So hello all, sorry for the long time between updates, almost a month! So as always thank you so much to those who have reviewed this story so far, it has helped immensely with trying to finish it. Also: if you leave reviews which I can't respond to I won't be using this space to respond to them. Sorry and thanks for leaving one at all :)
Okay in this chapter we've got the wedding. I left out the elaborate preparations for it, the getting dressed, etc, etc, because frankly I didn't feel like my research on that matter was quite up to par. I did find a few lovely sites which helped me piece together the ceremony but even those felt incomplete and so it's sort of vague and I apologize for that. But yes, traditional Shinto weddings are quite simple, no the bride and groom do not: kiss, exchange rings, or face each other, so don't complain that Sakura and Kakashi don't. Also I allude to the fact that Asuma's family is standing in for Kakashi's-that's because the families face one another but Kakashi doesn't have any family left, so his best friend stands in. Yeah.
I hope I didn't heap too much culture and too little context in this, but this is really all that I felt comfortable giving you (a slightly stringent review about doing proper research left my confidence a little shaken between last-update and this). I do hope I delivered...As always, the next update should be in a few weeks!
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Okay first off, please take a moment before you read this chapter to think about Japan and the tragedy which continues to unfold there.
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Enjoy!
For the rest of the winter when the family got up Ume taught Sakura how to put her hair up as was proper for a married woman as well as having her do the balances for the family income. She also tried, but in vain, to get Sakura to act authoritative with any hired help Masaki brought to work on the house or the grounds. Her daughter didn't seem to understand that she would need to quickly establish her place in her marriage and her household, but Ume tried her best in the time she had available to her.
Sakura's cooking also steadily improved to the point that Ume didn't feel the need to apologize to Masaki for it—he had, since the previous summer, been enduring Sakura's cooking constantly. She had made meals here and there for years, usually simple things which were easy to do, in the past, but never had the family been subject to them for longer than a few days. The days of Kakashi's visit they had only eaten the simplest of things, meals which Ume did not feel completely ashamed of on her daughter's behalf. It had been nice to see that even if Sakura never improved beyond her skills she wasn't going to starve her household for lack of anything edible being produced.
So as she packed things into the cart which Masaki had obtained, Ume tried to smile a little that she had prepared her daughter adequately for married life. She had taught the girl how to cook for three people—not only how to cook rice or how to cook fish, but how to manage household chores with preparing meals, how to cook by herself. She had also refreshed her daughter on what was expected of a good wife, taught her how to properly maintain the shrine for the family ancestors, as well as how to entertain guests of certain ranks. Ume hoped that Asuma's wife would help her with that last point, because Ume had entertained very few samurai in her home, and none as though they were from the same social rank.
The night before last she had even tried to enlighten her daughter about the physical aspect of marriage, red faced and stuttering her way through it. Ume strongly suspected that every woman's first night with her husband was different—her mother had spoken of it coolly, as though it were no different than sleeping beside someone, whereas she and Masaki had bumbled through theirs awkwardly, painfully, and comically—they each sheepishly laughed at themselves in retrospect, having gotten better at it as well as having learned to enjoy it in the ensuing years. So she hadn't told Sakura much, preferring to focus on how to make the experience nicer, as well as ways to tell if she were with child. By the end of her discussion, Ume's cheeks felt so hot she was sure water would boil on them. Sakura's looked much the same.
And now today she was helping her daughter pack the belongings she would be taking with her to Fujimi. Ume didn't realize she was crying until Masaki—passing by her after having deposited a heavy trunk in the wagon—wrapped one arm around her waist and wiped her tears with the other hand. If he could get through this then she could as well—he worried for his daughter so much, and this must have been hard on him to watch her go.
He looked very nice, dressed so seriously in black hakama and haori, and she kept sneaking glances toward him. The priest ticked a frown at her but kept going. This was too serious an affair to make a scene out of something so little. Sakura was glad, the horrors of the morning and the day before had been alleviated for the most part by the sight of Kakashi.
Her family had arrived a week ago, initially leaving her and her mother at the inn while her father travelled out to Kakashi's home to leave some of her things there. That same afternoon a sour looking Tenzou arrived with a note from Kakashi for her saying that if he found the time in the midst of everything he would come visit her. Sakura couldn't help but smile at each word, carefully reading and rereading the short letter—Ume had only caught her at it once and had recommended that she save it carefully if she wanted to keep it.
It was far more dear to her than anything which Ryo had ever written to her, and she couldn't even begin to understand why. Despite her best efforts, Kakashi's face had again been forgotten in the hustle and bustle of her daily life and she could only recall his eyes and the color of his hair—not even its style had survived in her memory, only the timbre and cadence of his voice. Ryo's hopeful face, however, was indelibly etched in her mind, particularly the day months before—in the fall—when he had realized that Sakura was engaged. He had come around the back of the house as she sat on the porch and struggled to put her hair up as her mother was teaching her—there were easier styles, but she wanted the style her mother had adopted to best contain as well as show off her strangely colored hair.
Something about the determined twist to her mouth and the generally ruffled look her hair had taken on (in protest probably), and it had finally clicked in the young man's head. There had been a long awkward moment as she tried to fix her hair as well as properly bow to the village head's son and as he tried to find the words to express himself. There were none and he had fled around to the front of the house, and Sakura had winced at his hurried apology to her father.
Sakura had thought it strange that she didn't feel more towards Ryo's befuddlement and later pain—she felt terrible that he was taking her engagement as badly as he was, but it wasn't as though he could have married her, and at least she was leaving the village rather than bringing him more pain daily. Most importantly she wasn't marrying Uchiwa Sasuke, Ryo's eternal and hated rival. Ume had stated that perhaps since she was stuck with Kakashi she was finding the good in the situation rather than the bad, and that she was proud of her daughter for such maturity.
But Sakura didn't think that that was it at all—she could have begged her father to marry her off to some other man and he probably would have done it, her pickings would have been quite slim but not non-existent. She rather thought that she and Kakashi had managed to build a little affection for one another during their short meetings and that it was because of this that his note meant more to her than a hundred Chinese love poems.
That, however, had been the beginning of her time in Fujimi. The rest of the week was spent preparing for the wedding as well as the few guests who were coming, and fending off those who attempted to be nasty or mean to her. It had mostly been fine until the morning before last when a woman had called Sakura a demon to her face, and the rest of that day and yesterday were simply awful as more and more of the Fujimi villagers stared blatantly at her as her family began to prepare.
She had never been more grateful for the privacy that her wedding would afford her, held in the seclusion of the shrine outside the village. She was surrounded by her family as well as those who stood in stead for Kakashi's, and they were all at least trying to make this day what it should be. So Sakura took a deep breath and forced herself to not keep glancing over at Kakashi because she was ruining her family's efforts at a perfect ceremony—but she couldn't help that until it was Kakashi's turn to speak she was perfectly, horribly, bored.
Kakashi's voice was beautiful and strong as he recited his commitment to her, to his marriage to her, and Sakura was glad for the white powder on her face because she was surely blushing. He wasn't just agreeing to being bound to her, he was stating that his family was willing to be bound to hers. It was like a romance story like her few friends in Iimori used to read, a man and his family looking past the faults in the woman's—and it was happening to Sakura.
The two miko aiding the priest stepped forward with the three cups, presenting the smallest one first to Kakashi and then to Sakura. As the bitter taste of sake flooded her mouth Sakura was glad that her father had had her taste some of his from time to time over the winter, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to keep her poise, she might have even spit it out. It was a different, stronger brew than her father drank, but luckily the second two sips were not as much of a shock as the first one. The taste of the sake was almost revolting, but it did warm her tongue and make the next two cups—and therefore the next six sips—far more bearable.
The sounds of the miko and attendants offering sake to their families could be heard, the rustling of clothing as sake was lifted to lips to mark the union of the two families as well as herself and Kakashi. For all that she was surrounded she felt incredibly alone for a moment, not being allowed to move away from her spot for another minute or more. Sakura continued to hold her ground until the sakaki twigs were nudged into her hands for her to make her offering to the gods.
And then Kakashi was taking her hand and turning her to follow the miko out of the sanctuary and out of the shrine. From there the small wedding party walked to the main Sarutobi estate home, the place being insisted upon by the village lord both because he was standing in as Kakashi's family as well as it being the closest residence to the shrine. Sakura leaned secretly on Kakashi's arm while her mother helped her with the trailing of her kimono—his warmth and her mother's closeness were comforting.
As they entered the Sarutobi home ahead of their guests she was separated from Kakashi in order to change, to put on the brilliant red uchikake which he had given her. When she returned she was seated next to him to pick at her food between speeches delivered and to try and contain her smiles at him, it was unseemly to smile too much on such a serious occasion. Sakura was glad for the next change in kimono because it allowed her to change into a pale green one with a trailing of herons and flowers on it, her favorite of her formal kimono and suited to the occasion as herons and the Hatake house were often tied together.
She was also glad to wear it because Kakashi couldn't keep his eyes off her for the rest of the celebration dinner.
She and Kakashi rode home with Asuma and Kurenai in the growing twilight rather than walking, following her parent's wagon for some of the journey until they pulled off at the inn and Asuma's horse kept pulling them forward through town. Kakashi held one of her hands in both of his, smiling a little whenever a jolt in the road had her squeezing his in surprise. They didn't speak much, and Sakura supposed that that was because it was a little awkward to deliver a newlywed couple to their wedding night—she would have to apologize to Kurenai the next time she saw her, for causing such a discomfort.
Once they rounded the bend and saw both Kakashi's farmland as well as the house Asuma lived in with his wife, Kakashi leaned forward to speak to his longtime friend.
"Asuma, take the road to your home, Sakura and I will walk across the field home. There isn't any sense in forcing your horse to make a long trip even longer than it already is." He was greeted with a hearty laugh but a nod in assent as response, Asuma's big hands pulling and directing the wagon towards the road which led to his own home rather than Kakashi's. She wondered briefly why Kakashi would ask such a favor, but didn't dwell on it. Instead she giggled to herself that his hair was orangy-blue in the last rays of the sunset, and her smile actually broke out when he shot her a questioning look. Your hair she mouthed and was rewarded with a smile.
It was growing colder as the sun fled fast and faster, leaving them in semi-darkness by the time they came to a slow stop in front of Asuma's home. Kakashi helped her down and then helped Kurenai down, Asuma urging the horse forward to the small stable and leaving the three of them alone.
"Thank Asuma for me for helping my wife and I return home, Kurenai, it was far too long of a walk otherwise," Kakashi said with a smile and a small bow. Kurenai smiled and returned the gesture before saying her goodbyes and heading into her house. Asuma waved at them from the stable as they started to walk in the direction where a few lights shone at Kakashi's house. The night was quiet as they walked along the path towards those lights. Sakura put her arm around Kakashi's to have an excuse to walk closer to him in the growing cold, and she tried to control the butterflies in her stomach as she remembered the ease with which he had referred to her as his.
"I told Tenzou to make some dinner for us, in case we didn't actually get a chance to eat in between all of the politeness earlier," Kakashi said, breaking the comfortable silence which had settled on them. She rested her head briefly on his shoulder before straightening again.
"Thank you Kakashi, I've barely eaten all day." This drew a laugh out of him.
"I noticed earlier, every time you were about to take a bite someone stood up to give a speech and you would just set down your food, made of politeness and attentiveness—although I suppose I was in the same situation," he said in what he probably thought was a consoling voice, Sakura decided to tease him since he was just inches from doing it himself.
"But you got to try to eat whenever I went to change, I didn't have that chance!"
"I did not! They made me drink whenever you were out of sight! I was glad that you weren't going to change again, when you came back with the green kimono," and he trailed off a little at that. Sakura didn't say anything, she didn't know what to say—they had gone from playfully teasing each other to something else too quickly for her to keep up.
"You were beautiful in that, Sakura, I wish you could wear it again."
She smiled, a quick, soft little smile to lament that beautiful kimono. That kimono would be put away now that she was married, and she would wear more severe colors in darker tones. She had worn it so that Kakashi could see it, to see how it complemented everything about her. It was meant to get him to admire her, and it had apparently worked. Sakura fidgeted one of her fingers on his sleeve, searching for something to say.
"What was this secret that kept you here and away from town this week?"
"That you'll see soon enough, and until then I won't say a word about it," he said archly.
"Then I won't serve you any fish for your breakfast tomorrow, Kakashi," she replied in an excellent mimic of his tone. They managed their aloof expressions for a few paces before Sakura started giggling, turning her face into his sleeve to hide them, but Kakashi wasn't much behind her in letting out his own chuckles.
"You probably don't even live close enough to a stream to have fish in the morning," she managed to say once she felt a bit more composed—not that there was anyone watching her other than Kakashi, they were still far out in the field he was leading them across, despite being close enough to see distinct outlines around Kakashi's house.
"Oh we do, I usually make Tenzou go get one or two. I'm sure he'd be happy to get them for you as well—especially if you mention that he won't have to cook them."
"Tenzou what?" a voice called out from the garden, obscured by the high fence around it. Sakura laughed at his paranoia, noting to herself that it would be fun to play pranks on him to a certain extent—but not to the degree to which Kakashi seemed to. Her new husband, she suspected, had no qualms against early morning frog encounters with late-sleeping futon occupants and she prayed to the spirits that she would wake up before him most mornings to avoid any such encounters. It was spring after-all, he would have no trouble finding one, and he would afterwards have no trouble effortlessly denying he had anything to do with it.
"You're going fishing tomorrow morning, that's 'Tenzou what,'" Kakashi called back, making no change in the pace of his walking. Instead he secured her arm closer to his in unabashed comfort at being so close to another person. Sakura appreciated the new warmth, because it was getting to be actually cold outside, but envied his ability to integrate her so easily into his personal space—she was still flushing red whenever his hip brushed against her clothing. As they rounded the fence and stepped into the courtyard she glanced at the space where she had agreed to become his wife, and the spot they had agreed to plant a tree in the coming fall. Everything important in her entire life was going to happen on this land, in this house it seemed.
Tenzou was on the porch waiting for them with a lantern, leading them into the house where he had a hearty rice porridge, okayu, being kept hot on the fire he had going. After being out in the night's chill it was a definite improvement to sit down, and have some actual food. Kakashi didn't immediately sit down, disappearing through a shoji, taking a lantern with him. She and Tenzou sat in awkward silence for those few minutes, not eating out of politeness and habit, and not talking because they were without anything to converse about. Servants didn't ask the new wife of the family head "And how was your wedding today, Sakura-san?" and Sakura had no idea what the new wife even said to servants period.
When Kakashi returned he had with him a length of cloth draped over his arm, cloth revealed to be a beautiful dark blue haori which he helped Sakura into before settling down himself. He was wearing his own coat in much the same way, and in the same color. She didn't have time to thank him before Tenzou was handing her a bowl of the okayu, so she settled for smiling at both of them as she waited for Kakashi to start eating. It felt almost natural here in front of the day-old fire, warm from the fire, the padded haori around her shoulders, and the hot food. By the end of their short meal she was feeling languid from the heat, as well as drowsy—it was barely an hour after the last sunlight fled the sky, leaving the valley in darkness, and she was already waning.
Somehow Kakashi noticed or knew, because he was soon helping her up and leading her farther into the house, guided by a lamp he took, held in the hand not supporting her. She heard his murmured orders to Tenzou to only start making breakfast if Kakashi told him to before the brown haired man shut the shoji door between them. Kakashi opened another shoji to what was obviously a bedroom by the look of the things inside it. Sakura fought off her drowse for a moment to think clearly about the last few hours.
"You promised me I would see what kept you, and you've not," she murmured as she shut the shoji behind her and moved to help him lay out the futon and the blankets. Secretly she was pleased at the fact that he had pillows rather than stiff headrests—the night before she had barely slept because of a particularly ill-fitting headrest the hairdresser had forced her to sleep on so as to not mess up her freshly coiffed and waxed hairdo. The entire night she had thanked the gods that her husband didn't have the income to support professionally prepared hairstyles, that this was likely to be the last time she ever had to endure the hot wax and pulling and poking and prodding of an unsympathetic hand.
"It will be far better to see it in daylight, Sakura, I promise. Now, sit down," and so she did and he knelt down behind her and a twinge of nervousness flashed through her for an instant. He did remember their conversation over the winter, didn't he?
"Is there anything I can do to help you take this down," he said, touching the end of one of the kanzashi her own mother had worn to her wedding. Sakura ducked her head and carefully considered the question, knowing some of it would only be solved with the application of scalding hot water. The pins, all of the pins, as long as he doesn't mind how bad the hair will look. She would have to wake up very early the next morning to ensure her hair was presentable when her parents visited her for the first time—there was another thrill of something akin to nervousness but also excitement, they would be visiting her not as Sakura their Daughter but as Sakura Kakashi's Wife.
"If you could help with the combs and the pins I can get the rest when I get up in the morning. It's going to look strange, though, some of it is waxed into place and some of it isn't." Please don't change your mind about me now, she prayed.
Sakura's skin flinched and she almost jumped when he laid a hand on her shoulder and another on the side of her head but she tilted her head where he wanted it to be so he could see the combs properly. And then began the ginger process of taking out her hair ornaments as well as anything else that would easily come out. By the end Sakura's scalp was aching as long-pulled hairs were pulled new directions by gravity, but her head felt pounds lighter and her neck was suddenly able to move like she felt it should.
It was that same neck that Kakashi re-exposed by sweeping her hair away, leaning in to just almost trace his lips up her shoulder to her ear. He never quite touched her skin but something about his closeness electrified every hair on her neck and when he turned her head just a little bit towards his there was no thought in her mind about his statement months ago in the dead of winter, there was only the want and the warmth of his chest so near to her back, his hands on her shoulder and chin.
But apparently he wasn't quite so forgetful of himself because rather than pressing even closer to her he kissed her softly on her jaw before drawing her down to lay beside him under the blankets they had set out with the futon. His arms were wrapped around her as she fell asleep and Sakura could hear his heartbeat in her dreams that night. She was this man's wife, and he genuinely cared for what she wanted, what she needed. Somehow she knew that if she were less uncomfortable about their wedding night months ago, a very different activity would have followed his short, sweet kiss to her jawbone.
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