The limited express train from Kyoto to Nara was practically empty during the mid-morning transit.
Siddanth and Krithika sat side-by-side in the wide, comfortable seats. Outside the window, the dense, low-rise buildings of Kyoto gradually gave way to open green fields and distant, tree-covered hills.
Siddanth rested his arm on the center console. He opened his hand. Krithika placed her hand in his. He loosely interlocked his fingers with hers.
It was a quiet, completely uninterrupted moment. There were no tour guides. There were no schedules.
"We only have five days left," Krithika noted, looking out the window at the passing landscape.
"We covered Tokyo and Kyoto," Siddanth replied, looking at her profile. "Nara today. Osaka tomorrow. Then we fly back."
"I do not want to go back to the estate yet," Krithika admitted, turning her head to look at him. "It is peaceful here. Nobody knows who you are."
"A few people recognized me in Tokyo," Siddanth corrected her gently.
"But they didn't crowd you," she pointed out. "They just bowed and kept walking. It is a very polite society."
Siddanth smiled slightly. He squeezed her hand. "We have to go back eventually. But we still have five days. We will maximize the time."
The train pulled into Kintetsu-Nara Station. They stepped off the train and walked up to the street level.
Nara Park was a massive, sprawling public park located at the base of Mount Wakakusa. It was famous for its ancient temples, but it was globally renowned for its population of over a thousand free-roaming, wild Sika deer.
They walked up the main sloping road toward the park entrance.
The deer were everywhere. They were sleeping on the grass. They were standing on the sidewalks. They were casually walking across the pedestrian crosswalks, completely unfazed by the traffic.
Along the pathway, several small wooden stalls sold shika senbei—special crackers made of wheat bran specifically formulated for the deer.
"Wait here," Siddanth instructed.
He walked up to the stall. He handed the vendor a thousand-yen note. The vendor handed him five large stacks of the round, flat crackers, bound together by thin paper bands.
Siddanth held the five stacks in his left hand. He walked back toward Krithika.
A single, medium-sized male deer standing near a stone lantern noticed the crackers. The deer walked directly up to Siddanth and stopped.
The deer lowered its head, executing a perfect, deliberate bow.
Siddanth stopped. He looked at the deer. He found the polite gesture impressive. Siddanth bowed his head in return, broke off a piece of the cracker, and handed it to the deer. The animal took it gently from his fingers and chewed.
"They are very well trained," Siddanth observed, turning to Krithika.
"Sid," Krithika said, her voice carrying a distinct tone of warning. She took two steps backward, putting distance between herself and Siddanth.
Siddanth turned around.
The single bow had been a highly coordinated tactical maneuver. It was a distraction.
While Siddanth was returning the bow, exactly twelve adult Sika deer had silently flanked him from the grass. They formed a tight, aggressive semi-circle, completely blocking his path.
The deer closest to him did not bow. It stepped forward and forcefully headbutted Siddanth's thigh.
Another deer stepped up to his left side and aggressively nudged his elbow.
"Alright," Siddanth said, taking a step back. "Wait your turn."
The deer did not care about waiting. They saw the massive stack of crackers in his hand. The peaceful, polite animals from the brochures completely vanished. They transformed into a highly coordinated gang.
Three deer advanced simultaneously. One of them opened its mouth, clamped its teeth securely onto the bottom hem of Siddanth's grey t-shirt, and pulled hard.
"Hey," Siddanth yelled, trying to pull his shirt back without dropping the crackers.
Krithika retreated to a large stone pillar. She did not offer to help. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, opened the camera app, and hit record.
Siddanth tried to walk away. The twelve deer followed him perfectly, matching his pace.
He sped up into a brisk walk. The deer broke into a trot.
The deer holding his shirt refused to let go. Two more deer flanked his right side, actively biting at his pockets.
Siddanth was actively retreating from a herd of petting-zoo animals.
"Krithika, stop recording and help me," Siddanth demanded, backing up quickly.
"I cannot help you," Krithika laughed loudly, keeping the camera focused on him. "You are the one holding the food. You are the target."
Siddanth tried to break the paper band on the crackers to distribute them faster. A large male deer lost its patience entirely. It reared up slightly on its hind legs and planted both its front hooves directly onto Siddanth's chest, trying to bite the stack of crackers out of his hand.
Siddanth lost his patience.
He turned and broke into a dead sprint across the grass.
The entire herd of twelve deer instantly gave chase. They sprinted after him, their hooves pounding against the turf.
Siddanth realized he could not outrun them while holding the objective. He executed a sudden, sharp turn. He ripped the paper bands off the crackers. He reeled his arm back and threw the entire stack of fifty wheat crackers across the grass like a massive handful of frisbees.
The crackers scattered everywhere.
The deer immediately abandoned the chase, pivoting sharply to swarm the scattered food on the grass.
Siddanth stopped sprinting. He stood fifty feet away, panting slightly, adjusting his t-shirt, which now had a large, wet bite mark on the hem.
Krithika walked over to him. She was laughing so hard she was wiping tears from her eyes. She held her phone up, replaying the video of him sprinting away from the deer.
"That was a tactical retreat," Siddanth defended himself, fixing his posture. "They organized an ambush. They used numbers."
"You threw the crackers like you were throwing a grenade," Krithika gasped, leaning against his arm for support. "I am sending this video to Sameer."
"If you send that video to Sameer," Siddanth warned her, taking her phone and locking the screen, "I will leave you in Osaka."
They spent the rest of the day touring the massive Todai-ji temple and looking at the giant bronze Buddha statue. By the late afternoon, they caught the train heading west.
They left the quiet, ancient atmosphere of Nara behind. They arrived in Osaka.
Osaka was the exact opposite of Kyoto. It was a sprawling, chaotic, incredibly dense metropolis. It was widely known as the "Kitchen of Japan," a city obsessed with heavy, flavorful street food and vibrant nightlife.
They checked into their hotel and immediately took the subway to the Dotonbori district.
The sun had completely set. Dotonbori at night was an assault on the senses. Massive, towering mechanized signs hung over the street—giant moving crabs, massive pufferfish, and fierce dragons. Millions of LED lights illuminated the pedestrian walkways.
They walked onto the Ebisu Bridge. Above them, towering over the canal, was the famous Glico Running Man billboard, glowing brightly in blue and red neon.
"I am hungry," Siddanth announced, looking at the endless rows of food stalls lining the street.
They walked up to a small, open-air stall. A vendor was standing behind a massive iron griddle filled with dozens of half-spherical molds.
He was making Takoyaki.
Siddanth watched the vendor work. The man poured a thin, savory batter into the molds. He dropped a piece of diced octopus, green onions, and pickled ginger into each mold. Then, using two metal picks, he rapidly flipped the batter in the molds, forming perfectly round, golden-brown spheres.
"Two orders," Siddanth requested, holding up two fingers.
The vendor scooped eight hot spheres into a cardboard boat. He brushed them with a thick, sweet brown sauce, drizzled them with Japanese mayonnaise, and sprinkled dried green seaweed and dancing bonito flakes over the top. He handed the boat to Siddanth, along with two wooden skewers.
Siddanth paid the vendor and walked over to Krithika, who was standing out of the main pedestrian traffic.
"They look good," Krithika said, looking at the steaming food.
Siddanth speared one of the round Takoyaki balls with his wooden skewer. He did not test the temperature. He popped the entire golden sphere directly into his mouth.
He bit down.
The exterior of the Takoyaki was crispy and warm. But the inside was a pocket of molten, boiling, semi-liquid batter directly off a heavily heated iron griddle.
The molten batter coated the roof of his mouth.
Siddanth's eyes went completely wide. He froze.
The pain was immediate and intense. He could not swallow it. It was too hot. He could not spit it out onto the street because they were standing in a crowded public walkway.
He opted for the only available emergency maneuver.
Siddanth opened his mouth wide and began executing rapid, heavy, forced exhales, blowing cold air directly over his burning tongue while frantically shifting the molten ball of batter from the left side of his cheek to the right.
"Hah! Hah!" Siddanth breathed heavily, his eyes watering.
Krithika looked at him. She saw his wide eyes and his panicked breathing technique. She realized exactly what had happened.
She did not laugh this time. She immediately unscrewed the cap of her cold water bottle and handed it to him.
Siddanth managed to swallow the slightly cooled batter. He snatched the water bottle, took a massive gulp of ice-cold water, and held it in his mouth to soothe the burn.
He swallowed the water. He let out a long, heavy breath.
"It retains heat," Siddanth rasped, his voice slightly hoarse.
"It came directly off a hot iron plate," Krithika pointed out, taking the wooden skewer from his hand. "You have to break it open and let the steam out first."
Krithika speared a Takoyaki ball. She carefully pulled it apart with her chopsticks. Steam billowed out of the center. She blew on it gently for thirty seconds before taking a small bite.
Siddanth picked up his own skewer, broke a ball open, and waited a full minute before trying again.
They walked further down the street. They stopped at another vendor and bought Okonomiyaki, a thick, savory cabbage and seafood pancake, cooked on a flat grill and covered in the same sweet sauce and mayonnaise.
They took the hot food and walked down the stone stairs to the pedestrian path running directly alongside the Dotonbori canal.
They found an empty wooden bench facing the water.
They sat down together. The neon lights from the towering billboards reflected brilliantly in the dark water of the canal, creating shifting patterns of red, blue, and yellow. Tour boats passed by quietly, the passengers taking photos of the skyline.
Krithika split the savory pancake with her chopsticks. She handed a piece to Siddanth.
He ate it carefully.
"This is completely different from Kyoto," Krithika observed, watching the crowds of people walking on the bridge above them. "Kyoto was completely silent. This city doesn't stop moving."
"Osaka is a working city," Siddanth agreed, finishing his food. "It is loud. It is chaotic."
He set the empty cardboard container down on the bench. He reached over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to ward off the chill of the night air.
"Do you prefer the quiet or the chaos?" Krithika asked, leaning her head against his shoulder, looking at the neon reflections in the water.
"I prefer the contrast," Siddanth replied smoothly. "You cannot appreciate the silence of the temple if you do not experience the noise of the street. It requires both."
They sat on the bench for an hour sharing street food and watching the vibrant energy of the city unfold around them.
The next evening was their final grand dinner in Japan.
Siddanth had instructed his concierge to secure a reservation at one of the highest-rated, most exclusive Teppanyaki restaurants in the Umeda district of Osaka.
They arrived at the restaurant. They were escorted past the main dining area and led into a highly secluded, private dining room. The room was dominated by a massive, flawless, polished iron griddle.
Siddanth and Krithika sat side-by-side at the counter, directly facing the iron plate.
A master chef, wearing a spotless white uniform and a tall chef's hat, bowed deeply as he entered the room.
Siddanth had explicitly informed the restaurant of their strict dietary requirements beforehand. There would be no beef, no pork, and no meat products of any kind cooked on their grill.
The restaurant had adapted flawlessly. To replace the traditional Kobe beef experience, the chef had sourced the absolute highest grade of premium seafood and rare mountain vegetables available in the country.
The chef began the performance.
Teppanyaki is not just cooking; it is culinary theater. The chef moved with flawless, rapid precision. He poured a small pool of high-quality oil onto the hot iron. He used his steel spatulas to scrape the grill, the metal clacking rhythmically against the iron plate.
The chef presented the primary ingredients on a wooden board. There were two massive, live spiny lobsters, giant tiger prawns, and a selection of extremely rare, highly aromatic Matsutake mushrooms.
He placed the giant tiger prawns on the grill. The sizzle was immediate and loud. Using nothing but the sharp edge of his spatula, the chef rapidly shelled the prawns, removed the tails, and diced the meat while it cooked. He tossed the pieces with garlic and a light soy glaze.
He served the hot prawns directly onto the ceramic plates resting in front of Siddanth and Krithika.
Siddanth picked up his chopsticks. He tasted the prawn. The execution was flawless. The seafood was incredibly fresh, the texture perfect, enhanced entirely by the high heat of the iron grill.
Next, the chef prepared the massive spiny lobsters. He split the shells, steaming the tender white meat under a brass dome before finishing it with a rich butter and lemon sauce. He grilled the rare Matsutake mushrooms next to the lobster, allowing them to absorb the savory flavors.
The entire meal was cooked directly in front of them. The chef rarely spoke, allowing the sound of the sizzling grill and his rapid knife skills to provide the entertainment.
As the chef finished the final course—a masterful bowl of garlic fried rice cooked with the remaining mushroom juices—he bowed respectfully and stepped back, allowing them to eat in private.
"This was a good choice," Krithika said, finishing her garlic rice.
"It was the correct way to end the trip," Siddanth agreed, setting his chopsticks down.
He turned in his chair to face her.
"We fly back tomorrow," Siddanth said.
Krithika nodded slowly. "Back to reality."
He reached across the table and took her hand.
"The honeymoon ends," Siddanth said. "But the marriage starts. We go back to our house. We do not have to hide from the cameras anymore. We do not have to coordinate secret meetings. We just go home."
Krithika looked at him. The thought of simply walking into a restaurant with him in Hyderabad, without fear of a scandal or a leaked photograph, felt liberating.
"I am ready to go home," Krithika smiled, squeezing his hand tightly.
Before they could go home, however, they had to shop.
The final day in Osaka was dedicated entirely to acquiring gifts and souvenirs. Siddanth had a very specific agenda.
They took the subway to Nipponbashi, the district known as Den Den Town. It was Osaka's version of Akihabara, completely dedicated to electronics, anime, manga, and collectibles.
Siddanth navigated the multi-story hobby shops with intense focus. He moved past the general merchandise and headed straight for the premium glass display cases.
He did not care about suitcase space or weight limits. He was flying a private jet.
He purchased a massive, highly detailed, limited-edition figure of Roronoa Zoro from One Piece. He bought a rare statue of Ichigo Kurosaki from Bleach.
He walked into a specialized prop store. He found a glass case displaying full-scale, master-forged, high-carbon steel replicas of Roronoa Zoro's three swords: the Wado Ichimonji, the Sandai Kitetsu, and the Shusui.
"I am taking all three," Siddanth instructed the store manager in Japanese.
Krithika watched as the store staff carefully boxed up the massive swords. Siddanth moved to the next aisle. He found an authentic, hand-woven replica of Monkey D. Luffy's straw hat. He bought it and immediately placed it on his head.
They walked into an anime apparel store. Siddanth walked down the aisles, pulling shirts off the racks with ruthless efficiency. He did not check prices. He grabbed more than fifty different T-shirts—featuring characters from Naruto, Bleach, Full Metal Alchemist, Death Note, One Piece, and Dragon Ball Z. He sorted them by sizes, preparing to distribute them to Sameer, Arjun, and Feroz back in Hyderabad.
Then, they walked into a massive, multi-level arcade.
The first floor was filled entirely with UFO Catchers—crane game machines.
Siddanth stopped in front of a specific machine. Inside the glass box was a highly detailed, officially licensed figure of Kakashi Hatake from Naruto. It was a prize-only figure, not available for retail purchase.
"I am getting that," Siddanth declared, adjusting the straw hat on his head.
He inserted a hundred-yen coin into the slot. He grabbed the joystick. He moved the metal claw directly over the box. He pressed the drop button. The claw descended, lightly brushed the top of the box, and retracted with absolutely zero grip strength.
"The claw tension is programmed to be weak," Krithika observed, leaning against the machine. "It is a game of chance, not skill."
"It is physics," Siddanth countered, inserting another coin. "You have to use the weak claw to push the box toward the drop chute. You do not lift it. You lever it."
He tried the lever technique. He failed.
He tried again. He failed again.
Siddanth spent twenty minutes at the machine. His competitive nature had entirely overridden his logical brain. He was a multi-billionaire CEO, and he was currently engaged in a bitter, hostile standoff with a plastic arcade claw.
"Sid, we can just buy it online," Krithika suggested after his seventh failed attempt.
"It is not about the figure anymore," Siddanth stated, staring intensely at the joystick. "It is about defeating the machine's algorithm."
He changed his grip on the joystick. He moved the stick with rapid, microscopic adjustments. He timed the swing of the claw perfectly. He hit the button.
The claw dropped. The metal prong hooked the absolute corner of the cardboard box. As the claw retracted, it flipped the heavy box completely over. The box tumbled down the plastic chute and landed in the collection tray with a loud thud.
Siddanth stepped back from the machine. He let out a breath.
"Calculated execution," Siddanth announced proudly, retrieving the box.
After Den Den Town, they took a taxi to Shinsaibashi, the premier fashion and cosmetics district. It was Krithika's turn.
They walked into the massive, multi-story department stores. Krithika moved through the high-end Japanese cosmetics counters. She picked up a small glass bottle of specialized night serum, checking the ingredients and the price tag. She debated putting it back on the shelf.
Siddanth stepped up beside her. He did not wait for her to decide. He handed his solid black credit card directly to the store manager.
"Pack the entire skincare line," Siddanth instructed calmly. "Everything she looked at."
"Sid, I don't need the whole line," Krithika protested quickly.
"You liked it," Siddanth said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We are getting it."
They moved to the fashion floors. Krithika found a rack of elegant, minimalist dresses. She held up three different colors, trying to choose the best one.
Siddanth walked up to the cashier.
"Pack all three," Siddanth ordered. "And pack the matching designer shoes she was looking at in the previous aisle."
Krithika realized she had zero control over the shopping budget. Siddanth refused to let her choose. If she touched an item, or even looked at it for more than three seconds, Siddanth immediately purchased it. He bought her dresses, premium makeup sets, imported perfumes, and handbags. This was because, until now, he had never taken her shopping like a normal couple, so he was fulfilling his heart's desire.
Siddanth provided the store managers with the details of their luxury hotel. The stores immediately dispatched the heavy cardboard boxes and shopping bags directly to the hotel's concierge desk.
That night, Siddanth stood in the lobby of their luxury hotel.
The head concierge, wearing a pristine suit, stood next to four massive luggage trolleys. Stacked on the first trolley were Krithika's sleek, black hard-shell suitcases.
Stacked on the other three trolleys were twelve massive cardboard boxes covered in 'Fragile' stickers, fifty packed t-shirts, three long sword cases, and several premium fashion bags.
The concierge looked at the mountain of boxes, then looked at Siddanth. He maintained his professional composure perfectly.
"Mr. Deva," the concierge said politely in English. "We have contacted your private flight crew at Kansai Airport. The logistics team will transport your items directly to the cargo hold of your aircraft."
"Thank you," Siddanth nodded, entirely unbothered by the volume of his purchases.
The next morning, they took the rapid airport train to Kansai International Airport.
They bypassed the crowded commercial terminals. They moved through the private aviation security channels and walked into the VIP departure lounge.
Through the massive glass windows of the lounge, they saw the sleek, dark blue NEXUS corporate jet waiting on the tarmac.
Siddanth and Krithika sat in the comfortable lounge chairs, drinking hot coffee while waiting for their boarding call.
The two weeks had flown by. They had navigated Tokyo, climbed the mountains of Hakone, explored the ancient temples of Kyoto, and survived the chaotic streets of Osaka.
A flight attendant walked over to them, bowing politely.
"Mr. and Mrs. Deva," the attendant said softly. "The aircraft is fully prepared for departure."
Siddanth stood up. He offered his hand to Krithika.
She took it, standing up beside him.
They walked down the jet bridge and boarded the private plane. The heavy door sealed shut behind them. The jet engines spooled up, emitting a high-pitched whine.
The aircraft taxied to the runway, accelerated rapidly, and took off into the morning sky, turning west to begin the long flight back to India. The honeymoon was officially over. It was time to return to Shamshabad and begin their lives.