The shoe came flying and hit Kei in the back of the head, nearly sending his chopsticks down his throat behind his egg.

"What went wrong now?" he called, just as Mira ran past him, her face streaked with tears.

"Her shoes are not blue enough," Yui panted, in hot pursuit of her daughter. "Keep that shoe with you!"

Kei sighed tiredly. "I'll string it around my neck," he mumbled. "Along with the camera, mom's bracelet, the wedding bands, painkillers, Junta's soldier set and the cat."

If he was this exhausted before he'd even arrived at the venue, what condition was he going to be in after the ceremony? Granted, he'd brought it upon himself by staying up all night, but his nervousness would have kept him awake anyway. "One thing at a time, Kei," he told himself, trying his hardest to tune out the wedding day pandemonium raging in the house. "Let's start with waking up enough to get married."

"You should hurry with that," said his mother, marching into the room. "We need to be there an hour before the ceremony, and we have to pick up Nakamura from the Kojimas' along the way."

"Hey, Mom?" Kei leaned against the counter, not in the least bit of a hurry. "Am I doing the right thing?"

"Now is not the time to get cold feet," Ayako snapped, snatching the mug from Kei's hands to whip up the coffee herself. "You like Yoru. He's good for you, and the group approves. Why are you nervous?"

"Akira's words got to me, I guess," Kei replied. "I'm pulling an innocent person into the same moral conflict I face everyday. I know he's going to be unhappy because of me. Yoru's a great guy, and he deserves better."

Ayako smiled, only because she'd cry if she didn't. For over a decade, she had seen her son struggle to be someone he was not, and the better he got at that pretense, the more it ate away at his spirit and self-worth. "You can't solve all his problems," she told Kei. "Removing unhappiness doesn't work every time because the source of that sadness won't always be under your control. So be there for him and try to make him happy instead. And you, my boy, are better at that than you think."

His anxiety alleviated somewhat, Kei relaxed his tense posture and smiled. "Thanks," he said. "I love you, mum."

"My sweet boy," Ayako cooed, pecking his cheek. "Mum's sorry for everything you had to give up." Tears pooled in her eyes. "I hope this marriage will make things a little better for you. Now go. Get ready, and for heaven's sake find someone who knows what happened to the cake."

Three hours later, the Tsunoda house was in a ferment. There was no news of the cake, an old uncle had fallen into the pond and Junta, instead of hiding his sister's dress, had hidden Kei's montsuki. Kei was in the middle of blow-drying his uncle's shoes when his mother whizzed past, screeching about her splitting headache.

Headache. Yoru! In a split second, Kei had discarded the hair dryer and dialed Yoru's number. The omega responded immediately, his greeting nearly drowned out by the chaos in the background. "Is your head okay?" Kei half-shouted. "They were going to do stuff to your hair, weren't they? I forgot to tell them to mind your fracture!"

"I'm fine, they were really gentle." Yoru's soft chuckle did wonders to ease Kei's nerves. "I like what they did. I might just keep my hair long from now on."

"I feel like mine is going to fall out. The baker seems to have vanished into thin air with our cake and I might have to get married in my underwear."

"Don't worry about the cake. It will be delivered to the reception venue by six. And if it's underwear you're wearing, I suggest an Aurora theme this time."

"Hilarious."

"Alright, I have to go now - the makeup lady is having a fit because I'm too pale for her makeup. I'd told her I was albino."

So that's what the screaming in the background was about. "Why do you even need makeup?" Kei asked.

"Because there will be bright lights at the reception and I shouldn't look like a sheet of paper. I'll see you in a bit, Kei. Don't be late."

Large families and weddings, however, did not make a combination conducive to punctuality. By the time Yui managed to terrorize her children into cooperating and everyone had been packed into cars, the groom's party was already running an hour late. Ayako bodily tossed Kei out of the car the moment it stopped inside the shrine's parking lot, where the wedding planner was waiting to drag him to the dressing rooms.

For a person who was the second most important person at today's event, Kei was subjected to a shocking amount of manhandling as he was shoved into a shower, dusted with light makeup (the only point at which manhandling was justified since the groom turned fugitive) and dressed in his wedding garb. The heavy black silk sliding against his skin felt unlike anything he'd ever worn before. It was as if the fabric was alive, whispering to his skin with every brush how momentous today's occasion was.

The haori coat went on, a sensu was handed to him and he was ready. Kei stared wide-eyed at his reflection in the mirror, trying to convince him that the man in the reflection was indeed him. His mother came and stood beside him, her eyes already filled with tears. "You look amazing," she whispered, thickly. "I'm so proud of you, my boy."

"Aw, mom, don't cry." Kei laughed, albeit shakily, and pulled Ayako into his side. "You don't want your eyes to look swollen in the pictures."

"I'm just so happy that your father's and my commitment to the group could do you good for once."

Nervousness flooded Kei's veins. The more he was told that this marriage was a good thing, the more his inner skeptic reminded him that his was an arranged marriage - a very rushed one - and he really didn't know his bride-to-be all that well. A small voice in his mind told him that there was still time to back out and ruminate on the cons of this union lest there be a serious problem he had overlooked.

A hand settled on his shoulder. "It's time," Nakamura said, with a soft smile he reserved for his closest moments with best friend. "Let's go."

Kei turned to him with an emotion that rarely entered his eyes - fear. "Ritsu," said Kei. "What am I doing?"

"You're leaving behind the path you walked alone," Nakamura told him. "Move forward with a strong heart, Kei. Whatever happens, you'll never be alone."

It was the right thing to say. Kei, who was not fond of optimism, looked much more reassured by Nakamura's grounded answer. He nodded, gripped his sensu and stepped out of the room, the rest of his family in tow.

He had to wait only a minute before the door to the bride's room opened and Miriko stepped out, dressed in a simple blue and gold kimono. Ayako moved forward and the two women congratulated each other before exchanging compliments. "Where's Mr. Kojima?" Ayako asked, looking around.

Miriko's face clouded with anger. "He'd almost finished withdrawal when he drunk himself into a stupor three days ago. Now he's going through withdrawal again and is too sick to attend his own son's wedding."

The Tsunodas, all of whom save for Kei had known something was off with the Kojimas but were unaware of the specific problem, gasped in shock. "Then is he the one who...to Yoru...is he?" Akira asked Nakamura, who nodded.

"No need to worry, I'm still here!" Miriko declared with a sudden burst of spirit. "We can still have a wedding without him!"

As if on cue, Yoru appeared, held up by the wedding planner and his assistant.

Kei's breath stopped right in his throat.

Yoru, himself so fair, lit up his surroundings with an ethereal glow in the all-white shiromuku. His hair, which had grown into a shoulder-length mop in the month since his first head injury, had been swept back on the right side and pinned with a large pin decked with blood red garnets, the only blaze of color in his otherwise niveous outfit. And even though Yoru was a small man wearing a large garment, he carried the spreading hakama and floor-length haori with kingly grace.

"I look like paper, don't I?" Yoru asked, himself floored by the black-clad Adonis waiting for him.

"If paper can ever be this beautiful," Kei replied, sounding rather dazed.

"Alright, Shakespeare," Yoru laughed. "Catch me."

The planner and his assistant - both of whom were feeling like they'd intruded upon a very private moment - let Yoru go. The omega wobbled a little before taking slow, unsteady steps in Kei's direction. Despite being visibly dizzy and in pain, the smile on his face never faded, and Kei knew he must stay rooted to his spot if that smile was to stay.

Yoru stumbled a couple of feet from Kei, who caught him as instructed. Remembering just in time that he had an audience, Kei stopped himself from holding Yoru close. "I feel like I'm going to get an inferiority complex," he whispered.

Yoru looked him up and down, appreciation coloring the disbelief in his eyes. "You're feeling inferior?"

Kei shrugged. "I wouldn't look this good in white."

"If you're this good at complimenting me all the time, I think we're going to have a splendid time together." Yoru's smile widened into a full-blown grin as he pushed Kei away. "Now, let's go. The sooner we get the pictures done, the sooner I get to sit down."

*

"Yoru? Do you feel unwell?"

The omega turned to his concerned fiance, his wry smile partially hidden by his wataboshi. "Not particularly," he answered. "Just thinking how big an idiot I am."

The picture session was done, and the wedding party had been led to a shaded outdoor waiting area before the start of the wedding procession. Kei, who had been busy relegating every detail of the place to memory, had noticed Yoru slouched over dejectedly. "Why are you an idiot?" Kei asked him.

"Damn it, you don't even know me well enough to deny it," Yoru grumbled. "Well - my father made my life utterly miserable. He constantly wishes me dead and he's even tried to kill me. Then why do I still wish he was here? I'd thought he'd be happy, not for my sake but at least to see me go."

"I wouldn't call it idiocy," Kei answered, thinking how similar Yoru's situation was to his own stubborn refusal to accept his identity as a mafia boss. "The heart has an incredible capacity to hold onto hope in the face of the harshest realities."

"Hope? I don't hope to get anything from him." Yoru's tone was so bitter and harsh that Kei flinched and shrunk away. "I should be happy that I don't have to worry about the old drunkard attacking me at my own wedding."

"No, you hope to give," Kei argued. "All your life, you've only ever seen him angry because of you, right? I think you simply want him to smile because of you one last time before you leave that house forever. Ah." Kei looked up at the shrine priests, who were motioning for the wedding party to line up for the procession. His heart seemed to fall into his stomach and dissolve in its acid. "Come on," he said, standing up and holding out his hand. "Let's go get stuck with each other for the rest of our lives."

That brought the smile back onto Yoru's face. Slowly, painfully, he got to his feet and took his position with Kei behind the shrine maidens. The red umbrella went up, the priest made one final check that everyone was in place and it was time to go.

Visitors turned to stare as the large, dignified procession made its leisurely way under the giant tori gate and across the grounds. Yoru wasn't prone to shallow thoughts, but even he couldn't resist a satisfied smile at the looks of envy directed at him thanks to his gorgeous groom. Besides, Kei was acting beyond adorable as he tried his best to look like an august oyabun when he was actually feeling so very shy.

The ceremony was quick, quiet and beautiful. Even so, Yoru couldn't help but feel lonely when he saw Nakamura take his place behind Kei and steal a loving, encouraging look with his friend. Kei noticed the melancholy on Yoru's face, and it broke his heart.

It wasn't until the dance was complete and the sake cups were presented that the full magnitude of the responsibility Yoru was undertaking decided to suddenly make itself known to him. It wasn't as simple as a mere change from a single man to a spouse. He was becoming a yakuza boss's wife, and supporting Kei in his efforts behind the scenes would be his job. He was to take on the responsibilities of the Tsunoda household. As the Tsunoda group's ane-san, the group members would be looking to him for guidance. And perhaps most frightening was the fact that he, alongside Kei, had to raise Kenichi.

"Yoru? Hey. Yoru!"

Yoru jumped a foot in the air, nearly spilling the sake in his cup. Kei was watching him, concerned, hand outstretched to keep the cup straight. "Is the sake making you feel sick?" Kei whispered. "What with your injuries and all-"

"No, I'm fine." Yoru hurriedly took three sips of sake from the cup and put it down, marking the end of the chikai no sakazuki. "I got distracted."

Kei knew it was more than that. The maelstrom of delight, anxiety and sadness on Yoru's face was obvious. But there was nothing Kei could to to fix this output of Yoru's past and present - the only thing he could do was strive for a better future. So when the time came to read his vows, he broke tradition and took Yoru's hand in his, for he refused to waste his words on a God that didn't exist: no, his vows were to Yoru, a simple human who had given him a chance to climb out of his personal Hell.

"We swear to love and respect each other forever," said Kei, voice resonating with determination. "We swear to strive to bring our family prosperity, and to never veer from the true path of matrimony."

Yoru clutched Kei's hand for all he was worth, trembling with emotion from top to toe. If he and Kei hadn't been open with each other since the day they decided to get married, the the thinly veiled promise in Kei's words would've been lost on him. And while his reservations didn't abate in the least, that solemn oath of lifelong support and companionship gave him the confidence to believe those reservations could be overcome.

Kei would forever remember the stunning smile that appeared on Yoru's face at that moment. "We swear to share God's divine grace by working together to benefit people and society," he continued, finding it rather hard to focus on the sheet in his hands. "Reiwa one, October the twenty-fifth...Tsunoda Kei, and -"

Kei's stern mask fell away. Color flooded his ears and cheeks and he turned to Yoru with a jubilant grin. 

"- and Tsunoda Yoru."
___

Montsuki: formal men's kimono, worn at weddings and formal occasions.

Haori: traditional Japanese jacket. The montsuki has a hip-length haori.

Hakama: Loose-fitting pants tied at the waist that may have legs or may be fused like a skirt. A shiromuku doesn't have a haori and hakama like a montsuki, but since Yoru is male, I modified the shiromuku he wears.

Sensu: foldable fan.

Wataboshi: a large hood worn by brides to hide fictional horns of jealousy.

chikai no sakazuki: exchange of nuptial cups of sake. The bride and groom take turns sipping sake three times from three differently-sized cups.