Chapter 17 – The Yato

Chapter 17 – The Yato

The church bell rang, its melodious chimes filling the air as a tangible sense of joy enveloped the room. The anticipation reached its peak as all eyes turned to me, waiting for my response. My heart beat rapidly in my chest as I looked at Aya, her eyes filled with love and hope.

Taking a deep breath, I spoke the words that would bind us together in matrimony. "Yato Yuuki, do you accept Masuri Aya as your wife?" The weight of the question hung in the air, carrying with it the gravity of a lifetime commitment.

"Yes, I do," I replied, my voice steady and resolute. Every word carried the weight of my decision, a choice to embark on a journey with Aya, to face the unknown hand in hand, and to build a life filled with love, understanding, and unwavering support. As the room filled with warmth and applause, the spotlight shifted to Aya. Her eyes glistened with tears of happiness as she stood before me, radiating beauty and grace. It was now her turn to make her choice, to affirm her commitment to our shared future.

"Masuri Aya, do you accept Yato Yuuki as your husband?" The words hung in the air, the silence pregnant with anticipation. All eyes were fixed on Aya, waiting for her response.

With a voice filled with unwavering conviction, Aya looked into my eyes and spoke the words that would seal our union. "Yes, I do," she said, her voice brimming with love and determination. Her response echoed through the room, a declaration of her unwavering commitment to stand by my side, through thick and thin, for better or for worse. As the final word left Aya's lips, the room erupted in applause and cheers, a jubilant celebration of love and unity. The sound of clapping hands and joyful voices filled the air, reverberating through the sacred space. “You may, now kiss the bride.”

With closed eyes, I savoured the weight of those words that hung in the air. The culmination of our journey had led us to this moment, the moment where we would seal our love with a kiss. The anticipation built, and a gentle smile formed on my lips.

As I opened my eyes, I looked at Aya, her face radiant with happiness and love. Her eyes met mine, and we both understood the significance of the moment. Our hearts beat in sync, and with a surge of emotion, I closed the distance between us. Leaning in, I softly pressed my lips against hers, feeling the warmth and tenderness of the kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a kiss that symbolized the beginning of a lifelong bond, a kiss that sealed our commitment and love for one another.

Disoriented and still groggy from sleep, I struggled to gather my bearings. I glanced around, taking in the familiar sight of my room, the comfort of my bed, and my pillow that clung to my body. Misaki's words echoed in my ears, pulling me back to reality. "Damn, were you dreaming about Aya?" she asked, her tone filled with amusement. I sheepishly sat up, my face flushing with embarrassment. "Wake up, aren't you going to school?" she shouted, her voice laced with impatience.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I mustered a response. "Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up," I mumbled, feeling the weight of reality crashing down upon me. The dream of marrying Aya and the rush of emotions that had accompanied it now felt like distant echoes, fading away into the recesses of my mind.

“Why was I dreaming about that?” As I pushed the covers aside I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of praise. The dream had felt so real, so vivid, that it had momentarily transported me to a world where Aya and I were united in matrimony.

“Why did I agree to marry you.” If I had refused to marry Aya then my mother would kill me. "It was all yesterday," I muttered to myself, contemplating the choices I had made. The idea of being forced into a marriage that lacked love and genuine connection left a bitter taste in my mouth. But Misaki's voice interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.

"It was your choice," Misaki said in an uninterested tone, her words lacking any hint of sympathy or understanding. I sighed, realizing that Misaki's response was typical of her no-nonsense personality. She had always been straightforward and direct, never one to sugarcoat things or offer comforting words. Her practicality was both admirable and frustrating at times. "Get ready for school, Student Council President," she added.

Fine," I replied, a hint of irritation in my voice. "Also, tell my mother—I mean the principal—that the student council will conduct the school assembly." Misaki raised an eyebrow, her expression questioning my choice of words. She knew very well that the principal of our school was also my mother. It was an unusual dynamic, to say the least, and often added an extra layer of pressure to my position as the student council president.

Kurosu High School, renowned as the Yato Academy of Swordsmanship, occupies a distinct place among Japan's 21 martial arts high schools. Its inception can be traced back to the arrival of the British in Japan and the subsequent establishment of the school by their descendants. My own family, originally from England, is among those descendants who played a role in shaping the institution.

With a swift turn, I made my way into the bathroom, eager to freshen up for the day ahead. I swiftly opened my wardrobe, revealing the neatly arranged Kurosu High School uniform. It consisted of a sleek black coat adorned with the symbol of a katana and a rapier, beautifully embellished with delicate cherry blossom patterns. Completing the ensemble were the matching black pants, completing the distinctive attire of our school. With precision, I dressed myself in the uniform, ready to face the challenges that awaited today.