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Swerving his head to the left, Ren’s eyes first fell on Ann. Farther past her cheery presence, the shell-pink hues of the cherry blossoms blended together behind her, leaving little impact as the rickshaw dashed past the multitudes of trees.
They were almost at the Hie Shrine, and right on schedule to boot. It seemed that the preceding photoshoot and second salon visits didn’t take up too much time. Ren wasn’t that concerned in the first place, anyways. He knew that the time taken for Ann’s mother to fix her makeup was a special moment for just the two of them.
Before her mother went to join the procession walking a shorter route to the shrine, the two embraced and likely wished to never let go. Ren was happy to see Ann reconnecting with her parents, even if it took some doing. It didn’t make Ren’s asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage any easier, but at least everything came together long before this sunny, yet gently breezy April 11th.
Her hair staying packed, smooth, and entirely perfect under her headdress, Ann’s head giddily tossed her gaze this way and that—and finally fell on Ren. As though at complete ease, she leaned back against her seat, but her dreamy visage never left Ren’s.
Ren was happy that, even with both of them at nineteen years old, Ann never lost her fire or her heart. If anything, she was more beautiful than she already was all those years back. Although Japan’s blossoms in the springtime were globally renowned, they couldn’t steal away from Ann’s twinkling glacier-blue eyes, or her venetian-red lips outlining that pearly smile, or her glistening blonde hair—done up with precise elegance—shining from under her silk tsunokakushi and other hair ornaments.
No words were exchanged, but their sparkling eye contact and the firm grasping of one another’s hands threw the steady pulses of their hearts into a throbbing race as to who would burst into tears first. Neither groom or bride would’ve minded losing to the other—not at any other time. But the gods awaited their covenant at the top of the hour.
When explanations were laid out and Ren wrote out his pledge in his finest handiwork, the poised shrine maiden led the couple back out for the official procession. The swooning flute and pulsating drums rang in everyone’s ears. Three minutes remained until the clock would strike noon. This was it.
Ren wished he could hug Ryuji and Yusuke, both of whom looked dashing in their dark suits. Maybe Ren could ask for Sojiro or his parents to hold his other hand. He wished he could yell back to beseech Sumire or Futaba to shout praises for Ann and him. He felt he could crumble otherwise.
But little did he know that even Ann ached to run back to Shiho and Haru for hugs. She wished to kiss her mother on the cheek in farewell to the younger Ann that was never wed under a hallowed promise.
She even wished she could cry her happy, yet scared cries into Ren’s chest, whereupon the Amamiya family crest dangled proudly.
However, without ever looking anywhere but directly forward, Ren and Ann relied on their warm hands to push each other further down the road. Under the guise of the heavenly music of woodwinds and percussion, they ambled closer to the beautiful, yet almost looming temple.
It truly felt like a slight mistake would mold the rest of their lives into misfortune, maybe dragging those of all present attendants with them.
But it was now or never at this point. Within the venerated interior, the two would stand before the gods and fulfill what the last three years of their lives were building up to.
Feeling the slender warmth of Ann’s fingers, Ren found it within himself to smile again. Once more, he bathed his mind in the clarity that this was worth all the effort up to now.
Above all, a Shinto wedding called for harmony amongst the two families. It remains part of the sacred oath to love and serve each other and the world. And when Ren subdued his jittering anxiety, he could recall no masked detestation behind the warmth that his and Ann’s parents exchanged amongst each other. They even took a liking to their children’s high school friends. Only a month before today, Ann’s mother whisked the gleeful girls on a trip to find the best kimonos for each of them. Ren and Ann’s fathers treated Ren, Ryuji, Yusuke, and even Ren’s mother (dolled up by Mrs. Takamaki herself) to a hearty sushi dinner in Ginza.
And of course, those high school friends couldn’t have been more excited by the prospect of this day. Rather, a certain charge commander was the final straw that broke Ren’s hesitance.
Said hesitance had crept up very silently, completely undetected. Since the fall season of 2016, Ren had Ann’s passionate love. In later years, matrimonial blessings were given to him by both of their families. The stage was set for the big milestone—but Ren was scared to set everything into motion. Maybe she’d say no, or that she’d say yes just for something to collapse on them down the road.
Then came that fateful night, in the chilly autumn of 2018, while visiting Shibuya with Ann. Ren took it upon himself to amble down the familiar streets alone. Leaning against a streetlamp in Central Street, he cried tears he hadn’t cried in forever—until Ryuji stumbled upon him. He probably expected to meet him and Ann the next morning, but he approached and demanded Ren’s answers with that same brotherly kindness and concern. The hopeless romantic couldn’t help but throw everything on his mind out in front of him, and…well, Ryuji seemed to love that his oldest Shujin friends could be engaged soon.
Ren was slow to process Ryuji’s rambles, only mustering the power to nod a few times and wrap Ryuji into a tight bearhug. But, just seeing a friend smile and cheer him on was enough to push him forward. WIth elegantly-plattered sushi takeout in their cozy hotel room, Ren followed his personal rendition of all the classic proposal beats—and Ann’s eyes affirmatively sparkled through the tears.
“I never thought you’d ask,” she would later say that night, her eyes briefly fixed on the diamond ring that wrapped snugly around her finger.
Despite its brilliance, however, the ring couldn’t stop Ann from constantly turning up to her fiance, whose body she leaned into like a soft pillow.
And every time her eyes looked up to his, Ren felt a warmth in his chest. He couldn’t say he was uncomfortable, however. Perhaps, he was maybe too comfortable like this. There was still paperwork and wedding preparations to be attended to.
Months have passed since then, and now they were marching into Chiyoda’s Hie Shrine to proclaim their marriage before the gods. All things considered, only those gods could judge Ren and Ann—and their families and friends stood beside them under the deducing eyes.
Ren’s smile stood strong the whole march through—and he felt Ann’s somewhere down the road. A minute remained before the clock would read for noon. The crux of their lives was right past the entrance doors—but Ren Amamiya and Ann Takamaki were ready.
The great gods who oversaw the Amamiyas’, the Takamakis’, and their other few friends were definitely aware of the upcoming oaths by now. To those invisible powers, this was probably just another marriage for them to bless, under the conditions of goodwill hereon from all those present.
But as they did for every union before, they were attentively watching this one now. It seemed they could never tire of presiding over countless mortals, after all.
Even so, the cartwheels and somersaults that once quaked in Ren’s chest were slowly dwindling. His montsuki haori hakama felt far more comfortable on him, heavy fabrics and all.
The priest, whose voice was clear and pronounced with every syllable, knew very well what he was doing. Oh sure, that would’ve come with the calling of being a Shinto priest in the first place. But even then, it seemed this tall and self-possessed, but humble man was the best of the best for this matrimonial occasion. He never seemed disgruntled around them. If anything, his calm composure still had a subtle passion, in both gesture and prayer, that implied that he was excited to announce another of many weddings to invisible powers.
It was easy to be swept away by the gentle authority in this proclamation of the ceremony. But Ren kept himself mindful to bow with everyone else, following suit with the priest.
A few seconds passed, and then the miko stepped forward and center.
A moment of chilling silence, and then those familiar flutes and percussions swept the shrine maiden up into a dance so benign, but passionate in its elegance.
Trying to keep his eyes on the performance, thus moderately fighting to avoid contact with his gorgeous bride, Ren recalled that Ann was hoping to have a moment such as this for the ritual. Even if his beloved was a woman of contemporary jives to electric pop music, she was ecstatic when they would talk of the finer points of this hour. It was what first implanted in their heads the idea of a Shinto ceremony and then an evening Western reception.
Ren himself had an upbringing that seldom proposed of himself or his close ones marrying in such a traditional way. But he wouldn’t have it any other way; not many Western weddings had graceful maidens gingerly twirl and wave to soaring high-registered instruments.
When the maiden returned to her side of the altar, and the proceedings moved forward, Ren felt himself colored with tranquil delight. He was sure the gods’ feelings were mutual, considering that such dances aimed to entertain them, above all.
The instruments diminuendoed, but still rang clear, as the priest presented an elegant set of red and and white cups and carafe before the bride and groom. Ren felt a tiny jerk at his insides, conjuring what he remembered from drinking bathroom tap water every night for the past week.
Praying that his bodily reflexes would translate bland water to zestier sake, Ren graciously took the small cup offered to him. He hoped that the quick puff and collapse of his chest wasn’t evident to all, lest the ceremony be juxtaposed by awkwardness from then on.
Just get it over with.
Ren brought the cup to his lips.
No, wait…bask in this, and you’ll do it right.
He remembered that he had his promise to make clear and proud—to friends, family, gods, and bride.
One, two…three.
It felt good to put his wholehearted care into this ceremony. Perhaps that was why the intricate traditions of the Shinto wedding were right up his alley, after all.
He left Ann’s turn at the small cup, followed by the medium cup, to…well, Ann herself. Ren, her bridegroom, was proud to see her eagerly put in her own care and love. He didn’t always think he was worthy of her kisses, compliments, or evening affirmations of past accomplishments and future fortunes. But under this sacred pledge, he embraced it fully.
Sometimes, Ann had the cooler head in these moments of focus. Years after their high school phantom thievery ended, either of them could take the other’s position in leading the charge. And judging from his brief glance at her peacefully, almost happily, having her share of the rich drink, Ren was sure this was the part where Ann carried the mantle with poise.
Both of them knew that this was the sign of something good; if one was hesitant, then the other would spring forward to help. Their covenant meant that they’d unapologetically, unconditionally push each other through the ups and downs of life. Now, the idea of traversing the turbulence of life, hand always in hand, excited the groom. The dark, nostalgic disquiets of age and tragedy didn’t shake the hope that pierced through the midst of it.
Ren received the medium-sized cup, and brought his pride—his joy and hope to be with Ann for eternity—to the forefront of his mind again.
Reaffirming that it was his turn to carry the mantle for her, he drank his nip.
One, two…three.
But knowing he wasn’t done when he set down the medium cup, the final large cup took its place in his hands without startling him.
Eager to meet Ann from this halfway mark, he went for it.
One, two…three.
Ann had her final three sips, and Ren knew they had met halfway by that point.
And yet, despite all of that, there was more—but now Ren was ecstatic, as he took the paper of vows he signed in that waiting room, just before the ceremony ever kicked off.
As he and Ann marched closer to the altar, their stances ever so slightly elevated by a tiny set of steps upward, he looked to the sacred table, then to the written vow in his hands.
With a further-rejuvenated smile, he turned slightly to Ann. Her summer-sky eyes met his own slate-gray gleam. Her kind, silent encouragement was exactly what Ren was dying to see in the whole ceremony up to this point.
He held the paper up and away from himself. He never needed to clear his throat, and his baritone voice rang proud, true, and primed for the pair’s destiny.
“On this fortunate day,” Ren decreed, “before the Gods, we perform this matrimonial ceremony. We pray for our future to receive and hold the Gods’ divine blessing. We will forever share our joys and sorrows together; we will live a peaceful life together. We vow to have a life full of prosperity and descendants. Please protect us, now and always. We, Ren Amamiya and Ann Takamaki, humbly offer this vow.”
As the world around them only quietly echoed his last words, the hush of the mortal congregation itself seemed to quiet and ease the bridegroom’s soul. Although there was no verbal cheer from their friends and family, or even a tight embrace from his ethereal love, Ren felt the gods’ blessings among them ring truer than ever before.
The miko offered Ren and Ann their own sakaki branches, ornamented with snow-white strips of paper. Once they followed the priest to deliver them to the altar, it really started to feel like the end of one big chapter of their lives, going into another. Alternatively, this was the end of the first book in a series, and that the sequel novel was just being opened to continue their stories.
Either way, when claps and bows were performed, Ann was given her wedding ring: a brilliant diamond—noticeably bigger than that of the engagement ring, but far sparklier—was set primly in sheer gold, and Ann’s eyes twinkled back at it.
But even she had one for Ren, as it turned out, when she lovingly slipped it onto his finger. The lustrous silver band—a glittering engravement of silver lotuses carved into it—felt cool, but comfortable on his finger.
Ren was in love with it—but more so with what it meant. His eyes flicked back up from his hand to Ann’s smile…and that smile, for the dozens of times she looked at him with it, felt so nostalgic.
And why not? Today was the 11th of April, one of the first warmer days of 2019.
But three years ago, on a cold and rainy morning in Aoyama-Itchome, Ren and Ann had first met on the way to Shujin Academy. Their starstruck encounter was straight out of the big theatrical movies of then and now, even if it was succeeded by their picaresque quests to reform corrupt powers, both human and otherwise.
To think all of it would send them down this path sent a spell of shock over Ren…but only for the moment.
Their parents and friends were being poured their own cups of sake, and Ren realized his head was deep in the clouds while everyone was listening to the priest urge the families and friends present to serve the bridal couple and one another, their own promise sealed by a toast and drink (though this time, no pouring needed to be finished in three gulps).
Beckoned by the priest to follow him in the toast, everyone took hold of their respective fills and brought them high up before their faces.
Even if he didn’t look at her right then and there, Ren could visualize Ann’s pearly grin and bright eyes with effortless precision.
Three years ago, that smile started it all.
“Congratulations!” the attendants cheered, Ren trying not to cry as he recognized every voice in that chorus.
He had his last fill of sake that afternoon, feeling more accomplished than ever before.
“Thank you, Ryuji.” Ren squeezed the other man’s hands. “Really, I couldn’t have proposed that night if it weren’t for you.”
As Ryuji’s bashful laugh turned into a damp sob, Ren promised to see him and the rest at the reception. Even in his tears, Ryuji patted his shoulder with an eager nod. He knew that, for now, Ren needed to bask in his wedding afterglow.
Sure enough, the gentle breeze turned Ren’s head in Ann’s direction, and she looked back, as though the gods themselves decreed it.
The two came together, forever magnetic to one another. Ann’s hands took both of Ren’s into her own. She looked up at him—and that smile looked prouder than ever before.
“Thanks for being my light, Ren,” she cooed. “I love you.”
Finally this day, Ren let a tear cascade down his jaw. “I’ll keep at it,” he warmly replied. “You’ve always been my light, and always will be. I love you.”