The Takeda and Kusanagi families gathered under one roof that evening a small but elegant mansion that carried the heavy perfume of old money and quiet expectations.
The long dining table stretched like a battlefield line between the two families. Silverware glimmered under the chandelier's soft light. Polite smiles were exchanged, but no one could hide the tension coiling in the air like smoke.
Airi Kusanagi sat with perfect posture, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Her expression was serene, but her knuckles were pale, pressed together tightly enough to show the strain. She didn't look at the man standing beside her Ren Takeda and he didn't bother to look at her either.
They were statues at the corner of the room, caught between two empires pretending to be families.
"Ren, you understand what this marriage means for us," said Mr. Takeda, his voice deep and commanding. "This alliance will restore the trust we've lost with the Kusanagi company."
Ren's jaw tensed. "I understand, Father. I just don't see why I have to be the sacrifice for your business deals."
Across the table, Mrs. Kusanagi's fan clicked shut with a sharp sound. "Sacrifice? How dramatic. My daughter will carry just as much weight as you will, young man. This is not a play it's a promise."
Airi lowered her gaze, hiding the flicker of emotion in her eyes. Promise, she thought bitterly. More like a cage wrapped in lace.
The servants began setting the table dishes of traditional food, the kind served at celebration dinners. The scent of grilled fish and miso filled the air, but no one had the appetite.
Mr. Kusanagi raised a glass of wine. "To the union of two great families. May our children bring peace where business could not."
Ren gave a dry laugh under his breath, barely audible. Airi heard it anyway. She turned slightly toward him and whispered, "Try to smile. You're ruining their perfect picture."
He smirked. "And you? You're smiling too perfectly. It's suspicious."
Their quiet exchange went unnoticed by the parents, who were busy discussing dowries, estates, and company shares as though love could be traded like stocks.
After dinner, the two families moved to the parlor, where an ornate wedding kimono rested in a glass case pure white silk embroidered with gold cranes. It had belonged to Airi's grandmother, and tonight it was being "offered" as a sign of commitment.
Mrs. Kusanagi placed a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You'll look beautiful in it, Airi. A true Kusanagi bride."
Ren's mother stepped closer, her tone proud but firm. "And as for you, Ren you will honor our name. The Takedas don't abandon their responsibilities."
The two young people exchanged glances for the first time that night. There was no affection there, no warmth only the silent agreement of two prisoners planning how to endure the same sentence.
Later, when everyone had toasted enough to dull the edges of the room, Airi and Ren slipped away to the balcony. The night breeze was cool, the city lights reflecting off the mansion's garden pond.
"So," Airi said softly, resting her hands on the railing. "Let's make an agreement."
Ren looked at her with a hint of curiosity. "An agreement?"
She nodded. "We pretend. For them. For the cameras. For the families. We play the perfect marriage until it's no longer useful. Then, when it falls apart… we both walk away clean."
He stared at her for a long moment, then chuckled low, bitter, and amused. "You're colder than I expected."
"Just realistic," she replied. "Besides, you hate me already, don't you?"
He gave a small shrug. "Not yet. But we'll see after the wedding."
They stood there, side by side, the future stretching ahead like an unlit path. Behind them, laughter echoed from the dining room the laughter of parents who thought they had won.
Neither Airi nor Ren smiled this time.
They simply gazed into the night, bound by duty, tied by silence, and sealed into a marriage that was never meant to be love… but just might become something far more dangerous.