Her Circumstances

"Boss."

"Milady?"

They still got no response, although, they were laughing silently at Deb's smiling face while she stared at nowhere.

"Oi, crazy hag."

"Who said that?" Deb turned to them with a seemingly lethal glare. Gehenna, Bleid and Adalfieri didn't look at her. Their gaze jumped around the room, except to where she was. Giving up with the joke, Gehenna dropped a pile of papers on her desk.

"What's with the papers?" She asked, her eyebrows almost one.

"Transactions the boss could only deal with?" Gehenna retorted back.

She sighed. Her face as if disgusted.

"And by the way, milady, why don't you drop by the grocery now and buy us this stuffs?" It was Bleid, tossing her an almost endless list. And before she could refuse, she was left alone in his office. They're not actually treating their boss as a slave, right?

Deb couldn't help but scrutinize the dim-lighted inside of the tent where the fortune teller dragged her in. She wasn't sure how spacious the place was since being surrounded by old shelves almost ready to stumble on her didn't bring anything but fear for her life. Skull and bones, daggers, old leather-covered books, spider webs, oddly-designed necklaces, encrypted characters and unimaginable figurines were everywhere. In front of her was a dusty table where a white crystal ball and carelessly scattered cards were placed, to which beside it was an empty old chair.

The atmosphere inside was suffocating. She wanted to run away out of the horrible place, but the woman told her to wait. If she wasn't so vexed with her slave-driver slaves, she wouldn't waste her time like this. Either way, she had never been into a fortune teller's place. Curiosity was driving her to stay.

"Oho, you need not worry, dear. This won't take much time," the woman assured her, coming out from an entryway adorned with noisy beads and shell appendages. Despite the nerve-wrecking wait, Deb managed a smile. The woman had been leaving her for minutes, then she'll be back to disappear and reappear for the next time. The woman was wearing a wardrobe with all known colors visibly sparkling on it while on her head was an uncanny silky turbine adorned with several peacock feathers. Dangling feather earrings swayed on both her ears and on her slim arms were numerous varieties of bracelets.

Deb stared at her watch. It was four in the afternoon, and she'd been there for almost two hours! For Pete's sake, she wasted precious two hours of her life waiting for a fortune teller who might as well be just a fake. She was getting irritated but she tried to keep her cool. Her supposedly boredom should be displaced by amusement and yet this was all she got - a cheap scam that irritated her to death. The fortune teller was getting on her nerves.

"Excuse me, madame, if you won't start by now, I think I need to keep going." She was about to stood when she felt the woman's hand on her shoulders not permitting her to do so. The woman pushed her gently back down on the chair.

"Oh, please. Don't be in a hurry, dear."

She opened her mouth in protest but before words would come out, the woman signaled her to be silent. Deb did so obediently as she watched the woman sat elegantly on the chair before her.

"They call me Chiromante."

"I'm Deb," she replied briefly. Giving strangers her full name was just awkward. Furthermore, unsafe.

"I'm a fortune teller."

"Oh, great. I didn't know that. I thought you were some kind of sales agent," she wanted to reply in sarcasm. Seriously, that was insulting. It was like Chiromante was telling her that she didn't know that she was a fortune teller in the first place. Did she forget she introduced herself as a fortune teller when she dragged her inside that tent? Deb smiled reluctantly and sighed. "Whatever. Then tell me something about my fate, so I can get out of this tent and continue with my oh-so-not interesting life."

Chiromante didn't seem to mind the sarcasm in her voice. She almost jumped out of chair when the woman seized her hand and continually traced the lines in her palms with those cold fingers.

"You'll meet him in the most unusual way," her thick voice started.

The reluctant smile on Deb's face grew wider but Chiromante didn't seem to be bothered by that. She wasn't a teenager anymore to frenzy over fate and destinies. Deb was sure this was all a big scam, and like she'd believe it all. It's not going to be like the movies where the fortune teller's prediction actually came true in the end. Add that to the happy ending where the couple made it be together to the very last. She rolled her eyes with that thought. She was twenty years old, young as it is, and she was not looking forward to any romantic relationships. (?)

"And you'll meet that man this day."

She suppressed the urged to laugh, but something in Chiromante's words was making her nemesis mind to believe it. A wave of restlessness started to leech on her when she met the fortune teller's eyes. In a short while, Chiromante stood before her as if she was an object to be scrutinized.

"What?" She asked uncomfortably. Suddenly, the woman dashed off the place, leaving her behind for the nth time. She stood up and followed the woman who ran behind the dangling appendages of the entryway. That was the final straw. She wanted to see what the woman was doing behind that entryway. Why does she always leave her and come back again? That was suspicious.

"Duct down!" A male voice shouted.

A blinding light met her. She heard a thunderous crash and in such haste, someone pulled her down the floor and covered her with his body from objects that proved harm. Before she knew it, someone confined her in his arms and jumped out before the surrounding shelves would crash them both.

The sudden incident went in such haste that all Deb could do was close her eyes and let whoever was there to protect her. She didn't care who just as long as she would be fine. Dying wasn't an option. She was still going to submit a lot of manuscripts of her manga and be some kind of famous mangaka and seiyuu in Japan. Scratch that, she still have to marry Logan Lerman or Devon Bostick or that Finnick Odair. (insert crispy laugh here)

"Jyuudaime!" Her thoughts broke.

That loud harsh voice of a young man brought Deb back to her senses, and she realized that she was being carried by a russet-haired man. She turned to see the unsightly display of the place's demolition and the presence of the silver-haired man in black-jet tuxedo. She could not recognize the tent where she just entered back then; all she was seeing at the moment were remnants and the flames scattered all around. The sight made her paralyzed. What could have happened to her if she wasn't saved?

Still being held in the young man's arms, Deb took her time to observe him. He had a russet spiky hair, and slick brown eyes. He gives off a cordial aura but at the same time, his eyes would send a doubt of his personality. His features seemed quite feminine but left her an impression of being cute. Nah, him clothed in a black suite made him to appeal more as a man. Her guess was that the man was at the same age as her.

Finally, the man met her eyes. "You alright?"

Though his voice was friendly, she couldn't reply. Fear was still lingering on her system. "Before I answer that, would you kindly bring me down?" She requested politely.

"No prob." He bent a bit, safely making her foot on the ground but she fell to her knees.

"I think I'll have to carry you." The man bent down to carry her again.

"It's alright. I can just call my subord-, I mean friends, to fetch me here."

He smiled. "I'm sorry but that won't do. We were instructed to take you under custody."

Deb blinked. Her eyes roamed from the brunet and to the silver-haired one. "Huh?"