Arranged Marriage: Chapter 1 (complete)
After reading a considerable amount of SasuNaru arranged marriage fics where Naruto plays the cliched main reciprocate of the readers pity in some angst filled, tear jerking tale as a pencil dicked, submissive manbitch to Sasuke-teme (who he is hopelessly in love with since child, and doesn’t even SEE HIM!). Only to be saved from a life of abuse and continuous meaningless sex (in which Naruto ALWAYS bottoms) by the internally suave Itachi-sama (the admirer from afar), and runs away with him after a very brief inner conflict over his supposed love for Sasuke. And after they run away together Sasuke finally realizes the error of his ways and goes all emo at having lost the LOVE OF HIS LIFE and thus endeavors to take his own life and dies in a bathtub of hot water after slitting his own wrists. RIIIIIIIGHT. So here’s my take on that. Enjoy.
*************
Disclaimer: Trust me if I owned them, you’d know.
Warning: Badly written un-beta’d crack. Do not take the following content to seriously. Flames are discouraged.
The wedding hadn’t been much at all.
Just a gathering of mutual family members, Namikaze-Uzumaki’s on one side, Uchiha’s on the other. All gathered and squashed in the confines of a small shrine where the ceremony took place.
Sasuke had tried not to appear surly as he stood at the altar. Though it was a feat considering, he was forcibly being married to a failure of a man.
Uzumaki Naruto, a blond haired, blue eyed twenty-three year old (of questionably Asian lineage) was his new husband. A five foot seven inch, baby faced, obnoxiously loud mouthed thing that only came up to Sasuke nose.
A so called aristocrats son, though Sasuke avidly believed no self respecting member of the aristocracy would be caught wearing that shade of orange in public. Unless he was one of the ‘eccentric’ types. Or retarded.
Sasuke leaned more toward retarded as his reason.
His husband, (and oh, how he loathed the man as much as the word) was currently chucking it up with a girl from his side of party. A pink haired thing, Sakura he heard being called (how common) laughed alongside him. They were dancing up a storm on the dance floor, something Sasuke refused to indulge in one; because it made him look like a full and two; marriage was too solemn an occasion to have fun.
Sasuke didn’t even know why there was dancing at all; he specifically recalled saying no to it when planning the wedding. Naruto must have pulled some strings. Called a DJ in last minute before Sasuke could intercept the request. That basterd. He was pissing Sasuke off already.
Sasuke painfully looked away when Naruto made a move that defied all physical laws and turned his attention onto the Uchiha half of the party. They played their parts well, sitting stony faced and disapproving at their respectable places. Flashing glares at the uproarious adjacent party.
Naruto’s grandparents were already drunk and tumbling over each other. The grandfather, Jiraiya, (or Pervert by most) was telling a sordid story to the others over his fifth bottle of sake, as his wife, Tsunade, glared at him over her breasts.
At a long rectangular table, directly across the long hall sat the Elders of both clans; the Uzumaki’s, Namikaze’s, and Uchiha‘s. The most influential clans in Konoha now all joined together through marriage. All except one of course: Uchiha had yet to rope in Hyuuga.
His father, Fugaku, the formidable form in the far corner, was what appeared to be a pleasurable enough conversation with his newest business partner.
Minato Namikaze, an older and by far better looking replica of his son, was the leading councilman in Konoha. And the unfortunate reciprocate of Fugaku’s man-crush. Fugaku had looking for a chance, any chance to make a deal with the Namikaze’s since he’d taken over the family business some thirty years before.
Fugaku was all proud father and gracious host as he poured the other man yet another glass of champagne. He never showed so much interest in any single person since the bottom fell out of the ‘Itachi plan’ years before.
What made Sasuke smirk at his fathers expense however, was that though Minato-san indulged in polite chatter with Fugaku, his main focus was on his son on the dance floor. Naruto at that point had switched partners and was in the middle of twirling the poor girl around in the air by the waist.
A good half of the party cringed when she shrieked that everybody could see up her skirt. Sasuke scoffed; she shouldn’t have worn a cocktail dress to a wedding, it she didn’t want people to see her panties. He scoffed again when that same girl began to beat Naruto over the head with a stiletto for embarrassing her.
Sasuke looked down at his steak knife, wondering if it was sufficiently sharp enough to take his own life with. Or, more preferably, someone else’s.
“You shouldn’t look so happy, baby brother, you could strain something.” Itachi slid into Naruto’s unoccupied seat beside Sasuke, leaning in an inch from ear and whispering his words so softly a shiver ran down Sasuke’s spine.
“What do you want from me, Itachi?”
“The usual, but I’ll set that aside for the occasion and wish you my congratulations.” the older man said archly, his lips brushing Sasuke’s jaw before he pulled away slowly. Itachi leaned back in his chair casually, surveying the dance floor with vague interest.
Sasuke tilted his head thoughtfully.
“You must be absolutely euphoric right now. Watching me wallow in my own self pity as my new husband,” he cast a brief disdainful look toward the dance floor where his husband had switched partners, again. “disgraces are now conjoined family names. This ought to give you great wanking material for later on tonight.”
Itachi turned his eyes to his brother with a sardonic little smirk. “What sort of person would I be if I got off on your misfortune?”
“You would be Itachi Uchiha.” Sasuke replied dryly. An eerie twinkle had come into Itachi’s eyes as he stared at Sasuke unblinkingly. The others mouth curled, like wanted to say something more but smothered it with a smirk instead.
Suddenly, Itachi leaned forward and kissed him shortly, placed a white and crimson envelope in his hand, thick with bills and stood.
“You should try being more optimistic, Sasuke.” Itachi said, staring down at Sasuke sagely, making Sasuke want to stab him just once with the steak knife. “considering your chosen husband could be much worse.”
Itachi strode off purposely, ignoring whomever had decided to call his name as he passed as left the hall with a graceful air befitting any Uchiha.
Sasuke let himself consider his brothers words. He supposed he could count himself as lucky. His current spouse could me much worse, when his others suitors were put into consideration. The way Sasuke figured, he would rather be with a multibillion dollar pain in the ass, than an equally valuable fate spouting pissy twat (Neji Hyuuga was the ban of his existence, the epitome of all things insufferable in Sasuke book).
Yes, Sasuke conceited, as Naruto’s laugh echoed from across the hall, his spouse could have been so much worse.
**********
After the initial uproar of the kekkon hiroen died down the party began to disperse the guest gave their expected Shugi-Bukuro to the receptionist along with a few unexpected western style wedding gifts.
Haruno Hotels provided the newlywed suite, free of charge, for the much anticipated (for who, Sasuke wasn’t sure) wedding night. The consummation of their union.
They had to lock and bolt the door behind them to actually keep the elders from standing over the bed and watching to make sure they went though with it. Their union was imperative to the future of Uchiha Corp., the elders had made it quite clear, so much so that Sasuke was quick to realize that it was far more important to the Uchiha’s than the Namikaze-Uzumaki’s. This meant the hopes and future of Uchiha corp. was riding on Sasuke in the most literal sense.
With that burden, among others Sasuke set about his wedding night with a rising trepidation.
Naruto stared at Sasuke’s reflection in the suites lavish floor to ceiling windows, with his own rising trepidation. Now that he was alone with Sasuke, Naruto realized that nothing after the required ‘I do’s’ had been spoken between them.
Nervously, Naruto glanced at the back of Sasuke’s head, the view he’d been subject to from the moment the elders escorted them into the suit. Sasuke sat rigid as a corpse, his back purposely turned to the other man and staring with great interest at the carpet.
“Feels kind of weird being here, huh?” Naruto laughed nervously, paying avid attention to the way the street light flickered outside of their suite window. Sasuke, driven by some unknown masochistic force, turned to Naruto almost thoughtfully.
“How so, Uzumaki-san?” Sasuke said as placating as he had ever heard his mother speak to his father.
Naruto shoot him a brief heated look. “My name’s Naruto.”
“Yes, I know. Would you be so kind as to answer my question?”
Naruto bounced from heel to toes, looking very shy, his hands shoved in the pockets of his disheveled tuxedo.
The fool had insisted on a western tuxedo even though the whole ceremony had been conducted to a traditional Japanese theme. He’d been even more of an eyesore than usual in an all black tux with matching orange handkerchief and tie beside Sasuke’s elaborate montsuki haori hakama.
The petulant desire to kidney punch the blond boiled to surface once more.
“This consummating,” Naruto waved a hand at the massive four poster bed. “Business. After everyone made such a huge deal about it. Kind of take the romance out of things.”
“Are trying to tell me that you can’t perform under pressure, Uzumaki-san.” Sasuke jabbed dryly, his smirk belying his viscous intent. He knew his comment hit the bull’s-eye when Naruto sputtered so hard he’d forget to demand Sasuke call him ‘Naruto’.
“What?!”
Sasuke stood briskly, walking over to the low coffee table in front of the luxurious leather sofa, one of many accommodations offered in their suite, and poured a glass of cold water from a convenient pitcher. He offered it to his floundering husband, preying he did not choke because given Sasuke’s obvious hostility toward him, the Uzumaki’s would be quick to jump on accusations of murder, and that simply would not do.
“The consummation does not have to be tonight, Uzumaki-san. We could wait until tomorrow perhaps, when the pressure isn’t so great and you’ll find yourself more able to perform.” Sasuke smirk grew at the way Naruto’s eyes bulged from their sockets. He held up the glass of water obligingly, making sure their fingers did not graze as Naruto made a hasty grab for it.
“I can perform just fine, thank you!” Naruto croaked after he regained his barring, than blushed furiously when Sasuke raised an eyebrow at him.
“Oh. I’m sure you can, but I wouldn’t dare put anymore more pressure on you.” Sasuke replied pseudo-sympathetically and refilled Naruto’s cup.
Naruto glared so hard Sasuke almost felt singed by it.
Sasuke smiled serenely nonetheless: “Shall we get ready for bed then?”
Naruto was quickly at a loss for words again. Sagely, Sasuke took the glass from him and placed neatly atop the try from which it came beside the pitcher and strolled toward one of the adjoining bathrooms. Wholeheartedly believing Naruto would not follow.
After an hour long shower, which Naruto finds completely unreasonable since Sasuke is so small, and surely it doesn’t take an hour to wash a body that lanky, Sasuke emerged squeaky clean and in a long kimono bathrobe. Naruto rolled his eyes at him as he passed; of course Sasuke would stick to the Japanese theme, and gathered his toiletries for his own much shorter shower.
How anyone could remain so formal, even just going to bed was ridicules, Naruto thought. He unlike Sasuke wore a worn pair of trackies and a shirt more for his comfort than Sasuke’s. Not bothering to ask which sided the other wanted, Naruto plunked onto the bed with overdone exaggeration.
Sasuke hesitated as he climbed into bed, facing Naruto.
“Once again we don’t have to anything you’re not comfortable with Uzum-.” he hastily corrected himself at the threat of Naruto opening his mouth. “Naruto.”
Sasuke turned his back to him on the bed, rationalizing with himself that it had nothing to do with him rather chocking himself with a gym sock than being touched by that imbecile.
If Sasuke were to be honest with himself, which he rarely was, he’d admit that intimacy sickened him beyond redemption. In fact, most things sickened him, intimacy just happened to be the worst of them.
He’d very well be alone, free to make his own chooses and lifestyle, than have to share it with another human being.
He didn’t understand why he couldn’t’ just have a cat.
But no, you can’t breed with a cat, unless one happened to be into bestiality, which Sasuke defiantly wasn't. And the council had thought a union between Namikaze-Uzumkai and Uchiha would be endlessly beneficial. Sasuke may have agreed but, really, they could have done better than Naruto.
Frankly in Sasuke’s opinion being married to Naruto was along the same vein as bestially anyway.
Sighing, Sasuke reached over to the bedside nightstand to turn of the light before snuggling under the covers. Naruto did the same; twisting and turning for several moments on his end, grumbling as he tried to find a comfortable position much to Sasuke’s mounting irritation. When he did find one he sighed and settled in much to his luck because Sasuke had been heartbeat from bashing his head in with a lamp.
“Good night Sasuke.” the other man whispered, sounding almost human and much less annoying than he had the entire day.
Sasuke waited an entire minute before replying. “Good night, Naruto.”
****************************
Note: I’m a coma whore, don’t judge me to much on it. I just love putting coma’s everywhere, it makes me happy. Don’t expect me to be constant with this or anything, it just some crack I wrote to entertain myself while I tried to come up with the next Chapter of Café Loki.
I wouldn’t hold breath though guys, it slow coming. So enjoy the crack, it could be all you see for a while.
Shugi-Bukuro: Envelopes of Money Customarily given to the Receptionist at the end of the wedding receptionist as gifts to the newlyweds. It’s preferred that guests use pretty, unwrinkled bills for the occasion.
Montsuki haori hakama: Traditional Wedding robe worn by the groom, and sense Sasuke isn’t a girl he would not be wearing a kimono to his wedding.
Kekkon hiroen: The wedding reception conducted in whatever way the newlyweds religions happened to be at either a shrine or wedding hall
*************
Disclaimer: Trust me if I owned them, you’d know.
Warning: Badly written un-beta’d crack. Do not take the following content to seriously. Flames are discouraged.
The wedding hadn’t been much at all.
Just a gathering of mutual family members, Namikaze-Uzumaki’s on one side, Uchiha’s on the other. All gathered and squashed in the confines of a small shrine where the ceremony took place.
Sasuke had tried not to appear surly as he stood at the altar. Though it was a feat considering, he was forcibly being married to a failure of a man.
Uzumaki Naruto, a blond haired, blue eyed twenty-three year old (of questionably Asian lineage) was his new husband. A five foot seven inch, baby faced, obnoxiously loud mouthed thing that only came up to Sasuke nose.
A so called aristocrats son, though Sasuke avidly believed no self respecting member of the aristocracy would be caught wearing that shade of orange in public. Unless he was one of the ‘eccentric’ types. Or retarded.
Sasuke leaned more toward retarded as his reason.
His husband, (and oh, how he loathed the man as much as the word) was currently chucking it up with a girl from his side of party. A pink haired thing, Sakura he heard being called (how common) laughed alongside him. They were dancing up a storm on the dance floor, something Sasuke refused to indulge in one; because it made him look like a full and two; marriage was too solemn an occasion to have fun.
Sasuke didn’t even know why there was dancing at all; he specifically recalled saying no to it when planning the wedding. Naruto must have pulled some strings. Called a DJ in last minute before Sasuke could intercept the request. That basterd. He was pissing Sasuke off already.
Sasuke painfully looked away when Naruto made a move that defied all physical laws and turned his attention onto the Uchiha half of the party. They played their parts well, sitting stony faced and disapproving at their respectable places. Flashing glares at the uproarious adjacent party.
Naruto’s grandparents were already drunk and tumbling over each other. The grandfather, Jiraiya, (or Pervert by most) was telling a sordid story to the others over his fifth bottle of sake, as his wife, Tsunade, glared at him over her breasts.
At a long rectangular table, directly across the long hall sat the Elders of both clans; the Uzumaki’s, Namikaze’s, and Uchiha‘s. The most influential clans in Konoha now all joined together through marriage. All except one of course: Uchiha had yet to rope in Hyuuga.
His father, Fugaku, the formidable form in the far corner, was what appeared to be a pleasurable enough conversation with his newest business partner.
Minato Namikaze, an older and by far better looking replica of his son, was the leading councilman in Konoha. And the unfortunate reciprocate of Fugaku’s man-crush. Fugaku had looking for a chance, any chance to make a deal with the Namikaze’s since he’d taken over the family business some thirty years before.
Fugaku was all proud father and gracious host as he poured the other man yet another glass of champagne. He never showed so much interest in any single person since the bottom fell out of the ‘Itachi plan’ years before.
What made Sasuke smirk at his fathers expense however, was that though Minato-san indulged in polite chatter with Fugaku, his main focus was on his son on the dance floor. Naruto at that point had switched partners and was in the middle of twirling the poor girl around in the air by the waist.
A good half of the party cringed when she shrieked that everybody could see up her skirt. Sasuke scoffed; she shouldn’t have worn a cocktail dress to a wedding, it she didn’t want people to see her panties. He scoffed again when that same girl began to beat Naruto over the head with a stiletto for embarrassing her.
Sasuke looked down at his steak knife, wondering if it was sufficiently sharp enough to take his own life with. Or, more preferably, someone else’s.
“You shouldn’t look so happy, baby brother, you could strain something.” Itachi slid into Naruto’s unoccupied seat beside Sasuke, leaning in an inch from ear and whispering his words so softly a shiver ran down Sasuke’s spine.
“What do you want from me, Itachi?”
“The usual, but I’ll set that aside for the occasion and wish you my congratulations.” the older man said archly, his lips brushing Sasuke’s jaw before he pulled away slowly. Itachi leaned back in his chair casually, surveying the dance floor with vague interest.
Sasuke tilted his head thoughtfully.
“You must be absolutely euphoric right now. Watching me wallow in my own self pity as my new husband,” he cast a brief disdainful look toward the dance floor where his husband had switched partners, again. “disgraces are now conjoined family names. This ought to give you great wanking material for later on tonight.”
Itachi turned his eyes to his brother with a sardonic little smirk. “What sort of person would I be if I got off on your misfortune?”
“You would be Itachi Uchiha.” Sasuke replied dryly. An eerie twinkle had come into Itachi’s eyes as he stared at Sasuke unblinkingly. The others mouth curled, like wanted to say something more but smothered it with a smirk instead.
Suddenly, Itachi leaned forward and kissed him shortly, placed a white and crimson envelope in his hand, thick with bills and stood.
“You should try being more optimistic, Sasuke.” Itachi said, staring down at Sasuke sagely, making Sasuke want to stab him just once with the steak knife. “considering your chosen husband could be much worse.”
Itachi strode off purposely, ignoring whomever had decided to call his name as he passed as left the hall with a graceful air befitting any Uchiha.
Sasuke let himself consider his brothers words. He supposed he could count himself as lucky. His current spouse could me much worse, when his others suitors were put into consideration. The way Sasuke figured, he would rather be with a multibillion dollar pain in the ass, than an equally valuable fate spouting pissy twat (Neji Hyuuga was the ban of his existence, the epitome of all things insufferable in Sasuke book).
Yes, Sasuke conceited, as Naruto’s laugh echoed from across the hall, his spouse could have been so much worse.
**********
After the initial uproar of the kekkon hiroen died down the party began to disperse the guest gave their expected Shugi-Bukuro to the receptionist along with a few unexpected western style wedding gifts.
Haruno Hotels provided the newlywed suite, free of charge, for the much anticipated (for who, Sasuke wasn’t sure) wedding night. The consummation of their union.
They had to lock and bolt the door behind them to actually keep the elders from standing over the bed and watching to make sure they went though with it. Their union was imperative to the future of Uchiha Corp., the elders had made it quite clear, so much so that Sasuke was quick to realize that it was far more important to the Uchiha’s than the Namikaze-Uzumaki’s. This meant the hopes and future of Uchiha corp. was riding on Sasuke in the most literal sense.
With that burden, among others Sasuke set about his wedding night with a rising trepidation.
Naruto stared at Sasuke’s reflection in the suites lavish floor to ceiling windows, with his own rising trepidation. Now that he was alone with Sasuke, Naruto realized that nothing after the required ‘I do’s’ had been spoken between them.
Nervously, Naruto glanced at the back of Sasuke’s head, the view he’d been subject to from the moment the elders escorted them into the suit. Sasuke sat rigid as a corpse, his back purposely turned to the other man and staring with great interest at the carpet.
“Feels kind of weird being here, huh?” Naruto laughed nervously, paying avid attention to the way the street light flickered outside of their suite window. Sasuke, driven by some unknown masochistic force, turned to Naruto almost thoughtfully.
“How so, Uzumaki-san?” Sasuke said as placating as he had ever heard his mother speak to his father.
Naruto shoot him a brief heated look. “My name’s Naruto.”
“Yes, I know. Would you be so kind as to answer my question?”
Naruto bounced from heel to toes, looking very shy, his hands shoved in the pockets of his disheveled tuxedo.
The fool had insisted on a western tuxedo even though the whole ceremony had been conducted to a traditional Japanese theme. He’d been even more of an eyesore than usual in an all black tux with matching orange handkerchief and tie beside Sasuke’s elaborate montsuki haori hakama.
The petulant desire to kidney punch the blond boiled to surface once more.
“This consummating,” Naruto waved a hand at the massive four poster bed. “Business. After everyone made such a huge deal about it. Kind of take the romance out of things.”
“Are trying to tell me that you can’t perform under pressure, Uzumaki-san.” Sasuke jabbed dryly, his smirk belying his viscous intent. He knew his comment hit the bull’s-eye when Naruto sputtered so hard he’d forget to demand Sasuke call him ‘Naruto’.
“What?!”
Sasuke stood briskly, walking over to the low coffee table in front of the luxurious leather sofa, one of many accommodations offered in their suite, and poured a glass of cold water from a convenient pitcher. He offered it to his floundering husband, preying he did not choke because given Sasuke’s obvious hostility toward him, the Uzumaki’s would be quick to jump on accusations of murder, and that simply would not do.
“The consummation does not have to be tonight, Uzumaki-san. We could wait until tomorrow perhaps, when the pressure isn’t so great and you’ll find yourself more able to perform.” Sasuke smirk grew at the way Naruto’s eyes bulged from their sockets. He held up the glass of water obligingly, making sure their fingers did not graze as Naruto made a hasty grab for it.
“I can perform just fine, thank you!” Naruto croaked after he regained his barring, than blushed furiously when Sasuke raised an eyebrow at him.
“Oh. I’m sure you can, but I wouldn’t dare put anymore more pressure on you.” Sasuke replied pseudo-sympathetically and refilled Naruto’s cup.
Naruto glared so hard Sasuke almost felt singed by it.
Sasuke smiled serenely nonetheless: “Shall we get ready for bed then?”
Naruto was quickly at a loss for words again. Sagely, Sasuke took the glass from him and placed neatly atop the try from which it came beside the pitcher and strolled toward one of the adjoining bathrooms. Wholeheartedly believing Naruto would not follow.
After an hour long shower, which Naruto finds completely unreasonable since Sasuke is so small, and surely it doesn’t take an hour to wash a body that lanky, Sasuke emerged squeaky clean and in a long kimono bathrobe. Naruto rolled his eyes at him as he passed; of course Sasuke would stick to the Japanese theme, and gathered his toiletries for his own much shorter shower.
How anyone could remain so formal, even just going to bed was ridicules, Naruto thought. He unlike Sasuke wore a worn pair of trackies and a shirt more for his comfort than Sasuke’s. Not bothering to ask which sided the other wanted, Naruto plunked onto the bed with overdone exaggeration.
Sasuke hesitated as he climbed into bed, facing Naruto.
“Once again we don’t have to anything you’re not comfortable with Uzum-.” he hastily corrected himself at the threat of Naruto opening his mouth. “Naruto.”
Sasuke turned his back to him on the bed, rationalizing with himself that it had nothing to do with him rather chocking himself with a gym sock than being touched by that imbecile.
If Sasuke were to be honest with himself, which he rarely was, he’d admit that intimacy sickened him beyond redemption. In fact, most things sickened him, intimacy just happened to be the worst of them.
He’d very well be alone, free to make his own chooses and lifestyle, than have to share it with another human being.
He didn’t understand why he couldn’t’ just have a cat.
But no, you can’t breed with a cat, unless one happened to be into bestiality, which Sasuke defiantly wasn't. And the council had thought a union between Namikaze-Uzumkai and Uchiha would be endlessly beneficial. Sasuke may have agreed but, really, they could have done better than Naruto.
Frankly in Sasuke’s opinion being married to Naruto was along the same vein as bestially anyway.
Sighing, Sasuke reached over to the bedside nightstand to turn of the light before snuggling under the covers. Naruto did the same; twisting and turning for several moments on his end, grumbling as he tried to find a comfortable position much to Sasuke’s mounting irritation. When he did find one he sighed and settled in much to his luck because Sasuke had been heartbeat from bashing his head in with a lamp.
“Good night Sasuke.” the other man whispered, sounding almost human and much less annoying than he had the entire day.
Sasuke waited an entire minute before replying. “Good night, Naruto.”
****************************
Note: I’m a coma whore, don’t judge me to much on it. I just love putting coma’s everywhere, it makes me happy. Don’t expect me to be constant with this or anything, it just some crack I wrote to entertain myself while I tried to come up with the next Chapter of Café Loki.
I wouldn’t hold breath though guys, it slow coming. So enjoy the crack, it could be all you see for a while.
Shugi-Bukuro: Envelopes of Money Customarily given to the Receptionist at the end of the wedding receptionist as gifts to the newlyweds. It’s preferred that guests use pretty, unwrinkled bills for the occasion.
Montsuki haori hakama: Traditional Wedding robe worn by the groom, and sense Sasuke isn’t a girl he would not be wearing a kimono to his wedding.
Kekkon hiroen: The wedding reception conducted in whatever way the newlyweds religions happened to be at either a shrine or wedding hall