Work Text:
CHOOSE ONE OF MY FIVE FINGERS!
Disclaimer: Spy x Family © Tatsuya Endo, inspired by an episode of Kocchi Muite! Miiko © Ono Eriko
Republishing or copying this work for AI training purposes is strictly prohibited.
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“Anya, you have to try this!”
Becky chatted with Anya during the class break, looking excited.
"Yesterday, one of my maid went to a fortune-teller and told me about this," Becky said, her tone excited. She went on, "She said we can find out what others think of us by which finger they choose!"
Becky pointed to her hand, focusing on her fingers. "Hold your hand out to them, then ask them to pick one of your fingers," she instructed. "The pinky means ‘hate,’ the ring finger means ‘don’t really like,’ the middle finger means ‘neutral,’ the forefinger means ‘like,’ and the thumb means ‘love’!" She urged, "Anya, you have to try this on Damian!"
Anya started to get interested. It seemed like this would let her know how Plan B was progressing.
Do an evaluation, just like Papa often does with Lady Boss!
Just then, Damian, along with Emile and Ewen, walked into the classroom. Anya quickly stood up and approached Damian, holding out her hand.
“Sy-on Boy! Choose one of my fingers!" Anya exclaimed to Damian, her voice loud enough for nearby students to hear.
Damian immediately furrowed his brow. “Huh? What’s this all about?”
"Just pick one already!" Anya urged Damian again, her insistence clear in her tone.
Wow, Anya is so brave...
Anya heard Becky’s distant thoughts and grinned. As a peacekeeper, she had to be brave.
Ewen shouted at Anya, “Hey, don’t mess with Young Master Damian, you commoner!”
Emile chimed in, supporting Ewen, "Yeah! Don’t bother him with your weird games!"
Damian rolled his eyes, hesitated, then chose the finger she least expected.
He picked Anya’s thumb.
“KYAAAAAAAAAA!!!” Becky shrieked, her hands flying to her crimson cheeks. Anya, meanwhile, stood rooted to the spot, her expression frozen in pure disbelief.
Becky rushed over and hugged Anya. "Anya, congratulations! You’re amazing!"
Damian exclaimed, clearly surprised, “HEY! What’s wrong with you?!”
Without warning, Becky blurted out the meaning of each finger’s choice. “...the forefinger means ‘like,’ and the thumb means ‘love’! That means you love Anya, Damian!”
Damian froze. His face turned bright red. He struggled for words.
“W-what… do you mean… ugh…”
Damian finally shouted loudly at Anya, "I-I DIDN’T CHOOSE THE PINKY BECAUSE YOU USUALLY USE IT TO PICK YOUR NOSE, DAMN IT!"
Anya, hearing Damian’s words, frowned in annoyance and retorted, "I use my forefinger to pick my nose."
“EXACTLY! FINALLY YOU ADMITTED IT, YOU PICK-NOSE GIRL!”
Anya and Damian finally got into a heated argument. Meanwhile, Becky could only sigh.
“Oh my gosh, they’re always like this…”
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“Papa, Mama, Becky taught Anya a fun game at school earlier.”
Loid and Yor, just after clearing the dinner table, turned to Anya.
“Wow, what game, Anya? It sounds interesting,” Yor said with a smile.
"How to play… Mama, try pointing your hand toward Papa," Anya asked Yor, describing the game's next step.
"Like this?" Yor asked as she held out her hand with all five fingers extended toward Loid.
"Now, Papa. Pick one of Mama’s fingers," Anya prompted Loid, gesturing to Yor's hand.
Loid carefully studied Yor’s fingers, making her a little nervous. Anya used her esper powers to hear her parents’ thoughts.
Loid looked very serious. Could it be that he saw a trace of blood on my fingernails, a remnant of the person I killed earlier? But I’m sure I washed my hands thoroughly!
Meanwhile, her father’s thoughts were even more complicated.
What is this? A children’s game? A trick question? A personality test? One of those new psychological tests? Whatever it is, I’ll just go along with it for now. But which finger should I choose? The pinky looks tiny, so it’s a good fit. The ring finger is usually used for wedding rings. The middle finger? No, that’s not good for children. Is the forefinger the most dominant of all the fingers? Or the thumb, the main finger? Losing a thumb is indeed the most critical thing. Many people struggle to perform normal activities after their thumb is amputated. But losing the forefinger can also make it difficult to pull a gun’s trigger—
"Papa, don’t overthink it, just pick one," Anya grumbled; reading his mind always gave her a headache.
Loid nodded. Finally, Loid’s hand grasped one finger—Yor’s forefinger.
"The forefinger, huh..." Anya grinned. "Looks like Papa and Mama are still shy about flirting..."
Loid and Yor were immediately startled. “What do you mean, Anya?”
"Becky said her maid heard this from a fortune-teller," Anya explained. "It supposedly reveals people’s feelings: pinky is ‘hate,’ ring ’don’t like,’ middle ‘neutral,' forefinger ‘like,’ thumb ‘love.’"
Yor's face flushed. She covered her mouth.
Loid looked just as surprised. A flush of red spread across his face. He countered, "Anya, you can’t trust what a fortune-teller says! That’s completely illogical!"
Anya was still grinning as she said, "I tried it with Sy-on Boy earlier, and he chose the thumb…"
What?! Even though things like this have no logical basis, is this a sign that Plan B is going smoothly?
“…but he said he didn’t pick the pinky because that finger is used for picking one’s nose. Whereas I use my forefinger when I pick my nose…” Anya continued matter-of-factly.
Ah, you’re hoping for too much, Twilight. There’s no way Damian Desmond would fall in love with a kid who picks her nose as she does…
"LOID! M-MY FOREFINGER IS CLEAN! I DON’T USE IT TO PICK MY NOSE OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT!" Yor shouted in a panic.
"So does Mama use her pinky to pick her nose?" Anya asked Yor.
“ANYA! PICKING THE NOSE IS IMPOLITE!”
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That night, as Anya lay in bed, her parents’ thoughts were noisier than usual, especially her mother’s.
LOID LIKES ME! LOID LIKES ME! No, Yor… don’t get too excited just yet. Loid’s right—you can’t trust what a fortune-teller says. Besides, this is just “like,” not love. B-but what if it’s true? What if Loid really does like me?!
Meanwhile, her father’s thoughts were calmer, but still the same.
Anya’s just being weird, inviting Yor and me to play a game from a fortune-teller of unknown origin. On top of that… do I like Yor?
Haha… no, that’s impossible. There’s no way you have feelings for Yor, Twilight. She’s just part of the mission; how could I possibly have such silly feelings for Yor?
“Dizzy. It’s been an hour since Papa’s been repeating that phrase in his head…”
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THE END