It isn't a perfect way to phrase it, but Firefly Wedding's first volume feels like it lands somewhere between Yakuza Fiancé and Yakuza Lover. That's not because there's a yakuza element to the story, at least not in those terms; set during what appears to be either the late Edo period or the early Meiji, heroine Satoko is kidnapped by a group of assassins hired to murder her, which functionally fills the same purpose. As the volume goes on, she pairs the chutzpah of Yoshino with a willingness to make things work for Yuri (plus some of Yakuza Lover's patented instalove), making it an easy book to recommend to fans of both, or either, of those series. But despite these similarities, Firefly Wedding is also very much its own story, which looks like it will be worth reading.

This first volume introduces us to Satoko, the eldest daughter of a nobleman. Satoko has it all on the surface: she's beautiful, refined, wealthy, and beloved by her father. But she's also living with what the story calls “a weak heart,” and isn't expected to live a long life, something that may contribute to the way her stepmother and stepsister treat her. Satoko's biological mother died shortly after her birth, and her stepmother resents her very existence, teaching her daughter (who can't be much more than one or two years younger than Satoko) to do the same. It's not clear whether they don't buy Satoko's illness or are resentful of the affection her father has for her. Still, when Satoko is kidnapped while out shopping, it's hard not to suspect her stepmother's involvement…especially when it's revealed that the kidnappers are assassins who have been hired to kill her. She doesn't think it was her stepfamily, and maybe she's right, but one scene of the servant who was with her at the time of her kidnapping being punished suggests that her entire family may not be as good as she assumes.

Stuck in this terrible situation, Satoko thinks fast. The man supposed to carry out the deed is Shinpei Goto, a young man only two years her senior. Shinpei seems, if not precisely kinder than the other assassins, at least more open to listening, and Satoko decides to bargain with her body: if he frees her, she'll marry him. Shinpei's unimpressed at first, but once he sees her fighting off other assassins who, against orders, are going to rape her, something changes. Although he doesn't say it, that seems to be the exact moment Shinpei falls hard for Satoko, and the two embark on at least a temporary life on the run because they're on an island full of brothels and other disreputable businesses. The only way Satoko can safely leave is if she masquerades as a sex worker and gets a wealthy man to buy her way out.

At this point, it's worth mentioning that “sex worker” (although the text, in a bid for historical accuracy, uses the word “prostitute”) didn't mean someone who had sex with customers. It absolutely could, but someone of Satoko's obvious refinement and beauty could get away with simply being a conversation partner or dancing for clients without physical contact. That's what Shinpei plans for her to do, and he's very clear that he doesn't want anyone touching the woman he's now calling his wife. For her part, Satoko is more than willing to do this, because she wants out - and that means getting off the island. She's not yet sold on keeping her promise of marriage, but it's hard to fault her for that; in her current situation, thinking fast is much more important than honesty, and she's still not sure who it was who put out the hit on her in the first place. She doesn't have many options for people to trust beyond Shinpei.

Satoko and Shinpei aren't fully realized characters yet, but their potential to grow is there. Satoko is used to putting her survival and her father above all else, and thinking on her feet is new to her, so discovering that she's tougher and smarter than she thought is a revelation. Shinpei, on the other hand, grew up on the island and isn't used to being treated with kindness or as anything but a killer by off-islanders, and it's clear that he's starting to realize that he may have always wanted that. He falls for Satoko because she's different than the other people he's known, and there's an odd, awkward innocence to him that coexists uncomfortably with the life he's had to live.

The book opens on a flash-forward, with what looks like an elderly Shinpei reading a letter from a presumably deceased Satoko and crying. Does this foretell an unhappy ending? Possibly; the story is very keen on reminding us of her heart condition and the title speaks of the ephemeral nature of a firefly's glow. But I don't think we should take that as a certainty just yet, because there are too many things we just don't know about her family and background, and she's certainly not shown any signs of illness during this first part of her ordeal. There's plenty of intrigue here beyond the question of who hired Shinpei to kill her.

Oreco Tachibana's brief biography in the back of the book tells us that she got her start in acrylic painting, and that's evident in the delicacy of the lines and detail in the backgrounds. This isn't a perfect start to the series, but it makes you want to read the next volume, a potentially tragic ending notwithstanding. It's entertaining historical fiction, so if that's your thing, check this out.