After arranging everything at work, Takuya filed for his marriage leave, officially entering the countdown to the wedding.
September seventeenth, an auspicious day.
The ancient shrine Miyuki Nakayama personally selected—nestled deep within the lush greenery at the heart of Tokyo—was anything but quiet today.
Outside, rows of sleek black luxury cars silently announced the identities of the guests.
SEGA's executives and board members, Sunrise's President Itō, Bandai's Mitsui Chūta, major distributors and suppliers, presidents and senior leaders from game development studios—even Nintendo's Shigeru Miyamoto had come in person to offer his congratulations.
On the other side, the guests invited by the Nakagawa family were equally impressive.
Tokyo TV's executives, representatives from other major stations, and the advertising titan Dentsu and its associated giants—together representing half of Japan's media power.
More than a hundred guests, every one of them a giant in their field.
And they had all come for one purpose—to witness the golden boy of SEGA's Nakayama family and the cherished daughter of Tokyo Television become husband and wife.
Inside the preparation room, Takuya tugged at the heavy, intricate montsuki haori he was wearing. It felt more suffocating than facing a full boardroom interrogation.
"Takuya, stand straight."
His mother, Miyuki Nakayama, spoke from behind him. Dressed in an elegant tomesode, her expression was solemn, though her eyes betrayed her joy.
"Today, you stand for the face of our Nakayama family."
"Yes, Mother." Takuya adjusted himself helplessly.
This was no longer merely the union of two young people—it was a silent, massive announcement spanning both the gaming and media industries.
At that moment, Nakayama Hayao entered. His gaze paused briefly in Miyamoto's direction before his usual authority returned.
Even the greatest business rival today was a guest to be honored.
He placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder. He did not speak, but the pride in his eyes was heavier than any words.
As the priest's distant chant echoed, the ceremony began.
When Eri—clad in immaculate white shiromuku and wearing the traditional tsunokakushi—stepped into the shrine accompanied by her mother, the bustle of the world seemed to fall away.
Takuya couldn't take his eyes off her.
From their first meeting in a Ginza restaurant, to their moment beneath the Sumida River fireworks, to today—the girl who would soon take his surname walked step by step into his life.
Suddenly, all his mother's meticulous arrangements felt worth it.
At 10:40, with the deep ring of the shrine bell, the wedding formally commenced.
After the traditional purification rites, the priest recited the solemn blessing. The ethereal voice echoed through the shrine, informing the gods of this grand union and praying for divine favor.
Kneeling on the tatami, Takuya listened as the ancient chant seemed to transcend time itself. From the corner of his eye, he saw Eri—her face mostly hidden beneath the tsunokakushi, leaving only the elegant curve of her jaw exposed.
Serious, serene, beautiful.
He almost laughed. He could debate against a dozen board members, predict thirty years of industry trends—yet in this ancient ceremony, he was reduced to a puppet following prescribed steps.
This was more complicated than any final boss battle.
The auspicious moment arrived. The san-san-kudo began.
The shrine maiden poured sacred sake into three cups—small, medium, and large.
Takuya took the small one first, sipped, then passed it to Eri.
She sipped as well.
When they moved to the medium cup, Takuya noticed a faint tremble in Eri's hand.
Without drawing attention, he subtly supported the bottom of the cup with his fingertip as he passed it to her.
Eri looked up at him through the veil—her eyes briefly warming with gratitude.
Three exchanges. A pledge lasting a lifetime.
Next came the vows.
Holding the vow sheet, Takuya's gaze drifted from the solemn paper to Eri.
"I, Nakayama Takuya, take Nakagawa Eri as my wife. For the rest of our lives—whether in prosperity or hardship, wealth or poverty—we shall share all joys and sorrows, and never part."
His voice was not loud, but it carried clearly to every corner of the shrine.
Eri bowed lightly, her voice soft but unwavering.
"From today onward, I shall take the name Nakayama Eri."
The moment the name Nakayama Eri was spoken, Miyuki Nakayama's eyes welled with tears of pride. Even the stern Nakayama Hayao softened.
On the other side, Nakagawa Jun sucked in a quiet breath—his gaze a mix of blessings and the bittersweet sorrow of a father giving away his daughter.
All the guests rose to witness the moment.
After the tamagushi offering and the family sake-sharing ritual, atmosphere reached its peak.
When the shrine maiden presented the sacred sake to Nakayama Hayao and Nakagawa Jun simultaneously, the hall fell silent.
SEGA's emperor and Tokyo TV's leader exchanged a long look—and drank.
This single cup was heavier than any business contract.
It marked the birth of a vast alliance bridging gaming and media.
Shigeru Miyamoto, sitting among the guests, paused mid-sip of his tea—his expression subtly darkening with unspoken weight.
With the final shrine maiden dance, the ceremony concluded.
The guests moved to the banquet hall.
When the ceremony host's voice faded and the lights dimmed, two spotlights illuminated the massive oak doors.
They opened slowly.
Takuya and Eri—now wearing her first change of attire, a brilliantly embroidered red-and-gold iro-uchikake—stood hand in hand in the light.
The auspicious cranes and flowers on her gown made her look like something out of a painting.
They walked down the petal-strewn aisle as the guests rose and applauded—many of them titans of industry rarely seen outside financial news.
At the main table, both fathers wore proud smiles. The two mothers were already brimming with emotion.
Then came the kagami-biraki.
A giant sake barrel was rolled onto the stage. Each of them took a small wooden mallet.
Crack!
The lid broke open, and the scent of fresh sake spread through the hall.
While guests enjoyed the celebratory sake, it was time for the couple's first speech.
Takuya took the microphone. Instead of reading the prepared script, he glanced around the room before settling his gaze on Eri.
"Thank you all for joining us today. Before meeting Eri, I thought my greatest achievement was making games that brought joy to millions. But now I know—my greatest fortune is that she agreed to be my wife."
He paused, then added with a hint of his usual humor:
"Of course, none of this would have happened without my mother's brilliant planning and strict supervision. Honestly, fulfilling her wedding preparation orders felt harder than clearing any game on the highest difficulty. But looking at the final reward… I'd say the loot was well worth it."
Laughter rippled through the hall—even Nakayama Hayao cracked a smile.
Eri flushed, lightly hitting his arm, though her eyes shone with sweetness.
The parents' speeches followed.
Hayao's stern face softened with joy. "Eri, from today on, you are family. Takuya—take good care of her."
Nakagawa Jun, a media titan, became just a father.
"My most precious treasure… I entrust her to you. Please give her a lifetime of happiness."
When Eri read her heartfelt letter of gratitude to her parents, the banquet hall fell silent. Tears flowed freely from both mothers—and even Jun repeatedly wiped his eyes behind his glasses.
Takuya stood beside her quietly, a steadying presence.
After offering flowers and tea to their parents, Eri went for her final outfit change.
She returned in a deep-colored kimono symbolizing her farewell to maidenhood. The banquet neared its end.
When everything finally quieted and the night wrapped Tokyo in neon glow, the black Rolls-Royce carried the newlyweds toward the Nakayama estate.
In the peaceful silence of the car, Eri leaned on Takuya's shoulder, exhausted.
"I feel… like I just fought a war," she murmured.
Takuya tugged at his suffocating outfit. "Tell me about it. But once we're home, just one last ritual—then it's the bridal chamber."
Eri's cheeks flushed as she hid her face in his chest.
At the estate, both Hayao and Miyuki waited solemnly at the entrance.
The warmth inside the car evaporated instantly; both of them straightened in an instant.
A brass fire basin blazed in the courtyard.
"Takuya, support Eri," Miyuki instructed firmly. "This step cleanses the dust of the road. You must cross it steadily."
"Yes, Mother."
Holding Eri's trembling hand, they crossed the fire together.
Inside the inner hall, before the family shrine, the final ritual awaited.
Miyuki brought forth an ancient porcelain bowl filled with water taken from both families' homes—now mixed.
"Drink together. From this moment, the two families share one bloodline, never to be separated."
The bowl felt cool in Takuya's hand. He sipped first, then offered it to Eri.
She drank quietly.
The cool water washed away the day's exhaustion.
After the elders retired, leaving them alone, Takuya collapsed onto the tatami like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Finally… cleared the stage."
Eri laughed behind her hand, her eyes soft as spring water.
She knelt beside him and began loosening the knots of his heavy attire.
"This felt harder than any game I've ever made," he muttered. "And there's no saving or loading. One wrong move and it's game over."
Eri bent over laughing, her hands still working.
"And the final reward?" she teased.
Takuya merely grinned.
As layer after layer of clothing fell away, he felt lighter, as though shedding the weight of the entire day.
He helped her remove her ornate iro-uchikake.
When they were left in only thin undergarments, the room's air warmed.
Their breaths filled the silence.
Takuya reached out, gently taking her hand.
"Nakayama Eri."
He spoke her new name with quiet reverence.
She froze for a heartbeat, then lifted her gaze—her cheeks blooming with color.
"Yes."
"When you said that name in the shrine today…" His thumb stroked her hand. "I suddenly felt everything we went through was worth it."
Her eyes glistened. She leaned into his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
"I practiced so much… I was terrified I'd stumble in front of everyone."
"You won't," he said softly, kissing the top of her head. "We've waited too long for this. You could never fail."
He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the soft bedding.
Moonlight filtered through the shōji, bathing the room in silver.
Takuya lowered her gently, gazing into her eyes—where stars and moonlight reflected back, along with his own reflection.
"Welcome home, Eri," he whispered.
Eri wrapped her arms around his neck and answered with a kiss—soft, certain, and full of everything left unsaid.
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