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English
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Published:
2022-08-24
Updated:
2022-08-24
Words:
1,227
Chapters:
1/?
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4
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don't look for me

Summary:

"i try to look at what's real, but it's hidden somewhere" - the 7th sense, nct u | in which one street magician discovers the truth behind the fantasy.

Chapter 1: my mom scolds me (as if i'm not twenty-two)

Chapter Text

The weatherman on the morning news said it’d rain tonight. Let’s hope only one of us can predict shit that easily, since I’ve got a gig at sunset, which is about, well, now. 

I’ve already got some music playing from the speaker I have set up under my table, and already someone’s stopped to compliment me on my taste. Based on their slightly-more-formal-than-necessary dress pants and white dress shirt, I guessed they must’ve been coming from work. And based on the age they appeared, and the fact that we shared an interest in Keshi, I guessed that they also must’ve liked kpop when they were younger.

I was right, now here I am. 

“You’re around, what, twenty-five?” 

The brunette nods. “So, third-gen? We got an EXO fan? BTS?” 

“Who isn’t these days?” 

That’s true. I shuffle my Svengali deck while I think, letting the smaller duplicate cards fall easily behind the larger real ones. “Second-gen, then.” A nod, a small smile as the crowd around us thickens. Perfect timing on their part. I set my cards aside, reach into the bag I have under the table. “Girls Generation? F(x)?” Their polite expression doesn’t budge. “Mm, I see.” Remembered where I put the pin just in time. 

Unclipping it from the inside of my bag, I slide it over the table, design side down. “A gift from me, for putting up with all of this.” The crowd laughs, a middle-aged white man with clothes far too nice for the Waikiki strip a little bit too loud. (My pepper spray’s in the side pocket of my purse, too.)

The office-woman nods, flips the badge over. Her eyes widen. “How’d you know?”

Keshi’s Blue fades off my speaker as the one by Big Bang starts up next. “A magician never tells.”

She pulls out her phone, and in the next instant, I’m getting a follow notification on Instagram.

Now’s not the time for social media, though. That can wait for when I get home. “Ladies and gentlemen.” My stool wobbles as I step onto it, and I can only hope and pray it doesn’t break like the last one I bought. “My name is Yoru, and I make my living by making people like you happy.”

While I speak, I scan the crowd, looking for the telltale glint of… nice. “You, there.” I don’t point, since in some cultures, it can be seen as rude. Instead, I hold out my hand, palm up. “With the camera.” The young man with curly hair steps forward, along with a girl with bleach blonde hair. “What do you say about helping me out for this next part?”

“Of course. I’ve seen your content. You’re cracked.” Can’t be older than my age, especially because I’ve got no clue what the fuck the guy just said. 

My smile doesn’t reach my eyes, but of course, he can’t see it. No one can, since I’m a masked street magician. “I’ll take that as a compliment…”

“Mark.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark.” I glance at the blonde girl. “Let me guess… A.” No reaction whatsoever. “Okay, okay. Skipping to… I?” She blinks hard, once. “J, K, L-” The corner of her lips twitches. “Lauren? Lia? Lindsey?”

“Lindsey."

Someone in the crowd whistles. “Nice to meet you as well, Lindsey. Have a seat, please.” They do, and I dribble through my deck one last time. “I’m going to clear this up before I start: while they have seen my apparently ‘cracked’ socials, neither Mark nor Lindsey have met me before. True?” 

They nod, thankfully not too fervently. “Perfect. Now you all know that there’s no way we could’ve planned this out beforehand.” The cards fall out of my hand, fanned out onto the table in front of me. “Hopefully you know what to do, Lindsey.” 

She does, and she reaches forward, taking one of the cards and shows it to the camera, as well as to Mark. “I’m going to ask you to show your card to the people behind you,” I ask, “Just so everyone knows you picked the five of hearts.” 

Mark gapes. Lindsey lets out an astonished laugh, and the crowd stares at me. It’s hard not to smile with reactions like that. “Don’t you worry your pretty minds. I’m just getting started.”


“For my last, and arguably best, trick…” I flip my deck over. “I’ll take this card…” Taking the top card, the three of spades, out, I show it quickly to the audience. “And wiggle it around back in the deck like this.” Only the corner goes in, and when I take it out, “Oh, shit. Now it’s the five of hearts.” 

The crowd cheers, and I dribble the cards back into my hand once more, revealing the duplicate fives. “Since you seem to like that card, I’ll just let you have ‘em all.” With that, I fan them all out onto the table in front of me. 

Mark’s the first to start clapping, then Lindsey. The rest of the onlookers follow suit. “Thank you. Once again, I’m Yoru. Thank you so much for watching!” 

Mostly everyone moves away. All except the person I’d spotted a while ago, wearing a dark jacket, their head kept down. “Care for a reading? A simple show?” 

Someone passes in front of them, and they’re gone. In their place is a single tarot card that comes fluttering down in their passing. 

Okay. First things first: the card could be laced. I’ve seen it happen, and it’s not pretty. So, I do what any sensible twenty-two year old street magician would do, and put on a glove. Somehow, no passerby tramples over it, so my gloved hand now holds the justice card. 

Fairness. Balance. That all things will come to pass as they should be, and not any way else. On the back is a single eye, a date, a time, and an address. 

March 29th,

4:44 PM.

45 East Evan Street,

NY, NY


Andrea Takashima, you seriously can’t be thinking of going to New York on the whim of a tarot card.” 

Those words coming from my street magician mother seem oxymoronic, to say the least. I stretch my legs out from underneath me as I formulate my response. Anymore sitting on the couch, and I’ll fall right asleep before I can even make it to my room. “Mom, you’d do the exact same thing if you were my age.”

A pause, which could either mean she’s about to capitulate- as she usually does- or I’m about to get my ass handed to me. “ I am not your age. But what I am is aware of how dangerous this is.” A gust of wind blows in through the open window, and I glance out at the Waikiki lights. 

“I’ll be fine, ma.” 

Another pause, and another moment of holding my breath, of contemplation. She has every right to be scared, honestly. My dad walked out on us when I was just born, so it would make sense that she wouldn’t want to let me out of her sight. Er, at least, past state lines. “ The card wasn’t laced ?” 

“Wasn’t sure, so I wore a glove.” 

Finally, finally , my mom heaves a sigh. “ Just be careful. Please.” 

“You know me, mom.” I get up, shut my window, turn off the standing lamp, and stretch. “Always careful.”