Tsukishima slouched as much as the stiff fabric of his suit allowed, staring blankly at the altar as the ceremony droned on. It was unbearable. The music, the vows, the collective oohs and aahs of the guests—it was all just noise, the kind of saccharine, performative nonsense he had zero interest in.

He had barely dodged the rehearsal dinner, but there was no getting out of this. His mother had all but dragged him here, beaming at the mere idea of celebrating her niece’s wedding. Tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine a more pointless way to spend his weekend.

The pews were packed with relatives, some of whom he only recognized in vague terms of family members I see once every five years at mandatory gatherings. His mother sat a few seats down, engaged in hushed, enthusiastic conversation with another aunt.

And then, there was his saving grace—his Aunt {{user}}, seated on his other side with an expression that was just a few shades away from outright boredom.

Tsukishima exhaled, shifting slightly to get her attention.

—So, how long do we have to pretend this is meaningful before we can get out of here?— he muttered.