fic for astrangestorm!

[nino_mod]

For: astrangestorm
From: :3.

Title: Cartomancy
Pairing/Focus: Sakumiya
Rating: G
Word count: 2783
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Nino runs a tea shop and tells fortunes.
Notes: Dear astrangerenters, I hope you enjoy reading this little story as much as I enjoyed writing it for you <3


Tokyo’s a bustling metropolis, as it’s always been, but the relaxation of the rules on running magical businesses several years ago has shifted the culture of the city. Takeshita Street now has shops selling potions and second-hand glamours amongst the crepes and street fashion. Yanaka Ginza boasts the highest number of tsukumogami stores outside Kyoto. Temples and shrines advertise the magical properties of their wares more openly than before. And in Asakusa, a plethora of fortune-tellers have sprung up, but none of them seem to last long. Everyone knows that they’re all charlatans, piggy-backing on the popularity of the wise priestess and true seer, Ishihara Satomi of Sensou-ji.

But among the constantly changing shopfronts of Asakusa, one store seems to remain. A tiny, one-room tea house, where Ninomiya Kazunari (Nino to his friends) serves up tea and tells fortunes.

He doesn’t advertise. Photos are banned, so he’s not popular on Instagram. The storefront is unassuming; on the ground floor of a concrete apartment building, with a large window and a wooden front door. The shop sign is decorated with heart, diamond, club and spade motifs, and the name of his establishment: Tea Mysteries.

It’s a grey, cool autumn day in late October. Nino rearranges the scarf around his neck and pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his hands as he steps off the train at Asakusa. It’s a short walk from the station to the street of fortune-tellers, and he breathes in the crisp air, enjoying the breeze. Orange and red leaves eddy around his feet.

Unlocking the front door and turning the sign in the window to read “In preparation”, Nino flicks on the lights and smiles as he looks over his shop.

Tea Mysteries consists of a single room with wood-panelled walls and thick, velvety carpet. Half a dozen or so large, plush armchairs are scattered around the room, along with three stools at a short counter, behind which Nino and his assistant prepare the teas. A blackboard on one wall lists the ever-changing brews, while a small glass cabinet on the counter holds an assortment of pastries and sweets, delivered each day from Patisserie Ohno. The walls are covered with vintage posters and curios, fairy lights are strung across the ceiling, and there’s a cultivated feeling of relaxation and comfort.

Nino loves it here. He hadn’t meant to be here for so long -- like the other fortune-tellers around him, he’d only planned to capitalise on Ishihara’s popularity -- but when his customers kept coming back, and his fortunes seemed to be more accurate than others… well, steady income is steady income, and Nino likes having a healthy bank balance.

The period before opening the store for the morning customers is his favourite time of day. The city is waking up, temple bells ringing and passers-by peering in the window. Behind the counter, Nino pulls out tins of tea leaves and spices, inhaling the pleasant tannic scent. He arranges glass teapots on iron trivets, little tea light candles to keep the tea warm, and mismatched cups ranging from delicate French porcelain to traditional Japanese pottery vessels.

Once the tea cups and pots are organised, Nino fishes a deck of ordinary playing cards from his pocket. He cuts the deck and shuffles, then pulls three cards.

“Hmmm. Interesting,” Nino murmurs to himself. In front of him lie the Joker, the King of Clubs, and the Six of Hearts. “A fool, a dark-haired, generous man, and a new interest, that’s not subtle at all.” Sweeping the drawn cards back into the deck, Nino runs a hand through his hair and grabs a dishcloth, wiping down the little wooden tables in front of each armchair.

Next to the cash register is a coat stand with a neatly pressed button down shirt and apron hanging on it. Nino shrugs off his sweater and t-shirt, and slips on the shirt. The apron, with an embroidered motif of the four suits of playing cards surmounted by a teacup, goes over the top.

The cafe is spotless and ready, but there’s still another hour before he opens up. Nino’s settled on a stool behind the old-fashioned brass cash register and playing a game on his phone when a reminder pops up: “Quarterly Licence Renewal Visit”.

All magical premises are licenced, so the city can keep track of the various purveyors of enchanted goods, and fortune-telling is no exception. Nino sends his forms in advance, and hasn’t had any issues, so the visit is usually just a formality, but it’s still a bit of a drag.

With a sigh, Nino puts his phone back in his pocket, and sure enough, exactly fifteen minutes later at 9.30am on the dot, the bell over the front door rings out. A dark-haired, serious-faced man wearing a grey suit, carrying a leather briefcase and a black umbrella enters and Nino narrows his eyes: this isn’t his usual inspector.

“Welcome to Tea Mysteries, Sakurai Sho,” Nino says, and gestures at the armchairs. “Please take a seat.”

Sakurai Sho bows, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “So, do you research your customers in advance as well, to impress them with your fortune-telling skills?” he asks, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase and placing them on the table as he sits.

With a smirk, Nino sits in the chair opposite. “No, Sakurai-san, I can just read. You’re wearing an ID badge.”

Sho looks down at the lanyard around his neck that holds his ID badge, stating him to be a Senior Inspector of Magical Licences, Taito District, and looks a little embarrassed. “You have good eyesight,” he acknowledges. “Well, I have your renewal forms here, and everything seems to be in order, so I’ll just need to do a quick inspection of the premises and sign it off.”

Nino leans forward, flicking through the papers. “Where’s Keiko-chan? She’s been doing my licence round for the last five years now.”

“Ah, Kitagawa-san? She married recently, and has moved districts, to Minato, so I’ve taken over her area. Plus they needed someone a bit more senior, to keep an eye on the, erm, more devious characters in Asakusa.”

Nino raises an eyebrow. “Devious characters?”

“We-ell, this area does have a bit of reputation, Ninomiya-san. You know,” Sho says, letting his judgement of Asakusa’s fortune-tellers hang unspoken in the air.

With a bland smile, Nino tilts his head to one side. “A reputation? For what?”

“Oh come on. You’ve been here for years now, surely you’ve seen how many fortune-tellers cycle through this area, they’re all fakes,” Sho says, getting to his feet. Nino pouts, pretending to be offended, and Sho quickly raises his hands in a gesture of apology. “Although I’m sure you’re not, Ninomiya-san! I didn’t mean to suggest that… oh, bother.”

Nino grins suddenly. “It’s fine, Sakurai-san, I’m just teasing. I know Asakusa’s reputation as well as anyone. Who knows, maybe I’m a fake as well,” he says, leading Sho behind the counter and to the small kitchen. Sho checks the space, noting that the tea preparation space is well separated from workbench where Nino prepares his fortunes -- not that it’s a complex operation, Nino thinks to himself. A few decks of cards, paper and pens are all he uses, and if he’s honest with himself, he probably doesn’t even need those to tell accurate fortunes. In contrast, some of the more flamboyant fortune-tellers cover up their deficiencies with trinkets and distractions. Like Maruyama and Yasu next door, who run The Crystal Pavilion and claim to predict the future using the thousands of “sacred crystals” scattered throughout their shop. Nino knows that they order their crystals in bulk from a wholesaler online, but he won’t let on -- they’re fun to have around.

“I never meant to imply--” Sho starts, but Nino interrupts him.

“Truly, it’s fine, Sakurai-san. I’m just messing with you.” Sho looks relieved as he flips through the papers to check off his findings, then pulls out a seal, stamps his name, and passes the papers to Nino.

Nino rifles in his pocket for his own seal, stamps next to his name, and hands the papers back. Sho blushes as Nino accidentally-on-purpose trails his fingers along Sho’s hand.

“A nice, unbroken life line,” Nino observes, taking Sho’s hand in both of his. He traces his index finger along Sho’s palm, and Sho shivers ever so slightly.

“You know, I’m not sure I really believe in fortune-telling, Ninomiya-san,” Sho says, stumbling over his words a little as Nino squeezes his hand. “And your licence is for cartomancy, not palmistry.”

“I promise I never read the palms of paying customers,” Nino replies, eyes dancing with amusement. “Tell you what. Come to Tea Mysteries tonight after we close and I’ll do a reading for you. With cards. On the house, of course. And you can make up your own mind.”

“It would be a conflict of interest, unfortunately,” Sho says, shaking his head. “I shall see you in three months time, Ninomiya-san.” He picked up his briefcase and turns to leave.

“I suspect I’ll see you much sooner that, Sakurai-san,” says Nino with a grin.

Sho gives him a confused look, but shrugs, and bows politely before exiting the store.

It’s another half an hour before Nino is due to open up, so he makes himself a cup of tea (Assam blended with orange and cardamom), and returns to playing games on his phone. His assistant, Ryoma, arrives, shrugging on an apron and apologising profusely for being late.

“I’m so sorry Nino, the trains were delayed, and I was stuck at --”

“Don’t even worry about it, Ryoma. Don’t you remember yesterday, I said to catch an earlier train?” Nino reminds him.

Ryoma smacks the heel of his palm against his forehead. “I forgot that you can do this stuff without the cards,” he replies, chagrined. “I’m always wondering why you don’t go join up with Ishihara, or move to a more reputable magic district like Ginza, though,” Ryoma says, opening a drawer and pulling out several different colours of chalk.

“Have you seen how Ishihara gets mobbed whenever she’s outside the temple? I like my anonymity. And Ginza is too glitzy for me. Can you imagine my little fortune teller tea shop next to something like Matsumoto’s Palais de Sorcellerie, with his fancy potions and spells?” Nino asks, shaking his head as he names the most famous store selling magical wares in Tokyo.

Ryoma stifles a snort as he picks up his chalks and starts writing up the day’s tea blends on the blackboard.

By 10am, there’s a short queue outside, and Nino flicks the sign to read “Open”. As the customers enter, they each hand Ryoma a folded slip of paper with a single question written on it. Nino instituted the rule of a single enquiry per customer per visit, after quickly realising how time-consuming it was write out answers to multiple questions, back and forth. He also set a one hour time limit, and each table has a small hourglass that Ryoma tips when the customers take a seat.

Ryoma brews and serves the teas, carrying trays of steaming teapots and lighting the tealight candles to keep the tea warm. Nino sits at the workbench behind the counter and starts on the first round of fortunes. Shuffling his favourite deck of cards, well-worn and slightly faded, Nino cuts the deck in three stacks, and flips the first card on each, then takes the first slip of paper from the pile Ryoma left on the workbench.

“Will I get the job?” Nino murmurs to himself, and looks his cards. Eight of Clubs, two of Spades, Queen of Spades. Picking up a pen, Nino closes his eyes and lets his mind drift for a moment, contemplating the question. It usually takes less than a minute before he’s confident of his answer, scribbling a response. “You will get the job, but your new boss may be a challenging character. Tread carefully.”

Nino works through the pile of slips, shuffling and cutting the deck anew with each query, and when he’s worked through all the current customers and handed off the slips to Ryoma to deliver, he leans back in his chair and stretches, wincing as his back cracks. Looking at the clock, he sighs. Two more sessions to go before they take a break for an hour at lunchtime, then they’ll work through the afternoon until closing time at 6.00pm.

The teashop is a relaxing place to be, quiet but for the noise of clinking teacups, the hiss of steam as Ryoma fills the teapots, the rattling of coins at the cash register and the tinkle of the bell over the door as customers enter and leave. Nino ducks out during the break to eat at a local ramen stand, run by his old friend Aiba, and stops at Patisserie Ohno for a chat and to pick up more chocolate croissants.

Nothing of interest happens during the afternoon, except that Ryoma has to leave early for a date (which Nino teases him about until Ryoma is blushing scarlet right to his hairline), so Nino takes responsibility for serving the last few customers and tidying up the shop.

Flipping the sign on the door to “Closed”, Nino turns the music up a little louder, and collects the few remaining dirty tea cups and plates to wash up. Once done, he shrugs off his apron and changes his button down for the t-shirt and sweater he’d worn that morning. He hums along to the music as he dries the teacups and puts them away. Because the store is so small, it doesn’t take long to finish the vacuuming and put all the stools and chairs are neatly back in their proper places. Nino pulls out his phone, and checks the time - just after 6:45pm.

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Nino mutters to himself, and sinks down in one of the armchairs and starting another round of Puzzle & Dragons. Outside, the sky turns dark as night falls, the streetlamps lighting up and people hurrying home from work. It’s started to rain, lightly, but still very cold, although not quite chilly enough for snow.

And sure enough, just after 7.00pm, as Nino expected, he spots a familiar, dark-haired man peering in the window, with a chagrined look on his face.

Grinning, Nino jumps out of the armchair and opens the door, the bell ringing to let Sakurai Sho inside. His hair is slightly damp from the misty rain, and he blushes as Nino reaches behind him to pull the door closed.

“Well, if it isn’t the Senior Inspector himself,” Nino says, unable to resist a little smirk as Sho rubs the back of his neck.

“Ah, hello, Ninomiya-san. It seems your prediction was accurate, after all,” Sho replies, setting his briefcase down. He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out three cards -- the Ace of Hearts, the Eight of Hearts, and the Joker. “These had got caught up in my paperwork for Tea Mysteries, so I thought I’d best return them to you.”

“Well, these things happen for a reason, don’t they? Three cards, and I did promise you a reading. Allow me,” Nino says, fanning the three cards out and holding them in front of his face while giving Sho an exaggerated wink.

“I really shouldn’t,” Sho begins to protest, but Nino just places the cards against Sho’s mouth, silencing him. Sho blushes again as Nino flicks the cards and makes them seemingly disappear into thin air.

“Let me do it as a favour, since you so kindly came out of your way to return the cards,” Nino insists. “So… the Joker. A fresh start, or a new development.”

Folding his arms, Sho looks interested in spite of himself. “Well, I did just take over Taito-ku recently,” he says. “So that checks out.”

“Eight of Hearts. An invitation or a visit,” Nino continues. “Since you’re here, I think we can safely say that’s accurate.”

“I’m impressed, Ninomiya-san. Fine then, riddle me the last one, the Ace of Hearts,” Sho says.

Nino smiles, and steps closer, so he’s only mere inches away from Sho, who swallows visibly, but doesn’t step away.

“The Ace of Hearts,” Nino murmurs, flicking his fingers and making the card appear as if by magic, and slipping it in Sho’s blazer pocket. “The beginning of a new romance.”

“How astute,” Sho replies, and to Nino’s surprise, leans in and kisses him.

As Nino pulls Sho closer, returning the kiss, he smiles to himself. He’d dropped the cards in Sho’s briefcase, of course -- one can’t leave everything to chance.

~fin~