If I had a nickel for every time my life was ruined by a hologram, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice in one week.
I was currently pinned to my living room floor. Not by a demon, and not by a 'Traditional' headlock (though that was usually on the schedule for 2:00 PM). No, I was being held down by the sheer, unadulterated weight of Traditional Luxury.
In the center of the room, a life-sized, flickering blue hologram of the North Moon Elder was currently hovering over my coffee table. Beside her, Gary the Intern was frantically adjusting a series of knobs on a digital console that looked like it belonged on the bridge of a starship.
"Citizens of the Lower Realm!" the Elder's voice boomed, crackling with static and ancient authority. "The Board of Elders has reviewed the footage of the 'Flaming Shed Incident.' We have analyzed the salt-to-despair ratio of Inuzuka Kyotaru's aura. The verdict is unanimous!"
"We're live in five, four, three—" Gary whispered, before being shushed by a spectral cane.
"Inuzuka Kyotaru!" the Elder continued. "By the power vested in me by the Silver Moon and the three-volume manual on 'How to Exploit the Unlucky,' I formally grant you the title of Fiancé of the Shindou-Ainsworth! You have passed the test of the 'Sponge of Sorrow'! Your life is no longer your own! It belongs to the Moon... and the taxes associated with it!"
"I decline!" I muffled into the floorboards. "I invoke my right to be a background character! I want to be the guy in the anime who walks past the main characters holding a grocery bag and never speaks!"
"A drone is currently approaching your coordinates!" Gary shouted, ignoring my plea. "Deployment of the Traditional Engagement Accessory in three... two... one..."
BUZZZZZZZZ.
A silver-plated drone, looking like a miniature UFO, hovered through the open window. It lowered a heavy, velvet-lined box. Before I could crawl under the sofa, the drone's robotic arm snapped open and clamped a Solid Gold Neck Chain around my throat.
THUD.
I didn't fall. I was anchored. The chain weighed at least fifty pounds. It wasn't a necklace—it was a jewelry-grade tether. My face was slammed back into the hardwood with enough force to vibrate my molars.
"It is the 'Shackle of the Moon'!" Amilia cheered, clapping her hands. She was already kneeling beside me, her violet eyes shining with a look that suggested she was already picking out the color of our funeral shrouds. "It signifies that you are anchored to my heart! And also that you cannot run faster than three miles per hour! It is so romantic!"
"I can't... breathe..." I wheezed. "My neck... is now... a load-bearing pillar..."
I stole a glance toward the corner of the room. Yuko was standing there. She wasn't yelling. She wasn't crying. She was just... staring. Her 'Saintly' aura had turned into a swirling vortex of cold, dark energy that made the air in the room feel like a walk-in freezer. She was holding a pair of safety scissors, slowly opening and closing them with a rhythmic snip... snip... snip...
"Fiancé," Yuko whispered. The word didn't sound like a title—it sounded like a death sentence. "So, a drone just decided your future, Kyotaru-kun? A piece of plastic and silver-plating thinks it can overwrite thirteen years of 'Childhood Friend' seniority?"
"Yuko, the chain is heavy!" I cried. "Help me! Use the scissors! Use a blowtorch! Use your 'Saintly' kindness to commit a crime!"
"Oh, I'll help you," Yuko said, her smile not reaching her eyes. "I'll help you realize that 'Traditional' chains are nothing compared to the 'Bonds of Childhood Habit.' Just wait, Kyotaru-kun. I'm currently calculating the exact amount of 'Accidental' property damage I need to cause to reset this scenario."
Just as Amilia was about to 'Traditionally' brand my forehead with a heart-shaped sticker to commemorate the engagement, the universe decided that my house hadn't suffered enough structural damage for one week.
KABOOM.
The ceiling didn't just leak. it evaporated. A shower of plaster, insulation, and several terrified spiders rained down on us. A figure crashed through the roof, slamming into the center of the coffee table with the force of a falling meteor.
The table—my mother's favorite mahogany piece—splintered into a thousand jagged fragments.
Standing in the ruins of my living room was a girl. She looked like she had been dragged through a coal mine and then pelted with burning marshmallows. Her golden hair was singed, her white dress was torn, and she was clutching a piece of paper that looked like it had been salvaged from a sewer.
Archangel Seraphina looked up, her blue eyes pulsing with a terrifying, purplish light.
"YOU," she rasped, pointing a scorched finger at me.
"Me?" I squeaked, the gold chain around my neck clinking as I tried to back away. "I didn't do it! Whatever it is, I have an alibi! I was busy being enslaved by a hologram!"
"THE PAPER!" Seraphina screamed, holding up the muddy, gum-stained scroll. "THE DIVINE SUMMONS! THE PLEA OF THE SEVENTH CIRCLE! YOU STEPPED ON IT! YOU ALL STEPPED ON IT!"
The room went silent. For a second, I felt a twinge of actual, human guilt. This was a literal Angel. She had come from the heavens to ask for help, and I had used her holy message as a doormat because I was arguing about a corn dog.
But then, I remembered who I was sharing a room with.
Amilia didn't look at the Angel with awe. She reached under the sofa—where I assumed we kept the dust bunnies and old magazines—and pulled out a Silver-Plated RPG-7.
"Traditional Trespasser!" Amilia roared, hoisting the rocket launcher onto her shoulder with the ease of a professional soldier. "You have interrupted the Fiancé-Branding! You have destroyed the Coffee Table of the Consort! According to the Code of the Moon, an uninvited guest who enters through the roof must be 'Traditionally' neutralized!"
"Wait, why do you have an RPG?!" I yelled. "And why is it silver?!"
"It was a gift for our first anniversary!" she beamed. "But I decided to open it early!"
Yuko didn't miss a beat. She reached into her grocery bag—the one she usually carried juice boxes in—and pulled out a Military-Grade Rocket Launcher that looked like it had been stolen from a high-security armory.
"Sanitation Breach!" Yuko hissed, aiming the weapon at Seraphina's head. "You've tracked ceiling insulation and 'Holy Soot' into my childhood friend's hair! Do you know how hard it is to get fiberglass out of a messy dark hairstyle?! I'll blast you back to the clouds, you winged litter-bug!"
"Wait!" I screamed, waving my one free hand while the gold chain pinned me down. "Everyone stop! She's an Angel! She has a message! We can talk this out without converting my house into a crater!"
Seraphina looked at the two rocket launchers pointed at her face. She looked at me, a boy in a 'Maid of Misery' dress (which I was still wearing under the chain) who was currently being crushed by a gold necklace.
"You don't understand!" Seraphina wailed, her voice cracking. "The Void-Stalkers! The Eternal Maw! The demons were at my throat! I wrote 'PLEASE HELP ME' on this paper! I cast it into the world as a final, desperate cry for a Savior! And I watched from the aether as you... you three... walked over it like it was a used napkin!"
She thrust the muddy paper toward my face. "Look at the gum, Savior! Look at the footprint! You stepped directly on the word 'HELP'!"
I looked at the paper. Then I looked at her.
"Okay, look," I said, my voice taking on the deadpan tone of a man whose brain cells were dying in real-time. "First of all, I was looking for a 10-yen coin. Do you have any idea what the inflation rate is for yakisoba bread lately? It's gone up by five yen! That's an 8% increase! Your 'Please Help' was blocking my financial vision! I can't save the world if I can't afford lunch!"
"It was a littering violation!" Yuko added, her finger twitching on the trigger of the rocket launcher. "If I hadn't stepped on it to flatten it, someone might have slipped! I was performing a public service by crushing your plea into the dirt! A clean sidewalk is the foundation of a 'Saintly' society! Your apocalypse is messy!"
"And furthermore!" Amilia shouted, adjusting the RPG. "Pleading is a low-tier tradition! If you wanted help from a Shindou-Ainsworth, you should have used a silver-embossed scroll with at least 15% salt content! This paper is... 20-pound bond! It's an insult to my heels! I didn't even feel it under my shoe! It had zero structural presence!"
Seraphina blinked. A single, tear rolled down her cheek. "But... the world... the demons... the Void..."
"The Void doesn't have a 'Traditional' standing!" Amilia countered. "Does the Void have a Board of Elders? No! Does the Void have a silver limousine? No! It is just a big hole! We deal with holes every day! Inuzuka-sama falls into at least three holes a week! We are experts in holes!"
"And your wings!" Yuko stepped closer, her rocket launcher still leveled. "Are they vaccinated? Do you have a permit for those feathers? They look like a biological hazard. I bet they're full of celestial mites. I should spray you with 'Holy Disinfectant' just to be safe."
"I... I am an Archangel..." Seraphina whispered.
"You're a squatter," I muttered. "You broke my roof. You broke my table. And you're complaining about a piece of paper. Do you know how much a new mahogany coffee table costs? It's three times my 'Fiancé' allowance! Your apocalypse is actually less expensive than your entrance!"
The air in the room became strangely still.
Seraphina looked at me. Then she looked at the silver RPG. Then she looked at the grocery-bag rocket launcher. Finally, she looked at the cat, Sorrow, who was currently licking a piece of fallen ceiling insulation as if it were a delicacy.
A visible [Error 404: Theology Not Found] message seemed to flicker in Seraphina's eyes. Her golden halo, which had been sparking with purple energy, suddenly flickered and turned into a blinking red "
'Low Battery' symbol.
"I... I see," she said. Her voice was flat. Hollow. The voice of someone who had just realized that the 'Light' was actually just a flickering bulb in a room full of lunatics.
"The demons..." she whispered. "The Void-Stalkers... they are at least logical. They want to consume the universe because they are hungry. They have a goal. They have a process."
She looked at the three of us one last time.
"But you people... you people are arguing about corn dog sticks and 'Traditional' salt content while the fabric of reality is being shredded. You aren't heroes. You aren't even villains. You're just... you're an administrative error in the eyes of God."
"Is that a compliment?" I asked.
Seraphina didn't answer. She didn't even try to fly. She just jumped back through the hole in the roof, her wings flapping with a tired, pathetic sound.
"I'm going back to the Void," her voice drifted down from the sky. "At least the demons don't have rocket launchers in their grocery bags! I hope the 'Sorrow' consumes you all! I hope you all run out of salt!"
She vanished into the night, screaming into the darkness.
"Well," Amilia said, putting the RPG back under the sofa. "She was 'Traditionally' rude. I shall give her a negative review on the 'Celestial Yelp' app."
"I need a new ceiling," I whispered, the gold chain around my neck feeling heavier than ever. "And a new soul. Can I buy a soul at the department store?"
Instructor Kirara appeared out of the smoke, her business suit completely untouched by the plaster dust. She snapped her whip, the sound echoing through the ruined living room.
"Enough divine distractions!" she barked. "Since Student Kyotaru is now officially a Fiancé, he must prove his worth as a 'Provider.' We are going to the Central Department Store for 'Traditional Consort Provisioning.' The wedding preparations begin now!"
"Wedding?!" I shrieked. "I haven't even had a date yet! My first date was a 'Salt-Tasting' challenge!"
"The date is irrelevant!" Amilia cheered. "The 'Provisioning' is what matters! We must buy the 'Sacred Tools of the Household'!"
Two hours later, I was in the mall. I wasn't walking—I was being used as a pack-mule.
Kirara had modified my gold chain. It was now attached to a series of high-capacity shopping carts. I was dragging four carts behind me, while my arms were piled high with boxes that smelled like 'Traditional' doom.
The 'Wedding List' included:
1. A Tactical Bunker (Foldable): For 'Traditional' protection against Yuko's jealousy.
2. 500 Gallons of Holy Vinegar: For the 'Sanitation of the Consort.'
3. A Silver-Plated Guillotine: For cutting the 'Traditional' marriage cake (the Elders insisted on a 'Severing of the Past' ritual).
4. Matching 'His and Hers' Riot Shields: Decorated with silver moons and bear-patterns.
"Kyotaru-kun, hold this!" Yuko commanded, stacking five more boxes on top of my head. "It's a 'Saintly Slow-Cooker.' It ensures the vegetables are cooked until they have no will to resist being eaten."
"I can't see!" I yelled from under the mountain of consumerism. "I am a vertical pillar of boxes! I am a retail golem!"
We passed by the food court, where I saw a familiar figure. It was Prince Kaito. He was currently standing near a trash can, trying to get arrested by a security guard for 'Stealing a single grape' from a display.
"I am Scum!" Kaito was yelling, tears in his eyes. "Look at me! I am a criminal! I am pitiable! Give me the handcuffs!"
"Sir, it's a 'free sample' bowl," the guard sighed. "Please just take the grape and go."
"I REFUSE! I DEMAND TO BE HATED!"
As we walked past, I noticed someone else in the background. Behind the counter of a 'Heavenly Crepe' stand, wearing a hairnet and a look of absolute, soul-crushing defeat, was... Seraphina.
She was dead-eyed, mechanically flipping crepes while a line of screaming toddlers demanded more sprinkles.
"Welcome to... Heavenly Crepes," she muttered, her voice a ghost of its former glory. "Would you like... 'Archangel's Whipped Cream'? It tastes like... my lost dignity."
I looked at her. She looked at me.
"Do you have a loyalty card?" she asked, her purple eyes flickering with a tiny spark of vengeful fire.
"I'm moving," I whispered to a riot shield. "I'm moving to the center of the sun. It's the only way to be sure."
The mall trip ended with me being dragged home, 30,000 yen poorer and 100% more bruised.
Amilia had been called away by a 'Traditional Emergency'—apparently, her hostage cat, Sorrow, had managed to lock itself in the family vault and was currently eating the 'Traditional' birth certificates. Kirara had gone with her to supervise the 'Vault Extraction.'
For the first time in a week, the house was quiet.
Well, quiet except for the wind whistling through the hole in my roof.
I was sitting on the back porch, staring at the moon. The gold chain was still around my neck, though I'd managed to loop it over a porch post so I could actually sit up. I was exhausted. My brain felt like it had been put through a woodchipper.
"Kyotaru-kun."
I turned. Yuko was standing in the doorway. She wasn't wearing her butler suit anymore. She was in her regular clothes, her long black hair catching the silver moonlight. She looked... normal. Almost like the girl I'd known since the Trash-Bin Incident of age four.
"Oh, hey Yuko," I muttered. "Are you here for the 'Midnight Safety Check'? I've already checked the doors. And the windows. And I've checked the sky for falling angels."
She didn't answer. She walked over and sat down beside me on the porch. The silence was heavy, but it wasn't the 'Slayer' silence from earlier. It was... soft.
"I'm sorry about the ceiling," she said quietly. "And the table. I know you liked that table."
"It's fine," I sighed. "In this house, furniture is a temporary state of matter."
I looked at her. Was this it? Was the 'Marriage War' finally taking a break? Was the 'Saint of the Neighborhood' coming back to the friend-zone? Part of me—the cynical, bruised part—actually felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I'd get my childhood friend back.
"Yuko," I said, my voice softening. "About all this 'Traditional' nonsense... and the Fiancé thing... I don't want any of it. I just want things to be the way they were. Just us, eating ice cream and you telling me why my shoes are tied wrong."
Yuko looked at me. Her emerald eyes—wait, no, they were dark brown again—seemed to shimmer. She leaned in closer. I could smell the 'Saintly' lavender and the faint scent of rocket-fuel.
"Kyotaru-kun," she whispered. "Do you really mean that?"
"Yeah. I do."
She leaned in even further. I froze. My heart, which had been battered by salt and electricity, started to pound against my ribs. Wait, I thought. Is this a confession? A real one? No tropes? No RPGs? Is the universe finally giving me a break?
She closed her eyes. I felt her breath on my cheek.
And then, she kissed me.
It was a soft, lingering kiss right on the cheek. It felt like... like warmth. Like a memory of a time before silver hair and 'Traditional' salt. For a split second, the world stopped spinning. The gold chain felt light. The hole in the roof didn't matter.
'I have a wonderful life,' I thought, a single, happy tear pricking my eye. 'Maybe bad luck isn't everything. Maybe I've finally—'
I looked at Yuko's face as she pulled back.
My heart didn't stop—it plummeted into a frozen abyss.
Yuko wasn't blushing. She wasn't looking at me with the tender gaze of a girl in love. Her eyes were wide, pulsing with a dark, territorial light. Her smile was sharp—not sweet, but possessive. It was the look of a general who had just successfully annexed a disputed territory.
"There," Yuko said, her voice dripping with a terrifying, cold satisfaction. "Now the 'Traditional' mark of the Silver Moon has been overwritten by the 'Mark of the Childhood Friend.' I've claimed the territory, Kyotaru-kun."
"Yuko?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "What... what was that?"
She stood up, towering over me. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, laminated card. It was a 'Saintly Petition for Marital Parity.'
"I've already contacted my parents," Yuko said, her voice flat and determined. "And I've contacted the school board. If that silver-haired intruder thinks she can just call herself a 'Fiancé' because of a drone, she's wrong. I've officially filed a 'Right of First Refusal' based on thirteen years of prior service."
"Prior service?! I'm not a contract!"
"From this moment on," Yuko declared, pointing a finger at the moon, "I am also your Fiancé, Kyotaru-kun. It's a Dual-Engagement. If you marry her, you marry me. If she stays in your house, I stay in your house. I won't let her have you all to herself. I'd rather we all burn in the 'Sorrow' together than let her win."
I stared at her. I looked at the kiss-mark on my cheek, which now felt like a brand of eternal ownership. I looked at the gold chain around my neck.
The 'wonderful life' I had imagined for three seconds had been a hallucination. A cruel prank played by a universe that found my hope as funny as my physical pain.
"I'm doomed," I whispered to the moon. "I'm not a husband. I'm a prize in a war between two girls who have lost their minds, supervised by an instructor with a whip, while an Archangel flips crepes in the food court."
"Don't be silly, Kyotaru-kun!" Yuko chirped, her "Saintly" mask snapping back into place. "It'll be fun! We can have 'Traditional' salt-fights and 'Saintly' sanitation-offs every night! Now, let's go inside. I need to help you 'Traditionally' scrub that silver-haired scent off your pillow.'
I sat on the porch, the gold chain clinking against the wood.
"Gary," I whispered into the night air. "If you can hear me... please... send the Void-Stalkers back. I'll even let them eat my 10-yen coin. I just want to go home."
But I was already home. And home was a war zone.