"Time's up, class.  Pass your papers forward."

Hotaru sighed, suppressing a groan as the teacher's
stentorian voice interrupted her frantic scribbling. 
Chemistry had never been her best subject, and the fact that
she hadn't even finished that last question couldn't bode
well for her grade.  She watched mournfully as the paper
made its way to the front of the row.  It would be a minor
miracle if she passed; Akiyama-sensei was a tough grader, so
there was precious little hope for mercy.  But if she failed
this test, she'd need an A on the next one, and she'd never
even come close to an A in chemistry.

What a terrible end to the day.  Hotaru mechanically
packed her books, tuning out the low grumbles of classroom
conversation that ensued as the teacher left.  Quietly, she
took her things and departed, one of the first students to
leave.

* * *

Arcana

Chapter One:
Luck of the Draw

by Scott Schimmel

* * *


As soon as she stepped out of the classroom, another
girl -- one dressed in a boys' uniform -- greeted her with a
cheery smile.  "Hiya, Hotaru.  How'd the exam go?"

"Um, not bad," she said, as she had every time.

"You're a lousy liar," the taller girl retorted,
according to the script.  She combed one hand through her
short blonde hair, adopting an expression of exaggerated
exasperation.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Natsu-chan."  She couldn't
help but smile at the exchange; that was probably the reason
Natsu went through with it.  Natsu Forrester had been her
best friend since she transferred into Hotaru's school in
the third grade; she'd been teased a lot, because of her
half-American ancestry, and, later, because she'd refused to
wear the girls' uniforms.  But Hotaru had admired her -- her
self-assured manner, her calm intelligence, her athletic
prowess, her quick smile, her blunt honesty.  They'd become
fast friends, though Hotaru still occasionally wondered what
Natsu had seen in her.  Next to Natsu, she felt so...
ordinary.

"I just got here," Natsu replied, shrugging it off. 
She fell into step beside Hotaru, asking, "So.  Are you
gonna pass?"

"I don't know," she admitted.  "It was tougher than I
expected."

Natsu frowned.  "You want some help?  I'm not that
great at explaining things, but I'm pretty good at
chemistry.  Maybe we could manage..."

"Thanks, Natsu-chan," she answered, smiling.  "But
you've got your own tests to study for.  I don't want to
bother you."

"It's no trouble.  Believe me, if you were bothering
me, I'd say so."

Hotaru laughed.  "Oh, I believe you.  All right, maybe
I'll take you up on that offer some time..."

"Promises, promises."  This time, the exasperation
wasn't feigned, but it lasted only for a moment.  "You going
straight home?"

"Maybe.  I don't have a club meeting today.  What about
you?"

Her friend shrugged.  "I've got practice again. 
There's a match next week, so we're all putting in some
extra time."

"I'm sure you'll win, then."  Nodding thoughtfully, she
continued, "I think I'll come watch you practice."

Natsu smirked.  "You mean, sit near the sidelines and
pretend to watch, in between sneaking glances at the boys'
baseball team?"  The smaller girl blushed, and she pressed
the point.  "Which one is it?"  Hotaru sped up, but she
easily matched the pace, persisting.  "Amano?  Hayashi?  Or
maybe--"

As she rounded a corner, Hotaru's embarrassment reached
a new peak when she crashed headlong into somebody, bouncing
to the ground.  "Yasuragi-sempai!" she gasped, looking up at
the older girl -- who, it seemed, hadn't even been budged by
the collision, and who was staring coolly down at her.  "I'm
so sorry!"  The other girl's expression didn't waver at all. 
"Ow," Hotaru added belatedly.

"Komatane."  The upperclassman's voice was positively
arctic.  Not that that was unusual.  "Pay more attention in
the future."

"She said she was sorry, Sumire," Natsu noted with a
touch of irritation.

The older girl's eyes flicked over Natsu
disinterestedly.  "Forrester.  Still cross-dressing, I see."

"Hey, they just said I had to wear a uniform like any
other student," she pointed out.  "They never said which
one.  And I hate skirts."  She grinned, equal parts mirth
and challenge.  "Got a problem with that?"

"Your choice of clothing is of no interest to me.  It
was simply an observation."  Almost as an afterthought, she
reached down to grasp Hotaru's wrist, pulling the younger
girl to her feet with surprising ease.  "I trust you're
unhurt?" she asked, her tone indicating that the answer was
irrelevant.

"I'm okay," Hotaru murmured, regardless.

"Goodbye, then."  Releasing Hotaru's wrist, she cut
between the younger girls, vanishing around the corner while
Hotaru rubbed her forehead, wincing.

Natsu was less than amused.  "What's with the ice
queen, anyway?" she asked rhetorically.  "It's not like she
saw you coming, either..."

"It's all right."  Hotaru bent to retrieve her books,
which she'd dropped in the collision.  "I think, deep down,
Yasuragi-sempai is really a nice person.  She just doesn't
know how to deal with people.  She doesn't seem to have any
friends--"

"Gee, I wonder why."

"Natsu-chan!"  Hotaru sighed.  "You're right, though."

"I think you're giving her too much credit.  She's just
stuck up.  You really okay?"

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "I'm not fragile."

* * *

The soccer ball whistled through the air, going beyond
the goalie's desperate lunge to slam into the top left
corner of the net.  "Nice shot, Natsu-chan!" Hotaru yelled
from the sidelines.  Her friend gave her a quick "V" sign in
response.

It was true, Hotaru reflected, that Natsu wasn't the
best player on the team.  Not quite.  But she was definitely
the best of the freshmen, and better than any of the
eleventh-graders, too.  Next year, after Mochida-sempai and
Takahata-sempai had gone... then, Natsu would be the best.

The worst part was, she made it look so easy.  Hotaru
had tried her hand at half a dozen sports herself, with her
friend's encouragement.  The best she'd managed to achieve,
despite all her work, was a borderline-competent tennis
game.  There wasn't an athletic bone in her body.

She sighed, turning her attention to the distant
baseball diamond.  She could just make out some of the
players from here.  There was Hayashi on the mound, in
beautiful form for today's practice; he'd struck out two of
the last three batters.  There were rumors that he was being
scouted by a famous sports college.  Hotaru didn't know
whether to believe them or not.  Hayashi wasn't reliable;
when he was good, he was very good, but when he was off his
game...

Hotaru caught her breath as the next batter stepped
into place.  Only one person was that tall.  Keisuke
Shirosawa, the king of the diamond.  The team captain was a
great bear of a man, head and shoulders taller than any
other student -- or teacher -- at the school, and
broad-shouldered.  He had shocking emerald eyes and a
booming voice that could carry across the most crowded
rooms.  Her mind filled in the features her eyes couldn't
pick out as the titan took a few easy practice swings before
sinking into his batting stance.

Keisuke could have cut a frightening figure, had he
been so inclined, but he had a gift for putting people at
ease with his jovial nature and slight awkwardness.  While
they were with him, people almost forgot that he towered
over them.  He was so good-natured; polite; helpful;
caring...

But then, maybe she was biased.

Fascinated, she watched as Keisuke allowed the first
lightning-fast pitch to pass by.  A strike.  It must have
been a little high for his taste, then.  Or a little low. 
Or something.  Baseball wasn't Hotaru's forte.

A second pitch blazed forward, to her eyes along the
same path.  This time, though, Keisuke swung, and a sharp
crack split the air as the baseball was propelled
heavenward.  She saw Hayashi raise his hand in a gesture of
acknowledgment, watched Keisuke return it with a wave of his
own.  Then he turned, handing the bat to another player, who
Hotaru imagined looked on with a speechless mixture of awe
and pride.

She jumped as a hand suddenly landed on her shoulder. 
"So it's Shirosawa-sempai, hm?" Natsu asked.

"Aaack!"  She hurriedly stood.  "Don't do that!  hey,
aren't you supposed to be practicing?"

"Nah, I'm done for the day."  Natsu offered her a
lopsided smile.  "I hope you haven't gotten your hopes up. 
Between baseball and the college exams, he's probably too
busy even to notice you."

"He helped me with the backdrop for our play," she
muttered.  Well, he'd helped her drama club transport it to
the stage, anyway.  She hadn't exactly been there at the
time.  But that counted.

Heaving a put-upon sigh, Natsu said, "Okay.  Don't say
I didn't warn you."

"Hmm."

"Hey, c'mon.  Let's go home."  She smiled.  "I don't
know about you, but I'm hungry."

* * *

A hand snaked out from beneath a warren of blankets,
expertly hitting the alarm just as it began to chime.  Ah,
blessed silence.

Five minutes later, Hotaru blearily opened one eye,
cautiously peeking out at the greater world, in particular
the cute pastel dolphin-shaped alarm clock on her
nightstand.  And sat bolt upright.  "It's that late
alreadyyyyyyyyy?!" she shrieked, leaping out of bed
(miraculously avoiding getting tangled in her blankets),
diving into her school uniform (the powder blue and pale
yellow sailor fuku wasn't the prettiest of uniforms, but
much better than that nightmarish middle-school one), and
tearing through the door and down the stairs two at a time. 
"Hi Mom no time for breakfast gonna be laaaaate!" she
wailed, expertly snatching her books and lunch in one hand
and a piece of toast, slathered with grape jelly, in the
other.

"Have a nice day, dear," her mother said calmly, as
Hotaru ran out of the kitchen.  She sipped her tea.  "My,
she's more like her father every day... maybe I'd better
give her another five minutes."

* * *

Hotaru panted heavily, leaning against a lamppost for a
much-needed momentary rest.  She was halfway to school, she
would make it, a couple of seconds couldn't hurt, she'd
rationalized.  And it would be nice to be able to breathe
again.

"Hiya, Hotaru," Natsu's voice interjected from behind
her.  "What's the rush?"

With an effort, she turned toward her friend.  Natsu
had one hand on the lamppost, supporting her weight; between
that pose, that uniform, and her short hair, she had a
disconcertingly bishounen look.  Hotaru shook her head. 
"Gonna be late," she gasped.  "Almost.  Five minutes."

Natsu blinked, then held up her watch before Hotaru's
face.  "What are you talking about?  We're early.  We've got
fifteen minutes..."

"What...?  But... my alarm..."  Her eyes widened as
realization set in.  "Mom!"

"I don't see how this could still surprise you," Natsu
remarked skeptically.  "She's been doing it practically
every other day for, what, five years now?"

"But... but..."

Natsu shook her head, grinning.  "Ah, forget it, it
probably does you good anyway.  You definitely get some
exercise."

"Not funny."  Now that she'd stopped running, it seemed
as if every cell in her body was burning.  "Gonna have...
heart attack... some day."

Behind her, a high-pitched laugh.  "How about today?"

She spun, vaguely aware of Natsu's startled jump. 
There was a boy standing there who hadn't been a minute ago. 
He looked no older than them.  His uniform was bright red,
quite unlike the staid black of her school's boys' uniforms,
and she didn't recognize it.  Tall and thin, with sharp,
angular features, unkempt black hair with bluish highlights
shiny as a raven's back, and feverishly bright black eyes,
he reminded her of nothing so much as a human crow.  Even
his laughter sounded coarse and mocking.  "Who--?" Hotaru
tried to say.

"Joker."  The high pitch of his laugh was thankfully
absent from his speaking voice.

"What do you want?" Natsu demanded, anger rushing in to
replace her surprise.  "That wasn't very funny--"

"No?  I thought it was appropriate."  He took a step
toward Hotaru, who shrank back toward her friend.  "After
all... she's going to have to die now."  He swept one empty
hand through the air, like a magician's pass, and ended up
holding a gleaming steel dagger.  Hotaru froze, hardly
daring to breathe, as if hypnotized by the light that
glinted from its razor edge.

Natsu pulled her back.  "Hey... hey, wait a minute,"
she began, her voice wavering in fear that was fighting not
to become panic.  The boy laughed again.

"Don't worry, I don't want you.  Run along to school
like a good girl."  He took another step forward, unhurried.

Natsu shook Hotaru, to no effect.  Desperately, she
cast a glance about.  Nobody.  Nobody but the three of them,
as far as she could see.  But that was next to impossible,
in the city, especially at this time of day.  There should
be other students on their way to school, people on their
way to work, cars driving by.  There wasn't even a breeze. 
She drew a breath to scream.

"Don't bother," Joker said conversationally.  His soft
footfalls resounded like a jet engine's roar in her mind as
he unhurriedly approached.  "We're in our own little world
now."  Step.  "I didn't want you, but you were much too
close to leave out."  Step.  "I am sorry about that."  Step. 
"And about your friend.  Believe me, I wish there was
another way."  Step.

She'd retreated as he'd drawn closer -- a difficult
task, dragging Hotaru along with her, but she'd managed. 
But now she'd suddenly come up against a wall.  She turned,
but there was nothing there.  Nothing but thin air. 
Uncomprehending, she reached out a hand, pressing against
it, but it felt rock-solid.

"No way out," Joker noted.  "Not for her."  Step. 
"Leave her."  Step.  "There's no reason you can't go." 
Step.  He'd be in reach in a minute, and then...

"No!" Natsu screamed, dropping Hotaru and lunging
forward as the boy took another step.  Desperately, she
swung a fist at him, putting as much strength behind the
blow as she could.  His eyes widened, and she felt a glimmer
of hope.

Lazily, he reached up, grasping her wrist just before
the blow connected and stopping her cold.  She tugged
ferociously, attempting to free herself, but his hand might
as well have been a steel manacle for all the progress she
made.  He pulled her forward past him, releasing her, and
she tried to turn, but her legs wouldn't support her. 
Helplessly, she collapsed to the pavement, only now noticing
the sharp pain in her side, the red stain on the gleaming
dagger.

"N-Natsu-chan..."  The shock had jarred Hotaru out of
her immobility, but it did her no good as Joker reached down
to grasp her shoulder, roughly pulling her to her feet.  Her
eyes were drawn to the dagger, casually held no more than a
foot from her breast.  The boy was still smiling, and she
wanted to shrink away from the mad light of his eyes, but
she was held fast.  She whimpered quietly, unable to speak.

"Hello, Hotaru.  Little firefly."

"W-who...?" she managed, throat dry with terror.

"I told you.  Joker."  He giggled.  "Don't worry,
she'll live.  Almost definitely.  Unlike you.  Any last
words, little firefly?"  He paused meaningfully, then
shrugged.  "No?  No."  Another, shorter, pause.  "You don't
know, do you?" he asked with wonder.  "Who you are?  What
you are?  You don't know..."  He laughed.  "What an
excellent joke!  But maybe it's better this way.  Well,
then, time to be extinguished..."

Hotaru closed her eyes tightly, shivering as she
awaited the killing blow.  She heard the whistle of the
blade through the air, followed by a light smack, and then
she felt nothing.

There was a louder crack, and she cautiously opened one
eye.  Finding herself still alive, she opened the other. 
Joker was standing half a dozen meters away, nursing a hand;
the blade had fallen to the street.  In front of her...

"I told you to pay more attention," said Sumire
Yasuragi evenly.  Her eyes never wavered as she stared at
Joker along the length of a bokken.

"Ya... suragi... sempai?"

"Well, well.  Looks like I spent too much time gloating
and not enough killing.  A failing of mine, I suppose."

"You cannot have her."  Even in the middle of a mortal
duel, Hotaru absently noted, Sumire's voice remained cool
and even.  Steel and ice.

"Not today, it seems.  Pity.  Enjoy your new lease on
life, little firefly."  He blurred in a sudden, swift
motion, and Sumire instinctively parried, but there was no
need; Joker was gone.  Vanished, leaving only the faint
echoes of his loud, full laughter.  Hotaru shivered.

A roar filled her ears -- the sounds of people,
traffic, wind.  Metal clattered on stone as Joker's dagger
hit the pavement (but it had been lying there, Hotaru's mind
whispered).  Hotaru stumbled, thrown off balance by the
sudden shift.  And Natsu screamed.

"Natsu!"  Hotaru knelt by her friend.  Sumire moved
forward, behind her, but remained standing.  She seemed to
have found time to put the bokken away, a small part of her
mind noted.  "Why...  Yasuragi-sempai, what... what just
happened?"

"I haven't the time to explain now.  You will be
contacted soon.  Try to be careful until then.  I cannot
watch you constantly, and my appearance would not be a
surprise the next time in any case."

The older girl turned to leave, but Hotaru interrupted. 
"Wait," she asked in disbelief, "You were watching me?"  A
nod answered her.  "All along?"  Another nod.  "Then-- then
why didn't you save Natsu-chan?" she demanded.

Sumire turned away.  "I couldn't do so without
endangering you.  Whatever your personal relationship with
Forrester may be, she is ultimately unimportant.  You are
not."  With that, she began walking.

"Unimp--"  Hotaru gaped.  "You... Natsu-chan was right
about you!" she raged at the retreating form.  "You're stuck
up, arrogant, mean, and... and..."

"Don't, Hotaru," Natsu said weakly, reaching up to
clasp her hand.

"Natsu-chan!"  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. 
"Oh, gods, I'd better call an ambulance, you're hurt--"

The blonde smiled wanly.  "Silly.  Don't panic.  It's
not... as serious as it looks."  She winced, drawing a deep
breath.  "Shallow.  Flesh wound.  Hurts, though."  She
giggled.  "Not as much as it did at first.  Couldn't stand,
for some reason.  Guess I'll miss that game, huh?"  A broad
smile spread across her face, unaccountably.  "I think...
passerby already called... I hear a siren."

Hotaru didn't.  "Natsu-chan?" she asked.  "Are you sure
you're not delirious?"

"No.  Just feel weird."  She giggled again.  "Light. 
Hey, look, we're not even late," she burbled, displaying her
watch.

"Fourteen... minutes... left..."  Something cold and
many-legged scuttled over Hotaru's heart.  "That's-- that's
not possible..."

* * *

The room was small, and a blurry, antiseptic sort of
light gleamed from its walls and floor.  Everything sounded
louder, here, and somehow less personal.

Hotaru had never liked hospitals, not at all.  She sat
at the edge of the bed, cupping one of her friend's hands
between both of hers.

"But I'm fine!  Really!"  Natsu whined.

She shook her head firmly.  "The doctor said you should
rest for a day or two."

"To make sure, he said.  He was just being cautious. 
Come on, Hotaru, do you have any idea how boring it is to
lie in bed doing nothing for two days?"

Hotaru stood firm.  "I'll bring you our assignments. 
That should take up a little of your time, anyway."

"Sheesh.  With friends like these..."  She laughed -- a
little too heartily, perhaps, since she winced a moment
later.

"Now promise me you'll stay put for two days."

Natsu sighed wearily.  "All right, all right.  I
promise.  Happy?"  Hotaru cheerfully nodded, and she shook
her head.  "But not a second longer."

"Deal."  Hotaru slowly stood.  "I guess I should let
you rest a bit--"

"I'm not an invalid, you know.  Well, I guess I sort of
am, but still..."

Hotaru ignored the interruption.  "But I'll be back
soon.  Is there anything you'd like me to bring you?"

"That guy and a gun would be a good start, but that's
probably a bit too much to hope for, huh?"

"Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," she
replied sarcastically.  "But if I see him, I'lllllll... run
really fast."  That earned her a small smile.  "Seriously? 
Nothing?"  Natsu shook her head.  "Okay, then.  See you
later..."

"Bye, Hotaru."  Natsu watched her friend wave to her,
waited for the click as the door swung closed.  Only then
did she allow herself to fall back onto the pillow, drained. 
"Ouch.  Damn."  It had taken more effort than she'd thought. 
"Two days, huh...?"

* * *

Hotaru leaned heavily against the door, hanging her
head.  She'd needed to be cheerful in front of Natsu, for
her sake, but now... now that she didn't have to concentrate
on anything else, a thousand questions returned to lay siege
to her mind.  Among them, naturally, were who?, why?, and
how?  But foremost in her mind was...

"Argh..."  She rubbed at her temples; it didn't help. 
"What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, you must be Hotaru-san, then," a soft voice right
next to her commented.

She jumped, whirled, backpedaled a few steps before
she'd taken in the sight before her.  The speaker was just a
girl, no older than twelve or thirteen; small and willowy,
she looked almost as though she might break if Hotaru
touched her.  She wore a brown and yellow uniform that
Hotaru recognized as belonging to a local middle school,
though she was sure that mirrored sunglasses weren't
normally condoned.  Then again, neither was loose, straight
hair that fell past the waist.

If the girl noticed her scrutiny, or even her reaction,
she gave no sign.  With a pleasant smile, she continued,
"You're Hotaru Komatane, aren't you?  I'm Miyuki Sokana. 
Nice to meet you."  She bowed, the motion as fluid as her
voice.

"Ah... right," Hotaru managed.  "You surprised me. 
Good to meet you."

"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you."

Hotaru shrugged; she could hardly imagine the girl as a
threat.  She just stood there and smiled, and waited.  And
waited some more.  "Um, it's okay," Hotaru finally,
awkwardly, continued.  "Um... did you want something?"

"In a manner of speaking.  I have something for you. 
Follow me."

"What?"  Could this be a trap after all?  But...

"Yasuragi-sempai should have mentioned me.  You wanted
answers, right?  Well, I'm here to guide you to them."

"Yasuragi-sempai...?"  But that nagging doubt continued
to tug at Hotaru's mind.  "But how do I know you're telling
the truth?  And how did you know where to find me, anyway?"

"She told me who had been hurt, and fortune led me
here," Miyuki said impatiently.  "I knew you would be with
Forrester-san."

"But... but..."  Her mind whirled; none of this made
any sense!  "That Joker guy!  He knew my name, too.  So
that's not proof..."

Miyuki scowled.  "Fine, then!  Don't trust me... but if
you don't come with me now," she hissed, "you'll be dead by
this time next week."  Hotaru gaped at her, mouth flapping
speechlessly.  "I can see it!"

Silence stretched to fill an uncomfortable minute. 
"How?" Hotaru finally squeaked.

Gazing steadily at her, the younger girl wordlessly
reached up to remove her sunglasses.  Hotaru gasped.  Her
eyes were pale silver-white, and they bored relentlessly
into her own.  The eyes of the blind.

"You..."

"I don't see the world the way you do, Hotaru-san.  But
there are other ways, and I see other things," she said
quietly.  "You may or may not believe me, but I am telling
you the truth.  If you don't follow me, you will die soon."

"And I won't if I do?"

The younger girl slouched, seeming to collapse inward
on herself, making her appear even more fragile.  "To be
honest, I can't promise that.  I can't see everything.  But
if you come with me, at least you'll know what's happening." 
She slipped her glasses back on, waiting.

"All right," Hotaru decided.  "So where, exactly, are
we going?"

A faint smile once more crept across Miyuki's face. 
"We're going back to school."

* * *

"She survived."  Her voice was flat and matter-of-fact,
but he could sense the barely-controlled rage hidden beneath
the surface.  It made him smile.

"There was unexpected interference, Maki-chan," he said
sweetly.  "We'll have plenty of chances..."

"You will address me as Kurayami-sempai," she snapped. 
Amazing, he thought, that a young woman so small could have
a voice so loud.

"Whatever."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.  He yawned, absently
noticing the way her hands clenched into fists.  "You would
do well to remember that I am the Queen," she spat.

"How could I forget, sempai?" he asked sardonically. 
"You remind me every five minutes.  The Queen of Pentacles,
who'd like nothing more than to be the Empress.  Sad,
really."  He didn't bother to conceal his smirk.

Maki was livid now.  It didn't matter; he knew she
wouldn't dare attack him.  Not while she still thought he
was useful to her.  Manipulative, cunning, and arrogant she
might be, but the pride she took in her self-control was
justified; even he would admit that.  "Who do you think you
are?" she snarled.

"Joker," he offered.

"And Ishido Usono?"  Her voice was carefully neutral;
he had to admire her willpower.

"No longer has meaning, if he ever did," he affirmed,
smiling a lopsided grin that he knew would infuriate her. 
But he would offer her something, just to make sure. 
"Something amusing I discovered," he said.

"And what is that?"
 
"She doesn't know yet."

It took a moment for that to sink in.  "You mean... she
hasn't awakened?" Maki mused.

"Doesn't remember a thing."

"Indeed... that is interesting.  That may change
things..."

"I thought you'd like to know that, oh high and mighty
queen."  He laughed; he couldn't help it, seeing her
expression.  "You might have your reasons for this little
crusade, Maki-chan, but they're not mine.  I just don't like
the Council Arcana."

She barely glanced at him.  "You're beginning to try my
patience.  Leave."

A shrug.  "As my queen commands."  He bobbed a quick,
mocking bow, and vanished.

Alone, Maki shook her head.  "One day, Ishido, I won't
need you any more.  I wonder how long it will take you to
stop laughing and start screaming."  But he was still
useful, for now.

She could wait.  Maki had a very long memory.

* * *

"But this leads to the basement," Hotaru protested. 
"We're not supposed to go down there."

"That's why it's the perfect place to go," Miyuki
returned.  "Hurry."  She bounded down the stairs with the
same ease as she'd navigated her way through the crowds
outside.  Apparently, she was unhampered by her lack of
sight.  Hotaru reluctantly followed.

It wasn't as dark in the basement as she'd always
imagined it would be.  Not nearly as dusty, either.  In
fact, it was a lot like the rest of the school building. 
She didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

"In here," Miyuki said, opening the door to a storage
room.

"What's in here?"  She slipped in behind the younger
girl, banging her knee against a damaged desk.  "Owww..."

"Nothing.  It's what's through the other door that
matters.  Be careful."  She smoothly picked a path through
the clutter.

Hotaru followed, more cautiously, threading her way
through the school's cast-off detritus.  "But there's only
one door to this room," she complained.

"Not exactly."  Miyuki rapped her hand against the
wall, and a section swung aside.  Beyond the wall was
nothing but darkness; not only was there no light within,
but the light from the storage room refused to cross the
threshold to enter that void.

Hotaru could sympathize.

However, Miyuki didn't seem inclined to allow her to
protest.  She stepped forward, disappearing into the
blackness, leaving Hotaru with no choice.  She took a deep
breath, closed her eyes, and plunged forward.

It wasn't cold.  Rather warm, actually; certainly not
what she'd expected.  There was a faint scent -- lavender,
she thought -- in the air.

"So she's the one?" a man asked.

Her eyes snapped open.  She was in a long room,
brightly lit.   A stained-glass window hung in the center of
the far wall, but no light shone through it.  The other
walls were, like the floor, bare.  At the far end of the
room, a large double door stood closed; in the center of the
other two walls were smaller, single doors, also shut.  Most
of the space was taken up by a U-shaped table of what looked
like white marble.  Seats were circled around it, dark wood
with plush red cushioning; most were empty.  And the two
that weren't...  "Yasuragi-sempai?  Shirosawa-sempai?"

Miyuki was nodding in response to Keisuke's question. 
"Yes."  The word carried oracular certainty, and there was
no argument.  Turning back toward the older girl, who had
once again found herself staring in disbelief, she smiled. 
"Welcome to the Tower Reversed."

"The tower... what?"  She looked around with wide eyes. 
"This isn't the school.  Where are we?  What do you want
with me?  What's going on?!"

"Calm down!" Sumire snapped, causing Hotaru to flinch
away.  Her tone returned to its usual emotionless state as
she continued.  "We've brought you here to explain.  We'll
answer your questions, so don't panic.  Hysteria is
counter-productive.  Understood?"  Tremulously, Hotaru
nodded.  

"I know this is a lot to handle, but you'll manage." 
Keisuke smiled reassuringly.  Normally, she would have
melted at that smile, but now it hardly registered on her
consciousness.

"Yes, she will.  Sokana?"

Miyuki nodded.  "The where first, then.  Like I said,
this is the Tower Reversed.  You're right, we're not under
your school any more.  We're deep underground, in an
upside-down tower; that's why it's called the Tower
Reversed."

"Upside-down?"  She glanced up at the ceiling. 
"But..."

"You know how, Hotaru-san.  You just haven't admitted
it to yourself yet.  It was magic that brought us here,
magic that created this tower, and it's magic that reverses
gravity within."

"No... no, this isn't possible..."

"This morning was also not possible," Sumire reminded,
without any trace of sympathy.  "Yet it happened
nevertheless."

"It was probably a lot of effort to build this," Miyuki
continued, "but it had to be done.  You see, if the Tower
weren't reversed, it would symbolize disaster.  And we
believe that magic was much more common then...

"But we'll save that for another time.  None of us are
too clear on the history anyway, and I'm sure you're
wondering what this has to do with you."

Hotaru nodded, and Keisuke laughed.  "I was the same,"
he confided.  "That first trip here... well, you know."  For
some reason, that didn't make her feel any better.

"Well, Hotaru-san, we all have the magic.  And so do
you."

"Me?"  Her eyes bugged out.  "There must be some
mistake..."

"No.  I am called Fortune, the fourth to hold that
title, and I see what no one else can.  I saw in you a very
strong potential, even stronger than Yasuragi-sempai and
Shirosawa-sempai.  We think you may be a Trump."

"A what?"  She rubbed her forehead.  "You're not making
any sense... this can't be true.  It just can't!"

"Please calm down.  We know you're afraid; we all were. 
But it's nothing to worry about.  All it means is that you
have power, strong power.  Which are you?"

"Which what?"

"You don't remember?"  Miyuki removed her sunglasses,
staring at Hotaru with that unnerving gaze.  "I see.  You've
been... damaged, somehow.  You don't remember what you were. 
And are."

Her eyes widened.  "He -- Joker, I mean -- this
morning, he said the same thing."

Sumire shook her head.  "I know what you're thinking,
but if we were in league with him, we would have killed you
already."

"Sumire," Keisuke said reproachfully.  "Look,
Hotaru-chan... I know this must sound crazy, but Miyuki-chan
is never wrong, not her visions at least.  You're not the
only one to not remember, either.  I've only got bits and
pieces of mine, and I'm the tenth or so Knight of Wands, so
I'm missing a lot.  Sometimes the memories come back to you
at odd times, so--"

"None of us have full memories," Miyuki acknowledged. 
"Not since the Council was shattered and turned on itself. 
But we know enough to use our powers.  If you can't remember
anything at all..."

"I'm not worried about the memories," Hotaru said
quietly.  "I just... I don't understand.  I don't understand
any of it.  Magic, and cards, and... I'm just a normal girl! 
Why is this happening to me?"

"Because normal is the last thing you are."

"Yasuragi-sempai..."  She shook her head.  "This is too
much.  How can you deal with it?"

"I cannot speak to that.  I never had such trouble with
my role."

"She's the Ace of Blades," Keisuke explained
conversationally.  "I guess you saw some of that this
morning when she saved you."

"What happened this morning, anyway?  Natsu-chan... I
remember she tried to run, but..."

"You weren't on Earth any more," Sumire said bluntly.

"More or less," Miyuki agreed.  "He trapped you inside
a... call it a mirror dimension.  A small bubble just
outside of normal space and time.  We can all make them. 
Normal people can get out, but not in; we can get in, but
not out.  It has to do with the magic.  It was meant for
private conversations, but it happens to be a good place for
fighting, since nothing that happens there affects anything
in the real world, except for living beings and objects
closely associated with them, like Natsu-san's uniform or--"

"Joker's knife."

"Exactly.  You should be able to notice them, now that
you've been inside one."

"So that's how Yasuragi-sempai found me.  And she beat
Joker," Hotaru mused.

Sumire shrugged dismissively.  "Part of the job.  It
might have gone differently if he'd expected me.  Or if he
hadn't been using a dagger.  The nature of my power makes it
difficult for anyone with a blade to overcome me."

"Ace of Blades... I see.  And Shirosawa-sempai is
Knight of Wands."  She turned back toward Miyuki,
concluding, "And you're Fortune."

Miyuki nodded.  "We know of a few others, but I'm the
only one who's a Trump.  Except for you.  We suspect there
are one or two on their side, but we don't know for sure..." 
Seeing Hotaru's lost expression, she explained, "A Trump has
more power.  We think you might be the Empress, and that's
why they were trying to kill you.  In any case, they're
afraid of you."

"They?"

"We're Arcana," Keisuke said.  "The good guys."

Unseen by the baseball star, but visible to Hotaru,
Miyuki rolled her eyes.  "Actually, we're just a part of
Arcana."

"The Council Arcana guides us, through Miyuki."  Sumire
smiled slightly, perhaps the most unusual thing Hotaru had
experienced today.  "They told us about this tower, and they
help us protect ourselves."

"From Joker."  She liked the sound of that.

"Not just Joker," Miyuki corrected.  "There's
another... call it a faction.  We've been fighting them
since... before World War II.  The war was what really tore
Arcana apart.  Before then, the two sides just argued."  She
paused, thoughtfully adding, "At least, that's what the
letters say.  They don't like to talk much about that point
in history."

"So... the Council is...?"

"Older ones.  Those who survived the war, I guess.  I'm
not sure who's in charge.  There hasn't been an Emperor or
Empress since the end of the war--"

"Ironic, isn't it?" Sumire asked.

"--And all of the other Trumps have been... defeated...
since then.  That's why the Council has to keep itself
secret now.  They don't have the power to withstand another
attack.  Sometimes a month will pass without a communication
from them."

"But you can follow them, even though you don't know
anything about them?" Hotaru questioned.

"I've seen no danger," Miyuki answered, "And their
intentions are clearly better."

"See," said Keisuke, "We're trying to protect the
world.  The other side wants to conquer it."

"And you, Hotaru-san, can help us stop them," Miyuki
finished.  She held up a hand that Hotaru would have sworn
had been empty a moment earlier, fanning a deck of cards. 
"Take them."

"Tarot cards?"  Uncertainly, she took possession of the
deck; it felt strangely heavy in her hands, as though each
card was made of lead.

"They aren't normal.  The card you choose will reveal
your identity.  Shuffle them until you feel it's right,
spread them on the table face-down and pick one, even throw
them all up in the air and catch one -- however you feel
comfortable doing it."

Nervously, Hotaru began a clumsy shuffle, all too aware
of the others' eyes on her.  All of this had been
overwhelming, and she felt a faint surprise at not dropping
the deck and scattering the cards all over the room.  "How
long do I...?"

"Until you're ready."

With a mental shrug, Hotaru stopped.  No time like the
present.  She rested her free hand lightly on top of the
deck.  It might have been her imagination, but she thought
she felt a faint tugging...  Gritting her teeth, she turned
over the top card.

And stared down at the countenance of The Magician.

* * *

Ishido stood alone in the darkness, dealing a single
card onto the table's surface.  It slid to a halt just below
the candle that was the only source of illumination.  The
Ace of Blades.

"She was a surprise," Ishido murmured.

*You didn't kill her.*

Did he really hear the words?  Sometimes, he wondered
if he truly had gone mad, hearing whispers inside his head. 
Always, he came to one conclusion:  It made no difference. 
"No."

*The Queen of Pentacles was not pleased.*

"No," he repeated, dealing a second card.  The Queen of
Pentacles covered the Ace, eclipsing it.  "But that's
irrelevant.  I'm not one of her lackeys."

*She is a pawn herself,* the whispers suggested.

"Could be.  Most of them don't think for themselves
nearly enough.  She likes to think she's in charge, though."

*Her Dark Arcana.*

"She'd like to think so.  I think she really would
conquer the world, if she had the chance," he remarked
conversationally, throwing a third card.  The World.  "Not
that she could keep it."

*She is weak.*

The voices always stated, never asked, but he could
read the uncertainty in that particular murmur.  "She's
extremely dangerous.  I wonder when she'll try to kill me." 
The Seven of Blades made its appearance.

*You are not afraid.*

"I think I'm beyond that now.  The Trumps are beginning
to awaken.  The Council will be on the lookout for them. 
Damn them all."  Temperance covered the blades.

*The Council has grown weak.*

"The Council is as dangerous as Maki-chan.  And as
subtle.  Magic isn't the only thing that will determine the
outcome of this game."  The ghost of a smile crossed his
lips.  "It should be interesting to watch."

*You oppose the Council.  You disagree with the Queen.*

"One would conquer us, the other would destroy us.  I
guess that makes me the spoiler.  Joker's wild."  He laughed
aloud as the Hanged Man landed beneath the candle.  "There's
a story.  In the ancient days, there was only one person who
could tell the king the truth without fear.  The court
jester."

*You are alone.*

"I've got my voices," he replied with a grin.  "And I
have my firefly.  Unless I have to kill her."  Ishido
giggled.  "She hasn't awakened yet, so I'd be killing her in
her sleep.  Appropriate, isn't it?"

He waited for a reply, but the voices had gone silent. 
With a nonchalant shrug, he answered himself, instead.  "I
thought so."  A final card flew forward, tapping the base of
the candle, which fell forward onto the pile.  "I thought
so," he repeated, as The Fool was consumed by flames.

* * *

To be continued?

Notes:  This was inspired, sort of, by Utena, X and
various other CLAMP stuff, and the like, so I suppose its
genre would be "shoujo weirdness."  Nothing else to say,
really.

Thanks for reading, and I welcome any comments.