Chapter Text
They stuck together everywhere.
Taekwondo competitions. Basketball games. Homework at one house, then the other. Weekends blurred into routines that included shared lunches, shared rides, shared silences. Their mothers sat together on the sidelines, cheering too loudly, clapping at the wrong moments, laughing when the children glanced back in embarrassment. Their fathers watched more carefully. Not coldly. Carefully, like men measuring the weight of something before deciding how to carry it.
It was obvious to everyone.
Teachers noticed first. Elaine and Seijuro were always paired, even when assignments did not require it. Group work somehow turned into two neat desks pushed together. When one finished early, they waited. When one struggled, the other leaned in without being asked.
Classmates noticed next. Whispers followed them down hallways. Nothing cruel. Just curiosity. They were the kind of pair people assumed had always existed.
Masaomi did not like assumptions.
“It invites talk,” he said one evening, after another basketball game where Elaine sat courtside with Shiori and Diane, waving without shame. “They are heirs. Appearances matter.”
Sebastian agreed. Not because he shared the anxiety, but because he understood the consequences. Visibility could be weaponized. Rumors hardened quickly in circles like theirs.
“They are children,” Diane said. Calm, but firm.
“So is reputation,” Masaomi replied.
The solution came from Sebastian.
An engagement. Formal. Private. Framed as protection rather than possession. A statement that their closeness was sanctioned, not reckless.
Diane stared at him when he said it. Shiori’s expression tightened immediately.
“No,” Diane said. “Absolutely not.”
“They can break it off later,” Sebastian replied. “When they are older. When they understand.”
Shiori shook her head. “You do not promise children to each other like chess pieces.”
Masaomi did not object. He saw structure. Control. A narrative he could manage.
The women spoke later. Alone. Voices low.
“If they hate it,” Diane said, “we end it.”
“We will end it,” Shiori agreed. “No matter what our husbands say.”
They trusted each other enough to make that promise.
The children were told separately.
Elaine listened quietly as Diane explained it gently, carefully, like something fragile.
“It does not mean marriage now,” Diane said. “It means nothing changes unless you want it to.”
Elaine frowned. Thought. Then asked, “Can I still sit next to him?”
“Yes.”
“Can we still fight over stuff?.”
Diane smiled. “Especially that.”
“Okay,” Elaine said. And that was that.
Seijuro received the news with more silence. Masaomi explained it plainly. Expectations. Appearances. Responsibility.
Seijuro nodded. He had been nodding at adults his whole life.
“What do you think,” Masaomi asked, watching closely.
“I will do my best,” Seijuro replied.
It was not enthusiasm. It was not resistance. It was compliance shaped like maturity. The decision was made above their heads.
The celebration was planned with care.
Not the kind of party that children imagined when they heard the word. No balloons. No games. No noise. It was held in a private hall with high ceilings and soft lighting. Everything was white and gold and polished until it reflected faces back too clearly.
Elaine wore a dress chosen for her. It was beautiful, everyone said. The fabric was stiff against her neck. She kept tugging at the sleeves until Diane gently stilled her hands.
Seijuro wore a suit tailored too precisely for a child. He stood straight because he knew he was expected to. He did not fidget. He did not complain.
They were positioned side by side.
Adults spoke. Long speeches about family, legacy, future cooperation. Words that floated above Elaine’s head without landing. Words Seijuro listened to carefully but did not absorb.
Then came the moment everyone had waited for in silence.
Diane knelt slightly beside Elaine, holding her hands gently. Masaomi watched Seijuro with careful eyes. Sebastian stood behind Diane, nodding.
Two small velvet boxes were brought forward. Elaine lifted the lid of hers to see a tiny gold ring inside. Seijuro did the same, revealing his matching ring.
“Now,” Diane said softly, “you each place the ring on the other’s finger.”
Elaine blinked, then slid Seijuro’s ring onto his finger. His hand was steady, though his small fingers tightened slightly around hers.
Seijuro carefully took Elaine’s ring and placed it on her finger.
For a moment, their hands stayed together. No words were spoken. No dramatic vows. Just rings glinting under the soft light.
“This exchange,” Diane whispered, “is a promise from the adults. It is meant to protect you both and to honor the agreement we have made. You do not need to understand it fully yet.”
Elaine nodded, eyes wide but calm. Seijuro’s lips curved into a tiny, approving smile.
The exchange done, Diane gently pulled back their hands. They looked at their fingers, small rings shining.
Diane whispered, “This is a promise from the adults. It is not yours to decide fully yet, but it is meant to protect you both.”
Elaine nodded, accepting it the way she always accepted Diane’s guidance. Seijuro’s expression stayed calm, though his fingers tightened slightly around hers.
They stood for a moment longer, side by side, the rings catching the light in tiny flashes. Adults whispered among themselves, adjusting collars, clearing their throats, making polite gestures of approval. The children barely noticed, caught in the strange quiet of the ceremony, the gravity of it floating over them without landing.
After the formalities, Diane led Elaine gently toward a side table where refreshments had been set. Seijuro followed at a measured distance, his hands folded neatly in front of him, the weight of his own ring still new and unfamiliar.
“You did well,” Diane said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from Elaine’s face. “You were calm, steady.”
Elaine nodded, her small fingers flexing slightly over the gold band. She had no idea what it meant in the larger world, only that it had felt important because Diane and Sebastian had made it so.
Seijuro’s father, Masaomi, gave a short nod from across the room, the faintest hint of satisfaction in his otherwise guarded posture. Sebastian, watching his daughter, allowed himself a quiet smile. The arrangement was done, but for now, it was just a formal gesture; an invisible line drawn between them by adults who understood the stakes.
Throughout the evening, the children moved like any other guests at a quiet gathering, hands full of small pastries, glasses of juice, chatting politely when prompted, laughing at the occasional joke whispered from their mothers. To the other children, if any had noticed, it looked ordinary. No one knew about the rings hidden under sleeves, no one could understand the unspoken promise nestled in gold.
When the ceremony concluded, Diane knelt beside Elaine once more. “Remember,” she said softly, “this is a promise from the adults. It is not yours to worry over now. Live your days as you always do, play, learn, and grow. Everything else will come in time.”
Elaine pressed her thumb lightly against the ring on her finger, a small anchor in the swirling evening. Seijuro, standing nearby, mirrored the gesture almost instinctively, and for the briefest of moments, they shared an understanding that needed no words.