A/N: Just so it's completely clear, this story takes place during the game, at a point after Serge gets his own body back but before Dario is found to be alive in the Home World. I dedicate it to anyone who's ever taken Karsh to the fortuneteller in Termina and wondered what the heck she was talking about.


Chapter 1: If That Wasn't Total BS…

It was a sunny Termina afternoon. The merchants were out in full force, trying to drum up business from locals and tourists alike. Kids were playing in the streets, too wrapped up in their games to move aside for the hurried townspeople. And one blue-haired boy, as far as Karsh was concerned, was wasting a hell of a lot of time.

Serge had summoned him and Orlha to go and slay a tough monster up at Earth Dragon Isle. But first, for some completely unknown reason, he was taking them to the fortuneteller's booth. Karsh tapped his foot loudly and impatiently as he waited in the line behind him. What was the point of this?

"Damn it, junior, what are we doing here?" he grumbled. "Weren't you gonna take us to fight that Criosphinx thing?"

What Serge didn't seem to get was, he was a top dragoon with a lot to do. Yeah, he'd offered to lend his skills when needed, but that didn't mean he appreciated being dragged around on trivial little errands that weren't going to accomplish anything.

"…"

Serge merely glanced at Karsh before turning right back around without a word. This kid was getting on his last nerve with his pointless excursions. Word on the street was that Lord Viper had been called on the other day to assist the party, and all they'd done was retrieve part of a skeleton. All-important savior of the world or not, somebody had to put Serge in his place. You just didn't drag the freaking ruler of El Nido away from his work to pick up a lousy pelvic bone.

"I said, what are we…"

Serge walked up to the fortuneteller, ignoring the question. Needless to say, Karsh wasn't exactly pleased.

Orlha laughed at the scene. "You know he doesn't talk much."

Karsh grinned as he thought about just how great it would be to give junior a piece of his mind right now. The kid wouldn't say anything back. His smile then faded as he realized he was at the front of the line. He wasn't about to put up with this nonsense.

"We don't have to do this, do we?" He stepped aside. After all, why would Serge care what the fortuneteller had to say to them?

"Aw, just go along with it," Orlha nudged him, urging him back towards the booth. "Who knows, it might be fun."

"Or not."

No way was he giving in to her prodding. When Karsh had last visited that fortuneteller several years ago, she'd warned him of a dangerous trip into the outdoors. Looking back, she'd probably been talking about that hellish mission to the Isle of the Damned, but she sure hadn't bothered to say so. He'd quit following the advice when one day, remembering the old woman's words, he'd decided to forget practicing his axe-wielding in the forest outside the manor and stick to the dragoon quarters instead. It had been just one wayward strike, and… well, he didn't like to talk about it. Zoah'd had to wear a mask on his face ever since.

"Your turn. Get in there!"

He was wondering what had made Zoah pick one that looked like a deformed kettle when Orlha caught him off guard. With one shove of a deceptively ladylike hand, she thrust him right in front of the fortuneteller.

He wasn't used to girls being so physical with him. Of course, it didn't help that he spent so much time around Lady Riddel, who was polite and refined as they came. She wouldn't lay a hand on him.

It was too bad.

And there he went again. Even when she wasn't around, even when he had all the trouble in the world to worry about, even when he forced his mind onto other stuff, it all seemed to come back to her.

Riddel. He'd been her friend a long time, and loved her for longer. And after all these years, nothing had ever come of it.

Sure, he'd never really gone after her in the first place, but it was probably better that he didn't. He was damn near certain that she saw him as a friend and nothing more. There was no point in saying anything if he'd just get shut down and possibly even ruin what he did have in the process. And so he hadn't told Riddel how he felt. Maybe he never would.

"Do you want your fortune told, young man, or have you come to stand here and hold up my line?" Karsh was suddenly aware of the wrinkled woman's eerie stare fixed upon him. It was like she was looking straight into his soul, and he didn't like the feeling one bit.

"Fine! What is it?" He made sure his annoyed tone clearly told her that he didn't care less. In return, he got her famous cryptic expression and a fortune that was vague as hell.

"A change in fashion will blossom a new love."

"What the…" he muttered, stepping back to get the heck out of there. What was that supposed to mean?

Orlha got her reading next, and rejoined the party with a huge smile on her face. Hers had apparently been either overwhelmingly positive or flat out hilarious.

"Ridiculous, right?" Karsh turned to her. "If that wasn't total BS, I don't know what is."

"No, I think the woman really knew her stuff. I mean, how could she have guessed that I have a 'missing counterpart'?" she gushed, ecstatic at the fortuneteller's prediction of a reunion with her long-lost twin. "And you never know," she gave Karsh a meaningful look, "maybe a little change of fashion would get Lady Riddel to see you as more than a friend for once."

She knew?

"The hell are you talking about? When did I say I wanted that?" Karsh was so taken aback, he didn't realize soon enough that such an impassioned response would betray his feelings more than hide them. How could she know how he felt about Riddel?

"You don't have to. I just know." Orlha laughed at his all-too-predictable reaction, which told her she'd been absolutely right about his weakness for the noble lady. "I'm a bartender, Karsh. I get customers with problems like this every day."

Well… ah, you're wrong," Karsh stammered out. "I mean, sure I care about her, but not like that!"

Judging by Orlha's expression, he'd hadn't been the least bit convincing. Now what?

"…"

Serge regarded the two warriors with impatience, pointing at a rowboat waiting in the distance.

"I think that means we leave now," Orlha guessed.

Karsh had never been so glad to be wordlessly interrupted by their silent leader.

The rest of the journey was unusually quiet. Karsh was lost in thought, Orlha knew better than to piss him off any further, and Serge was, well, Serge.

As Karsh did his part to take down the monsters crawling all over Earth Dragon Isle, he kept getting distracted by the same darned thing. Was he that obvious?

What Orlha had said had come as a bit of a shock. He couldn't remember anything he'd said or done that would've given him away. Yeah, he was a bit protective of Riddel at times. But that was technically part of his duties as a dragoon, and everyone knew he took his job seriously. So how could he be so transparent?

And, more importantly, could Riddel have figured him out, too?

Nah, he reassured himself, she was probably still in the dark. She still treated him same as always, and with her sincere personality, she wouldn't be able to hide the fact that she knew for a second.

Most people probably didn't pick up this kind of thing as quickly as Orlha did, Karsh told himself, trying to stop his worrying and concentrate on the task at hand. Like she said, she was a bartender. Dealing with other people's troubles was practically her job.

He had to wonder how she'd deal with that fortune, if she were in his shoes. It was hard to believe that a different set of clothes would be enough to make Riddel fall for him. Heck, the lady might not have even been talking about Riddel in the first place. She'd just said "a new love." But then, who else could it be? There weren't many other girls he saw often enough for something like that to happen.

While Karsh was busy contemplating all of this, Orlha barely managed to stop an unnoticed Rockroach from tearing his leg off.

"Thinking about her?" she winked. He couldn't get anything past this chick.

"About who?" he almost tried, but he doubted she'd buy that kind of crap after the way she'd read his mind so far. Instead, he shot her a glare, which didn't help much.

She finished off the creature with a flurry of punches. "You could be a little less rude to me, considering I just saved your ass."

Even Serge laughed at that. It was the closest Karsh had ever seen the kid get to talking, and he had to look twice to make sure he wasn't imagining things. "Just tell me this, then," he began, all the while having to remind himself that it wouldn't kill him just to suck it up and ask. "How did you know?"

"Because you fall all over yourself trying to hide it."

After the way he'd acted back in Termina, he couldn't argue with that logic.

It was weird to finally be not hiding his feelings for Riddel after keeping it all to himself for so long. And as crazy as it sounded, it somehow felt… good. Kind of like a weight off his shoulders, for lack of a less clichéd way to put it.

Well, as long as was letting go of his pride, he might as well go all the way. Yeah, he was going to ask Miss Bartender here for advice. What else did he have to lose at this point?

He knew it was just a fortune, there was no disputing that. But if the old lady turned out to be right—and he had heard a few stories where she'd predicted the future pretty darn well—he'd have everything he ever wanted. Was there really any harm in trying a new outfit or two?

"So you think I should give this 'change in fashion' thing a shot?" Karsh focused his attention on a monster creeping nearby, knowing how lame he must have sounded.

Orlha took note of Karsh's apparent embarrassment, but decided not to give him a hard time about it. She'd hassled him enough for one day.

"It couldn't hurt, could it?"