That question, too, evaporated in mere seconds. What was going on here? It felt like someone was manipulating my thoughts. Was I losing it? Fantasy, sci-fi, western—this was hardly a normal world. Why were we here? Where was here? When was here? Who was doing wha—?
“We’ll need a dealer. I know—bartender! You handle it.”
The stone-faced bartender obeyed his boss’s command. He moved to the table, picked up the deck, and executed a flawless Hindu shuffle for at least ten seconds. At this point, he mixed in a riffle, laid the cards out in several piles reassembled at random, then cut the deck. Only then did he deal five cards to the boss, then five to Haruhi.
Smooth moves. Too smooth. You could go to the ends of the earth and still not find anyone alive who’d believe this bartender was a neutral party and not one of the boss’s underlings. His own man shuffling the deck, not even letting us cut it. It’d be more shocking if they weren’t cheating.
Haruhi ought to know that.
No surprise, her hand was a pair of threes, clubs and diamonds. Its only redeeming quality was that it was better than no hand at all.
“Hmph,” Haruhi snorted, fanning out her hand.
Meanwhile, the boss held up his hand for the room to see.
“Feast your eyes on this, boys! I guess today’s my lucky day. My guardian angel always steps up when I need it! Am I right, boys?!”
HA-HA-HA-HA! This time, the laughter lasted longer than ten seconds—because he didn’t signal them to stop. He just left that forced guffaw go on as background music, fixing us with a smug grin.
“I’ll keep this hand. You can trade as many cards as you like—but only the once. Make your choice.”
Haruhi glanced at her cards, then the backs of the boss’s, and tossed her hand face down on the table.
“I’m good with what I got. The bet’s on.”
The laughter died.
Every face registered shock.
Haruhi’s face was radiating that much confidence. On top of which, she offered some advice.
“I think you oughtta trade a few cards at least. I won’t accept take backs later.”
“Don’t be daft.” Those snake eyes narrowed. “My luck is real, and you can’t compete. You play it that way, we gonna have words.”
He put his hand face down on the table.
“Fine, we’ll play with the cards we’re dealt.”
He must have a good hand—we all knew exactly what.
“Works for me,” Haruhi said, eyeing the backs of his cards.
I knew full well what that look meant. That’s the look she got when her cunning plan was going so well she couldn’t keep the grin off her face.
“Our cards are locked,” she said, inexplicably getting to her feet. “But I won’t be making the bet. She will.”
She moved over to stand behind Nagato like she was dancing the waltz, gracefully (and so quickly I didn’t have time to admire her poise) escorting the tiny literature club member to the seat Haruhi had been warming.
“…………”
Nagato merely blinked a few times, but that alone told me this twist had come as a surprise to her.
In the blink of an eye, Nagato had replaced Haruhi as our gambler.
But what did that mean? Even Yuki Nagato couldn’t exactly beat what I assumed was the best hand in the game with a pair of threes, especially since this was a straight show of hands with no bluffing or raising. Not unless she straight-up cheated.
Haruhi leaned in, whispering, “Yuki, remember—you’re a wizard. Yuki the Wizard, capable of making the impossible possible. Who cares if they’re cheating? Show them some real magic.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she pulled out a pointy black hat, and put it on Nagato’s head.
“……………”
I felt like the view before me warped. Like something unexpected had happened, and the world itself was scramb—
Nagato didn’t react, but I got some massive déjà vu.
I’d seen Nagato like this before somewhere. Back then, she’d had more than just a witch’s hat. She’d had the full cape…
I squinted again, and Nagato was dressed just like I remembered her. Pointy hat, black cape.
“…………”
Nagato’s eyes were on Haruhi’s cards, face down on the table.
It felt like she was considering how to win at poker, but Haruhi waved her arm.
“Here,” she said, handing Nagato a silver stick with a five-pointed star on the end.
“Star Ring Inferno.”
A whisper escaped my lips. Koizumi and Asahina both jumped, looking at me. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who remembered the wand’s name. But I wasn’t sure how I knew it. I imagine they didn’t either. All we had was a strange sort of certainty.
Despite my misgivings, the Prohibition poker battle continued. Whether that title remained accurate was beside the point. Why the wand, why the witch costume, where Haruhi had gotten either—we were past the point of poking at those plot holes. Best not to go against the flow of the story. I didn’t think I could even if I wanted to.
“…………”
Nagato was staring fixedly at the wand in her hand.
Like she was trying to remember where and when she’d seen the thing.
A tiny, unmoving, black-robed figure. Haruhi had her hands on Nagato’s shoulders, her lips almost touching one ear, whispering away.
Instructions of some kind? Nagato raised the wand in her hand. Every gangster’s eyes locked on it. She slowly waved the tip.
“…………”
The star at the tip of the wand tapped each of the five face-down cards in turn.
And that was all.
After a solid thirty seconds of silence, the boss said, “What was the point of all that?”
Exactly my question. Haruhi had tossed her hand on the table, then handed a wand to Nagato—all she’d actually done was tap the cards with it.