Prompt: Imagine your OTP at the altar of a church, about to get married. Just as they're about to kiss, Person A wakes up in bed, sobbing and staring at the empty space beside them. In reality, Person B died years ago. (also, posted for promptember.)
Summary: For a long time, she's dreamt of this.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Yuto/Yuzu, Masumi
Rating: G
Warning(s): Mentions of canon-ish character death.
Words: 1190
A/N: i nearly decided to give it a happy ending. nearly.
(kind of sort of dedicated to yam for reblogging this blasted prompt in the first place, and kita, for being the best partner in braceletshipping hell i could ask for :'))
For a long time, she's dreamt of this.
Long skirts billow around her, a veil draped over her shoulders and sparkling make-up delicately adorning her features. Her nails glimmer against the sheer white of her gown - "Like gemstones," Masumi boasts - as several other women flit around her, adding the finishing touches, brushing out bunches in fabric where there should be none. Pink strands softly curl around her face as though meaning to frame it, the rest of her hair pulled back, away from her face, away from where it might blow into her eyes or grow attached to her glossed lips.
"You look like a Duel Monster," Selena says, simply, her arms crossed below her breasts and green gaze unwavering. Although Yuzu understands what she means entirely, Masumi shoots Selena a Look that leads her to add, hastily, "A pretty one. Like Bloom Diva." The assurance is hardly necessary, though it makes Yuzu smile all the same. Masumi reaches forward, brushing what must of been a stray strand of hair away from her face before setting her hand upon Yuzu's shoulder, her gaze scrutinizing as she studies her childhood rival's face for anything else that may be considered a flaw.
"You better not be too anxious out there," Masumi states curtly, one fine brow arched as her hand grips Yuzu's shoulder in such a way that Yuzu knows to be assuring. "I won't stand for my rival not enjoying her own wedding." Selena stands to the side, her brow furrowed as she watches, but Yuzu's known Masumi long enough now to know that she means to encourage her. Gently, she reaches up, giving Masumi's own hand a squeeze and allowing a warm smile to tug at her lips.
"I'll do my best."
Yuya's head pops into the room then, telling the three of them and the numerous attendants still darting about the room that there were ten minutes until the ceremony would be starting, and "by the way Yuzu you look awesome," before disappearing just as quickly as he had came. Immediately the attendants are flitting specifically around Yuzu again, leading Masumi to step back as the bouquet is brought to her and placed slightly unceremoniously in her hands, Yuzu allowing the attendants to treat her as some sort of puppet as they wrap her fingers around the stem. Fondly, she looks down to the flowers, an assortment of small roses, lilies, lisianthus and sweet peas staring back up at her. And then she's being bustled into the next room alongside Masumi and the rest of her bridal party, her arm looping around her teary-eyed father's, and they step out into the gardens.
For a long time, she's dreamt of this.
No matter how small the wedding may be, it still feels as though thousands of people turn to stare as she and her father come into the ceremony, but, ah, Yuzu is an Entertainment Duelist and relatively successful musician, so it's not like crowds are anything that may make her uncomfortable. Still, seeing Yuya beaming at her from his place at the altar soothes her, and any nerves she may have felt transform into sparks of excitement as she meets the gaze of the man standing beside him.
She tries to focus on the important things - not stepping on the ends of her dress, for example - though as Yuto's widened eyes soften into a warm gaze, it's hard to focus on little else as the reality of the fact that she'll be spending the rest of her life with this man hits her. She clenches the bouquet, wonders if the reason behind the flowers is truthfully so the bride has something to hold onto as she's brought up to stand across from the man she loves, aware of little else besides her husband-to-be and the muffled sniffling of her father as he drops her arm to join Masumi and the rest of her bridal party.
Yuto's hand grasps her own, and the priest clears his throat.
As the ceremony proceeds, she studies those same hands, distractedly recalling the first time his hands had come into contact with her skin, in a warehouse as she insisted on fighting for her own friend's honour, no matter how baffled she was by the masked boy who suddenly insisted on protecting her. She remembers her shock as the mask was pulled away, remembers her turmoil as she was faced with the same face of that same beloved friend, remembers her inner conflict as she struggled to grasp the workings of everything around her. "I do," Yuto says, clearly, and her gaze flicks up to meet his own, her heart warming as she studies the look of determination weighing heavily on his features, a smile spreading across her face as that same look softens when his gaze meets her own.
"Yuzu Hiragi," the priest says then, and her gaze is temporarily brought away from Yuto's as she looks to the man speaking to her. "Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him and keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both live?"
She nods, just as certain as Yuto as she looks back to him, her smile warm and accepting as she says, just as clearly, "I do."
The ceremony carries on.
For a long time, she's dreamt of this.
As the same rehearsed lines roll off their tongues, she studies Yuto's face, remembering once more how much it reminded her of Yuya's. But now, after so long, it's far easier to take note of the differences, no matter how small. Yuto has stress lines where Yuya does not, Yuto's eyes are a steely grey whereas Yuya's are a stunning crimson, the list goes on. She remembers her initial confusion and frustration regarding their similar appearances, remembers fretting over things such as "If I find Yuto attractive, perhaps I think Yuya is too". But those concerns are long gone, eased over as she established her feelings and relationships - platonic or no - with the both of them. Looking to Yuto's lips, she is no longer haunted by concerns over whether she wants to kiss Yuya also. Those worries are long gone.
She finds little worrying her now as the priest grants them permission to kiss, her arms winding themselves around Yuto's neck as his own hands come to rest gently against her waist. The man before her is strong, determined, and her feelings of confusion have long since shifted into feelings of warmth. So long after everything, there seems to be so little to fear, especially with the knowledge of Yuto being by her side. She leans in, comforted by his warm breath fanning across her face as they grow closer and closer.
For a long time, she's dreamt of this.
For a long time, she's dreamt of this.
For a long time, she's -
Her bed is cold, the room chillingly empty as Yuya's words repeat themselves, over and over.
"Yuto, he... He was protecting me, and..."
- dreamt of this.