in thought, but he doesn’t pull his hand back.

“I see,” he replies after a prolonged silence. “So, because I wanted you to understand me, you think that’s why you saw what you did?”

She nods, still a bit overwhelmed. Ren’s onto something, yes, but another thought strikes her. It’s a thought that might explain the sheer intensity of her visions. It’s such a simple thing that she nearly laughs, because maybe…maybe she had just gotten better at doing it. Maybe she had been able to see and feel more because she simply became more proficient. Her face burns with embarrassment now, ashamed of her jealousy. Before Ren can respond to what must be a rather incredible blush, she finally answers him because she has a theory about that and Ren’s probably close to the truth. “Yes.” Chihaya finds his eyes and doesn’t look away. “I think you wanted to show me. You wanted me to understand everything.”

“Even…?”

“That you’re a Phantom Thief. That you…that you care for me. As more than a friend.” Chihaya forms a broad, giddy smile around those last words.

Looking away, he blows out a long breath and runs his fingers through his hair again. He nods slowly, as if confirming both truths to her. “Wow. Yeah.” When Ren looks at her again, there’s a hint of a soft, fond smile on his face. “I do care for you, Chihaya. As more than a friend. Does that bother you?”

It’s curious that the “Phantom Thief” revelation doesn’t seem to have bothered him at all.

Her heart clenches in delight. How can she possibly be jealous of anyone, now that she knows? Chihaya feels her mouth morph into a smile. “Not at all. Why would it?”

At that he sputters, unable to give a real answer. “I…” he chuckles quietly, “I don’t know?”

Her grin becomes so much brighter as an idea hits her. “Ren, would you…would you like to come back to my place?”

Seconds pass before his brows raise in question.

Oh no, she must have still managed to bungle this whole thing! Darn it! Her face heats up again and she looks at anything but him.

“Oh! I mean, er, you know! To just have…oh goat’s balls,” she wails.  “I done cocked this whole thing up like I was tryin’ to pull eggs from a rooster!” Chihaya takes a deep breath and tries again. “Would you like to come back to my place and watch the game tonight? I-it’s Saturday, so…um…no school tomorrow,” she trails off weakly.

Ren looks back at her in wonder, his eyes betray nothing. Morbidly, Chihaya is convinced that she’s made some egregious error in judgment. Despite everything she felt and saw, she thinks that she’s still managed to misread him. Her stomach is roiling and her blush is so intense that she has to cover her face with her hands and she thinks -

“I’d love to,” he answers gently as he tries to pluck her fingers from her face. “I’ll just message Boss that I’ll be back tomorrow. He won’t really care, as long as he knows that I’m not out causing trouble.” He grins wickedly. “I’ll just tell him it’s about a girl, and he’ll practically cheer me on.”

“R-really?” She peers at him from between her fingers.

Warm hands clasp gently around her wrists; Chihaya stills as she allows those hands to pull hers away from her face. Ren’s there, smiling like the sun as his eyes shine with mirth and fondness and maybe -

The next thing she knows is that she feels soft lips on hers and she hums into the kiss. It’s too quick, in her opinion, and barely there, but it holds so much promise and he’s answering her with another kiss.

The jerk.

He angles his head slightly so their mouths slot together perfectly. Chihaya immediately responds by looping her arms around his neck. She’s idly aware that his hands find her waist. It’s not her first kiss - not technically - but it might as well be, for all the power it holds. A hand leaves her waist and cups her jaw and she’s never felt so cared for, so lo-

He pulls away slightly, grinning with unmasked affection. Chihaya groans a little at the loss of contact. “Really,” he answers.

“Oh,” she murmurs, her fingers touching her lips. “Oh!”

Chihaya has never packed up her table and cards so quickly in her life.

Ren messages Boss that he won’t be back tonight, laughing as Chihaya pulls him by the hand all the way to her apartment.

She puts on the baseball game.

They don’t watch it.

They don’t care.