Chapter Two: Sacred Fires A single delicate cherry blossom fluttered in the air and landed on a head of raven black tresses. Takara reached up and plucked the petal from her hair, smiling as she cradled it in her pale hand. How she loved it when the cherry blossoms bloomed. This was always her favorite time of year. The young miko sighed with a mixture of both pleasure and regret, finally allowing the pink petal to fly on the gentle breeze. It was probably time to get back to work anyway. She’d been standing underneath the beautiful sakura tree in the courtyard for the past fifteen minutes with a rake in her left hand, completely ignoring her chores. “I guess he couldn’t come today,” Takara said to her only companions, a large black crow and her two smaller children, who were perched in a row on one of the branches of the tree. The mother cawed lightly, flapping her wings around in anger. Takara giggled, wagging her finger at the bird. “Now, Discord, you know as well as I do that it’s not his fault. Keitaro is a very busy man, especially now that he’s graduated from college and has become Negishi-sama’s full-time assistant. He’s pursuing his dream and we should be happy for him.” She pursed her lips into a tiny pout. “Although I do wish I could see him more often. Maybe I’ll go over to his and Minoru-san’s apartment tonight and cook them dinner. They would like that, wouldn’t they?” Discord nodded her head in agreement, almost as if the crow understood everything she was saying to her. Perhaps she did. Ever since the day the bird arrived at the shrine, they had shared a special bond. In fact, didn’t she come just a few days before Minoru brought Keitaro to visit the shrine? Maybe that’s why they were so close. Suddenly, two large hands covered the miko’s amethyst eyes and she gasped. “Are you talking to those birds again?” a male voice asked in amusement. Takara turned around, finding herself looking the gaze of the handsome Hino Keitaro. Her face broke into a huge smile, although she tried her best to look angry. She didn’t succeed. “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not,” she replied with a huff. “You’ll just have to ask them yourself.” “Okay, I will.” The politician-in-training looked up at his girlfriend’s three avian friends, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. “Discord, Phobos and Deimos, was Takara talking to you about how disappointed and angry she was that I hadn’t shown up when I said I would?” All three birds nodded their heads in unison, answering his question. Takara made a face at the crows for betraying her secret while Keitaro laughed at the sight they must make, talking to a trio of flying pests like they were actual people. He knew that a little over two months ago he would have never even thought of doing such a thing, but Takara’s influence changed all that. Sometimes Keitaro even found himself talking to Minoru’s pet goldfish, though if asked, he would never dare to admit it. Talking to animals wasn’t the only noticeable change in his behavior either. Since that day at the beach, Keitaro’s whole outlook on life had changed. There was a time not so long ago when he thought that politics was his entire life. Now, he knew that there was more to living than just elections, press conferences, and meetings. He laughed. He smiled. He even relaxed on his days off. Keitaro hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since his uncle died… A slender finger playfully poked his chest. “So, why are you late?” Takara asked. “I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes.” “I’m sorry, Takara,” he apologized. “Negishi-sama’s meeting ran late and I wasn’t able to take my lunch break. In fact, I’m afraid I have to leave in a couple of minutes. He only gave me thirty minutes to run a couple of errands.” Her face fell. “You have to leave so soon? But you just got here.” “I know,” Keitaro said, reaching up to caress her soft alabaster cheek. “But I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t we go see a movie tonight? Didn’t you say you were dying to see the one starring that idol…? What’s his name? Ono Masaharu?” “Ono Masanori,” she corrected, smiling at Keitaro’s wrinkled nose. He wasn’t a very big fan of pop idols. “And that sounds like a wonderful idea. There’s a show starting at seven o’clock at the nearby theater. Is that okay with you?” “Sure, I’ll pick you up around six-thirty.” Gray eyes shifted around the vicinity before he gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, Takara. Ja ne.” “Ja ne.” Leaning on the rake in her hand, Takara watched Keitaro disappear out the torii, a soft smile on her face. She couldn’t wait for tonight. It had been over a week since their last date. Keitaro was always so busy, so it was difficult for them to find time to be together, but she didn’t mind. Too much. Behind her, someone cleared his throat and said her name. The miko quickly turned around. “Oh, otou-san!” she exclaimed, a little embarrassed at being caught not doing her chores. “I…uh…I was just taking a break. I’ll get right back to work.” The priest of the Hikawa Shrine laughed as his daughter attacked the ground with her rake. “That’s not necessary, Takara,” he declared, holding up his hand. “In fact, maybe you should just leave the raking to me. You shouldn’t be doing manual labor after this morning’s attack. You need your rest.” Slightly annoyed, Takara stopped the raking and looked up at her father. She rested one of her hands on her hip. “I told you that it wasn’t that serious. I’m fully capable of completing my chores.” “I know you are, however, you would make your old father a lot less worried if you went back inside and took a nap. Today’s attack might not have been serious, but that doesn’t mean that the next one won’t.” “Yes, otou-san.” the miko said with a small smile, reluctantly handing her rake to Saburo and kissing him lightly on the cheek. Though she felt absolutely fine, sometimes it was best to humor her father. “I’ll go take a nap if it will make you feel better.” “Good. I‘ll see you at dinner.” The priest began raking as Takara walked back toward the shrine, humming a happy little tune. When she reached the porch, Saburo glanced up again, as if remembering why he came outside in the first place. “Oh, Takara, tonight we will be having guests, so please dress for dinner.” Hearing that piece of news, Takara turned around, hoping she had misheard her father’s words. “Tonight?” she asked. “But Keitaro and I already made plans to go to the movies.” “I suppose you will have to cancel then. The Mizuki family is one of the shrine’s most generous patrons and they specifically asked for you to be in attendance.” “Me?” Takara wondered why their guests would want to meet her. She was nothing but a lowly shrine maiden. “But why?” To her surprise, Saburo shifted his eyes back to the grass, acting as if he didn’t want to tell her something. “I don’t know,” he quickly replied. “Just cancel your date for tonight.” The miko sighed heavily before going inside. “Yes, otou-san.” ***** When Keitaro arrived back at Govenor Negishi’s office, he found the place buzzing with activity. It was an election year, so they were busier than usual, scheduling interviews, talking campaign strategy, and conducting polls of registered voters. Usually he thrived on such excitement, but for once, he couldn’t wait for the day to be over. Walking over to his desk, Keitaro frowned at the stack of papers in his tray, which had mysteriously doubled during his brief absence. He would have to work hard if he expected to leave at a reasonable hour and make it on time for his date with Takara, but that was no problem. A little hard work never killed anybody, least of all, him. He took a seat in his chair and started shifting through his work, pulling out the speech for an upcoming fundraiser to proofread. No sense in wasting valuable time. Yet, the red pen in his hand remained unused, his attention caught by the photograph of Takara sitting on the corner of his desk. Keitaro wondered what she was doing right now. He did feel bad that they weren’t able to talk more earlier. It wasn’t very fair to her, but they would have plenty of time tonight to be together. His thoughts were broken by the ringing of his telephone. Keitaro quickly grabbed the receiver, accidentally knocking his cold cup of coffee from this morning off the edge of his desk. A pool of black liquid formed on the expensive white carpet and spread out, causing the normally cool-headed assistant to swear loudly under his breath. Whose brilliant idea was it to do the office in white? “Bad day. huh?” a familiar female voice asked on the phone as Keitaro grabbed a roll of paper towels to clean up the mess. Gray eyes suddenly brightened and he sighed with relief. “Oh, hello, Takara,” he said, glad that it was her and not someone from the party. Cussing out the head of the Liberal Democratic Party would not be a good way to begin his political career. “Gomen nasai. I just spilled some coffee on the carpet. I didn‘t mean to use such language.” “That’s okay.” “It’s nice that you called. I was just thinking about you,“ he admitted, finally managing to soak up most of the mess. The rest would just have to be covered up with his trash can for now. “I’m looking forward to tonight and I know you are too. We‘re going to have a great time.” There was a short silence before Takara spoke again. Keitaro didn’t like the sound of that pause. It was the same pause he used whenever he had to break a date with her because he had too much work to do at the office. “Actually, that’s why I called,” she said disappointedly. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel. My father just informed me that we are having guests for dinner and I have to be there. Gomen, Keitaro.” “That’s okay, Takara. I understand. Maybe some other time.” “Yes, some other time. I have to now, okay? Goodbye.” “Goodbye.” Keitaro hung up the phone, disappointment written on his face. So, this must be how she felt every time he had to cancel. It wasn’t a good feeling, but he understood. At least now he would have plenty of time to get his work done… ***** Eyes of beautiful amethyst stared at her reflection in the mirror as Takara unenthusiastically brushed her long, black hair and pulled it back in a pretty hairclip at the nape of her neck. She was not looking forward to tonight’s dinner with the Mizukis. Her father wasn’t telling her something. Takara could sense it, and she had a feeling that whatever it was, she was not going to like. But what could it be? Why did such wealthy patrons want to meet her? It just didn’t make any sense. “Why do I feel like everything is about to change?” the miko asked herself, smoothing out the wrinkles in her beautiful kimono. It was her favorite, made of purple silk and embellished with white embroidery. Hearing her father call for her a few minutes later, Takara took one last look at herself in the mirror and met the old priest in the main living quarters. Saburo was busy setting the low table in the center of the room when she entered, not even looking up when she slid open one of the paper doors. Without a word, the miko began helping him. “Oh, Takara, don’t you look beautiful tonight,” the kind priest said, finally noticing her presence in the room. He smiled, tenderly touching her cheek. “So very much like your mother.” “Arigatou, otou-san,” she replied softly, a becoming pink flush crawling across her face. “The Mizukis will be pleased.” At the mention of their guests, Takara frowned, still in the dark as to why they wanted to meet her. She was only a simple Shinto miko, after all. Setting down the last tea bowl, she decided to ask her father again why the Mizukis were coming. “Why do they want to meet me, otou-san?” Again, Saburo refused to meet her questioning gaze. Instead, he focused his attention back on the table, making sure everything was set just right, and gave his daughter another vague answer. She shook her head in mild exasperation, but before she could ask again, there was a knock at the door. Takara offered to answer the door, allowing Saburo to let out a small sigh of relief. “Konbanwa,” Takara said politely, greeting their guests at the door. She bowed and showed them in, impressed with how well dressed they were. The Mizukis were a small family, consisting of an elegant woman, a stern-looking man, and their son, who appeared to be just around her age,or maybe a year or two older. The boy was not classically handsome, though he did have very lovely blue eyes and he seemed nice enough. He gave the miko a nervous smile as he entered the room, which she returned, not wanting to seem rude. “Welcome,” Saburo greeted them, bowing. “We’re very glad you were able to come, Mizuki-san.” “Yes,” Mr. Mizuki nodded, looking around the small room with an expression of distaste on his face. Around him hung an air of arrogance, as if he thought he was too good to step into such a humble abode. Takara immediately disliked him. His wife wasn’t much better. Takara could feel the woman’s ice blue eyes staring at her, judging her like she was some contestant in a beauty contest. The miko suddenly felt ashamed of what she wore, knowing her kimono paled in comparison to the gorgeous and expensive robe of pure white silk and colorful thread which Mrs. Mizuki wore so regally. “I presume this is your daughter, Kondo-sama?” the woman asked, her eyes never leaving Takara. “Yes, she is my daughter, Takara,” Saburo replied, introducing her to the patrons. “And Takara, I’d like you to meet Mizuki Toru-san, his wife Kameko-san, and their son Hisoka-san.” “It’s very nice to meet you,” Takara said, although it really wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t right to judge their guests after only knowing them for such a short time, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t like them and she got the feeling that, except for young Hisoka, who was wearing a silly grin on his face until his mother shot him a nasty look, they didn’t approve of her. Actually, Takara felt sorry for the boy. He seemed genuinely sweet, despite his parents’ influence. He was painfully shy, however. It wasn’t until they sat down at the table that he spoke, and only then it was to thank Takara when she poured his tea. After she finished serving everyone, Takara kneeled down on the floor beside her father, still aware that Mrs. Mizuki was staring at her with those cold eyes. It was becoming quite unnerving, to say the least. It was as if she was waiting for the miko to make some sort of mistake. A little intimidated, Takara straightened her posture, determined to show the woman that she was just as classy and dignified as she was. “Ita da ki masu.” Dinner was as uncomfortable as when the Mizukis first arrived, though her father tried his best to be friendly and polite. For the most part, it was Saburo and Mrs. Mizuki who dominated the conversation, mostly exchanging information about their children and families. Mr. Mizuki, sitting in the place of honor, looked bored out of his mind, while getting Hisoka to speak was tantamount to teaching a cat to bark. For not the first time that evening, Takara wondered why they were even here when it was obvious they had no desire to be so. This dinner seemed to be a waste of everybody’s time. “Hisoka is a pre-law major attending a prestigious university in Nagano,” Mrs. Mizuki informed them, a smug look on her face. “Only the richest and the brightest are accepted to study there and most students go on to have successful, illustrious careers after graduation. Isn’t that correct, Hisoka?” The quiet boy nodded, his eyes never leaving his plate, and Saburo smiled politely. “You must be very proud, Mizuki-san.” “Yes, I suppose.” The woman suddenly turned her gaze back to Takara, startling the miko. “Takara-san, where do you study?” “Well, I graduated from Juuban High School recently,” she answered, regretting her words as soon as they flew from her mouth. A thinly plucked eyebrow rose in her direction. “High school? Is that as far as you have gotten in your educational career?” “Takara decided to forego college at the moment in favor of helping me run the shrine,” Saburo explained. “However, she is a very bright girl. She always brought home good marks on her assignments and I know sometime in the future, Takara would like to continue with her studies.” “I see.” The raven-haired teen let out a slow breath, silently counting to ten in her head. It was taking all her willpower not to lose her temper in front of their guests. Takara did not like the woman’s condescending attitude at all. However, she forced a small smile on her face and turned to Mrs. Mizuki, noticing her tea bowl was almost empty. “Mizuki-san, would you care for some more tea?” Takara offered. The woman nodded, allowing the miko to take her bowl and pour some more tea. Perhaps a little nervous by the way Mrs. Mizuki watched her every movement, Takara sat the drink back down in front of her with shaking hands, a little bit of the liquid splashing onto the woman’s beautiful kimono. She gasped, horrified as Mrs. Mizuki stood and tried to wipe away the tea with her napkin. “I’m so sorry!” Takara apologized, trying to help. “Let me help.” “That’s quite alright, young lady,” Mrs. Mizuki snapped. “You’ve done enough. It’s ruined.” “Gomen nasai.” Mr. Mizuki eventually managed to calm his wife down with the promise of a new kimono, but the rest of the dinner was ate in angered silence. They didn’t stay much longer, declining dessert and leaving early. Takara was grateful, although embarrassed that she ruined the entire evening. “I’m sorry, otou-san,” she said, helping the priest clear the table after the Mizukis left. Saburo sighed, but gave his daughter a small smile. “That’s okay, Takara. It was probably for the best…” ***** A couple of days later, Saburo watched Takara and Miyuki feed the crows from his spot on the porch, a sad smile on his tired face. His daughter looked so happy just now, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. How was he going to tell her? After the disastrous dinner with the Mizukis, the kind priest never expected to hear from them again, so it was a complete surprise when he received a visit from none other than Mizuki Kameko and her son earlier that day while Takara and Miyuki were at the store, buying groceries for dinner. As it turned out, despite Takara’s mistake, they were still interested in making a deal, one Saburo was reluctant to agree to after witnessing the Mizukis‘ true colors. Still, he knew that they were wealthy and could give Takara the kind of care she needed. The medical bills were piling up and Saburo was quickly running out of money to pay them. He didn’t know what else to do. Takara needed her medication and of course, there was always the possibility of finally needing a heart transplant, but all that required money, of which the Mizukis had plenty. If there was any other way around this, he would do it without a second thought, but there really was no other choice. Besides, Hisoka seemed like a nice enough kid (unlike his parents) and he was also Shinto, which was more than he could say about his daughter’s devout Catholic boyfriend. Not that Saburo didn’t like Hino Keitaro. The few times he met the young man, he found Keitaro to be very polite and respectful. If he was Shinto or even Buddhist, Saburo would welcome him into the family with open arms. However, he was not and that worried the priest, who was hoping to leave the shrine in the care of his son-in-law upon his death. After the girls finished feeding the birds, Miyuki decided to go home, leaving Takara to sweep the porch by herself. The miko seemed surprised to find her father standing by the entrance of the shrine as she grabbed a broom. “Otou-san, isn’t it time for your evening meditation?” Takara asked, looking out at the beautiful sunset. Saburo always prayed to the sacred fire before dinner. The priest nodded, taking the straw broom from his daughter’s hands. His face was solemn and serious as he motioned her to stay. “We need to talk, Takara.” “What is it?” At first, Saburo was silent, unsure of how to bring up the subject. He let out a long breath, praying to the kami to give him the right words to say. Takara touched his arm, asking him again what they needed to talk about. “What was your opinion of Mizuki Hisoka-san?” he finally asked. Takara shrugged her slender shoulders. “Hisoka-kun seemed nice, if a little shy. He didn’t really say much at dinner, so it wouldn’t be fair to judge him, but I liked him. Why do you want to know?” “He’s asked for your hand in marriage.” Purple eyes widened in shock. “What?” Takara asked in a surprised whisper. “But we barely know each other.” “That’s not uncommon in arranged marriages. Your mother and I didn‘t meet until about a month before our wedding.” “An arranged marriage?” The pretty miko closed her eyes tightly, as if hoping that when she opened them again, it would all just be a horrible dream. It didn’t work. “Otou-san, please tell me you didn’t agree to this.” “It was for your own good, Takara…” “You did?” she exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t believe you agreed, even after what happened at the dinner. How could you do something like that?” This was not going as well as Saburo had hoped. He reached for her hand, but the miko stepped away, shaking her head. “Takara, try to understand. The Mizukis are wealthy and they can provide you with the kind of life you deserve. I know Toru-san and Kameko-san were unpleasant, but Hisoka-san is a nice, polite Shinto boy who I know will treat you right.” “But what about Keitaro?” “Keitaro-san is a fine young man, but-” “But what?” she asked when Saburo didn’t immediately finish his sentence. “Is it because he’s Catholic?” The priest didn’t have to answer. The minute the words were out of her mouth, Takara knew it was true. He had always wanted her to marry a Shinto so that her husband could help her with the shrine after he died. “Takara, that’s not the only reason why.” “But it is a big part, isn’t it?” Saburo sighed. “Yes, I would like you to marry a Shinto, but let me explain-” “I don’t want to hear it, otou-san,” she said, the tears now freely flowing down her face. “I thought you always taught me to look at the person, not their race or religion, but here you are, doing the exact thing you taught me was wrong. I can’t forgive you.” “Takara…” Without waiting to hear what Saburo had to say, Takara ran off, her body shaking with sobs. The priest could only watch her leave, whispering her name as the heavens began to cry. ***** In the living room of the apartment he shared with Minoru, Keitaro looked out the window, watching the pouring rain and the fantastic display of lightning which streaked across the dark sky. The storm had come up unexpectedly, ruining what was, for the most part, a beautiful spring day. “I guess the weatherman was wrong,” Keitaro said, closing the curtains on the dreary scene and turning back around to find his best friend lounging on the couch, channel surfing. The future politician rolled his eyes and grabbed the remote from Minoru’s hand, turning off the television set. “Hey, why did you do that?” Minoru asked, sitting up. “I was watching TV.” The more serious of the two took a seat in his favorite leather armchair and pulled out a thick file he brought home from the office. “I’m trying to work here, Minoru-kun,” Keitaro replied, hiding the remote between the cushions. He then raised an eyebrow toward the redhead. “Something that maybe you should think about doing sometime, instead of staying here all day, watching TV and playing video games.” “Yeah, yeah… I told you I’m working on it, man. Not all of us were lucky to be offered a job right after graduation, you know. It’s a competitive world out there and I wasn’t exactly an honor graduate like you were…” The blond laughed. That was the understatement of the year. Keitaro still didn’t know how Minoru managed to pass his ethics class when he showed up an hour late for his final, still a little tipsy from the party he attended the night before. “And whose fault was that?” “Kinomoto-sensei’s,” Minoru answered matter-of-factly, provoking a doubtful look from Keitaro. “What? He’s the one who almost failed me.” “Minoru-kun…” “Alright, it was partly mine too, I suppose,” he finally admitted. “I probably shouldn’t have gone to Momohara-san’s party when I should have been here, studying with you, but that’s all in the past. Luckily, I managed to do well enough on the exam to squeak by with a passing mark. I guess those good luck charms we bought at Hikawa really did work, huh?” Trust Minoru to think that barely passing his exam was a good thing. Keitaro shook his head in exasperation and turned his attention back to his work while Minoru started looking through the classifieds section of the newspaper, occasionally circling a phone number. The men worked in relative silence, barring the occasional roar of thunder, until Minoru heard a soft knock on the door. Minoru looked up from the paper he was reading, folding it in half. “Were you expecting anyone, Keitaro-kun?” “Huh?” the blond asked, absorbed in his work. He hadn’t heard the knock. “No, I’m not expecting company. Why do you ask?” Another knock, this time louder than before, answered his question. Minoru shrugged his shoulders and went to answer the door, wondering who would be crazy enough to come out in this storm. It was probably just one of the neighbors, wanting to borrow a cup of sugar or a flashlight in case the electricity went out. Minoru opened the door, surprised to find an exquisitely beautiful young woman standing in the hall, completely soaked to the bone. She was shaking, and it appeared she had been crying, her violet eyes bloodshot. “Takara-san?” he asked worriedly. “What are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She shook her head, rubbing her freezing arms in a desperate attempt to warm herself. The red and white robes of her miko attire clung to her body, dripping with rainwater. “I need to talk to Keitaro. Is he home?” “Yes, of course. Come inside.” He stepped aside, allowing Takara to enter the apartment. Keitaro, who had been concentrating on his work, put his papers away and jumped up from his chair. His gray eyes widened, never having seen his eternally optimistic girlfriend look so upset. “Takara…” The miko threw herself in his arms, her body erupting into another round of sobs. Not knowing what to make of it, Keitaro simply held her close, ignoring the fact that his clothes were becoming as soaked as her robes. He looked over at Minoru, silently asking for some privacy. “Um…I’ll go get some towels from the bathroom,” the redhead said, getting the message. Once Minoru disappeared down the hall, Keitaro gently sat Takara down on the couch, pulling out a handkerchief to dry her eyes. She calmed down somewhat, though tears were still running down her pale cheeks. Taking her clenched hand, he lightly squeezed her fingers in comfort. “Takara, what is it?” Keitaro finally asked, lifting her chin. “Did something happen to you?” Her soft pink lips quivered as she opened her mouth, but no words came out. Keitaro urged her to take a couple of deep breaths, helping her to find her voice again. “Otou-san…He arranged a marriage for me,” Takara stuttered, her voice slightly cracking. “I just learned about it today.” “What?” Keitaro asked softly. “An arranged marriage? To who?” “His name is Mizuki Hisoka-san and his parents are wealthy patrons of the shrine. They were the ones we had dinner with a couple of nights ago,” she answered, wiping her nose with the handkerchief. “I just can’t believe otou-san would do something like this…” Takara started crying again, falling into her lover’s arms. Again, Keitaro held her close, rocking the pretty miko back and forth. “It will be okay, Takara,” he whispered. “I’m sure if you just go back to the shrine and talk with your father, he will change his mind. All he wants is what’s best for you. Explain to him-” “No, you don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “What otou-san thinks is best for me is to marry a Shinto. He doesn’t care what I want.” “What?” Keitaro suddenly stopped rocking Takara, surprised by what she had told him. He helped her sit back up and sighed, pained by the hopeless look in her beautiful amethyst eyes. “You mean this is all because I’m Catholic? Is that the reason your father wants you to marry Mizuki-san?” Slowly, she nodded. “That’s the only reason that makes any sense, Keitaro. Otou-san always wanted me to marry a priest, or at least someone who followed our religion. He thinks I’m not strong enough to take care of the shrine after he dies, so he wants me to marry someone who can. I used to not mind, because I just always assumed I would, but then I met you…” Her voice trailed off as Minoru walked back into the living room. In one arm, he carried a stack of fluffy towels. In the other, there was a pair of jeans and an old, faded rock T-shirt, along with a belt. Minoru sat the clothes on the back of the couch and handed a couple of the towels to Takara and Keitaro. “I’m sorry, Takara-san, but I’m afraid these were the best I could find,” Minoru said. “They’re probably too big, but you can use the belt to hold up the jeans.” “I’m sure they will be fine, Minoru-san,” she replied, reaching for the jeans and T-shirt. “Arigatou.” “You can change in the bathroom down the hall and feel free to take a warm bath. The water’s already drawn. Hang your robes on the back of the door and I’ll take them down to the dryer later.” Wiping away the last of her tears with the handkerchief, Takara went to the bathroom to change, thanking them once again for their kindness. After she left, Minoru sat down beside his friend, giving him a concerned look. Though he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, he couldn’t help overhearing their conversation. “What are you going to do, Keitaro-kun?” he asked. “You aren’t going to let her marry the guy, are you? “I don’t know, Minoru-kun.“ The blond sighed and buried his face in his hands. “I just don’t know.” ***** Saburo paced across the hardboard floor, for the hundredth time looking down at his watch. It was nearing nine o’clock. Where in the world was she? Why hadn’t she come home? This wasn’t like Takara. He never should have let her run off after their argument earlier that evening. The priest assumed that she was going to Miyuki’s house like she usually did on the very rare occasions they fought and that she would come home a couple of hours later when she calmed down. However, when he called the Asaka household, Takara wasn’t there and Miyuki said she hadn’t seen her since she left the shrine right before he told his daughter about the arranged marriage. Saburo had no idea where else she could have gone and it was driving him insane with worry, especially in this storm. What if Takara experienced another attack? It wasn’t unusual for her to have one when she was upset, which she undoubtedly was right now. Saburo cursed his stupidity. Why did he ever agree to the arranged marriage with Mizuki Hisoka? He would hate himself forever if something happened to his daughter and he knew he was to blame. If only she would come home! He would give anything to see those gorgeous violet eyes, so much like her mother’s, once more. “Please, Takara…come home.” ***** Takara took a deep breath before she stepped out of the bathroom, still feeling a little breathless and dizzy from her latest attack while she was in the bath. It was one of her more serious spells, but she didn’t want Keitaro or Minoru to worry. She was sure it was nothing, just a side effect of all the running and crying she had done earlier. The boys looked up when she entered the living room, slowly shuffling over to the couch and taking a seat beside Keitaro. Her boyfriend reached for her hand, concerned. “Takara, are you feeling okay?” “I’m fine, Keitaro,” she lied, putting on a brave smile. “Just another one of my dizzy spells. It’s nothing.” He didn’t look very convinced. Keitaro had yet to learn the real extent of her illness, though Takara suspected he knew it was more serious than she made it out to be. She just didn’t want him treating her like a porcelain doll as Miyuki and her father were known to do. Minoru, most likely sensing that the lovers would want some more privacy, offered to go down to the laundry room to dry Takara’s clothes. He gathered the robes from the bathroom and quietly slipped out of the apartment. Once he was gone, she scooted over closer to Keitaro, resting her head on his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re fine, Takara?” he asked again. “You look a little pale.” “I told you it was nothing,” she insisted, maybe in a rougher voice than she originally intended. The miko sighed, looking up at Keitaro. “Gomen. I guess I’m still upset about what happened earlier.” Keitaro lightly kissed the top of her hair, holding her closer. “That’s okay. I should have believed you earlier. It’s just that sometimes I worry about you. I don’t want lose you.” “I don’t want to lose you either, Keitaro.” The two of them sat in silence, listening to the soft rain that was still pouring down outside. The worst of the storm had already passed, though they could hear faint rumbles of far away thunder every once in a while. Takara considered calling her father, knowing he was probably very worried about her, especially on a night like tonight. However, she also knew that he would insist she come back to the shrine if she called and she wasn’t sure she was ready to do that. A single tear ran down her cheek. She didn’t know what to do. Takara loved her father, but how could she ever forgive him? How could she ever go through with the wedding to Hisoka when it was Keitaro she really wanted? She loved Keitaro. There was no doubt in her mind that she did. They hadn’t known each other for long, but Takara knew what she felt in her heart from the very first time he kissed her. It was love, pure and simple. Taking his hand, the miko weaved her fingers with those of her lover. His hand was warm and comforting, as if they had been sitting in front of an open fire. She brought it to her lips, kissing one of his knuckles, and sighed. “What are we going to do?” Keitaro pressed his lips together, pulling out the silver crucifix which hung around his neck from underneath his shirt. It had been a graduation gift from his uncle, and he religiously wore everyday, just as Takara wore the ruby pendant she received from her late mother. However, the crucifix suddenly felt cold and heavy in his hand, a symbol of the cross he bore. While Takara was in the bathroom, Keitaro had done some serious thinking, trying to come up with some way to convince Saburo to change his mind about the arranged marriage. If the only reason why the priest wanted to marry his daughter off was the fact that he was Catholic, then… Keitaro wrapped his hand tightly around the small cross, taking a deep breath. “I will learn the way of the Shinto,” he declared softly. “Your father can teach me, and then when he dies-” The miko placed a slender finger against his lips, shaking her head. “Keitaro, I cannot ask you to give up your religion. Catholicism is part of who you are, as the way of the gods is part of me.” “But Kondo-sama wants someone who can take care of Hikawa. If that is what it takes to keep us together, I‘m willing to do it.” “I’m not, Keitaro,” Takara said, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for offering, but I can’t let you do that. Besides, being a priest isn’t your dream. You must continue with your plan to become a politician and make your and your uncle’s most cherished dream come true.” Keitaro let go of the crucifix and took Takara’s other hand, pulling her so that they were sitting face to face. “But we have to do something, Takara,” he said. “I meant what I said before. I don’t want to lose you. Once in my life, I lost someone I loved dearly, causing me to shun away any and all relationships in fear of losing them as well. Even my friendship with Minoru-kun, my best friend since grade school, suffered, though somehow it managed to persevere.” He paused, reaching up to caress her cheek. “But you changed all that, Takara. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long, long time and it is all because of you. I’m not about let you go, too.” He leaned forward for a kiss, taking the beautiful miko by surprise. Keitaro was usually very reserved when it came to showing his affection. Except for that first kiss on the beach, he rarely went any further than chaste pecks on the cheek and hand holding, and even then, only when they were alone. Still, Takara didn’t resist as he pulled her closer, letting the passion take them over. “Aishiteru, Takara,” Keitaro whispered once they finally parted. The words just came out of his mouth without thought or reason, but surprisingly, he didn’t regret them. Takara smiled, wiping away a tear of happiness that ran down her cheek. “I love you, too, Keitaro.” “Then marry me.” Amethyst eyes widened in shock, and even Keitaro looked surprised by what he just said. The thought of marriage had never even crossed his mind before tonight. After all, they had only known each other for a few short months, but the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. He loved her, so why shouldn’t he make Takara his wife? “But otou-san…” she stuttered, still grappling to understand the sudden proposal. “We’ll elope,” Keitaro said, a thousand thoughts and emotions flying around in his head. The blond kneeled down on both his knees in front of Takara, taking both her hands. “We can do it tonight, even. There’s a small church just down the street and I know Father Finley-sama will be happy to marry us.” Takara shook her head. “This is insane, Keitaro. It’s not like you to be so impulsive. I love you, but we’ve only known each other for such a short time. We can’t get married! The idea is ridiculous.” “Why?” he pressed. “I love you and you love me. Isn’t that enough, Takara?” She didn’t answer at first, dropping her gaze to their clasped hands. Keitaro let go of his grasp and reached up to touch her cheek, staring into her deep purple eyes. “Isn’t that enough? Will you marry me, Takara?” “Hai,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. Takara smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Let’s get married.” Feeling a rush of exhilaration flow through his veins, Keitaro stood up with his fiancée still hanging from his neck and began spinning around, both the lovers laughing in jubilation. They were getting married! Finally, they collapsed back on the couch, Takara bursting into another gale of giddy laughter as Keitaro tickled her stomach. She’d never seen him so happy or playful. However, her giggles immediately ceased when she felt another attack coming on, worse than the one she experienced earlier. Her heart was beating wildly and the world seemed be spinning around her at an alarming speed. Takara shut her eyes tight, praying it would go away soon. Not tonight. Not on her wedding night. “Takara, what happened?” Keitaro asked, holding her close. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Tell me. I want to know the truth.” She shook her head. Not tonight. “Just hold me, Keitaro. Hold me and never let me go…” ***** At the Asaka household, Miyuki was preparing to go to bed when she heard the telephone ringing in the living room. She was tempted not to answer it. The blonde suspected it was Takara’s father calling once again, asking if the miko had contacted her, which she hadn’t. He’d been calling every half hour since dinnertime and every time it broke her heart to inform Saburo that Takara hadn‘t called. Still, she pulled on a robe and went downstairs, hoping it was good news. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to sleep anyway, knowing her best friend ran away and nobody knew where to find her. “Moshi moshi,” she answered, picking up the phone. “Asaka residence.” “Miyuki-chan, it’s me.” Miyuki let out a relieved sigh, glad to hear Takara’s voice on the other end. She was okay. “Takara-chan, where have you been?” she asked. “Your father was worried sick about you and so was I. You had us scared half to death.” “Gomen nasai. I’m fine, really. I’m at Keitaro’s and Minoru-san’s apartment.” “Keitaro-san’s apartment?” She frowned, glancing up at the grandfather clock across the room. The hour had just struck eleven o’clock. “At this hour? What are you doing there? It’s not appropriate for a girl to be visiting her boyfriend’s apartment so late at night. People are going to talk.” “He’s not my boyfriend, Miyuki-chan. He’s my fiancé.” The pretty blonde sat down on the couch, not sure if she heard her friend correctly. Did Takara just say that she and Keitaro were getting married? “I know it seems sudden, but I know this is the right thing to do,” Takara continued when Miyuki didn’t say anything. “I love Keitaro and I want to be with him. We‘re eloping tonight.” At that piece of news, Miyuki finally found her voice again. “What? Have the both of you completely lost your minds? You can't elope! What about Kondo-sama?" "Otou-san doesn't understand. I know he meant well by arranging the marriage to Mizuki Hisoka-kun, but that's not the kind of life I want. That's the life he wants for me. He wants me to marry a Shinto and stay at the shrine, so my husband can take over the shrine after he's gone. You know how much I love Hikawa, but the life of a priestess is not what I want anymore. I want to be with Keitaro, no matter what." Pursing her lips together, Miyuki began absent-mindedly twirling the phone cord around her finger, trying to think of something to say that would make Takara change her mind. Eloping was a bad idea. As much as she liked Hino Keitaro, there were certain things about their relationship that worried Miyuki at times, such as the major difference in their religions and Keitaro's notorious workaholic nature, both which could cause problems in the future. Neither one of them was thinking this whole thing through. They were being impulsive and making a rash decision which would affect them for the rest of their lives. "Takara-chan, I know you are very fond of Keitaro-san, but don't you think you should think about this a little more before you run off and get married?" Miyuki asked. "This is a huge decision and it's not something you should take lightly. Have you even thought about how your life will change after you marry? And what about your condition? Will Keitaro-san be able to provide for your care? "He doesn't know about my heart problems yet," the miko admitted softly. "He doesn't know?" The more she heard, the more Miyuki disliked the whole idea. "Oh, Takara-chan, how could you not tell him? He needs to know." "I will, eventually, when the time is right. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Financially, Keitaro is more than capable of taking care of my medical bills. He comes from a very established political family. Money is no problem." "It's not really the money that worries me. It's Keitaro-san's hectic schedule. Can he properly take care of you when he spends most of his time at the office?" "Everything will be fine," Takara repeated. "Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing." "But, Takara-chan..." Takara interrupted her before she could finish her thought. “I love him, Miyuki-chan. Will you please support me?” She sighed, knowing that her arguments were falling on deaf ears. When Takara wanted something, there was no way to change her mind. She could be as stubborn as a mule if she wanted to be. “Are you sure about this, Takara-chan?” “Yes, I am.” “Then I’m happy for you,” Miyuki said. “When is the wedding?” “Midnight, at St. Mary’s Catholic Church,” Takara answered after a brief pause to ask Keitaro the information. “You are going to be there, aren’t you?” “Of course I will. I wouldn’t miss your wedding day for the world,” she replied, forcing herself to sound enthusiastic. “Arigatou, Miyuki-chan. You’re a true friend. See you later.” Miyuki hung up the phone, biting her bottom lip in worry. She hoped Takara and Keitaro knew what they were doing. ***** When Minoru came back upstairs with Takara’s dried robes, he was surprised to find the miko talking on the phone and Keitaro walking in and out of his bedroom, gathering various files and books from the shelf in the living room. Nobody even seemed to hear him come in. What was going on? Minoru set Takara’s robes on the back of the couch, not wanting to disturb her while she was on the telephone, and walked over to Keitaro’s opened bedroom door. Inside, he found the normally tidy room looking as if a tornado had passed through it. Clothes were thrown all over the place, drawers were carelessly flung open, and even Keitaro’s desk was covered with papers. As for Keitaro, he was busy going through his folders, selecting certain files and placing them in the open briefcase on his bed. The blond didn’t look up from his task as Minoru quietly stepped inside the room, stepping over an already packed suitcase. After waiting a few seconds for Keitaro to turn around and realize he was there, Minoru loudly cleared his throat, finally getting his friend’s attention. “What are you doing?” the redhead asked. Keitaro briefly glanced up before returning to his work. “What does it look like I’m doing, Minoru-kun?” he asked. “I’m packing.” “Packing? For what?” Instead of answering, Keitaro walked back out into the living room to grab a couple of more books from the shelves. Minoru sighed in exasperation before he followed him out, still wanting to know what was going on. “Will you hold these for me?” Keitaro asked, handing Minoru some books. The redhead grunted, struggling to balance the stack of thick tomes, including Keitaro’s Bible in his arms. “Arigatou.” “Keitaro-kun, what is this all about?” Minoru asked again, finally managing to get his load under control. “Why are you packing?” “We’re leaving,” he replied simply, not elaborating anymore. Keitaro relieved his friend of some of his burden and headed back to the bedroom, leaving Minoru standing in the middle of the room, again sighing. Why wouldn’t anybody tell him anything? This was starting to get ridiculous. Minoru went back to the bedroom and tossed the books on the bed, determined to get an answer out of Keitaro, no matter what. Surprised, the blond looked up. “What is it, Minoru-kun?” he asked. “Why are you following me around? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Green eyes rolled. “Oh, I don’t know… Maybe because my roommate and best friend has suddenly decided to move out and he won’t tell me why?” “Look, if you’re worried about the rent, it’s not a problem. I’ll pay my share until you find another roommate,” he promised. “Now, if you will excuse me, there are still some things I need to pack from the living room.” “Oh, no you don’t!” Minoru quickly blocked the door with his body, denying Keitaro entry to the other room. “You are not leaving this room until you tell me where you’re going and why.” “Minoru-kun, we really don’t have time for this…” “Really? Why not? What is so freaking important that you can’t even spare one minute of your time to tell me what in the world is going on around here?” Keitaro opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Takara popping her head in the bedroom. She still held the telephone in her hand. “Keitaro, when did you say you wanted to start the wedding ceremony?” the miko asked. “Midnight, at St. Mary’s.” “Arigatou.” Minoru could only stare at his friend in shock as Takara went back to the living room to continue her conversation. Did he just hear what he thought he just heard? “You’re what?” Grinning, Keitaro lightly pushed Minoru out of the way of the door so he could finally get to the living room. “Does that answer your question?” he asked on his way out. ***** The door to the shrine’s living quarters quietly slid open and the miko slipped inside, careful not to startle her father. Saburo was sleeping on a futon bed in the center of the room, no doubt waiting for her return. Takara paused for a moment, wiping away a tear. She hated to do this to her father. “Otou-san…” she whispered. The old man stirred, muttering something in his sleep. Takara quickly stepped into the shadows, relieved when Saburo settled back down and began lightly snoring. That was a close call. When she was sure he was fast asleep, she tiptoed to her bedroom, lighting only a single candle as not to draw attention to her presence. Takara then pulled out a small suitcase and began packing some clothes and a few treasured possessions. A photo album, the blanket her mother made her, her favorite book… It wasn’t very much, though to her, they could have been the Crown Jewels of England. She couldn’t leave them behind. After she finished zipping up the suitcase. Takara took one last look around the room, her eyes landing on a box covered with an old tablecloth. It was the hope chest her mother had kept for her. She’d almost forgotten about it. Her mother had always said that she would give it to her on her wedding day. Though there was no way Takara would be able to drag the large box out of the shrine without waking her father, maybe she could take a couple of the items with her. Lifting the tablecloth off the wooden chest, Takara unfastened the locks and looked inside, a layer of dust flying in the air. She coughed loudly, for a moment forgetting that she was supposed to be quiet. Fortunately, her father didn’t hear. Inside the chest, Takara found several old framed photographs, including her parents’ wedding picture, a diary belonging to her mother, a couple of pieces of modest jewelry, and a pair of gold candlesticks. She packed most of the items in her suitcase, leaving behind the candlesticks and a few of the pictures which wouldn’t fit. Those she put back in the chest, for the first time noticing that there was something else laying at the bottom of the box. Curious, Takara lifted up the silky fabric, surprised to see it was a gorgeous kimono made of dark red silk and intricately embroidered with golden thread. She had never seen anything so beautiful. It was like something the empress would wear, even putting the kimono Mrs. Mizuki wore the night of the dinner to shame. Holding the kimono to her body, Takara smiled. It was perfect! Perhaps it was tradition for a Christian bride to wear white on her wedding day, but Takara saw no reason why she couldn’t wear red if she wanted. After all, her mother probably saved the kimono for such an occasion. She quickly changed into the kimono and pulled her long raven hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. A pair of red jade hoop earrings and matching bangle bracelets, which she had also found in the chest, completed the look. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Takara gasped, surprised at how much like her mother she appeared. She and the woman in the wedding photograph could have been twins. The same dark hair, the same eyes Takara knew were violet instead of the gray they appeared in the old picture, the same slender frame… “Okaa-san…” she whispered, reaching out her hand to touch the smooth surface of the mirror as if she expected her reflection to be real. “It’s my wedding day. I wish you were here.” The sound of a clock chiming interrupted her short fantasy. Takara glanced over to the alarm sitting on her nightstand. It was 11:30. She needed to hurry. Keitaro was waiting for her outside in his car. Takara quickly finished putting away her mother’s treasures and blew out the candle, fumbling in the dark to reach the sliding door. The suitcase in her hand felt heavy and for a moment, she was doubtful she would be able to carry it by herself. Still, she managed to quietly drag it out of her room, once again pausing when she came upon the sleeping form of her father. She considered not leaving the letter she had hastily written before she and Keitaro left the apartment, right after she called Miyuki. It didn’t seem like an adequate way to say goodbye. There was so much more she wanted to tell him that could not be expressed in a short half-page note, like even though she couldn’t forgive him for what he had done, she still loved him with all her heart and that she was sorry it had to be this way. But still, Takara took out the folded piece of stationary and kneeled beside the futon, placing the letter by his pillow where he would be sure to find it in the morning. Just as she was about to leave, Saburo’s dark chocolate eyes slowly opened and the old priest groaned. Takara froze in her spot, not knowing what else to do. He was looking straight at her, but he was smiling. “Noriko…” Noriko. That was her mother’s name. He must have been confused by the fact that Takara was wearing Noriko’s kimono and jewelry. Saburo whispered his late wife’s name once again before he fell back asleep and Takara let out a quiet sigh. Without thinking, she reached up to unclasp the gold chain holding the ruby pendant her mother gave her and placed it on top of the letter. Her father needed it more than she did. Takara then lightly kissed his forehead before she grabbed her suitcase and silently slipped out of the shrine and out of her old life forever. ***** When Keitaro and Takara finally arrived at the church about ten minutes after midnight, they found Minoru and Miyuki already there, waiting in front of the altar with an elderly priest. The looks on their faces plainly revealed their feelings about the wedding. While Minoru wore a grin about a mile wide on his face, the blonde was a lot less enthusiastic. Miyuki nibbled on her thumbnail, pacing ever so slightly until she spotted the lovebirds enter through the stain-glassed doors. “Takara-chan!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing throughout the small chapel. “Where have you been? I thought you said the ceremony was to begin at midnight.” “I’m sorry, Miyuki-chan,” the bride apologized, giving her best friend a hug while Keitaro went to speak to the priest. “We went back to Hikawa so I could pack a couple of things and I guess it took longer than I thought.” “You went back the shrine? Does that mean your father -” Takara shook her head sadly. “He doesn’t know yet. Otou-san was sleeping when I snuck in, so I left a letter explaining everything. But you’ll take care of him when I leave, won’t you, Miyuki-chan?” “Leave?” The blonde’s brown eyes widened as she pulled Takara down to sit on the front pew. “What are you talking about? You can’t possibly mean you’re actually ‘leaving’. I mean, I know you and Keitaro-san are going to want to get your own place, but that doesn’t mean you can’t visit Hikawa whenever you want…” The beautiful bride sighed, looking down at the hand Miyuki was gripping so tight, it brought tears to her eyes. “Keitaro wants us to move into his uncle’s house out in the country. From what he’s told me, it’s about an hour drive away from Hikawa, but it‘s supposed to be very beautiful, the perfect place for newlyweds to start their new lives together. We‘re leaving right after the ceremony. That‘s why I went back to the shrine to get my things.” “You’re leaving Tokyo?” Miyuki asked in disbelief. The blonde jumped up from her seat, resuming her pacing. The more she heard, the less she liked the entire affair. “Are you sure that is what you really want, Takara-chan? It seems like you’re giving an awful lot up just to be with Keitaro-san. I know you love him, but can you honestly say this is what you expected your wedding day to be like? What happened to the beautiful Shinto ceremony performed by your father? You and I have been planning our dream weddings ever since second grade, and I have to say that getting married in a Catholic church was not part of the plan. Maybe you should give this more thought before you make the biggest mistake of your life.” “It’s not a mistake, Miyuki-chan,” Takara insisted, standing up so that she stood face to face with her best friend. Her voice began out calm, gradually building as she tried to explain her feelings to Miyuki. “Yes, this isn’t exactly how I pictured my wedding day and maybe we are rushing things, but I don’t care. The important thing is I love Keitaro and I want to marry him, regardless of who performs the ceremony. In the end, why would it really matter if I got married in a church or in a shrine? I just want to be with him. Can’t you understand that? Can‘t you support my decision?” Miyuki wiped her watery eyes and pulled a tearful Takara in a tight hug. “Gomen nasai. I didn’t mean to upset you. If this is what you really want, then I‘m happy for you. Really I am.” “Arigatou, Miyuki-chan.” After a few moments of crying on each other’s shoulders, Miyuki forced out a laugh and reached into her purse, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the bride‘s tear-stained cheek. “Look at us, blubbering like a couple of babies. This is your wedding day, the happiest day of your life! We should be smiling, not crying.” Takara grinned, giving her friend another hug. “It’s your fault, Miyuki-chan,” she teased, sniffling. “You started it. But I am going to miss you.” “I am, too,” Miyuki replied, feeling another round of tears coming on. “So, so much…” “Are you two girls going to cry the entire time?” a familiar male voice asked, walking up behind the two. “You do know that this is a wedding and not a funeral. You can cut out the waterworks.” Takara and Miyuki glanced up, the blonde shooting Minoru a dirty look as she struggled to get control of her emotions. “It’s Takara’s wedding and we’ll cry if we want to,” she retorted, though she finally let go of her friend and wiped away the last remaining tears. Minoru simply rolled his dark green eyes. He would never understand why women became so emotional over the silliest things. It must be just one of those mysteries of life. “Well, if you two are finished, Father Finley-sama and Keitaro-kun are ready to begin the ceremony,” he informed them. “Arigatou, Minoru-san,” Takara replied, straightening her gorgeous kimono and taking in a deep breath to calm her nerves. “I guess I’m ready as well. How do I look?” A sad smile crossed Miyuki’s face as she placed a gentle kiss on the blushing bride’s cheek. “Beautiful, Takara-chan. Absolutely beautiful.” ***** As Takara walked over and stopped beside him in front of the altar, Keitaro instinctively reached for her trembling hand, squeezing the slender fingers in comfort. Though she tried not to show it, he knew she was nervous. He was nervous too. Eloping in the middle of the night with a woman he met less than three months ago was by far the most impulsive thing he’d ever done in his entire life. But, somehow, it felt right. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked one more time, holding his breath until Takara nodded her head and smiled. “More than anything in the world,” she answered. Minoru and Miyuki, acting as best man and maid-of-honor, took their places on either side of the couple, the blonde biting down on her lip to hold back her tears while Minoru continued smiling in encouragement, although Keitaro could have sworn he saw the beginning of a tear forming in the corner of his goofy best friend’s eye. However, with a blink of an eye, it was gone and Minoru was instead giving him the thumbs up as the priest began the short ceremony. “We are gathered here today to join Hino Keitaro-san and Kondo Takara-san in holy matrimony,” Father Finley began, accenting his Japanese with his thick Irish brogue. “Keitaro-san, wilt thou take Takara-san for thy lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” “I will,” Keitaro answered without pause. “And Takara-san, wilt thou take Keitaro-san for your lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” Takara snuck a glance at her handsome groom and took a deep breath before she finally whispered “I will” as well, much to Keitaro’s relief. The priest then asked for the ring, generously provided by Miyuki when it was discovered that in all the rush of preparing for the hasty wedding, they had forgotten about buying a ring. Father Finley sprinkled it with holy water and recited a prayer of blessing before handing the ring to the groom. Keitaro slowly slid the simple ruby ring on Takara’s finger, his voice slightly shaking as he said, “With this ring I thee wed, and promise thee my fidelity.” “May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob be with you, and may He bless you greatly in every way; that you may see your children’s children unto the third and fourth generation, and thereafter enjoy without end the blessed life of heaven, with the help of Jesus Christ our Lord, who with the Father and the Holy Ghost, liveth and reigneth God through all eternity. With the power invested by me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” His heart filled with a joy he thought he would never feel again, Keitaro lifted Takara’s chin and kissed her lightly on the lips to the music of Minoru’s frat boy cheers and Miyuki’s quiet sobs. “I love you, Takara,” he whispered when they parted. “I-I-I…” Takara stuttered, squeezing her eyes shut as she suddenly clutched her breast. Beside her, Miyuki gasped. “Takara-chan!” she screamed. After that, everything was a blur. DISCLAIMER: Sailor Moon is the property of Takeuchi Naoko.