1. The Betrothal Arrangement

"I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is." --Alan Watts

Yuki may have only been twelve, but even she knew she was too young to be married off. Politics, schmoliticks, if you asked her; she made that pretty clear every time she had a tea party or heard her parents even breathe a word about it. "I don't even want babies," she protested to her elder brother when their parents were out of the room, out of earshot. Yuri passed the brush through her hair, short and soft golden blonde, decorating it with a white and orange bow. "I can't even have babies." And Yuri smiled, hugging her loosely from behind and sighing.

"Believe me, I don't want this any more than you do," he said, his voice soft in the large room. Too soft to echo, too soft to be heard by all of the ears in the walls. "To see my baby sister wedded off… breaks my heart."

Which only incensed Yuki further. Her brother meant the world to her, especially when he returned home from the country he traveled to in order to be married himself. The woman he had married had been a precious flower, but fragile as one too. Yuri, in all of his selfless ways, went to her instead of forcing her to travel such a distance. His sad smiles wounded Yuki's poor heart, and she vowed childishly that she would find him a suitable spouse in the future. Somewhere close to home… so she could see him still. It was the least she could do to help him… right?

Then came the offer of an arranged marriage, readily accepted by her parents. If Yuri could not keep healthy ties to other countries -- through no fault of his own, mind you -- then perhaps Yuki could. She was twelve! A child! Children break friendships and run through them like the seasons… but they would not take no for an answer.

When the engagement day came, she had Yuri decorate her hair but he could not dress her. How bothersome, she thought as the maids dashed around her short stature, complimenting her on the way she wore yellow and orange and white, how it matched her hair and her sunset eyes. Frankly she was happy when Yuri put the bow in her hair, and she could turn to him and take in his features and be happy such a handsome man was her brother. Maybe, if she was lucky, there would be beautiful ladies that could woo him at the Engagement Day ball.

Yuki may have been twelve, but she knew false hope better than anyone.

It didn't stop her from holding Yuri's hand as they entered, orange and yellow pressed warm to red and white. Yuki was small for her age, or maybe Yuri was, but she was only half of her brother's height -- but the need to see her forced everyone in attendance to also see Yuri. With a wide smile, Yuki pulled him into the grand ballroom, decorated with the colors of the suitor she was meant to be wedded to. Blue and silver, and people dressed to match the flag they fell under.

"He'd be at the center somewhere, right?" Yuki asked this out of the corner of her mouth, a common way she and Yuri had always spoken at these events. They had done this ever since she was six and he was sixteen, the first time he escorted her to an event where he had to be shown off to the ladies. "You were at the center, right?"

"Mmhm." Yuri's answer was distracted as he swept red eyes across the filled room. He was probably looking for a familiar face, Yuki thought, tightening her gloved hand in his. He hadn't been out to socialize since coming home, and this was the first time he wasn't in mourning black. He couldn't be of course, it was her day… as much as she hated the idea.

"Maybe we can go and eat first?" she offered, immediately pivoting on her foot to head toward the array of food and drink. That turned out to be a bad idea of course, though she hadn't thought so in the immediate moment. When her hand slipped from Yuri's grip, she gathered up her dress and assumed that Yuri was tall enough to follow her easily. However, when she turned around with two small cakes in her hands, craning her head upward with a smile, she was met with a very differently dressed fellow.

Dark blue fell across his chest, almost swallowed by the shadowed black fabric that it was meant to accent. Piled up high on his head was hair described by Yuki later as "zebra-striped" and "too long for a guy- man- you know!" He tilted his head as her smile froze on her face, his dark eyes taking in her brightly colored form.

"Are you the lady of the party?" he asked, his voice surprisingly light and musical. Yuki blinked, stunned. Who knew that someone who sounded like that could dress in such dark clothing and actually look the part of tall, brooding, and handsome?

"Mmmhmm." Yuki tore her gaze away from the man, looking for a flash of red and white, the pale blonde crown of her brother's hair, the red ornaments that held precariously atop his head as a crown made simple for a Prince. "Sorry, I'm still not good with the visitor names. Or people…" She laughed sheepishly, knowing she could get away with the blunder by virtue of her age. "You are…."

She didn't expect him to reach for her hand, grip her wrist, and kneel down to her height. "Mirai," he introduced with a smile, closing his eyes to kiss her wrist. "Your betrothed."