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Fuyuki City's Church.
The normally solemn sanctuary was filled with an—unusual atmosphere.
The wedding guests, seated in the pews, whispered among themselves, their gazes fixed on Tokiomi Tohsaka.
"What's going on? Is the bride—having second thoughts?"
"It seems pretty obvious—She's running away."
Tokiomi, his face pale, listened to their whispers.
He looked at Aoi, now in the arms of another man, and took a deep breath, forcing a smile—his usual, elegant smile.
He fought the urge to summon his Mystic Code and Incinerate the two of them on the spot. He had to maintain his composure, his dignified facade, before his guests.
"Always composed. Always elegant." He repeated the Tohsaka family motto in his mind, a mantra to quell his rising anger.
"The—joke's gone on long enough. First of all, welcome to my wedding, Kariya," he said, addressing Haru, whom he mistook for Kariya Matou.
"Oh, it was a joke?"
"Quite the surprise…"
"Heh, the Tohsaka head is certainly—spirited…"
The guests, sensing Tokiomi's attempt to downplay the situation, played along, their laughter a mix of genuine amusement and polite—discomfort.
Those invited to the wedding were either business partners or close acquaintances. They were happy to help Tokiomi save face.
Tokiomi's eyes flicked towards the first row, where Aoi's parents sat. They caught his gaze and turned to their daughter.
Aoi's father, his face stern, his eyes sharp despite their age, spoke. "Aoi. Enough of this—nonsense. Come back here."
"Father…" Aoi's voice was soft, her eyes filled with a mix of defiance and regret as she looked at her father.
Raised in the strict, traditional Zenjou family, Aoi had been taught from a young age to be the epitome of a Yamato Nadeshiko—Obedient, Demure, and Subservient.
Any deviation from this ideal was unacceptable.
Giving the wedding invitation to Kariya Matou, with its implied message, had been the most rebellious act of her life.
And now, with Haru's—unexpected intervention, perhaps emboldened by his response to her unspoken plea, or perhaps driven by years of suppressed desires, she had openly defied her father for the first time.
"I've lived my life according to your wishes, Father. My studies, my relationships—everything. Please—allow me this one act of defiance." She lowered her head, her voice trembling.
Aoi, her white dress trailing behind her, Haru's hand clasped in hers, walked out of the church without looking back.
Tokiomi's composure finally cracked, his face darkening as he clutched a jeweled staff that had materialized in his hand.
He wanted nothing more than to unleash his fury, to 'obliterate' them both.
But he couldn't. The church was filled with ordinary people, and as a traditional mage, he couldn't reveal the world of magic to them.
He couldn't use his powers unless he was prepared to kill everyone present. And these were his business partners, influential figures in Fuyuki City. Killing them would have disastrous consequences.
So, he could only watch as Aoi—'eloped'.
The wedding was ruined. After the last guest departed, Tokiomi stood at the church entrance, his face impassive, his gaze fixed on the distant sky.
"Regarding our agreement with the Zenjou family—and the matter of—protection—I'm afraid I must withdraw my offer."
He turned and walked away, unable to bear the thought of losing Aoi. It wasn't love he felt for her, but a cold, calculating need. She was an ideal vessel, a perfect candidate to bear his children.
And he would get her back. Such—high-quality vessels were rare. He would retrieve her, even if it meant—preserving her in formaldehyde.
Aoi's father sat in the empty church, his face ashen. Tokiomi's words meant his plans were in ruins. Not only had he lost the financial benefits of the alliance with the Tohsaka, but also the protection they'd promised.
The Zenjou, descended from mages generations ago, still carried traces of magical blood, but they were now ordinary people, lacking the power to protect themselves.
He'd hoped to secure his family's safety by marrying Aoi into a powerful Mage family, but now—everything was lost.
He turned to his wife, his voice filled with rage. "Look at the daughter you raised! She's defying us! She rejected the Tohsaka, then the Matou, and now she's run off with some—silver-haired brat!"
...
In the black hole, Azazel wiped the sweat from his brow. Creating an illusion-based Artificial Sacred Gear in three hours was a challenge, even for him. Thankfully, it only needed to affect two people.
...
"Taxi!" Aoi called out, waving her hand on the side of the road.
A green and yellow cab pulled up.
Aoi, Haru's hand clasped in hers, got into the cab.
"Anywhere—Just get me out of this city," she said, her voice urgent.
"Running away from your wedding, eh? Hop in! Leave it to me!" The driver, seeing Aoi's wedding dress, grinned, understanding the situation instantly. He hit the gas.
"The Kobe Grand Hotel. I have a room booked there," Haru said, his voice calm.
"Eh…?" Aoi looked at Haru, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, then, as if making a decision, she squeezed his hand, leaning her head against his shoulder.
The taxi turned, heading towards Kobe.
...
In the luxurious suite of the Kobe Grand Hotel, Aoi, still in her wedding dress, sat gracefully on the bed. Her impeccable upbringing ensured she maintained a perfect, elegant posture, despite the slight tremble in her legs. She looked like a vision of youthful innocence.
When Haru had suggested the Kobe Grand Hotel, she'd understood his intentions. She looked at him, her dark eyes filled with a mixture of shyness and anticipation.
"Make love to me…" she whispered.
Haru chuckled nervously. "I'm afraid you've got the wrong guy, Aoi-san." He had to clarify. If he didn't, things could get—'complicated' once the spell wore off.
Aoi's face fell. She glared at him. She'd gathered all her courage to say those words.
"Um..."
Aoi's glare intensified. She stretched out her legs, her hands slowly pulling down her stockings, her gaze fixed on Haru's blushing face, a playful smirk twisting her lips.
"...."
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