A/N: One of the more meh Social Links. I wanted to do something longer for Keisuke but to each their own. He's an okay character, but he's definitely one of the more forgettable characters.

Fortune - X

Ever-present alongside time is fortune, cruel and unflinching.

Keisuke Hiraga always considered himself fortunate. How could someone like him win art shows when stacked against more talented artists? He was fortunate enough to be born into a well-off family with great if not overbearing parents. Truly, Fortune was shining down on him. However, even though the world continued to rotate, he was stuck in an endless cycle. Whenever he thought he made a breakthrough, something else intervened.

As Keisuke Hiraga admired his recent art piece, he couldn't help but ponder his mentality during the process. The painting was beautiful, but his mind was clearly at a crossroads. He stood at two roads, one that led down the path of creativity with beautiful landscapes and gorgeous greenery, and the other that led to a city with towering buildings.

Which path should he choose? Path of the artist? Or a doctor?

He loved painting - the epitome of expressing himself, but he also found immense joy in caring for others. Whenever someone needed attention, a switch flipped in his psyche. Could he give up art for medicine? Was it possible to pursue both? Or would choosing one mean sacrificing the other? He narrowed it down, but the path remained treacherous.

"Young Master," his thoughts were interrupted by one of the maids. "I apologize for intruding. Your father is ready to see you in his studies."

Keisuke sighed. This was the moment of truth.

"Thank you, Tsubaki-san. I'll be right there," he replied, steadying his resolve.

The walk to his father's study felt like an eternity. His thoughts spun with every step. He knew the moment had come to discuss his future. Before, he wasn't sure which answer his heart would settle on. But now, the path ahead was clear as day.

Tsubaki the maid knocked, announcing their arrival before opening the door. Keisuke's father sat behind a mahogany desk, looking the very image of authority with his stern expression and professional demeanor. Keisuke straightened his posture, meeting his father's gaze as he entered.

"Good evening, Keisuke," the older Hiraga said with a curt nod. They mirrored each other in appearance—same bespectacled face, though his father's eyes carried the weight of years spent as a doctor. The hardened face of a man who had seen his fair share of hardships.

"Good evening, Father," Keisuke replied, inclining his head respectfully. "Thank you for meeting with me."

Mister Hiraga leaned back, a flicker of curiosity passing over his face. "I heard about your recent art competition. How did it go?"

With pride in his step, Keisuke reached into his back pocket, pulling out a bright blue ribbon. "I took first place."

His father's stern expression softened, and he gave a single, approving clap. "Congratulations, Keisuke. Your talent as an artist never fails to amaze me."

"T-Thank you. I worked hard for it," he shifted nervously in his seat. "But, you remember our agreement, right?"

A glint of understanding appeared in his father's eyes, and he nodded. "I remember. I told you that if you succeeded, I wouldn't press you to pursue medicine." He folded his hands, watching Keisuke closely. "I am a man of my word. You're free to choose your path."

A wave of relief washed over Keisuke.

"Keisuke," his father's voice softened, "tell me honestly—what do you want to become?"

Keisuke looked away, brow furrowing as he grappled with his response. His mind drifted back to that crossroads—the thrill of painting, his creative dreams' beauty, and his undeniable pull toward medicine.

"I… I want to be a doctor," he finally admitted, his voice quiet yet firm.

His father's eyes widened slightly, surprised, then softened with pride. "Oh? I'm surprised. I assumed you'd reject it."

"I love helping people," Keisuke continued, gaining confidence as he spoke. "It doesn't matter how small the problem is—I feel a sense of purpose when I can make a difference. Art… art is my soul, but medicine…" he hesitated, searching for the right words. "Medicine feels like my duty."

Mister Hiraga nodded slowly, understanding deepening in his gaze. "I've always respected your dedication, Keisuke. I may have seemed insistent on this path, but it was never to control you. I only wanted you to have a stable future, to know the security of a reliable profession. The choice is, and always has been, yours."

The patriarch removed his glasses, showing a rare, unguarded expression. "As your father, the last thing I want is for you to suffer," he said, his voice softer but firm. "A good, steady job doesn't come easily, but with your passion for helping others, I know being a doctor is the best course of action. You have a bright future ahead of you. Whatever path you choose, know that I am proud of you. Follow the road that brings you fulfillment, whether that's in the operating room or with a paintbrush in hand."

Then, surprising Keisuke, his father opened a drawer, drawing out a card and placing it on the table. The card shimmered with an intricate design: deep blue with swirling patterns along the border, silver accents glinting like starlight. In the center lay a mask—one side white, the other black—overlaying a stylized sun that seemed to glow faintly.

"Take a look at this."

Keisuke raised an eyebrow. "Is that a tarot card?"

"Indeed." His father's tone was unexpectedly nostalgic. "My father gave me this card when I was your age." He nudged it toward Keisuke. "Go ahead, flip it over."

"Are you… doing a reading?" Keisuke asked, his skepticism barely hidden. "Since when do you believe in fortune telling?

His father chuckled. "Medicine has come a long way, Keisuke. Before all our science, healing was an art—one many considered magical."

Keisuke hesitated, then turned the card over. The face of the card revealed a large, circular wheel, like an ancient compass adorned with arcane symbols. At the top, a sphinx roared above the needle, while below, a serpent coiled ominously, as if guarding a hidden truth. In his hands, the card lay upright, a sign of favorable fortune.

His father's gaze was steady and thoughtful. "It's the Wheel of Fortune, Keisuke. A reminder that life is full of cycles, and sometimes… we just have to trust where the wheel takes us. And if I remember correctly, the direction you flipped the card over determines your luck. In this case, you have favorable luck."

Keisuke couldn't shake a feeling of wonder as he looked at the card, his thoughts drifting to a friend who had become more important to him than he'd realized. The image of Makoto—his calm demeanor, his quiet strength—came to mind, unbidden. Something about the card, with its shifting cycles of fate, felt connected to him.

"Father," he began, carefully weighing his words. "Do you remember the friend I told you about?"

His father nodded, thinking. "Hmm… Yuki-san, isn't it? The one who recently joined your club. What about him?"

Keisuke hesitated, but his curiosity drove him forward. "If our family represents Fortune, what do you think his Arcana would be?"

The elder Hiraga's eyes narrowed in thought, and he leaned forward, intrigued by the question. "That depends on his nature. I'm not exactly an expert on the Arcana. They speak of a person's strengths, their role in others' lives… Tell me, Keisuke, what stands out about Yuki-san to you?"

Keisuke considered it, picturing Makoto's stoic expression and unwavering resolve. "He's… calm, almost unnaturally so. It's like no matter what happens, he just keeps moving forward. He's not loud or showy, but he's dependable. Strong, in a quiet way."

His father gave a knowing nod. "Strength, perhaps. Or perhaps the Fool, if he embraces the journey ahead with a kind of open courage." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "But the Fool is also the one who steps willingly into the unknown, carrying a quiet understanding that fate may be on their side."

Keisuke nodded slowly, a new sense of appreciation stirring within him.

"I wonder. Do you have more tarot cards?" he asked, fascinated by the mystical cards.

His father cocked an eyebrow and dug through his drawer. "Father did say these would come in handy one day."

A whole deck of cards lay before Keisuke. His mind was racing at the possibilities.

"Here, I'll lay out the major ones."

Including the Fortune, twenty-one cards lay on the mahogany desk. Keisuke stared at the faces with childlike wonder, having never thought about the mystical arts.

"Let's see, so starting with the Fool, that would be Yuki-san."

He assigned different people he knew with the meanings of the Arcana. His father, not having anything better to do, sat with him and researched the upright and reversed meanings of each major tarot. It was a good father-son bonding moment, laughing over who best fit which card.

They were so engrossed with the idea that they didn't notice the mom standing at the door, snapping pictures with her phone, smiling wide at the duo.

Next time, the Strength Arcana, but if you already read it, wait until the 31st for the Hanged Arcana.