The span of two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. At a historic shrine in Tokyo, the grand wedding of Chairman Nagao of the Akatsuki Trading Company and the Kanroji family's young lady Mitsuri was magnificently held.
Amidst the peak of spring, with fully bloomed cherry blossom petals scattering like snow, the shrine grounds were filled with a solemn yet splendid atmosphere.
"Ahh..."
In the bride's waiting room, Mitsuri, having finished dressing with the help of Kanae and Shinobu, was speechless at her own reflection in the mirror.
Her appearance, wearing a pure white shiromuku from head to toe, was dazzlingly beautiful. The pure white kimono bearing the meaning 'I will be dyed in your color' created a strange sense of mystery contrasting with her trademark cherry blossom hair.
"You're truly beautiful, Miss Mitsuri."
Kanae uttered a sincere exclamation while carefully placing the white hood-like wataboushi worn by the bride.
"Thank you, Miss Kanae, Miss Shinobu. I... I'm so nervous my heart feels like it will burst."
Mitsuri's hand holding the fan trembled slightly. Shinobu hid her complicated feelings and pretended to smile brightly, holding Mitsuri's hand.
"It's alright. Today's protagonist is you, Miss Mitsuri. Go confidently."
"Yes! Today is, my wedding day."
Soon after, a solemn procession began, guided by the shrine's priests and shrine maidens.
Amidst the elegant melody of gagaku (Japanese traditional court music), Mitsuri carefully moved her steps.
And at the end of that path, her groom was waiting. Y1pKRDY3WUhYeXVKQmZZeTNSUXY4S2FvaFlKNy9RRmlIVVJSK2JLZDhNaDF3VGJyTXZiZ2NscDNaWkQvYVhQOA
Akira was perfectly dressed in a black montsuki haori hakama engraved with the Nagao family crest.
His appearance, different from his usual Western suit yet classical and dignified, drew exclamations of admiration from among the guests.
An oni dressed in black wedding attire, and a human girl dressed in pure white wedding attire.
The contrast of black and white seemed to hint at the essence of this marriage.
Amidst the solemn atmosphere, a Shinto wedding ceremony (before the gods) proceeded.
The two shared the ceremonial cups of sansankudo (the three-three-nine exchange of nuptial cups) before the main hall.
With an expressionless face yet extremely polite movements, Akira handed the sake cup to Mitsuri.
'With this, one deal is sealed.'
Akira's red pupils flashed strangely for a moment. Mitsuri took the cup with trembling hands and brought it to her lips.
Whether from the alcohol or overwhelming emotion, her cheeks flushed red.
After the ceremony, a grand banquet continued at the reception hall created in the Kanroji family garden. As if flaunting the Akatsuki Trading Company's wealth, hundreds of guests gathered including various magnates doing business with them and the Kanroji family's relatives.
Mitsuri, having changed from her shiromuku into a colorful iro-uchikake (banquet kimono), received guests' congratulations beside Akira with a happy smile.
"Chairman Nagao, you've welcomed such a beautiful bride! Envious, truly envious!"
"The Kanroji family's young lady, truly befitting the Akatsuki Trading Company."
Amidst pouring praise and blessings, Mitsuri felt as if dreaming.
The strange, creepy gazes that followed her all her life were nowhere to be found, and everyone looked at her with eyes of envy and blessing.
"Are you tired, Mitsuri?"
Akira whispered affectionately near her ear. Now speaking casually without honorifics, using only her name.
"Ah, no, d, d-d-darling. A bit dizzy but... probably because I'm so happy."
Mitsuri answered shyly while tightly holding Akira's arm. Akira gently patted the back of her hand, continuing his perfect performance as a new groom.
From a corner of that splendid banquet, the Kocho sisters quietly watched the scene.
"...She looks really happy."
Shinobu murmured while fiddling with her cup.
"Indeed. Like a princess from a fairy tale."
Kanae smiled bitterly. Knowing how precarious that happiness was built upon fragile lies, their hearts were uneasy.
That innocent bride didn't dream she was walking into an oni's den of her own accord.
As time passed, the long, splendid banquet lasting several hours ended. Japanese weddings, having up to three parties, were very long and tiring.
Due to the pouring blessing showers and continuous greetings, Mitsuri's stamina was hitting rock bottom.
Though she possessed monstrous strength, unfamiliar formal attire and tension were enough to exhaust her.
The black Ford Model T cut through the darkness and passed through the Akatsuki mansion's heavy iron gate.
Only the sound of tires on gravel broke the night's tranquil silence.
Before the entrance, servants who had been contacted beforehand - Tsubaki, Ubume, and Mukago - waited.
"Welcome back, Master. And... Madam."
The senior-most Ubume bowed politely as representative. At the unfamiliar address 'Madam,' Mitsuri's shoulders flinched.
"Ah, yes... W, welcome back?"
Mitsuri shyly lightly grabbed the hem of Akira's clothes.
"Let's go in. It was a long day. You must be very tired."
Akira gently escorted Mitsuri.
In contrast to the daytime commotion, the mansion at night was quiet to a heavy degree.
The gas lamp lights lit in the corridor cast long shadows, creating a strange tension.
The two were guided to the couple's bedroom located at the mansion's innermost part.
A spacious room with premium tatami mats. The folding screen had a splendid landscape painting decorated with gold leaf, and in the room's center, silk futons for two were laid side by side.
A space isolated from the world, with only faint lamplight illuminating the two.
As the attendants withdrew and the heavy sliding door closed, only the two remained in the room. A suffocating silence flowed.
"..."
Mitsuri was so nervous she sweated in her palms. Her heartbeat seemed audible beside her ears. She sat properly on her knees, unable to raise her head.
"Now, Mitsuri. Please look up. I want to talk while seeing your face."
At his words, Mitsuri quietly raised her head. Soon looking directly at Akira's face.
"Ah..."
Mitsuri hung her head even lower as if embarrassed. Afraid her hair color might ruin this night's atmosphere.
"Still beautiful. That hair color of yours brings admiration every time I see it. Under the moonlight, it's even more mystical."
Akira took a handful of her hair and softly kissed it. As if hot warmth spread from where his lips touched.
"Um, well... Akira-san."
Mitsuri gathered courage to speak. Her voice trembled slightly.
"I, though lacking much... I'll really do well from now on. Though full of mistakes, eats lots, only strong and foolish... I'll try to become a good wife worthy of you."
She raised her head and looked into Akira's eyes. That gaze was filled with determination.
"And... I'll definitely protect you. All I have is this strength. No matter what happens, I'll protect at least you, Akira-san."
She reaffirmed her oath once more. With this extraordinary strength, this cursed monstrous strength that others pointed at calling her a monster, she would protect this kind man who loved her.
At her innocent oath, Akira let out a short chuckle.
Not mockery. It was laughter mixed with interest and amusement, as if watching a cute puppy bark before a lion saying it would protect it.
"Protect me. Thank you, Mitsuri. I'll gladly accept that sentiment."
Akira slowly lowered himself to meet her eye level. His shadow completely covered her.
"But... there's no need for that."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
Instantly, the room's air turned chilly. A beast-like aura different from the kind groom seen during daytime flowed from Akira.
"Do you think that strength of yours... is monstrous because it's different from others? That you must use that strength for someone as if atoning?"
At Akira's question hitting the mark, Mitsuri's pupils shook. Because it touched her most painful place, her deepest complex.
"Th, that's... because everyone says so. That women being strong is creepy. Like bears or wild boars."
Moisture gathered in Mitsuri's voice.
"No. You're wrong."
Akira's large hand covered Mitsuri's slender shoulder. And applied just a little strength.
Creak.
"Eek?!"
Mitsuri's eyes widened. She barely swallowed back a scream.
More than painful, it was overwhelming. Because the grip strength of Akira holding her shoulder was unimaginably strong.
A solid, absolute strength not falling behind her own monstrous strength - no, perhaps even surpassing it.
A grip strength no ordinary human man, nor even most strongmen, could possibly exert.
"Ah, Akira-san?"
Mitsuri looked up at him in confusion. Akira's blackish-brown pupils seemed to flash strangely under the moonlight.
"Your strength isn't something monstrous, Mitsuri. It's special. A talent bestowed by the gods."
Akira released the strength from his gripping hand. Mitsuri, holding her tingling shoulder, looked at her husband with confused eyes.
"And I too... like you, am an existence possessing strength beyond human understanding, beyond category."
"Akira-san is like me too?"
"Yes. We're alike."
Akira slowly took a step back. The moment pale moonlight seeping into the room illuminated him, an unbelievable scene unfolded.
"... Ah?!"
Mitsuri gasped.
Akira's neat black hair turned pure white from the roots in an instant.
His skin, which had color, turned pale to reveal its original white, and from his right forehead, one sharp, small horn sprouted.
The most dramatic change was his eyes. The blackish-brown pupils pretending to be human disappeared, and the whites turned black as pitch.
Within that darkness, crimson pupils burning blood-red emitted a sinister light.
An existence far beyond human category, beautiful yet fearful.
It was the very appearance of an oni only heard of in legends.
"This is my true form."
The white-haired oni dressed in black formal wear smiled with an exceedingly gentle and beautiful expression, extending a hand to the frozen new bride.
"Sorry for surprising you. But I didn't want to hide from you. Because I wanted you not to be ashamed of your own strength."
His voice remained kind, but the aura contained within seemed to press down on the entire mansion.
"I am an oni. The master of this Akatsuki, and now your husband."
Mitsuri blankly stared at the pale hand he extended.
The man who saved her, who was pointed at as a monster, was a real monster. But strangely, rather than fear, immense relief and kinship filled her chest.
'I wasn't... the only strange one.'
The hand Akira extended was an invitation to their world.
"Welcome to this world, my bride."
The oni king smiled. That smile was fatally captivating. As if enchanted, Mitsuri raised her trembling hand and clasped that pale, beautiful hand.
On this pitch-black night, in the oni's mansion, the moment the curtain rose on the two's strange married life.