Work Text:
“Hey Chihaya,” Akira places both hands on the table with a grin. “How much yen do I have to let you steal from me to get you to say what I want? I did some side jobs and I do have much gold.”
For some reason, Chihaya does not look impressed by his extremely generous offer. If anything, she looks even more discouraged. “I’m not in the mood. Get lost.”
“Fine,” Akira squints. “I’ll go get robbed elsewhere.”
He’s about to leave when he hears a dramatic sigh coming from behind.
“What’s wrong with you people today?” Chihaya huffs in irritation, gesturing for Akira to sit down. “Just earlier today I had this guy ask for a reading, and when he heard what the cards had to say, he told me I can shove it. Then he kicked my table, said my hair makes me look like a drowned rat, that I dress like a deranged hippie, and he has no idea what people see in me.”
Channeling what we all want to say, Akira thinks but doesn’t dare to say out loud. Still, uncalled for. “Well, I love your hair. And I hope you kicked the guy’s ass. What did you even tell him?”
“That the love of his life likes him back!” Chihaya exclaims. “How can you not be happy about that?”
“Well, I would be,” Akira shrugs. “Speaking of readings, I want to ask about this one guy that—”
“Say no more,” Chihaya looks determined like she’s about to announce she’s going to solve all his problems and end poverty in her spare time. “I’m going to give you the best love fortune! A week from now you’re going to be married! Well, okay, maybe you’re a little young for that, but you won’t stay single for long with my sage guidance!”
“That’s actually not—” Akira sighs. “Whatever. Do your thing.”
He watches her spread out the cards, as Makoto’s voice rings through his head ‘This is our last resort, Akira. We need to know more about Akechi’s plans, and if we need to resort to…that, then well, Chihaya might be our best shot.’
She’s the last person he expected to suggest such a thing, but maybe things really do call for desperate measures.
Akira’s phone lights up with a message from Ryuji. He’s having a lunch with Yusuke who looks too well-dressed for a date with someone who owns two pairs of boxers. Akira hopes he gets laid anyway. They both deserve it as Akira's best friends.
“Okay, here I go,” Chihaya's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “The cards say…You’re going to meet someone dark, tall, and handsome!”
“That’s just my phone’s wallpaper,” Akira says, pointing at the screen because he totally caught her looking. “I don’t even like him that much. He looked hot as Grey Pigeon, but he’s pretty bad as an actor. I heard he’s kind of an asshole to his fans. I don’t want to meet that guy.”
She doesn’t let that discourage her. Akira can respect that. “Well, the cards say the dark, tall, and handsome man will be replaced by—“ She drops her voice in suspension as she uncovers the next card. “A brown-haired beauty!”
“This is getting ridiculous,” Mona mutters from his bag.
“Just because the lady here—“ Akira points at the card. “Has brown hair doesn’t mean I’ll meet someone like that. And are you sure Lovers stands for love?”
Chihaya’s eyes narrow at that. “It wouldn’t be called Lovers if it didn’t.”
“I saw the kid in my neighborhood play with My Little Pony cards the other day,” Akira recalls. “Good thing she wasn’t the one to do my reading, or I’d be getting railed by a horse.”
“Language!” Chihaya hisses. “You’re upsetting the cards.”
“Well, they’re upsetting me!” Akira snaps back. “What if I want to meet a short, nerdy guy? What if I don’t want to meet anyone at all? Does everything in this world have to revolve around dating? Damn, it’s not even what I came here to ask anyway.”
“Do your own reading then,” she hisses, arms crossed and refusing to meet his gaze. “Let’s see how much you’ve learned from being the assistant I could have asked for.”
“I’m pretty sure I can do a better job than you,” Akira mutters and swings the bag over his shoulder so hard he ends up spending an entire evening cleaning Mona’s puke.
He will apologize for being an asshole to the two of them if Akechi won’t kill him by then.
A week later Akira’s gathered everything he needs to get nothing short of an impeccable reading. The wind comes from the East (That’s for Mary Poppins, Haru chides him), candles all over—pink, because they smelled nice and he got them from Ann for free—and finally, a beautiful set of cards spread in front of him. The Tarot set is different from Chihaya’s, ensuring he won’t get railed by anyone who doesn’t strike his fancy—just in case she’s right about the Lovers card.
Akira tries to very much ignore the fact that, much like Chihaya, he doesn’t know shit about the Tarot. Well, he became the leader of the Phantom Thieves through instinct alone.
“Okay,” Akira rubs his hands together and sits cross-legged on the floor. “Cards, talk to me.”
“This isn’t an Oujia Board,” Mona notices helpfully from where he’s perched on Akira’s desk. “I don’t think the candles are necessary.”
Akira doesn’t answer, too busy staring at the cards.
The cards, in fact, do not stare back.
This really doesn’t bode well.
“Have you done this before?” Mona asks after a while. “I still think we should focus our efforts on more…reliable sources.
“I did Ryuji’s reading,” Akira opposes. “He was fine.”
“And what did the cards say?”
“That he will soon embark on a great journey,” Akira recalls. “Or that he will fall from a tall building. Cards can be unclear about these things.”
Mona swishes his tail. “And did he?”
“Uh, Ann sent him to the grocery store down the street,” Akira cowers under Mona’s gaze. “What? A journey starts with a single step and all that. He found a coin on the sidewalk.”
Mona’s gaze is stern enough to make Akira grab the cards and get his reading done elsewhere.
He ends up in the Metaverse. This is fine, he tells himself. At least he won’t be disturbed here, and he’s far from people who weaken his powers by not believing in him—Mona and Chihaya, the dynamic traitor duo.
Akira sits down on the Mementos floor and spreads the card in front of him. Unlike the time in the attic, he feels a strange sort of energy emanating from the cards—he’s pretty sure it’s not supposed to happen, even if you claim to be able to read cards. Thinking that taking Tarot cards to the Metaverse might not have been that great of an idea, after all, he closes his eyes and lets the energy flow through his fingertips. He flips one of the cards.
He hears a loud noise.
When he opens his eyes, he finds a Lovers card staring at him innocently from the floor. Standing right above it is less innocently looking Goro Akechi. He’s half-naked, much like the card in front of him, looking extremely pissed off, but his cheeks are stained lovely pink, so Akira can’t force himself to feel bad about it.
“What the hell is this?” he snarls. No fake pleasantries, no forced smiles—just pure, unhinged Goro Akechi. Akira would in fact marry him but he doesn’t want to admit Chihaya’s reading might have been correct all along.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells him. “Damn, I wish you were real.”
The Tarot Akechi raises his eyebrows. “Did you get hit by something? Confuse? Brainwash? Honestly, I can't tell anymore.”
Then he notices the cards on the ground, his eyes narrowing upon seeing Lovers. “No fucking way.”
“Well, it’s not that what I expected either,” Akira shrugs. “But since I summoned you here, you might as well answer some of my questions about Akechi. You’re a Tarot card, you’re supposed to know things, right?”
“You think that I’m—” Akechi says and then makes a face as if he bit his tongue. “You really don’t know much about the Tarot, do you?”
He puts his hands on his hips, calculating something. Akira is too distracted by his nipples to think about the consequences of Goro Akechi, real or not, scheming right in front of him.
“It’s only fair if we exchange information,” Tarot Akechi says finally. “You can ask your question but for every question you ask, I’ll ask one of my own. Do you find these terms agreeable?
Akira decides to stop staring at Akechi to gather his thoughts. Akechi caught him staring anyway. Akira nods because his sense of duty tells him he should at least get killed by the real Akechi, so he should avoid pissing his clone off.
“Very well,” Tarot Akechi says slowly, covering his chest. “What do you want to know?”
“First of all,” Akira pretends to be busy playing with the knife from his pocket to make the question appear more innocent. He fails, if Akechi's expression serves as an indication. “What are his intentions?”
“My—“ the apparition lets out a heavy sigh. “Akechi’s intentions towards you alone? You should be more specific.”
Akira meets Akechi’s eyes. They seem redder—bloodthirsty, sexy, his brain supplies—than the real Akechi’s but it might just be a trick of light. “Yes, his intentions. Whatever that may mean.”
“Naturally,” Akechi gives him a sadistic smile as he takes a step closer, stomping all over the cards. “He wants to kill you.”
“Oh,” Akira says. Maybe he should at least pretend he didn’t already know that because the Tarot Akechi seems upset at his lukewarm reaction. “That’s unfortunate. So you're saying he doesn’t want to rail me?”
Akechi grits his teeth so hard that apparition or not, Akira is worried they might fall out. Metaverse might suck when it comes to dental.
“That would be your second question,” his teeth are clenched so hard Akira barely understands the words. “It’s my turn now. Do you know Kant’s first formulation of the Categorical Imperative?”
“I—” Akira blinks. “What?”
“That’s your third question,” Tarot Akechi points out helpfully. “You’re still gawking, so I’m assuming you’re an imbecile just as expected. I get two more questions. Your mother’s occupation?”
“Uh,” Akira hesitates. At least he knows that much but he can’t help but think it’s a tricky question. “Housewife?”
“Wrong,” Tarot Akechi smiles. “She started working part-time at the local textile company and has an affair with the vice-director. They eloped yesterday. The third question—do you want to have sex with me?”
This is too stupid to happen, Akira’s brain rebels bravely.
We should run, it adds, quieter this time.
“Yeah,” Akira replies using the part of his body that is not his brain. “I really do.”
Tarot Akechi smiles—it looks genuine, and it looks like a smile real Akechi would have given him if he wasn’t too busy playing his ridiculous charades. “Close your eyes.”
He still looks too smug for Akira’s liking, but Akira decides to stay obedient just this once. It’s not like the real Akechi is ever going to find out about anything that happened. Akira deserves this—especially if he’s going to be shot dead in less than two weeks.
The apparition grabs his hair and forcibly closes the distance between them. He didn’t expect Akechi to be corporeal but then again, as it has been proven to him time and time again, he doesn’t know that much about the Tarot anyway.
“Keep them closed,” Tarot Akechi instructs. “If you open your eyes, I’ll disappear.”
Without wasting time, he unzips Akira’s pants. Akira's hands fly into the Tarot Akechi's hair. Akechi's mouth is too busy to ask him any more questions, and Akira can't think of anything either.
A few seconds later, he can barely tell Akechi’s name from a curse.
He wonders if the real Akechi doesn't have a gag reflex either.
The moment he’s back in the real world, Akira pulls out his phone and calls Ryuji.
“Ryuji,” Akira says in the tone of someone who’s about to be accused of being clinically insane. “I think I just got a blowjob from a Tarot card.”
“Nice,” says Ryuji because he’s Akira’s best friend, and he’s genuinely happy for him. He doesn’t even call him crazy. What a guy. “I’m at the hospital. Yusuke and I had sex, but I lost my balance when I was riding him and fell. I think my wrist might be broken.”
“Huh,” Akira says. “Tall buildings.”
Ryuji pauses on the other end. “What?”
“Nothing,” Akira coughs. “Take care of that wrist, and uh, have Yusuke take care of…other stuff. I really gotta go.”
He needs to check if the real Akechi is available.
Tarot cards, Akira finds, are wiser than people give them credit.