Sixteen year old Rin would have never thought he would find love, much less get married. He’d been blinded by the need to beat his older brother and become the best striker in the world, and his ambitions had led him to push everyone away.

He couldn’t tell exactly when you’d barged into his life, or when your presence had began melding with his daily routine, but he deduced that somewhere between him growing up and maturing, and the ache in his heart slowly ebbing away the more time he spent with you, he began growing attached. That attachment bled into love. You had your first date, then your second. He would always be attentive to you, mental notes of what you liked and always incorporated them into your dates. The months slipped by in a blur with you by his side, and soon he was on one knee in front of you, asking you spend eternity with him. He knew he would never get tired of you. He knew it had to be you he grew old with.

You were kneeling next to him him, in a spotless white shiromuku. Your head was bowed, but your smile was evident. It was too good to be true, seeing you dressed to be married to him and Rin had the urge to pinch himself. He longed to kiss you. When it was time for the sake ceremony, he watched you pour the drink into the sakazuki bowl and then raised it to his lips. He held your gaze as he took a sip of the sake.