Maybe the finer details didn't matter.

She glanced over to him, with the objects of her thoughts shuffling in his hands.

To her, it never hurt to ask questions.

Or sometimes it did, like if the question was blasphemous.

Yet, this was him.

He wouldn't find it in his heart to judge her curiosities, never had, and it was how the best lf their conversations started.

Better now than never.

"You know, isn't it kind of silly? I guess it's charming...but what does it mean?"

"Go on, Anzu.'

"I mean," she played with a button of her blouse

"The Heart of the Cards!" Am I right? I'm sure you won that tournament because of, y'know, skill?"

"And faith?" Yet his tone was a bit humorous. Quizzical. Not too serious.

"..Yeah" she readjusted on the bed, curiously moving (almost rolling, she was lying down) closer, watching him shuffle a Celtic guardian between some magic cards.

He was apprehensive yet calm at her indifference, and she was honestly expecting a little more friction, in the conversation?

They were talking THE Heart of the Cards for goodness sake. The very philosophy she could've sworn her friends hinged their very lives on, at least thrice.

"Did I mention it at some point, today?"

"No, and not this time. No one really mentions it anymore. Its like…now that there's nothing at stake…"

He set the cards aside, in the space between them on the quilted blanket.

"What brought this on?"

"Did we ever really understand it?"

"Uhm." He sounded guilty

"I, no, I don't think so."

"I just don't get it. I never did." She said like balancing hot water.

"I believed, sure, but..?"

He 'hm'd', drawing a finger across the blanket, past the cards, and to her hand. She linked their contact.

"Does it need to make sense entirely?"

"It should to some degree. Especially if "it", was something we stapled to our caskets"

The metaphor was perhaps too grim. Tragic things certainly did happen, and she was relieved he brushed it aside. It didn't seem to put him off, thankfully.

"You want it narrowed down to a science then?"

He smirked, and she could already feel his taunt, and the punchline rhyme with Seto Kaiba.

"Gosh, no"

She poked out her tongue, glaring dull daggers at him and his amused smile.

"please don't mansplain the intricate dynamics of trading cards, to me.

And unlike him, I do want to know the logistics, even if they're, um, hardly ethical.

Even that doesn't make sense—

Did we not just… throw our hopes around, guessing they would stick?"

And he seemed to soften at that, propping his head up on a hand in intrigue. She loved when he looked so invested, as if nothing in that moment could mean more.

"I can show you?"

That was how she ended up snugged close. She adjusted, the trophy cards now in her hand.

"Is...this fine?"

"Yes. Yes you are fine."

She crossed her legs, snuggling near while still being somewhat mindful of space.

He didn't seem to mind her closeness, but it never hurt to be weary.

"These cards are precious to you..." She smoothed a finger atop the dueling instrument, curious as to which character it was that lead the stack. A magician, maybe?

She felt a chin on her shoulder, his patient breaths on her neck. Without looking, it wasn't hard to guess those violet-red eyes meticulously watching her every move as she examined the bundle.

"...like totems of good and bad luck."

She whispered, mesmerized, taking in the odd energy felt from the deck.

An energy, yes, ribboning around her fingers.

It was strange, enrapturing, how capable she felt when closing her eyes. To hold something of such history.

Hope, fun, and agony, and they felt like something.

Deep down, she knew these slivers of paper and plastic were not sentient but...weird then.

"You can trust me with them, I promise."

"I know. Anzu, do you believe in fate?"

Existential, right off the bat.

"I...don't think anything is set in stone, not really."

"Nothing?"

"Well, It can't be."

She felt so weightless as it stood. Like his warmth drew her in. Her fingers ran over the textures of rough paper edges in contemplation. She wanted her words to make sense; his listening stillness just gave that weird sense of responsibility.

"I mean, y'know how every little thing matters, at the end of the day. And even every hour?"

"Yes. Every minute, too."

"Yeah, like the butterfly effect, it all builds up.

So, If something as small as not turning off a light, or ordering a new bobba tea flavor can change the entire direction of your day, and then say that day changes your entire life; how is it that everything we do leads back to one absolute?"

"Hm."

"I mean, if you really work for one outcome, then how can anything other than yourself determine what happens today, or tomorrow? Isn't life just too random for that?"

"This is beyond just cards?"

"Yeah. "

All of those times she cheered him on, it was because she believed in him.

He saved them.

He...

"It's also about you...You stayed."

He smiled against her shoulder. It seemed he was more comfortable like this; resting his arms around her broad shoulders just because the stature allowed it.

Clingy almost. But she didn't mind.

"Could it be, perhaps, that your assumption about everyday nuances and altercations, completes that of what is, fate?"

She barely registered that, too preoccupied noticing how he mindlessly played with her hair as he spoke. It was cute, silly.

"What do you mean?"

"If it all truly adds up,"

he began, voice sweet, kind, Inquisitive; the perfect talker

",Then the small things we neglect to control must build up into a one thing that we cannot prevent, and eventually, we realize we never had a say in the matter, no?"

And his quiet breaths were listening; intrigue hanging onto every word she would say. Strong silence fanning the flame to speak whatever her heart felt.

"That seems kind of hopeless, y'know?

What if, every time we do something that's spontaneous, or different enough from the norm; we create a new reality?"

"As in we see something undesirable, and change it before it happens?"

"Yeah?"

"That puts fate directly in our control."

"Yeah..."

"That isn't more intimidating?

What of the things we cannot control, the nuances that slip away from us? Fate is blameless, we are not."

"You really think so?"

"I...do you?"

He stayed.

Successfully changing his "fate."

Once, they talked at a humble cafe, and he mentioned how the unsureness of it put him at odds.

Having since conquered those fears, deciding a life for himself; she had almost forgotten how much it meant to him–– fate. Future. Doom. New begginings.

She saw it as this daunting wind, wishing to seize with it something very precious to her. But that wasn't his perspective, now was it?

Suddenly, her throat warmed with meanings, and with the only thing she could think of being a measly three words. Nothing felt like enough. She just f e l t.

"I dunno." Her voice bubbled with laughter, hesitance, a free hand gesturing over her knee. "I guess I'd just see it as dumb luck at that point."

"Luck, you say..."

"I mean, it has to be. If we think every little thing that happens around us has to do with our fate, we would go a little crazy trying to control it. It would be luck."

"And you wouldn't trust in that luck?"

"Of course not."

"Because you prefer structure, and routine. And you believe in one's will over the authority that is fate?"

"I...yeah." She warmed. Even if she wasn't looking at him, she felt eyes appreciating her; like an interesting book pried open.

Now,

It was really just her weakened heart and willingness to know everything inscribed on the pages of his perspective.

It mattered to her, and probably more than it should.

"You are certainly something, Anzu."

"My turn, Atem.

What does fate mean to you?"

"It is ever changing to me."

"That doesn't" she shuffled, "And that doesn't scare you?"

"No, It's why I no longer fear it. I am comfortable with the uncertainty of it"

"You sound so sure. Why, because you can always change it?"

"Yes." Two sides of the same coin.

"You had gods on your side, to be fair."

"Well." He smiled through his voice, and yet there was a reverence she couldn't place.

"Then perhaps it's just chance that I also had you."

It shot, no, circuited through her,

And she imagined her heart being taken directly from her chest, and then she tried to recall the last time he hadn't held it.

His words were sweet. Dangerous.

"…I'm just a person."

"So am I."

"You're everything—" she bit her lip. Her hypocrisy.

"Ah, unfair?"

Fingers slid between her own, under as well; working to entangle both of their hands around the deck. She closed her eyes again, ignoring the tingling warmth brought on by his actions. Ignoring the stinging in her eyes.

He had her. She couldn't even wriggle her way out of this one because she was being entirely unfair.

"I just meant that...it's easier to believe in someone you know than fate."

He saved them.

"Anzu…"

"I...only praise the happiness and hope that you bring me. But not you, I always loved you far too much for that."

He finally seemed to ease.

She continued.

"Do you really believe in it? The heart? Not judging."

"Believing in something to push one further is just human nature.

And when everyone's hopes had to be mine, I couldn't resist passing it on to something else. I'm just one person."

"It is irresponsible isn't it? to tie your faith to people."

"Much too frangible. People fail.

And when all seems hopeless..?"

"—I'd tell him he's doing great. That we love him. And I would know my words reached him. He could never really fail, me."

No hesitance in her speech. It seemed to draw him back a bit. She squeezed his hand in encouragement.

A small part of her wanted to end this conversation. She knew he would let her. But she also wanted to know the answer, and didn't he?

She didn't care about her vulnerability anymore.

"And so if i'm a hero, and you're my destiny, Anzu, then where does that leave us?"

I was sickly sweet, like being aged for too long before he finally said it.

It didn't ease her heart like the norm; it burned...

Her voice, now meek, seemed to encourage his arms tighter around her.

"Can I add onto that?"

"Feel obliged."

"It doesn't matter. I love you."

Her final answer, take it or leave it

He seemed pleased with it, wiping at the wetness that streamed her cheek.

Remembering back on that fateful day, and before then there was a night; a talk, upon a moonlit ship which sailed to his demise.

—destiny, she meant.

He hugged her then, too.

Told her he loved her then, too.

And then like now, it was a promise.

He kept that promise, somehow.

A commitment of some sort, and to all that was only her. He got a new life, of course and don't get her wrong she never thought so highly of herself. But...his destiny…what an irresponsible thing to say.

Now there was a force pushing back against her hands; welcoming and drawing her in all the same. Like weaving together doubts she never knew she had.

It was like two hearts, in her hands. Did it make sense? No.

These were just cards.

But then, things stopped making sense long ago.

She complain, feeling so close to him. His protection and keen sense of justice;

Another perception of love and existing

It was certainly one she'd always known but...

And yet it melded just so...

She appreciated him.

It was just, suddenly,

she really loved him very much...

She tugged her knees to her chest.

"You were a voice that pushed me towards the decision, not my ultimatum, but a light. Can I call you that, instead?"

"sure, but i'm a person first."

"Right, of course.

And you had something in your eyes that I couldn't leave until I fixed. I looked again, and then I couldn't leave.

Not a single regret, but, forgive me."

Apologetic lips, lightly amongst hair "how unfair of me..."

It wasn't unfair–– the absurdity of his words––it was too fair.

And if only she could find speech again; manage past the lump in her throat.

And if she could have her heart back that would be nice;

It didn't matter if he held it more gently than anyone ever, even herself, even anyone she's ever known including fate itself

She sat the cards down, finding one of his hands and treasuring it close to her heart.

She wanted to ask if he ever thought there'd be regrets to this; choosing her, as it seemed to contradict the very navigation of destiny that he preached.

It selfishly made her love him more.

"Anzu, you fear of losing me...You shouldn't."

"It almost doesn't make sense."

"Does it need to?"


Can't wait to see how this site butchers my prose this time.

2000 words? This is my shortest chapter yet!

Consider this a more analytical approach to whatever was going on with the inconsistencies of The Heart of the Cards.

Consider it whatever you want, but it isn't perfect romance...

I tried writing fluff and...yeah.

it's not LOL.

This is actually relatively warm compared to the angst i'm currently working on. Which is why I detoured to write it; needed something lighter TvT

Anyway, hope this one meant something!

Have a lovely one!