Fate's Game ~HARULAS

Harua had never thought he'd find himself in this situation. The air around him was thick with tension, the walls of the lavish hall echoing with the soft murmur of whispers from the guests who had gathered for the event. The ornate decorations, the stunning floral arrangements, and the soft hum of classical music only made the entire thing feel more surreal. He couldn't shake the sense that he was trapped in a nightmare, one that he was powerless to escape.

This wedding—his wedding—was nothing but a series of obligations and compromises. His family was in debt, and this marriage to the heir of the Wang Empire was their only escape. The financial weight of it pressed heavily on Harua's chest as he walked through the grand hall in a suit that felt like it was made of stone. The sleeves were too tight, the collar too stiff, and everything about it felt wrong. It wasn't even his choice, this ridiculous, suffocating suit, but his family had insisted. They had insisted on everything.

He glanced around at the guests, many of whom he recognized only by name. They were all so well-dressed, so refined, each of them seemingly in awe of the monumental event taking place. They were here to witness his sacrifice, and it made his stomach churn.

If only I could back out. If only I had a choice.

His gaze drifted toward the front of the room, where the massive altar stood, flanked by elaborate flower arrangements and shimmering gold accents. There, standing under a glittering canopy, was his so-called "fiancé"—Wang Yi-Xiang. Or, rather, he was supposed to be.

As the music swelled, Harua's heart hammered in his chest. It was time. He was supposed to walk down the aisle, to become someone's wife, but not just anyone's—someone who had made the impossible decision to marry him for the sole purpose of financial relief. His hands were slick with sweat, and as he took the first step toward the altar, his entire body screamed for him to turn around, to run, to flee from this farce of a ceremony.

But there was no turning back now.

With every step he took, Harua couldn't help but notice the wedding guests, all eyes on him. They whispered behind their fans, behind their champagne flutes, looking at him like he was some sort of display. He tried to ignore it. He tried to keep his head up, his posture straight, but his mind was spinning.

And then, he stopped.

His eyes landed on the man standing at the altar.

It was him.

Nicholas.

His heart skipped a beat, and his mind scrambled for sense. What the hell was going on? Was he hallucinating? This wasn't possible. It couldn't be. He had to be mistaken.

The man standing before him—dressed in a sharp, regal wedding suit that made him look both impossibly handsome and overwhelmingly out of place—was none other than Nicholas. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by an expression of unease, his hands nervously clasped in front of him. Gone were the designer sunglasses, the casual clothes, and the arrogant aura that always followed him into Café Étoile. This was a completely different person. The calm, polished persona of the heir to the Wang Empire was standing right there in front of him.

His mind was racing. How? Why?

Harua could feel his legs shaking beneath him. The world around him felt like it was spinning in slow motion, and the weight of his family's expectations felt like a physical force pressing down on his chest. This can't be happening. There's no way this is happening.

His eyes locked with Nicholas's—no, Wang Yi-Xiang's—and the shock in Harua's gaze must have been evident, because Nico's expression softened for a brief moment, as if he recognized the confusion and panic swirling in Harua's mind.

Wang Yi-Xiang—Nicholas—shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking to the crowd nervously. His posture was stiff, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with something closer to unease. There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a look Harua wasn't accustomed to. For a moment, it almost felt like he was seeing the real Nico beneath all the layers of confidence.

"Harua," Nicholas said quietly, his voice carrying across the hall. His tone was low and uncertain, far different from the usual, teasing baritone Harua was used to hearing. "This wasn't my idea."

Harua's heart skipped in his chest. "What do you mean? Why are you—"

"Can we talk about this later?" Nicholas—no, Wang Yi-Xiang—interrupted, his voice tense. He gave a nervous smile, trying to salvage the moment, but it only seemed to make the situation worse. "We should get this over with. For your family."

The words stung. Harua's gaze dropped to the floor, his hands shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief. He couldn't believe what was happening. His mind was whirling with questions, with anger, with confusion. But as the ceremony progressed, with every step he took toward the altar, the words and questions in his mind became jumbled. His thoughts were a storm, and he was being dragged along, forced to follow along with this absurd fate.

As Harua finally reached the altar, the officiant began the ceremony. The guests were all watching him, the entire room focused on the unfolding spectacle. Harua tried to focus, tried to get a grip on the reality of what was happening, but his mind was consumed by the shock of it all.

The officiant looked between Harua and Nicholas, his voice even and steady. "Do you, Harua, take Wang Yi-Xiang to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish, in good times and bad?"

Harua's mouth went dry. He couldn't speak. His throat felt tight. How could this be real?

"Harua?" The officiant's voice was patient, but there was an edge to it. Harua could feel the pressure building.

He blinked, snapping out of his daze. He glanced at Nico—Wang Yi-Xiang—who was watching him, his brow furrowed in uncertainty, his lips pressed tightly together.

I have to do this. For my family. For them.

"Y-Yes," Harua finally whispered, his voice shaking, but the words left his mouth as if they were someone else's. His heart was hammering, and every fiber of his being screamed in protest. But he said it anyway, because he had no choice.

The officiant turned to Nicholas, his attention shifting. "And do you, Wang Yi-Xiang, take Harua to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Nicholas hesitated, looking at Harua for a moment longer than was probably appropriate. Harua's breath caught in his throat. Was he really going to say the words? Was this all just a charade? But then, Nicholas nodded, albeit with a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

"I do," Nicholas said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. But there was something about it, something in the way he said it, that made Harua wonder if Nicholas truly understood the weight of those words, or if he was just as trapped as Harua was in this strange, unexpected arrangement.

The officiant smiled and nodded, continuing, "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The finality of the words struck Harua like a slap to the face. He was married. Married to Nicholas. Nico.

The crowd erupted into applause, and Harua's mind buzzed with a million thoughts, none of which made any sense.

Nicholas stepped closer, his hand outstretched toward Harua. His fingers trembled slightly, and for a brief moment, the imperious heir to the Wang Empire seemed far more human than Harua had ever seen him.

As Harua reached out and shook Nicholas's hand, the weight of the ceremony settled on his shoulders. He wasn't sure what had just happened, or what was going to happen next, but one thing was painfully clear: everything was about to change.