The car turned into the streets of Akasaka. Outside the window, the ordinary cityscape gradually gave way to a quiet, tree-lined avenue. Ginkgo trees stood in neat rows along both sides of the road, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves to scatter dappled shadows across the ground.
Soon, the front gate of Tsunekiyoshi Jingu appeared at the far end of view.
It was a typical Japanese shrine, but far more solemn than an ordinary rural one — dark grey tile roofing, vermilion pillars and crossbeams glowing with a warm sheen beneath the setting sun.
The entrance was already lined with all manner of luxury sedans. Men in black suits and women in gorgeous kimono strolled through the gate in twos and threes, the occasional polite greeting drifting through the air.
The car pulled up at the front gate. Toshiyuki Eide got out first, hurrying around to open the door for Tomie. Amamiya Rin pushed open the door on the other side and stepped out, looked up, and his expression gradually faded into something cool and distant.
Before coming, Amamiya Rin had asked the fortune teller to divine today's itinerary for him.
—
An hour earlier, at the House of Divination, the solid wood table that had been snapped in two had been shoved into a corner. The fortune teller had set up a low table in the center of the room instead. The black veil still covered half her face, but the once-seductive, string-like eyes now held nothing but submission and dull confusion.
"...As a witch, my magic comes from my hair. My hair houses my soul — the longer it grows, the stronger my intuition and my power become. Divination and cursing are both derivative uses of that power. Through tarot, I can foresee, to some degree, another's past and future. Through voodoo items made from my hair, I can sever a person's head. Because of the curse's nature, so long as the head isn't parted from the body too long, life continues on. And if the victim hasn't died by the time the curse expires, the head returns to normal."
Under Amamiya Rin's order, the fortune teller's mind — held in check by Tomie's control — obediently explained her power and her origins.
This fortune teller was a natural-born esper, descended from a clan of witches who had crossed over from the West. The magic she wielded resembled the native onmyoji arts and esper techniques — all of it skills built from cultural impressions and collective belief.
Her combat strength wasn't much to speak of, but her divination and curses made for excellent support.
More importantly, by her own account, she wasn't the only witch out there — she knew other witches and mages as well. That, in itself, opened a door to a whole new world for Amamiya Rin.
Once he had some free time, he'd be sure to pay a visit or two.
"Divine my schedule for tonight."
But today wasn't the moment for that. Having confirmed the fortune teller's abilities, Amamiya Rin gave her the divination task instead.
The fortune teller picked up the tarot deck from the table and, just as before, shuffled it carefully three times, then spread the cards across the low table in a neat fan.
"Please draw three."
Amamiya Rin's fingertips swept across the cards and drew three, crisp and decisive.
The fortune teller turned over the first card.
On its face, the scales tilted, the sword inverted — Justice, reversed.
"Upright Justice represents rules, fairness, and the judgment of law. Reversed, it means the failure of worldly order. Sins that ought to be punished are instead cloaked in power and wealth, hidden beneath a glittering shell, never receiving the judgment they deserve. Fairness has long since rotted away, right and wrong deliberately inverted. The place you're headed to this evening is exactly such a place."
With that, the fortune teller turned over the second card.
On it, a knight in a crimson robe rode a white horse, a gleaming sword raised high in his hand, a conquered city at his back, his cloak billowing with unstoppable momentum — the Knight of Swords, upright.
"The upright Knight of Swords represents utter decisiveness, swift action, and unquestionable resolve. This card appearing here means you'll make a choice — and once made, there'll be no turning back. The Knight of Swords' charge never weighs the consequences. Once his blade is drawn, it doesn't return to its sheath until the dust has settled."
With that, the fortune teller turned over the third card.
On it, the Tower struck by lightning, its crown toppling from the summit, two figures plunging from the heights — The Tower, upright.
"The Tower, upright. Sudden calamity, an unforeseeable collapse, all false order shattering in an instant. Those who stand atop the tower, certain they'll remain forever above everyone else, will plunge into the abyss at the moment they least expect it."
The fortune teller gathered the three cards together, lifted her head, and gave Amamiya Rin her summary.
"Where worldly law loses its hold, the Knight of Swords brings death without distinction, the tower of power comes crashing down, and those standing atop it fall to their deaths."
"...Is that so."
A sharp glint flickered through Amamiya Rin's eyes.
"An interesting reading."
Reversed Justice, upright Knight of Swords, upright The Tower — the three cards needed no elaborate explanation. Amamiya Rin already grasped the shape of it.
It seemed this evening's plans weren't going to go smoothly.
— Back to the present.
The torii of Tsunekiyoshi Jingu cast a long shadow beneath the setting sun. Amamiya Rin stood before the vermilion pillars, gazing up toward the depths of the shrine.
The outline of the main hall blurred in the gathering dusk, its roof tiles catching the last traces of light, as though coated in a film of dark gold.
In the distance came the sound of kagura music, slow and melodious, as if flowing in from another era entirely.
"Rin?"
A gentle voice sounded by his ear, slender fingers slipping between Amamiya Rin's own, the two of them lacing their hands together. Amamiya Rin turned to look at Mara Tomie, his expression as calm as ever.
"In a little while, I'll need your help."
"Don't worry."
Mara Tomie smiled faintly, a look of quiet understanding rising across her soft features.
The two of them looked strikingly in sync, like a perfectly matched couple — and the sight made Flesh-Mod Tomie's eyelid twitch uncontrollably.
"What are you playing innocent for?"
She stepped forward, her shoulder colliding with Mara Tomie's, her face full of disdain.
Her sturdy build sent Mara Tomie staggering even without much force behind the blow.
"Do you think we're strangers here? Everyone knows you're the most lustful, most depraved one of all of us. Now you're putting on this pure, gentle little act — who exactly do you think that's going to fool?"
"Ahh~~"
Mara Tomie toppled sideways into Amamiya Rin's arms with a startled cry, brows furrowing slightly, white teeth biting her lip as though enduring the pain of Flesh-Mod Tomie's assault.
"Still keeping up the act!"
At the sight of it, an unnamed fire rose up in Flesh-Mod Tomie. She clenched her fists, itching to give this pretentious fake a proper beating.
"Let's not make a scene, not on an occasion like this."
Amamiya Rin raised a hand and gently caught Flesh-Mod Tomie's wrist, his voice tinged with helplessness, his gaze turning toward Mara Tomie.
Flesh-Mod Tomie couldn't sense it, but Mara Tomie's ever-radiating influence never escaped his perception.
"Heh heh!"
Mara Tomie blinked, a sly smile spreading across her face — she'd clearly done something mischievous, and yet she looked every bit the innocent girl, which made it hard for anyone to hold on to real anger at her.
"This fake is getting bolder and bolder! Once tonight's banquet is over, don't you dare stop me — I'm going to teach her a proper lesson."
Flesh-Mod Tomie belatedly realized she'd fallen for it too, her face flushing red, snapping the words out in irritation.
"Mm... I support you in spirit."
Amamiya Rin fell silent for a moment. When it came to dealing with people, Mara Tomie was simply unbeatable. However great Flesh-Mod Tomie's raw power, her mental fortitude was far too weak — if it truly came to blows, she wouldn't come out ahead. Still... Mara Tomie ought to know how to keep things within bounds.
He could hardly step in to help, could he? If he got involved in a squabble between Tomies, it would inevitably spark an all-out war.
Toshiyuki Eide stood off to the side, watching the three of them interact, his expression shifting back and forth.
He was, technically, the host of this whole affair — and yet right now he felt like nothing more than an unnecessary bystander.
The look he gave Amamiya Rin was thick with jealousy and envy.
Toshiyuki Eide drew a deep breath, forcibly wrestling his expression back into a polite smile, stepped forward half a pace, and spoke softly.
"Amamiya-kun, Miss Kawakami, Miss Tomie — the auspicious hour is nearly upon us. Please, all three of you, this way into the hall."
At his words, Amamiya Rin nodded. The two Tomies stopped their squabbling as well. Mara Tomie straightened up out of Amamiya Rin's arms and smoothed her collar, the slyness melting from her face as she settled back into her gentle demeanor. Flesh-Mod Tomie gave a cold snort and turned her head away.
Toshiyuki Eide led the way ahead, but his gaze kept drifting back toward Mara Tomie. And yet every time his eyes touched her, it was as though an unseen hand brushed them aside, unable to linger — his attention would slide instead toward Flesh-Mod Tomie, and there it would stay.
They passed through the shrine's approach. Beside the main hall stood a separate building, modest in scale but built in the traditional shinden-zukuri style — black tiles, white walls, a roof of hinoki bark shingles. A white wooden lantern hung before its door, the three characters for "Toshiyuki family" brushed on it in ink.
Two young men stood before the entrance, dressed in montsuki haori hakama, family crests pinned to their chests. At the sight of Toshiyuki Eide, they bowed slightly, their eyes lingering for a moment on Amamiya Rin and the two Tomies, a flicker of astonishment passing through them.
Toshiyuki Eide didn't pause, pushing the door open directly.
Inside was a spacious Japanese-style hall, the floor laid with edgeless Ryukyu tatami, the air carrying the grassy scent of the mats along with a faint trace of sandalwood. Quite a few guests had already arrived, clustered in twos and threes, murmuring among themselves, the occasional soft laugh quickly reined in.
The moment Amamiya Rin and the two Tomies stepped into the hall, the air seemed to still, subtly but unmistakably.
Dozens of gazes swept over at once. Most of them slid straight past Mara Tomie, as though she were nothing more than a patch of empty air — while Flesh-Mod Tomie drew no shortage of eyes.
Her level of life was simply too high. Even without a word, merely standing there, the presence radiating off her was like a mountain — impossible to ignore.
The female guests took in Flesh-Mod Tomie's figure with astonishment before quickly noticing Amamiya Rin at her side, their expressions taking on a hint of suggestive curiosity.
The male guests' eyes, meanwhile, stayed fixed on Flesh-Mod Tomie, thick with lust, possessiveness, and desire, unable to look anywhere else.
She accepted those stares without the slightest discomfort, chin lifting slightly, the corner of her mouth curling into a proud smile.
"This humble one is Saionji. Might I ask this young lady's honored name?"
In an instant, Amamiya Rin and Tomie became the center of attention at a banquet that hadn't even begun. Someone soon came over to strike up conversation — a man in his forties, who bowed politely to Tomie, though his gaze lingered on her face far longer than social courtesy allowed.
"Tiresome."
Flesh-Mod Tomie said it without the slightest courtesy.
Unlike an ordinary Tomie, though she certainly enjoyed the adoration and pursuit of others, she had no interest whatsoever in reciprocating it.
A proud woman need only accept the attention of the crowd as her due — at most sparing them a glance, as if handing down a favor.
Saionji's smile stiffened. Clearly he hadn't expected that simply asking her name would earn him the label "tiresome."
Was she picking a fight with him?
"Find me somewhere to sit. How much longer do you expect me to stand here?" Not bothering with Saionji any further, Flesh-Mod Tomie glanced over at Toshiyuki Eide, her tone impatient.
"Right this way, please."
Toshiyuki Eide flashed Saionji an apologetic look, then hurried ahead with excessive attentiveness to guide them to the seats arranged beforehand.
Flesh-Mod Tomie sat down without a shred of self-consciousness, sprawling into her seat. Amamiya Rin took the place beside her, while Mara Tomie had already vanished without a trace.
Saionji's smile finally gave out entirely.
Tomie's allure was powerful enough on its own, but without any active engagement, it was hard to truly bewitch a crowd. Not wanting to lose face in front of everyone, Saionji forced out a couple of dry laughs and turned to strike up conversation with someone else, sparing himself further embarrassment.
But Saionji's overture was only the beginning.
Tomie's charm was simply too great — especially now, with her level of life risen higher, drawing the weak-willed toward her all the more easily. People kept coming to make conversation.
A middle-aged woman in a kimono let her gaze linger on Amamiya Rin's face, asking whether he had any marriage arrangement — though the infatuated look in her eyes didn't seem like a mother scouting a son-in-law so much as a woman hunting for a lover of her own.
A wealthy merchant with a paunch held out his business card to Flesh-Mod Tomie, mentioning he owned a members-only club in Ginza and hoped she'd honor him with a visit sometime.
A cluster of young noble sons crowded around Flesh-Mod Tomie with wine cups in hand, competing to shower her with flattery.
Flesh-Mod Tomie savored the sensation of being watched but had no patience to respond to any of it, leaving those who fancied themselves high-born to wander off, bored. Even so, she kept drawing men like moths to a flame — five or six of them lingered around her, and even those who walked away kept their eyes trailing back to her.
Amamiya Rin, for his part, maintained a polite but distant bearing throughout — neither warm nor rude, like an uninteresting stone. If anything, that only further stoked the conquering instincts and curiosity of the noblewomen present.
Between the two of them, they'd all but stolen the spotlight — the true stars of the wedding hadn't even made their entrance yet, and already the mood had grown charged. This left the Toshiyuki family's servants and the branch-family members overseeing the banquet thoroughly irritated, unhappy glances converging on Toshiyuki Eide from every direction.
But Toshiyuki Eide remained entirely oblivious, still lavishing pointless attentiveness on Flesh-Mod Tomie.
____
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🔥 New history: DanMachi: Inheriting the Legacy of Alternate Versions — posted on The_Mikudayo