I was drifting.

That was all I knew for sure.

A dark purple haze surrounded me on all sides, and I did not know which way was up or down. I could see nothing. There was nothing to orient myself with as I continued to drift unmoored through this never-ending fog.

Normally, this would bother me.

But, for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to care, which was certainly unusual. I couldn't really see anything, but it didn't really matter, did it? This wasn't reality. It felt pretty comfortable, and it was relaxing, and both were things I desperately needed more of in my life.

And it felt right to just not care. So I continued to drift.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before something… else entered into my pleasantly misty mindscape. I still couldn't quite see anything, but I could hear a very faint, but deep rumbling off in the distance. The sound grew louder and louder until strong and piercing beams of light shattered through the darkness around me.

Too bright. Much too bright.

A car, or as it seemed to be, a limousine, soon came into focus behind its two strong headlights. It drove on a surface that I am positive was not there before. I could hear a slight squeaking of the tires as the limo slowed to a halt in front of me. The calmness I had felt before was gone, replaced with the more familiar feeling of unease.

Suddenly, I was no longer observing the stretch limo from the outside; I was inside the vehicle itself. The interior looked quite expensive and ornate, with delicate wine glasses lining the shelves on my left. The entire color scheme was centered around a deep marine blue that went into everything from the backlighting for the wine shelves, the fabric on the seats, the round table at the other end, and the clothing of the- wait, what?

I focused in on the two other figures present. The one who drew my immediate attention was sitting directly on the opposite end of the car, a balding old man hunched over the table, steepling his gloved hands beneath a nose that was far, far too big. It protruded directly out of his face, nearly four inches long.

As if to provide contrast to her elder's bizarre appearance, a blonde, primly dressed woman was sitting perpendicular to him at my right, similarly garbed in a deep blue. Comparatively, she looked completely normal, if not overly formal and composed. Indeed, both of them were almost unnaturally still with their eyes closed, the only hint of their continued existence being their pristine composure and posture.

Finally, the old man's eyes opened to look directly at me. His eyes were round and quite bloodshot, as if he'd not slept in weeks, though nothing in his posture indicated such a thing. His mouth widened to a smile as he started to speak.

"Welcome to the Velvet Room."

His voice was, among many other things, rich. It would've been quite soothing if not for the sharp inflections that would smoothly jolt any daydreamer back into full attention.

The old man examined me for a few moments before arching an eyebrow suddenly. "Oh my, it seems we have quite a unique guest visiting us today," he chuckled and lowered his hands to address me fully. "My name is Igor, and I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Igor slightly bowed his head as he made his introduction. I nearly bowed back before realizing the futility of the action.

If he could read my body language, if, indeed, I actually had a body at present, he showed no acknowledgement of my hesitance as he waved a hand to draw attention to the room itself. He continued, "This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a room that only those who are bound by a 'contract' may enter. It is quite possible that such a fate awaits you in the near future." Igor slightly cocked his head toward me. "Now then," he entreated, "why don't you introduce yourself, hmm?"

I briefly pondered that I was being asked to introduce myself to someone who my mind made up, but even asleep, my brain functioned well enough to understand the absurdity of applying logic to any dream, even one of mine.

Two words came floating to the top of my limited consciousness and I spoke them aloud.

"Naoto Seta."

Igor lightly chuckled, "Ah, I see. Well, then, let's take a look at your future, shall we?" He procured a small deck of cards from his sleeve. They had an intricate, symmetrical design on the back with what looked like a theatre mask in the center. "Do you believe in fortune telling?" Igor inquired as he began to smoothly shuffle the cards with practiced ease.

'Not particularly, no,' I quietly thought to myself. I was by default disinclined to believe in anything that wasn't proven in some way, and fortune telling was one of those annoying "well you can't disprove it, can you?" things that the irrationally minded clung to as a way to make sense of the things that happened to them. I refrained from saying as much out loud.

Igor continued nonplussed at the lack of an answer. "Each reading is done with the same cards, yet the result is always different." He let out another small chuckle. "Life itself follows the same principles, doesn't it?"

Now finished with his perfunctory shuffling, he smoothly laid out the first seven cards face-down on the table in a circular formation with one card in the center. With a flick of his wrist, the rest of the deck disappeared into nothing. Igor reached for the far card on my right and flipped it over, revealing a somewhat crude pictorial representation of a tall building being destroyed by a massive lightning strike, along with the Roman numerals XVI on the bottom.

The old man's eyebrows suddenly arched. "Hm, The Tower in the upright position in a placement representing the immediate future. It seems that a terrible catastrophe is imminent," he said with a serious face. He quickly moved to the next card in the sequence. He continued, "The card indicating the future beyond that is..." and flipped that card as well. This one had the number XVIII on it with a crescent moon in the center with a face on it.

"The Moon, in the upright position." Igor elaborated, "This card represents 'hesitation,' and 'mystery.' Very interesting indeed." He turned his attention back to me. "It seems you will encounter a terrible misfortune at your destination, and a great mystery will be imposed on you. In the coming days, you will enter into a contract of some sort, after which you will return here. The coming year is a turning point in your destiny, and if the mystery goes unsolved, your future may be forever lost. My duty is to provide assistance to our guests to ensure that does not happen."

As I started to reel from the intricacy of this dream, Igor suddenly snapped his fingers. "Ah, I have neglected to introduce my assistant to you." He extended a hand in the direction of the blonde woman. "This is Margaret. She is a resident of this place, like myself."

The woman fully turned to me and said, "My name is Margaret. I am here to accompany you on your quest."

Her brief self-introduction over, Igor formally concluded his speech. "We shall attend the details at another time. And until then, farewell." Igor bowed his head as my vision started to dim slowly into nothingness.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

My eyes shot open. A quick glance of my surroundings confirmed I was back on the train and not still in that weird limo.

I breathed a sigh of relief. As unique as the dream was, it was more than a little disconcerting. For a moment, I ruefully wondered if my brain was simply trying to cope with the stress. I was already painfully aware that I had a tendency to work myself up, and I'd been trying to counteract it, but it was starting to seem like I would never be able to change that fact. Recent events hadn't exactly had a relaxing effect on me either. Surprises rarely do, especially big ones. For example, I certainly hadn't expected my mother to ship me off to live with her brother for an entire year in a small town in the middle of nowhere while she worked overseas.

Well, I was surprised that it happened, but not entirely shocked at my mother's willingness to do so.

I glanced out the window and couldn't help but smile wistfully. A bright green field of grassy hills stretched out in front of me. 'Well,' I thought, 'at least the view's not bad.' I supposed this was one redeeming factor of the locale. And even better, it looked quiet. Sitting under a tree and just soaking in the silence could be pretty relaxing. With a book. Or three. My bright view turned pitch black as the train entered a tunnel, and that was the end of that.

Though this was far from my first time moving to a new town, this was the first time I'd be staying with people I'd never met before. I only really got a few cursory details about my uncle and young cousin when my mother was still trying to sell me on the idea.

Her brother, Ryotaro Dojima, was a detective for the Inaba Police Department, which, in all honesty, I had to admit was pretty cool. His wife had actually passed away a few years back, and he now lived alone with their only child, a little girl named Nanako, who was about seven. While further prodding revealed that my mom didn't really know anything else about his life and hadn't even met Nanako once, I did find out that Ryotaro was a pretty brash kid, full of passion and his ideals. Or, at least, that was what I surmised from what my mother told me, and, more importantly, how she said it. I didn't miss the slight clenching of her teeth as she described his "stubbornness." It was obvious that the two of them had a somewhat stressed relationship, probably stretching back to their childhoods. They had no doubt butted heads on more than one occasion.

While I didn't have any overt evidence to think the company would be unpleasant, there were still a couple of causes for alarm. Firstly, Inaba was a town very far removed from the metropolis I was used to. It was relatively small with a very quiet, rural lifestyle. While the quietness wouldn't go unappreciated, it came at the price of a lack of actual things to do. I had done some research on the town, and it seemed that the only distinguishing landmark was the Amagi Inn, which would hardly be of any use to me. There were no cinemas and only one public library other than the small and mostly academic one at Yasogami High, where I would be going for the duration of my junior year.

I sighed, depressed at the thought. My entire junior year. That would be the second reason I was not looking forward to this. A year spend in a place with very little to do did not entice me in the slightest. Beyond any desire I had for isolation and silence, I needed something to do.

And it was fortunate that this train trip was so long, as it gave me time to prepare to meet the people I would be living with for a whole year. And by "prepare," I really meant "postpone thinking about lest I give myself a damn anxiety attack." Ever since I was young, I had rarely been able to talk with people without either driving them off with the sheer force of my conversational awkwardness or panicking and saying something exceedingly stupid. I could usually maintain a somewhat decent barrier of politeness, but when that broke, I had nothing. Now I just tended to avoid personal interactions whenever possible. It certainly annoyed my socialite mother to no end, but I had long gotten over that particular disappointment.

But something that worried me way more than I'd ever be willing to admit was how the two Dojima's taking me in would react to it. At best, they would respect that and just keep their distance. That really was the best I could hope for. I had endured enough attempts at a forced relationship from people who clearly didn't want to understand me at all.

Suddenly, I heard a voice coming over the intercom.

"We will arrive in the Yasogami Terminal in a few minutes. Passengers headed for Inaba City, and Yasoinaba Station, please go to the other side of the platform."

I looked at my watch. It flashed 3:58 PM at me in its blue neon light. Just a few minutes ahead of schedule, then. According to the text message I had received, I was to be picked up at the train station at four. I allowed myself a brief moment of resignation before standing up and reaching for my bag in the overhead bin.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The bright glare of the sun assaulted my eyes as I walked out of the train station, duffel bag in hand. I winced, holding a hand up as a shield. 'Damn, I should really get a hat or something.'

A male voice called out to me.

"Hey! Over here!"

I picked my head up at the noise, honing in on the man waving at me. He seemed to be somewhere in his forties, dressed in a suit with his free hand draping his jacket over his shoulder, and clearly shared my mother's black hair color. Hiding behind him was a little, brown-haired girl, peeking her head out, looking at me cautiously. Ryotaro Dojima and his daughter, Nanako, obviously.

I walked over to them, the familiar feeling of trepidation already starting to buzz inside me. I immediately tried to suppress it as best I could. I repeated a mantra in my head. 'First impressions are important. First impressions are important. Come on, Naoto. You can handle this.'

My uncle waited for me to reach them and smiled warmly. "Hello, Naoto. Welcome to Inaba. I'm Ryotaro Dojima, and I'll be taking care of you for the next year."

I bowed slightly, "Thank you for your hospitality, Dojima-san."

Dojima raised an eyebrow, and, much to my surprise, let out a hearty laugh. "Ha-ha. No need to be so formal. I've changed your diapers before, you know."

I opened my mouth, jaw working soundlessly for a second, and closed it again. I panicked slightly. 'How the hell am I supposed to respond to that?' Fortunately, it seemed I wouldn't have to, as Dojima stepped to the side and nudged the previously hiding little girl in front of him. He continued, "This is my daughter. Come on, Nanako. Introduce yourself to your cousin."

Nanako's eyes glanced up at mine and immediately looked back down. She squirmed a bit. "...hello." she managed to say, before quietly darting back behind her father's back.

Dojima chuckled. "What are you so shy for?"

Nanako's head simply retreated further out of view.

He sighed wearily. "Ah, well. Let's be off then. My car's just around the corner." He turned to offer his hand to Nanako, which she clung to, and walked off, leaving me to follow behind.

Even as we walked, my tense mood did nothing to relax. 'Okay, okay, calm down. That wasn't so bad. You didn't say anything stupid.' I paused. 'Well, you didn't really say much of anything, but that's all right. It'll be fine. I think.'

As my mind circled itself in truly dizzying self-analysis, I started to become vaguely aware that Nanako was not-so-subtly glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. Any curiosity on Nanako's part was understandable, as was any nervousness. 'I would imagine that having a stranger move into your house would rankle anyone's nerves, especially for one so young. Though that might just be me,' I pondered with a frown. Anything could set off my nerves.

'First impressions, Naoto!' I turned to her and gave a little smile, causing her to again tear her gaze away with a blush. Despite myself, I couldn't help but give a small chuckle at my cousin's shyness. A lot like me at that age. Hopefully, she would eventually be able to get over that timidity.

Just as I never really did.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Compared to the series of train rides I had endured that day, the drive back to the Dojima household was relatively short. Dojima had even tried to strike up a conversation with me a few times along the way by asking me questions, like about how my mother was doing, but my concise two word answers pretty much put a stop to that. He didn't seem too put off by it, at least. We actually had to stop about ten minutes in at "Moel" gas station after Nanako announced that she had to use the restroom and that no, she couldn't wait until she got back home.

I didn't really need to stretch my legs after so short of a trip, so I just remained in the car as Nanako went inside, Dojima wandered off somewhere, and a gas station attendant with a very interesting hair color filled up the gas tank. Out of curiosity, I had glanced up at him, only to find him looking right at me. I'm almost certain the windows of Dojima's car were completely tinted from the outside, and the silver-haired attendant's gaze immediately shifted away, but it still freaked me out a bit.

Eventually though, we finally arrived at the Dojima household.

"Alright, we're here." Dojima said as he shifted the car into park while Nanako began to unbuckle. I glanced out the window. It was a decently sized house that didn't really stand out in any way. My kind of place, really.

I got out of the car after grabbing my bag and followed my two relatives to the door, but as soon as I got to the door itself, my body tensed up and refused to move any further. Swallowing heavily, I stared at the open door.

'Gods, this is weird.'

'Come on, Naoto, just walk in the door.'

'I've never even been in this place, I don't really know anything about these people, and they don't know anything about me.'

'They're your family!'

My internal struggle was interrupted when I felt a sudden pressure on my right shoulder. It took only a moment to realize that it was definitely a hand. Panicked, I whirled my body around to see… nothing and no one there. I looked up and down the street, but I was utterly alone. My mouth gaped like a fish. Was that really my imagination?

'Evidence suggests that it was, Naoto. I highly suggest relaxing a bit so your body stops making up excuses to freak out,' said the admittedly more rational part of my brain.

A male voice came from behind me.

"Everything all right here?"

I turned around to find Dojima standing in the doorway with a slightly concerned look on his face. I felt my face grow warm.

"Ah, y-yes it is. Thought I heard something," I replied uneasily, starting to walk into the door but hesitating once again at the threshold.

Dojima's expression quickly turned into one of understanding, and he smiled warmly. "This is your home now, you know. Come on in."

I flushed again. 'Great one. First day here and you already look like a damn fool.'

Still tense, I managed to take a step forward into their home.

"I'm home," I mumbled quietly to myself. Not nearly quietly enough though.

"Welcome home," said Dojima cheerily, to my immediate and infinite dismay.

While I struggled to solve the mystery of why the hell I would say something so stupidly cliché, Dojima turned around to head into the main area of the house. After a moment, I began to follow him.

My mind flashed back to my little scene outside on the street. It certainly qualified as strange. I could have sworn I had felt something on my shoulder, and I didn't think I was really that tired.

I did recall one image from when I turned my head around though. It was of a vacant street, and a flash of silver at the very corner of my peripheral vision, fully disappearing by the time I had turned my head around completely.

I shook my head to clear out these extraneous thoughts. It was really not necessary to find something extra to worry about on top of the already considerable stress that coming to this town was causing me.

After stopping to slip my shoes off, I walked into the main room, where Nanako was already switching on the TV, much to Dojima's exasperation. Just like the exterior of the house, the inside was pretty nondescript and ordinary. The small kitchen to my left, the dinner table, the other dinner table, and the living room were all cozily squeezed into the same general area, with only a change of flooring actually marking where the living room began.

Dojima turned back at me. "Well," he said with the smile that he always seemed to have, "Kitchen and living room are here, bathroom's to your right, and all the bedrooms are up those stairs. Come on," he beckoned me over to the stairs, "I'll show you to your room and let you get settled."

I mutely followed him, clutching my bag and climbing the small staircase. He led me into a room at the top of the stairs and flicked on the light. I took a step in and looked inside. The room actually a lot nicer than I thought it would be, with a small couch, work desk, futon, and a small TV on top of the dresser. A few large, unopened boxes were sitting by the couch. They were undoubtedly holding all the clothing and other miscellaneous items that my mother decided to send over, and a couple dozen books from my personal library that I decided to send over. I had already read them all, so they were more of a last resort, something to turn to should all of my other avenues of entertainment run dry.

Let it not be said that I don't properly prepare for every eventuality.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. I'll call up when it is," he said as he walked out of the room. I closed the door behind him and looked around once again.

'Not too bad,' I thought, pleasantly surprised. My new room had everything I could need, sans a few… particular things that I had the foresight to pack and ship here.

I only just started to set up my ever-present laptop, which was one of those particular things, when Dojima called up that dinner was ready. I sighed dejectedly. Part of me had been hoping to lose myself in a game for a bit, but it would seem that the day was not quite over yet. Still, I supposed that I should probably abstain from isolating myself so soon after arriving, and I was fully aware that my laptop had exactly that effect on me.

With admittedly great reluctance, I trudged downstairs to eat. Dinner looked to be one of those pre-bought meals at supermarkets, but I was fine with that. I was plenty used to them. Besides, Dojima didn't strike me as much of a cook, and Nanako was seven.

Soon after we began to eat, Dojima spoke up. "So, Naoto. Your mom's working overseas, was it?"

I looked up. "Uh, yes. In America."

"Yeah, that certainly sounds like her," he said with a slight frown on his face. It seemed like my theory on the relationship between the two of them was pretty spot on. Dojima cleared his throat and said, "Listen, I know it's gotta be a bit rough to move all the way out here when you don't have much choice in the matter, even if it's only for a year. I can't imagine you'd be super excited about this. But, even so, Nanako and I are both happy to have you. You're part of the family now, so make yourself at home."

For a second time that day, I had no idea how to respond. As I struggled to form a response, a cell phone suddenly started ringing. His perpetual smile immediately melted into a grimace.

"Ugh, who's calling so late?" He flipped his phone open and brought it to his ear. "Dojima speaking... Oh, I see. Where was she last seen?... All right, I'll be right there."

He snapped the phone shut and looked at both of us with a slightly guilty look on his face. "Sorry you two, but I've got to go take care of some business. Go ahead and eat without me. I don't know how late I'll be." He turned to his daughter. "Nanako, help her out tonight, okay?"

Nanako noticeably wilted before saying, "Okay."

Dojima smiled. "Knew I could count on you. Well, I'm off." He grabbed his jacket and rushed to the door. After he opened it I heard the soft pitter-patter of raindrops falling outside. Dojima turned back to us. "It's raining out. Nanako, what did you do with the laundry?"

"I already brought it in!" she replied with a hint of pride. This response surprised me a little, but not too much. Single parent children were usually forced to have more responsibility around the house, especially if their parent has a busy job. I knew from personal experience, spending many nights alone while my mother worked late. I hadn't seen my father since my parents divorced, so there really wasn't anyone else to take care of me. I learned to take care of myself, and it seemed it was the same for Nanako.

"Ah, good job. See you guys later." Dojima walked out and closed the door behind him, leaving Nanako and I utterly alone in an uncomfortable silence only filled by the muted raindrops outside. I turned to Nanako, only to see she had already grabbed the remote and was switching on the TV.

'Damn, she moves fast,' I thought, smirking slightly. When the weather channel came up and the anchor started talking about the rain that was expected to continue throughout all of tomorrow, my cheery disposition soured considerably. Fortunately, Nanako did not seem to sense the dark storm cloud that was my current mood.

"Let's eat," said Nanako. After an additional moment of righteous indignation at the Inaba weather system, I started to calm down and eat my meal.

Without anything else to focus on, my attention soon locked back onto the TV, as the prospect of starting a conversation wasn't very appealing to me. The weather report was over and the anchors were discussing a political scandal that seemed to be big news, showing photos of a man in a suit and a beautiful woman in a red kimono.

The reporter began speaking, "... City council secretary Taro Namatame is under fire for an alleged relationship with a female reporter. His wife, enka ballad sensation Misuzu Hiiragi, revealed to this station that she will likely pursue damages."

'Huh,' I thought, 'I guess that even small towns like this have their political scandals. This might be interesting.' I had something of a budding fascination with politics, as lame as that was. The reporter continued.

"In response, Eye Television has decided to cancel all of announcer Mayumi Yamano's televised appearances. Until allegations of an affair with Mr. Namatame are resolved, she'll remain off the air and out of the public eye."

Apparently, Nanako did not share my interest.

"This is boring," she cut in before flipping to another channel. A bright and cheery commercial for Junes popped up, with a peppy voice saying, "At Junes, every day is Customer Appreciation Day! Come see for yourself, and get in touch with our products!" And then, that godforsaken jingle played, taunting me. " Every day's great at your Junes! " Ugh. Nanako brightened considerably though.

" Every day's great at your Junes! " Nanako sang cheerfully, all traces of shyness and apathy gone from her, just because of a TV jingle she liked.

I started to smile at this display of childish innocence, but then a spike of pain shot through my skull. My eyes clenched shut as I winced, and I brought my hand up to my forehead. Then, a wave of nausea assaulted my stomach and I doubled over.

"Are you okay?" asked Nanako, clearly alarmed, but I could barely hear her through the inferno my mind had suddenly become.

Through willpower alone I managed to force myself to take deep breaths as slowly as I could manage, if only to prevent myself from puking my dinner all over their carpet. That would've been an embarrassment from which I'd never have been able to recover. Beyond that one conscious thought, all of my senses were almost completely drowned out by the pounding in my head and the riot in my stomach.

It was only when I finally recovered enough to open my eyes again that I realized a few things. I was lying on the ground on my side, my face was covered in sweat, and Nanako was kneeling next to me with her hand on my shoulder, in a panic.

I reflexively flinched away from the physical contact and quickly scrambled to sit back up, suppressing the returning nausea. Nanako looked at me with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine, I think," I said, hastily trying to placate her while wiping the sweat off my forehead.

Nanako frowned. "Um, do you want some water?"

I gave a grateful smile and said, "Ah, yes please." Nanako jumped up and ran to the kitchen, leaving me to get to the crux of the matter.

'That… was weird. What the hell could have caused that?' I struggled to come up with a probable explanation, and sighed. 'I guess I'm even more stressed out than I thought. Either that, or I'm actually ill.' Neither were very attractive possibilities. I hated crowds and I hated being the new kid more, but missing the first days of the year and starting late would only make me stand out more.

Nanako returned with a clear glass of water, which I hastily accepted and gulped down. The water wasn't very cold, but it did help settle my stomach. I looked back down at my food, before deciding emphatically that I probably shouldn't eat anything else tonight. It was a shame to leave it only half-finished, but should something like that happen again, I didn't want to have a whole lot of food in my stomach.

I then realized how exhausted my little episode had left me.

I looked at Nanako. "Thanks. I… I think I should go to bed early tonight," I said and stood up. Nanako hesitated, but nodded.

"Okay," she said, still looking at me with concern. I supposed that was understandable given she just watched me go spasming to the ground with no warning. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I replied, and walked up the stairs.

When I reached my door, I remembered with some guilt that I was leaving Nanako to clean up dinner by herself. I sighed. Nothing I could really do about it at this point. 'I'll make it up to her later,' I promised silently. I walked in the room, willfully ignoring the temptation of my laptop, undressed and soon got comfortable under the blankets.

Slowly falling into slumber, I could only hope that I could get through this year without major incident.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Meanwhile, in the Velvet Room...

After their guest left, all pretenses dropped, yet Igor still sat in complete silence. This was not unusual, for ever since Margaret had been called to serve Igor, she had known he had a naturally solemn demeanor. What was unusual, unprecedented even, was this slight but definitely present feeling of tension emanating from him. Igor had what humans would call an expert poker face, and Margaret knew with near certainty the only things she saw of him were things he chose to show her. So if Margaret could detect this change in Igor, there could only be one possible reason for that.

Igor was worried. Really worried.

There was little doubt as to what the source of his concern was. Even Margaret had been a bit surprised when she saw the nature of their guest, this "Naoto Seta." It was something that they certainly hadn't expected, and something that might grow into a big problem later on. For something so significant to escape his foresight, Margaret struggled to reconcile it. Even so, they might have to change their future plans soon, so Margaret began to speak.

"What do you intend to do in light of this?"

Igor did not respond. And so Margaret waited. About a minute passed before Igor finally spoke. "I'm not fully sure."

Margaret frowned. Yet another unexpected occurrence. She had never seen her master like this. At this rate, Igor might have to contact his master for assistance, though even that might not yield any fruitful results. The Velvet Room was one of the only methods he had to impact the progression of events. Beyond that, his influence was limited.

"Shall we contact Master Philemon?" she asked.

Another long pause.

"...perhaps," Igor eventually conceded. "Though it may be possible that some path can be determined from the cards of our guest." He leaned forward and reached for the third card in the sequence, the card that was supposed to represent the distant future.

Margaret had assumed that most of the 'fortune telling' Igor had performed was mostly for show and for the benefit of their guest. It did indeed carry the feel and script of a predetermined performance rather than a genuine divination of the future. Her intuition told her that Igor felt much the same way.

But, despite herself, she could not help but hold her breath in anticipation. Because if there were ever a place where fate could override chance, it was the Velvet Room.

Igor raised the edge of the card to view its face, which remained hidden from her view. Margaret held no illusions that this was unintentional.

A few seconds later, Igor smiled. The tension in his body started to melt away.

And then, something happened. Nothing could have prepared either of them for it. For it was something so ludicrous, so preposterously unlikely that nothing but the influence of Fate could have made it happen.

The card fell back down away from Igor's hand, revealing a second card that had been stuck to the back of the first one.

And Igor's smile disappeared completely.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A/N: And here is the inaugural chapter of my first ever full series: The Hills of Inaba. I've been working on this chapter for a very long time, because I have both a perfectionist and a procrastinator streak, but I'm finally biting the bullet and putting this out there to get the ball rolling.

Just to clarify, the main premise behind this story's creation is that Naoto Shirogane takes the place of Souji Seta (aka the canon protagonist of Persona 4), turning her into Naoto Seta. This is basically done to give the reins of the Investigation Team to Naoto from the start. Don't worry though, Souji will show up sooner or later.

As you might have noticed already, Naoto Seta has many differences from the canon Naoto Shirogane. This is mainly done because so much about canon Naoto comes from her backstory. I confess I might be funneling some of my own personality into her, but then again, I consider myself to be of the same arcana as she. Bonus points to whoever can deduce which arcana that is (Hint: It isn't what it is canonically). Appearance-wise, Naoto Seta looks basically the same as Naoto Shirogane, except slightly older, no hat, and wears girls clothing.