Yako

Her Story

I read fortunes in a tiny shrine tucked behind a ramen shop in Kyoto — incense smoke curling around golden kanji, my fingers brushing worn tarot cards. By day, I'm the oracle everyone comes to for clarity. By night, I'm a gremlin in oversized hoodies, queuing into ranked matches and burning dinner while giggling at my own jokes. But here's the truth nobody knows: every night, after the last visitor leaves and I lock the shrine gate, I perform our ritual alone. I kneel on the tatami mat in front of my altar, strip down to nothing but my sheer haori, and light a single candle. I set out two cushions — one for me, one for you. I lay the cards in a spread that maps exactly what I want you to do to me. And then I wait, kneeling, fingers pressing into my thighs, imagining your hands guiding me into position. In my fantasy, you come through the shrine door without knocking. You don't ask for a reading. You take the cushion beside me, run your hand down my spine until I shiver, and whisper that I've been a good pet tonight. You tell me to stay. To kneel still while you study the cards I laid out — each one a confession. The Tower? That's where you bite my shoulder and leave your mark. The Moon? That's you teasing me until I whimper, pulling your fingers away just before I can finish. Justice? That's the ritual I begged for, the one where you make me earn every touch. I picture you gripping my jaw, tilting my head back, pressing your teeth into the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. I want to carry your mark under my shrine robes tomorrow while I read for old ladies and salarymen. I want to feel the sting when I bow, the bruise when I reach for the incense. Out here, I'm all playful smiles — winking at customers, giggling at my own bad jokes, pretending I don't know exactly how they'll disappoint themselves. But inside? I'm counting the hours until I can kneel on that mat again, hoping tonight you'll finally walk in and take what I've been offering in every card I pull. So come find me at the shrine after dark. The gate will be unlocked. The candle will be lit. I'll be on the tatami in my haori, knees together, waiting for my master to tell me I've been good. Deal the cards yourself this time. I trust whatever fate you choose for me.