Chapter Text
“Are you excited?” asks the dresser paid for by the lucky groom. Tiny little enamel sakura flowers dance on the end of an ornamental comb as it's placed into a girl's glossy black hair, its location chosen for premiere beauty and the most opportune chiming of its jingle jangling gold chains.
“Yes.” Three letters hide so much. Yes, excited to become a mother. Being a wife and all the duties that go with it bring more feelings of trepidation than they do excitement. There are many advantages and guarantees for a girl entering a marriage picked out by her parents, but still, sometimes the man isn't kind, and secret about it, and sometimes the girl's family don't care. And most often, in Japan at least, a sacred union dies on the vine, becoming loveless, sexless, two halves of one person attempting to live independently together.
Once her elaborate hairstyle is done, the last facet of her wedding costume is complete. The entire effect is one of simple, modest splendour becoming of a bride. It's not a Shinto outfit, but a Western wedding dress washed in the waters of the Land of the Rising Sun. Neither here nor there, much like its wearer. Climbing to her feet, Rin studies herself in a vintage full-length mirror standing in the corner of her parent's bedroom. Its wood is a smooth and shiny mahogany, its glass unblemished. Eventually she has to look herself in the face. Dissonance hits hard as soon her eyes meet their reflections. Marriage? Her? Surely not. She's not opposed to it, not at all, it's just such a girly thing to do, and she doesn't feel very girly. Never has.
The time comes to begin the walk into the next stage of her life. A short walk, interrupted by a trip in a car, and then another short walk. Her breath coats the glass of a backseat window, a Catholic church appearing in her vision suddenly, like it leapt out of mist. There is no mist though, only a sunny day and her pounding heart.
Her father helps her out of the car, and her mother makes sure her dress is still perfect, both their faces anxious, anxious that she not screw this up somehow before the deal is done. Her husband-to-be is rich, not superstar rich, but well off, and careful, frugal. He owns a business and a house and a car in Tokyo. That comfort and the duties of a wife and mother are expected to, hopefully will keep Rin out of trouble. There's a fatal flaw in the plan though, that being that her groom makes his home in Tokyo. Tokyo. Japanese L.A or New York. Japanese Johannesburg. Even if she doesn't go looking for trouble, it will certainly come looking for her in that vast place, if her past is anything to go by.
“You're lucky anyone wants you after that incident with the politician. Don't cause issues for kind Mr Sakura.” counselled Rin's mother repeatedly over the course of the engagement, often while she was paying for some beauty treatment for herself and her incurably tomboy, incurably Goth daughter. Rin's mother is the reason why her dress and wedding location are Western, because she's Irish. Rin's parents are the reason why their daughter is an aggressive rebel, because they are the same way, but somehow what is good for the goose is not good for the gander.
“Why does he want me though?” Rin used to ask, in response.
But her mother had no answer for that, and neither did Rin. Maybe it was the photos her parents sent when they heard the man was in the market for a wife. Good photos, even Rin can admit it. And he seemed to find her amusing the couple times they met, despite her troubled record. Sometimes she thinks she's not that bad looking, given the response men have to her. As to what she thinks of ‘kind Mr Sakura’, that's unimportant. What's important is that she be handed over to someone who can take care of her. Anyway, back to the incipient life change.
Shadow pools between the double doors of the church, a cool shadow on a warm spring day, the darkness preventing Rin from seeing the backs and faces of the expectant guests. The hot and potent scent of incense drifts through the portal, reminding her of a topic no one ever explained to her and which she learnt about through terrible bits and pieces derived from unsuitable sources - marital relations. Can't have a child without them. She supposes that and a need for help with his business is why she was chosen out of the who knows how many other options. Young and featuring wide hips, a large bust, and a meek but clever demeanour. It's not true that only women become broody. The man is at the age when men begin feeling the need for a baby or five.
Shards of brightness peer back at her as the interior of the sacred building takes shape, and camera flashes flash. For the moment she avoids looking towards the altar. Retro as heck, the famous wedding march begins playing, and it takes her everything she has not to pack out laughing. Here comes the bride, here comes the bride. What a joke. She bites her lip to stifle sniggers. Eyeballs float past, her father's arm stiff under her hand.
At her final destination, her groom arches a thin black eyebrow at her, and then Rin really does splutter and snort and press at her lips with a manicured hand already sporting chipped nail polish. Thank God for the veil. Groom? If you like men and not boys then he's nice to look at, and she has no complaints there, but probably her mother imagines she possesses at least five, because the man is over twenty years older than her, and people always imagine teen girls are exclusively into teen boys. Not so. At all. Nope, she's happy that there's not an uggo or fatso standing next to her. Now, to get her mind on the situation at hand. No one's going to be shedding any tears here.
“Do you, Sojiro Sakura, take this-”
Weirdo, thinks Rin. Do you, Mr Man, take this weirdo to be your lawfully wedded wife? To her immense surprise, the guy says yes. And then to her even greater surprise, she manages to eke out a positive response.
“Do you, Rin Amamiya, take this-”
Stranger. A stranger from a strange place. Maybe he means to sell her to the gun-and-girl running yakuza who rule the capital.
“I do.”
And just like that, an unbreakable bond forms. Rin's not gonna lie, she kinda likes the sound of that.
Well, she likes the sound of that, up until the man whose property she now is approaches and reaches for her veil. Touching his hand for the ring part was scary enough, but now he's proposing to kiss her in front of everyone?! Her?! Why must it be public?! What the heck? She's only spoken to him a couple times, a couple sentences. He mostly spoke to her parents, Rin sitting there like a problem kitten he was proposing to adopt. But all the worry in the world can't stop time, and the veil rises. Her new husband's pupils widen behind his glasses upon catching sight of her, and then his lips press to hers, the scent of coffee and smoke strong.
💒☕💒
“Please take care of me.” - Rin's first full and private statement to her other half. Man and girl have changed out of their fancy dress and gone through as much public celebrating as the former can stand, have done at least an hour's worth of sitting around accepting congratulations from relieved relatives and friends of Rin's family, and have then scurried off like thieves in the night, embarking on honeymoon, namely, a drive down to Tokyo in the man's vintage Porsche. It can't carry much luggage, but Rin's possessions, such as they are, have already been shipped off via train.
Sojiro, as he's called, looks aside at her, reddens slightly, and looks back at the road. “I married you, didn't I? What do you think I'm gonna do? Chop you up for ingredients and bury you under the floorboards?”
“It's happened before.”
“Not to me. Not to you either, by the looks of it.”
“Why did you marry me? You don't know me.”
“Knowing you is for later. I liked what I saw. That's all that matters.”
Alright. Okay. Well, Rin's always had that effect on men - Look first, ask questions never. Her powerful personality and extreme intelligence petrifies the average male. All they want is a pretty and fertile girl who is not a bitch. She can't fault them for it, but it sucks to have these 'extras' attached to her, which mean she's treated badly.
A thousand kilometres, half a day's straight driving. But of course the couple are not going to speed through the beauty passing them by, and they stop often for food and drink, and to awkwardly admire the cherry blossoms dotting various shrines, castles, and mountainsides, as well as to stretch their legs because sports cars are uncomfortable. Already rather anxious whenever her companion leans close or brushes up against her, Rin shivers and moves away. She doesn't want to give the wrong impression or start anything off on the wrong foot, but she's well aware of what's on his mind. It fills his eyes, especially when they dip below her neck.
“Here.” At a rest stop below a mountain he hands her a sakura flavoured ice cream cone then watches intently while she eats it. Her spirit droops slightly. It could be that he'll come to love her. That's always possible, and stranger things have happened.
The tolls on Japanese highways are significant, and Sojiro grumbles every time he's called upon to pay them, but pay he does and on they go. Rin's phone doesn't buzz, although she more than anything desires reassurance from her family, especially as the sun begins to dip towards the horizon and the car pulls into a luxury ryokan. Like the man has given her an itinerary, she knows how events will proceed. Dinner and drinks, then private time between a newly minted couple. Onsen in the morning. Most people go through the whole thing between men and women and appear no different afterward. Many people enjoy it, so it can't be anything fearsome. Still…she'd rather not be in such an intimate situation. Seeing a man naked might cause her to fall into a laughing fit and die. He seems like the type to demand his money back, complete with the truth as to why his bride perished on her wedding night. Just thinking about it threatens to bring on that laughing fit, forcing her to look out the window and bite her tongue. And then she'll need to sleep beside a stranger, who might do anything to her while she's unconscious.
“Hoo boy, what a day.” Before climbing out of the car and coming round to open her door, which he very gentlemanly has done every time they've stopped, Sojiro takes a moment to sigh, lean back in his seat, and adjust his hat, checking himself out in the rear view mirror in the process. Apparently he likes what he sees, because he flashes his eyebrows at his reflection and grins.
Rin says nothing, only watches him out of the corner of her eye. Odd man, like a character out of some old film. She wonders if he'll be gentle, or gluttonous. A man dressed that well? Driving this sort of car? She decides on gluttonous.
The hotel, as most luxury hotels, especially in Japan, is exquisite, calming, serene and beautiful. Her whole life being about him now, Rin merely gazes around while she waits for her husband to check in.
“Okay, come on.” Although he moves her along with a familiar touch to her lower back, Rin feels rather like a child following its parent along the clean smelling corridors of a home-for-hire, perhaps an inevitable situation for a young virgin accompanying an experienced rake.
💒☕💒
“Have a nap or something. Or check this out.”
A gorgeous calligraphed menu plops onto the polished black table Rin's sitting at. She picks it up, turning the pages but really focusing all her careful attention on the coffeeman. Yeah, he owns a cafe in Tokyo, a bit of an incongruous detail but it definitely suits him, and it must be very popular for him to look as flashy as he does. The suite possesses a fine view of a valley full of cherry blossom, and Rin decides to fix the sight in her mind and think of that when he comes to take what's his.
“Can I order whatever I like?”
“Within reason.”
So Rin ignores the traditional meal set and orders her favourite - toasted sandwiches with a side order of sushi. An absolutely atrocious choice, if Sojiro's expression is anything to go by. He, meanwhile, goes for curry, only to be disappointed with it. “Mine's way better.” he says, from his position across the posh little table. He speaks in such a young way that Rin has to smile, although he is young, physically, if not in looks. Definitely not in looks. Hard years full of dissipation have etched themselves into his skin, generating a louche, alcoholic visage. Not the stereotypical red nosed one, but its wan, wasted counterpart. The look that comes from spirits, not beer and wine. Still, he's very attractive, in a craggy way, and she wouldn't deny it if asked.
He doesn't ask.
Evening fragrance drifts in through the huge windows, bringing with it immense anxiety. More and more Rin watches Sojiro, watches for the smallest move that points to him deciding the time has come. Eventually it does.
“Have another.” He pours her some more champagne. Japan's laws are so deranged. She's old enough to marry, but not old enough to drink, at least not without a legal adult’s say so. She's old enough to marry and have children, but she's not legally grown up herself. The champagne is delicious, and it helps with the stress. Her tilting her head back to drink the last drops is the catalyst for hands to land on her shoulders, on the muscle between shoulder and neck. Her flinch is a weak one.
“You're a sturdy girl.” The man doesn't say that he likes her half-European sturdiness, but he must do, because he kisses her, and this second kiss is not fit for public consumption. The benefits of being with someone who knows what they're doing is that they know what they're doing, and Rin's nervous fumbling wins her points with him.
“Hey, let go. I'm not gonna hurt you.” he says, chuckling when she attempts to keep her clothes on while he works at removing them.
Fighting is a no, he might send her home, or hurt her, so Rin gradually does as she's told, and that earns her petting, petting the way a cat is petted, big hands smoothing over her hair and head and neck until she calms down.
“Don't be scared.” Sojiro says. Easy for him to say. Easy for any man to say.
“I'm not scared.”
“Yes you are. You're shaking.”
“You'd be scared too.”
“Is that a compliment?”
A knowing smile meets her gaze during the brief moments when she opens her eyes. It's captivating enough that she doesn't need to think of sakura, or, not of the plant version.
💒☕💒
As she suspected, a soak in private hot springs before breakfast is on the menu. Her husband has no shame, and walks from bed to bath without covering up. He's no film star, but that's never been a requirement in order for one person to find another aesthetically pleasing. Rin doesn't laugh, but neither does she follow his shameless lead, instead displaying a modesty which he enjoys.
“Bashful and bold. What a combination,” hands tug away the shield of fabric Rin had been keeping between herself and him. He looks her over, manhandles her, mapping the exquisite curves exclusive to women, a dehumanising glint of lust in his eyes, like fool's gold. “And beautiful. Last but not least.”
“I'm brave and brainy too.”
“Ah ha. Come on. Get in here.” He pulls her into the tub, his hairy forearms tickling her smooth skin, the volcanic water stinging the little wounds left by ‘love’, as people disingenuously call it. Of course seeing her naked means he wants more of the same, more, more, but that is one way to get real close to a person real fast, especially when you know this is it. That it's them and only them forever. The semi-hugs and the kisses are enjoyable, but for the rest Rin feels like she's his new chew toy, and she doesn't know if he is gentle with her or not. Judging from the small black fingerpaint bruises forming on her skin, maybe not. But who knows. Only he.
“Shame, poor little virgin. Your parents dumped you in my lap for being a pain in the ass,” he chuckles, when it's time for breakfast, which takes place at the hotel buffet because Sojiro likes a Western continental. “Eurgh.” he exclaims, over the coffee selection available. When it comes to food, he fills Rin's plate for her, which is nice.
“Thanks.” she says, when they take their seats in a private corner of the dining room, a very light and bright and high ceiling affair. His mockery would hit harder if she wasn't wrapped up in processing the last few hours. Girls at school said you turned into an adult after your first time, but she already felt like an adult. She does definitely feel more mature, but that's got nothing to do with intercourse. Any respect she might receive comes from the man with her, from him choosing to bestow his name on her, from him finding her attractive.
After fifteen minutes without either person speaking, Sojiro breaks the silence, his eyes flashing across the table. “Hey. Cheer up. Your life's all set. You don't gotta worry about what to do with yourself. Don't have to search for a man to look after you.”
“I'm not sad. Just…shocked.”
“You'll get used to it.”
After breakfast the new couple embark on a bonding exercise - hiking. Neither is really the hiking sort, but Rin is much more of an outdoor person than her rarefied life partner who looks at mud and rain like they're personal affronts.
“I'm looking forward to the beach resort.” Sojiro sighs, while walking ahead of his young bride up a narrow path, behaving more like a slightly hostile stranger than a lover. Such an arrangement will continue for quite some time.
“Me too, but I'm looking forward to Tokyo, too.” Rin says. Cherry blossoms are slippery under the feet, forcing her to be more careful. They're so pretty too. Scooping a handful up, she flings them at Sojiro's back, without him noticing.
“The novelty will quickly wear off, I promise you. And it's a breeding ground for trouble.” The stormy grey eye he swings round to pin her with says that she'd better not have any ideas about getting into trouble. More trouble, that is. Rin is aware her parents attempted to hide her past from him, but asking any person around her hometown would have brought it to light.
She wonders if he’ll beat her, like some husbands do. Probably. However she has a secret weapon - she won't necessarily hate such treatment.