XXXXX Xst, 20XX

The ringing of the bells echoed in his ears, as the same stereotypical march that he'd heard a hundred times before in a hundred different romantic comedies began to drone right after.

He was dressed up again. Not in any of his old, favored pinstriped numbers from his days as 'Yamikumo'.

Nor was it any of his more comfortable 'light business' fits from his transition period back into civilian life.

Oh no, no, no, the star of the day had specifically forbidden him from wearing anything but his newly tailored best.

The man from Le Marche knew what he was doing, the tux he made was the stuff of legends.

Comfortable and stylish, keeping up with decorum, but still allowing him freedom of movement around his arms and legs.

He didn't have any plans on brawling that day, but he was happy to have clothes that allowed that option to exist.

Yamamoto stood behind him, his best man, he couldn't think of anyone better to have at his back that day.

In the pews, there was his family.

Katsuya, ever the proper aniki, sat towards the front offering his support with a gentle smile. The old man looked great in his tux.

Watase was right next to him, grinning wide enough to split his face. Leave it to him to break the dress code and just come in his usual white suit, at least he had a bowtie.

Yamada looked like he was ten seconds away from jumping up, whooping and hollering all the while (which would've been hilarious, if wholly inappropriate). Well, as long as he didn't slip up again with talk of 'Yamikumo', he'd allow it.

Kasuga didn't seem much better, he looked pretty dapper though. That long hair of his that he was growing while they were still locked up was tied back into a neat ponytail, making him somewhat like the 40 plus year-old-man. The tears welling up in his eyes somewhat offset his mature vibe, though.

Last up was Maki, his aniki's beautiful wife, sitting towards the back with his adorable little goddaughter. The little lass didn't seem to understand much of what was going on, but she seemed to be having a good time with her mother, regardless. He was happy they were there, well, and truly happy.

And he was even happier when the lady of the hour finally stepped up to the aisle.

He hadn't seen her in the week leading up to the big day, so maybe it was just the feeling of longing messing with him, but in that moment, as Nemuri stepped up towards the altar, bouquet in hand, he could've sworn that she was glowing.

She had him mesmerized, captivated, starstruck, from the moment she stepped into the room, all up until she stood right in front of him.

He lifted her veil, and he could feel his face heat.

He forced it down, he was not going to get flustered on his wedding day!

He thought he hid it well, but the grin on the pointedly not blushing bride said otherwise.

The ceremony began, he tuned out most of what the priest said.

When it came to vows, he could barely remember what he said, aside from the 'I love you' near the end.

But then came the words he was waiting for,

"You may now kiss the bride."

Just what he was waiting for.

He leaned in, she moved in to meet him halfway, and then-

Chu!

Mikumo's eyes fluttered open as he felt a small, fluttery peck on his cheek.

He looked over to see his bespectacled, t-shirt and panty-clad girlfriend looking over at him with a coquettish smile.

They were sitting on the couch, it was their day off and he seemed to have drifted while they were watching(read: making fun off) old rom-coms.

"Gee, if I'd known how much you hated these things, I'd've suggested Yakuza Sunset, instead."

Now, if he wasn't incredibly drowsy, he would've responded with a witty retort.

Unfortunately, he was incredibly drowsy, so what he did say was incredibly simple, but effective.

"You wanna get married?"

The embarrassed sputtering that followed mere moments after was a victory in and of itself.

Mikumo Akatani deserved better.