By midnight, I was standing barefoot in an old shrine that looked like it hadn't seen a renovation since the Edo period.
The wooden floor creaked under my feet, the air thick with incense and cold wind. Candles flickered around us, their flames bending whenever I exhaled too hard.
Somehow, this was my wedding.
No guests. No music. Just one exorcist, one terrified girl, and a curse that wanted my soul for dinner.
You know....this wasn't bad..it was super bad
Rikuya stood opposite me, wearing traditional black robes embroidered with faint white sigils that pulsed softly under the candlelight.
He looked calm, too calm, like this was just another night at the office.
Meanwhile, I was trying not to faint.
"Shouldn't we have, I don't know, a priest? Or at least a witness?" I asked, hugging my arms.
He glanced at me. "There's already one watching."
I frowned. "What do you mean by—"
And then I felt it.
A chill brushed the back of my neck, soft as a breath. The shadows behind the altar rippled, and for a split second, a pair of pale eyes blinked open in the dark.
My voice cracked. "Please tell me that's just the wind."
"It's the spirit," Rikuya said flatly. "The one bound to your bloodline. It wants to make sure you sign."
"Great, even ghosts care about paperwork."
---
He knelt down and placed the old scroll between us. The paper looked ancient, its ink shimmering faintly with every flicker of flame.
"Repeat after me," he said, voice low but firm.
His tone left no room for argument — not that I had the energy for one.
"From this moment, my soul binds to yours."
I hesitated, my throat dry. "From this moment…"
> "Until death parts us…"
"…or binds us forever."
As the last word left my lips, the talisman on the floor flared bright silver.
A sound, like a deep, echoing heartbeat, pulsed through the room.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
I was pretty sure he didn't love me, and I was more sure that I was scared.
The floor trembled. Candles blew out one by one.
I gasped as something invisible coiled around my wrist, a faint, glowing thread that stretched toward Rikuya. It wrapped around his wrist too, and for an instant, our pulses synced.
The thread sank into my skin, burning cold.
"W-What's happening?" I stammered.
"The binding," Rikuya said calmly, though his own breathing had quickened. "It's rewriting fate."
The shadows swirled around us, shapes flickering through the dark — faces, hands, whispers in languages I didn't understand.
I caught fragments:
"Borrowed life..."
"Shared death..."
"A promise repeated..."
You didn't have to say....the borrowed life part
My knees gave out. Rikuya stepped forward, catching me before I hit the floor.
His hand was warm, his pulse steady — painfully human.
"You're safe," he said quietly. "It's over."
But it didn't feel over.
Something heavy lingered in the air, like a presence too large to leave unnoticed.
And then I heard it, a faint, whispering voice right beside my ear:
"Until death parts you both… or binds you forever."
The last candle went out.
---
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a futon in an unfamiliar room. The scent of cedar and incense hung in the air. My wrist still throbbed faintly where the thread had burned into my skin, leaving behind a faint white mark, like a ring made of light.
It was like.....I had instant transmission like Goku.
I turned my head, and there he was, Rikuya — sitting by the window, eyes closed, as if listening to something only he could hear.
He looked… exhausted.
"Hey," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Still alive?"
His eyes opened slowly.
> "For now," he said.
Morning never came.
Or maybe it did, but the sky outside Rikuya's house still looked like midnight, clouded, bruised, and half-asleep.
It was like...a domain.
Y'all sure Gojo didn't visit this place?
I sat up slowly, my head spinning. Everything around me was too quiet. The kind of silence that hums.
The futon I was lying on smelled faintly of cedar and something older, smoke, maybe, or the past. The room itself was minimalist: shoji doors, tatami floors, not a single personal item in sight. Like Rikuya had Marie Kondo'd the life out of it.
I rubbed my wrist. The mark was still there — faint, white, glowing under my skin.
A reminder that I was now spiritually married to a stranger.
"Morning," I croaked.
From the corner, Rikuya was kneeling in front of a small altar, lighting incense. He didn't turn around. "It's not morning," he said.
"Oh, good. Time isn't real anymore. Love that for me."
He ignored me, whispering what sounded like prayers in a language I didn't know. His voice was calm but heavy, like he was carrying every word with both hands.
When he finally stood, he glanced over his shoulder. "You should rest."
"I literally just woke up."
"Then rest again."
"Wow. You really know how to talk to women."
---
He sighed, the first sign of actual emotion I'd seen from him and walked to the low table, pouring tea into two small cups.
"I'm not good at small talk," he admitted.
I blinked. "You shock me."
He handed me a cup. I took it, trying not to stare at the faint scar running across his wrist — the same place our thread had burned through last night.
"So…" I started carefully, "are we, like, technically married now?"
His expression didn't change. "Spiritually, yes. Legally, no. It wouldn't be appropriate."
"Oh, thank god. I was worried I'd have to start calling you 'Honey.'"
He looked mildly horrified. "Please don't."
"Now.... I was really sure he didn't love me!"
I sipped my tea. It was bitter. Like everything else about this new reality.
"Okay, Mr. Exorcist," I said. "What now? Do I just wait for the curse to chill out, or—"
A chill crawled up my spine before I finished.
The air shifted — heavy and cold. The candles flickered again, even though there was no wind.
Rikuya's head snapped toward the corner of the room.
"Don't move," he whispered.
I froze. "Why? What—"
And then I saw it.
A figure, faint and gray standing just beyond the paper door. Its outline shimmered, head tilted too far to one side, eyes two empty, glowing hollows.
My throat went dry. "Rikuya…"
He didn't answer. He moved his hand, tracing a symbol in the air. The spirit hissed, a low, awful sound, and vanished into a cloud of black mist.
Silence returned.
I exhaled shakily. "Was that—?"
"Yes," he said simply. "It was drawn to the new bond."
"Cool," I said weakly. "So my new marital status is ghost bait."
Rikuya looked at me, serious as ever. "You'll see more. They can sense your life now — and they'll want it."
"Oh, perfect. I'm a human glow stick for the dead."
---
He didn't smile, but there was something softer in his eyes now — a flicker of… guilt? Maybe pity.
"You don't have to face them alone," he said quietly.
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But the mark on my wrist pulsed againz faint, rhythmic, like a heartbeat that wasn't mine.
And in that moment, I realized something terrifying:
It wasn't just my life that had changed.
Something deep inside me had started to wake up.
---
As I lay back down, trying to pretend sleep was even possible, I whispered to myself:
"Day One, and I already married death himself."