Chapter Text
The streets were buzzing with afternoon cheer, the same today as it was every other. Swarms of tourists, students, and shoppers jamming the pathways, the only saving grace of the sweltering and otherwise awful day being the scent of sugared doughnuts wafting through the air and enticing students who definitely couldn't afford them, Senkū included.
He was on a break, after all, a small pick me up couldn't hurt his bank account that much, surely.
He pulled out his phone to check, then promptly stuffed the damn thing right back in his lab coat upon seeing his overdraft. Evidentially, a small pick me up could hurt his bank statement that much. He scowled at a passerby as they rushed by him, nearly taking his extortionate doughnuts with them, then deciding he might as well pack them away for safekeeping and eat them for dinner since he couldn't afford his usual after this whole affair.
A chorus of cheers and delighted screeches send him flinching back in annoyance and out of his internal seething. Wishing he had just stayed on campus for lunch, he ventures forth to investigate the noise. The closer he gets to the source, the louder the relentless giggling and clapping get, he's almost decided to run in the opposite direction when he finally sees the object of all this attention.
He looks the street magician up and down, deciding there's not really anything all that special about him. He's nice to look at, sure, but his magic is amateur at best. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. His curiosity grew, seeing the unproportionate response to such average magic.
He watches as the boy, who surely isn't much older than he is, ducks in and out of the crowd with ease, twirling girls hair around his fingers, extracting coins from behind their ears, making roses appear around them, all with a bright smile and promising eyes.
As it turns out, a genius isn't necessary for figuring out why the crowd is so extensive. The boy pulls rabbits out of hats, makes them disappear in a box, guesses cards from multiple swooning ladies. All the typical tricks of a street magician, except, typical street magicians don't attract lines of people, especially not ones that hang on their every word.
He can't help but appreciate what he's seeing. Hoards of people, manipulated so easily, willing to look past such simple tricks in favour of admiring how charming this boy is. The magician looks right at him then, smiling and holding out an array of cards. Senkū only scoffs at him, shaking his head and ignoring the booing. The boy pouts, then moves onto another unsuspecting victim, smile back in place as his audience cheers him on twice over.
It's only then that Senkū realises he's been used. A good plan really, choosing someone who so obviously didn't want to partake to gain pity points from his crowds, for more people to seek his tricks in an effort to show him they're different.
It's smart. And irritating.
He watches the entire charade. Picks up on every little manipulation, wishing he could see what the magician does. How he chooses his victims, which ones he picks and when. It's fascinating to watch and utterly infuriating to have it used on you.
Three times, no less.
It's only when the crowds are clearing out that he realises he's been fooled by the boy as well.
He's about to call it a day, vow to never be lured in so easily again and head home, but then the boy catches his eye, smiling in an overly innocent manner as the last of his admirers dissipate with all sorts of signed memorabilia. The corner of his mouth twitches when Senku shifts in annoyance, then he's walking closer, hat tipped forward for a tip. "Did you like the show?"
Senkū meets his eyes, hating that he doesn't know what the magician is seeing in them. "It was predictable." He shrugs, but tosses some change into his hat anyway, purely out of politeness.
"Oh?" The boy grins, a neat brow raised as he looks at his tip, his hair falling slightly forward when he trains those eyes on Senkū instead.
In favour of giving an obvious lie in place of an explanation, he decides to elaborate on his criticism. He gives his best smirk, circling the mentalist. "A box with a partition, lined sleeves, a disarming smile, all tricks," Senkū shrugs, meeting odd coloured eyes as he stops before them, "all predictable."
Instead of frowning, admitting defeat or at the very least, looking caught out, the irritating little mentalist cocks his head to the side, somehow still elegant, even when a wicked grin takes shape. "You don't like tricks?"
Senkū has to laugh, looking him over once more, trying to figure out if his first judgement was incorrect. In the end, he just shrugs. "On the contrary, I'm actually quite partial to them."
The mentalist narrows his eyes, still smiling. "You like figuring them out."
A huff escapes him at that, as though it were obvious. Which it was, he hadn't observed the whole show for this boy's carefully crafted charade. The boy smiles, looping a finger through his hair as though he's already won this back and forth.
"And you?" Senkū retorts before he can think better of it, "You like figuring people out?"
He's offered a sly shrug for that. He stands quietly as he watches the mentalist return to his park bench, counting his earnings, and a voice that sounds suspiciously like Yuzuriha is telling him he shouldn't bite, that this challenge is one he won't win.
Ignoring both his gut feeling and his new Yuzuriha sounding conscience, he perches himself on the back of the bench, observing a little longer.
Those grey-blue eyes meet his once more, a question in them. "You weren't even looking at me" He states it like such a thing hasn't ever happened before.
"Excuse me?"
"You were the only one looking in all the places I didn't want you to be."
Senkū considers this for a moment, wondering whether this irritated the mentalist or intrigued him. "If you only look where people want you to, you'll never find the truth."
The mentalist doesn't look irritated or intrigued, he looks just as falsely neutral as he has throughout this entire exchange. "The truth is important to you?"
"Facts are important to me." Senkū shrugs, as though they should be important to everyone, but understanding they aren't. The boy doesn't answer, just continues packing away. "What's important to you?"
Senkū watches as he tenses, as the facade slips for such a brief second he would have missed it had he not been watching so closely, it's firmly in place once more when the mentalist offers him an insincere smile. "Do you need to know the facts about people too?"
"Do you answer every question with another one?" He retorts, watching for any small slip in the mask.
"Does that get under your skin?"
Senkū goes to huff out an 'of course not' but finds he doesn't really mean that. He's still here, after all, he's had every opportunity to leave and finish up in the lab, but he hasn't. He's stayed, he's observed. He's tried to figure this irritating mentalist out, to no avail, and it is getting under his skin, but It's exhilarating as well, usually, people are easy to understand, easy to manipulate, this one, however, is certainly not.
A devious glint in the boy's eyes tells him his thoughts are obvious, and suddenly it's all a little too much. He's never been so easily read, at least not when he hasn't intended to be, and certainly not when he hasn't been able to do the same in return.
"Goodbye, mentalist." Senkū grunts, ignoring the sudden panic in the boy's eyes as he turns away.
The Yuzurihah conscience was right. This is one challenge that's certainly not worth winning, even if he can.
"You never actually answered my question, Senkū-chan!" The boy calls after him, and Senkū can feel the smirk behind him when he stops suddenly.
He chuckles softly to himself in resignation. The name tag on his lab coat suddenly remembered.
This boy.
"Yes," he sighs, then turns back to meet the mentalist's smirk head-on, "I liked it."