Yoru sipped his coffee, stretched out his feet under the table and leaned back in his chair, relishing the late winter sunlight. His bruises protested the pressure and he started, shifting to place his elbow on the table and his chin on his palm. Taking another sip of the decaf cappuccino, he smiled.

"I've literally never seen you in such a good mood."

He frowned at the interruption of his mid-morning reverie and opened his eyes. Seated in the chair in front of him was his husband-to-be, dressed in a kimono and guarded from three feet away by two stiff, expressionless, humanoid statues. His whole getup simply screamed yakuza, and people gave their outdoor table a wide berth.

"This is the fourth time you've ever seen me," Yoru responded. "So your saying that isn't saying much."

"True. It's my men who were watching you the rest of the time."

Yoru's eyebrows shot up in surprise before arranging themselves into a straight, resigned line. "Of course," he said flatly. "How long have you had me watched? And why me? You're a good-looking badass. You could have the pick of the litter."

Kei's chest puffed up at the compliment. For some reason, the chests of the eavesdropping bodyguards inflated too. "You are the pick of the litter," Kei said, as if it should have been obvious. "I need an heir, so my options are limited to Beta women and omegas."

"Wouldn't an Alpha prefer an Alpha?"

"Ah, that popular stereotype." Kei smiled bitterly. "That may be true in the normal world, but Yakuza can't be so choosy. Of course, I could strong-arm an Alpha woman into marrying me, but I'm not into forced marriages and I want a consort who is loyal and trustworthy. You'd be surprised if you knew the number of Alpha oyabuns who have been betrayed by embittered Alpha wives."

"How many?"

"Not telling. I preferred omegas because of their higher fertility. But most of the eligible omegas are either prostitutes or mated. You're omega, single, and come with the added benefit of not being entirely unfamiliar with the yakuza."

Yoru's scowl had been deepening with every word, and by the time Kei had finished, he looked ready to throw his coffee in the Alpha's face and both bodyguards had slapped their hands to their foreheads. "What was that about my spunk?" Yoru growled.

Kei remained blissfully oblivious of the storm brewing before him. "You're brave," he said, shyly tracing the edge of his cup. "You'll need it as a yakuza wife."

One of the bodyguards suddenly dislodged himself from his pedestal (a nice cream tile), stepped forward and whispered something in Kei's ear. The latter's eyes widened and shot to Yoru's face, finally noting his unimpressed, disapproving glare. "A-and you're pretty," he stuttered, the tips of his ears lighting up like little LED string lights. "Very pretty."

Yoru smiled at the bodyguard, who jumped in shock and nearly fell right onto his employer. "Thank you," Yoru said to him, sincerely. "You're a very sweet man."

"U-Uh, thank you," the man said, unable to decide whether he should just accept the compliment at face value or apologize for the obvious dig at his boss.

"I really do think you're pretty," Kei grumbled. "I just forgot to say it."

"That's precisely the point."

Today's coffee date - if one could even call it a date with the inquisitive chaperones in the background - was Yoru's attempt to normalize the progression of his and Kei's relationship. Kei hadn't understood that motivation - "I'm marrying you anyway, so what's the point?" had been his exact words. Yoru had snarled that normal people in the normal world usually didn't marry absolute strangers without getting to know each other a little.

 As far as Yoru could tell, his purpose was being served. At least he knew now his husband-to-be was denser than the Earth's core. 

"Is your father giving you any trouble?" Kei asked, wishing to remain in more familiar territory.

Ah. That unexpectedly caring side of Kei's had made an appearance. "No," said Yoru, mildly touched. "He hasn't even talked to me since you threatened him."

"Doesn't that make you feel lonely?"

"Not really. He wasn't particularly nice even when I was young - he wanted girls, you see - but things got really bad after he found out I'm an omega. I have my mother, and that's enough for me."

"What will happen to your mother after you leave?"

The coffee Yoru had consumed so far threatened to make a reappearance. His greatest fear was that his father would seriously injure or even kill his mother without him to get in the way. It spoke volumes about the seriousness of the situation that even Kei, a stranger to his circumstances, had similar concerns. "She says father will be in a better mood with me out of the house," Yoru replied. "Though I call bullshit. He's not going to be happy about resuming work."

Yoru had begged his mother to get a divorce multiple times over the years, but Miriko had refused every time. According to her, the loss of the comfortable life she and Yoru together provided would make him even more unstable and dangerous. Someone had to stay behind so the other could be free, and Miriko would be damned if she let that someone be her son.

It made Yoru wish the wedding would never happen until his father died. It would turn the current vacation from the old man's atrocities into permanent relief. 

But time is a merciless master, and the wedding preparations progressed faster than Yoru would have liked. The wedding date was set  four days after his meeting with Kei, and a caterer hired within a week. Kei was whisked off by his mother to look for the perfect kimono, and when he returned another week later - tired, irritated, and understandably revolted by the very sight of a kimono shop - the wedding venue had been booked.

"I thought we were supposed to have a choice in all of this," Kei grumbled to his fiancé as their mothers compared invitation designs and Tsunoda senior snored away on the Kojimas' couch.

"We're men," Yoru yawned, resisting the urge to follow the example of his father-in-law-to-be. "We don't understand the subtle yet colossal capacity of the precise combination of shades of green to influence the sentiments of our guests."

Kei turned towards the two women. "Mom, Yoru's talking in tongues."

"Be quiet," Ayako snapped. "And wake up your father, we need his opinion."

"He's dead at the moment."

"Well, you two'll do." Ayako held up a binder and pointed out two designs with almost imperceptible differences in color. "Which one do you prefer?"

Kei and Yoru exchanged a look. "That one," they chorused, each pointing at a different design.

*

"Yoru, get ready. We're going out."

Yoru almost dropped the book he was reading. "Out?" he asked his mother, who was oddly well-dressed. "Where?"

"We're going to that store Mrs. Tsunoda recommended get you a kimono for the wedding."

This time, Yoru did drop his book. He knew which shop his mother was talking about, and it wasn't intended for people who were not fond of deep dents in their net worth. "Mother," Yoru said quietly. "We can't afford that place."

"We can."

"Mom-"

"I sold my shiromuku and tsunokakushi." Miriko pulled out a thick wad of notes from her purse and waved it at Yoru. "My kanzashi too."

"You sold all your wedding finery?! Why!"

"Because that is the best purpose they could serve." Miriko sat down next to Yoru, motioning him to calm down. "They're nothing more to me than harbingers of doom. The only think I can thank them for is my beautiful boy, and if they help contribute to his happiness, they will finally have served some good."

Yoru was speechless. Miriko put her arms around him and pulled him into a warm hug. "In an ideal world, I wouldn't be so enthusiastic when your groom is from the mafia," she said. "But as things are, you're safer with a criminal than with your own blood."

Yoru was rather shocked at his mother's hostile opinion of Kei after being so welcoming with him. "Mom, marrying him won't make you hate me, right?" he asked, suddenly afraid.

"Of course not. It's not like we could have rejected their offer; it's not as if you chose him."

Yoru felt a little guilty upon hearing that. His mother was making this marriage out to be a forced one even though Yoru had given his consent. Granted his desperation to get away from his father and Ito made his agreement rather dubious, and there was no telling if Kei had a darker side he hadn't yet seen, but Yoru still couldn't get himself to agree with Miriko's attitude.

The visit took less time than expected. The staff had been expecting them, and within the hour, a lovely white silk, heavily brocaded with threads of silver, was chosen. As Yoru ran his hands over the material, for the first time a bolt of excitement shot through him. I'm getting married, he thought to himself. I'm getting married. I'm getting married! If I play my cards right, I can actually be happy!

Miriko's reassurances notwithstanding, Yoru's soon found his fears weren't entirely unfounded. It was at his and Kei's yuino that he saw the first signs of trouble. Kei and he had become pretty friendly by then, and, swept away by thrill and excitement, he chose to sit next to Kei instead of his mother. He would never be able to forget the scowl she directed at her future-in-law.

"Everything okay?" asked ''Kei, who'd noticed Yoru's unease.

Yoru smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Mostly," he said.

"Is it a headache again?"

"No. I'm nervous. Aren't you nervous? It feels so weird to be the center of attention."

Kei raised an eyebrow. "What's there to be nervous about?"

"You're about to commit to one person for the rest of your life. Doesn't that scare you a little?"

"But there's always divorce. And couples cheat, too."

Yoru had to clench his fists so he wouldn't slap Kei for saying something like that at his own engagement dinner. He settled for a glare instead, which only confused the moron he was about to marry.

"I think it's time," Ayako announced, and wedged her elbow between Kei's ribs. "Kei?"

"Right," he gasped, trying to see through his pain as he took a velvet box from his mother's outstretched hand, flushed scarlet and turned to Yoru. "Um. Here," he said, awkwardly.

Yoru gave a tolerant chuckle as the latter's parents groaned and slapped their foreheads. "Open it," he instructed. "And give it back to your mom."

Kei switched to maroon as he complied. Yoru held out his hand, but Kei only stared at it. "Having second thoughts?" Yoru teased.

The gears in Kei's brain finally meshed and he retrieved the small ring, a gorgeous white-gold band mounted with another band of rose gold. Taking the proffered hand in his, he slipped the ring onto Yoru's finger.

To Yoru, the cold metal band sitting elegantly on his finger was his biggest ray of hope, a door to a brighter future. His heart jumped. In that moment, it didn't matter that he was marrying into the yakuza. It didn't matter how he'd met Kei. It didn't matter that his agreement to the wedding had been a desperate, imprudent, impulsive whim. To him, that ring was the realization of a pipe dream - a dream to have his own new family, better than the one he'd grown up in.

Kei's brain short-circuited at the blissful smile that spread across Yoru's face. One could hardly have guessed this was an arranged marriage. The omega traced the three little diamonds in his ring with his right hand before looking up and turning that smile, brimming with joy, on him. His chest tightened. The warm satisfaction of being able to make someone happy flooded his body.

Unconsciously, he wrapped his hand around Yoru's and squeezed it.

"Well, congratulations to all of us!" In a rare burst of energy, Kei's father raised his cup of sake into the air. "Kampai!"

Ayako followed suit, but Miriko's cheer was only half-hearted and her husband didn't cheer at all. The atmosphere turned sour and uncomfortable in a split second, and Yoru slumped in disappointment. Couldn't his parents at least pretend to be happy for him? Were they going to turn this celebration into a nightmare too, just like they had every birthday and graduation?

The yuino dinner wrapped up too fast after that, but not fast enough to prevent Yoru's father from soaking himself in drink. The Tsunodas dropped Yoru and his family home, and as he watched the cars pull away, he almost screamed at them to take him with them. With a sinking heart, he traipsed into the house behind his family.

His father turned to him the moment the front door shut. "Give me the ring," he said.

Yoru blinked, unable to believe his ears. "What?" he ground out. "Why?"

"None of your business."

"No!" Yoru gripped his left hand protectively in his right and stepped away. Miriko retreated towards the kitchen, ready to flee or grab a weapon as needed.

"Either I take it, or the collectors come tomorrow and do it, probably accompanied by your finger."

"In case you forgot, this ring was given to me by a yakuza boss. How are you going to tell him you pawned his ring?"

"I won't. I know a man who can make a cheap replica in three days."

Yoru felt a surge of violent hatred rise in him. Every blow he'd ever suffered played like a reel through his head, instantly setting it on fire with rage and pain. "Go to hell," he spat viciously.

In his drunken state, the old man seemed to have forgotten Kei's threat. "What...did you say?" he asked, sounding partially unhinged.

Yoru clenched his fists and blinked tears out of his eyes. "Go to Hell, you drunken piece of shi -"

His father crossed the gap between them in a single leap.

__________

Shiromuku: all-white, heavily embroidered kimono worn by brides in Shinto weddings for the wedding ceremony (brides change out of them for the reception).

Tsunokakushi: wedding headdress, often made of white silk to match the shiromuku

Kanzashi: hair ornaments

Yuino: Betrothal ceremony, traditionally involving exchange of gifts wrapped in rice paper. Modern yuino ceremonies consist of the two families dining together.