Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Holy (Hell of a) Matrimony ❯ Holy (Hell of a) Matrimony ( Chapter 1 )

A look into how Gaara and Sakura's wedding might go down… in more ways than one

 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own- Oh, do I really need to say it? I don't even look remotely like Kishimoto-san. I'm not even a guy!

 

 

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Holy (Hell of a) Matrimony

 

 

It was a good thing he was getting paid big bucks for this, because the reverend had a gut feeling that this ceremony was going be rather… eccentric.

 

For starters, the groom happened to be the Kazekage, but even aside from that, he donned untidy, mish-mashed, rusty red hair that completely offset the formality of a wedding of this sort.

 

Beside him were three men, the first of them being his best man, an inconveniently loudmouthed blonde who reeked of ramen. Next was a rather sullen looking bowlhead whose eyebrows defied all the genetic laws that kept eyebrows as tame as was humanly possible. The reverend could have sworn those things were alive. After him was the man who was supposedly the Kazekage's older brother. How could they even tell the two were blood related, what with all that damn paint covering his face? Honestly, these people possessed no tact whatsoever, at least when it came to the sacred matters of holy matrimony. Luckily for him, the bridesmaids- another blond with her hair up in a pencil straight ponytail, a white-eyed girl who tapped her fingers together while stealing glances at the best man, and the groom's sister who sported an… electrified style of hair- weren't souring his eyesight, or he would have just given up and walked out of the chapel right then and there.

 

Then again what was the poor man to expect? He had known full well when he had taken on the task of binding two human beings for eternity in marriage that someday he was going to have to hold a ceremony for a crowd made almost entirely of shinobi.

 

Oh joy.

 

The reverend held back a long-suffering sigh and scanned the endless mixed crowd of Sand and Leaf nin in the hopes of finding some normalcy, to no avail, unsurprisingly. First to catch his now twitching eye was a white-haired man who appeared to be in his fifties. He was shamelessly flirting with a very inebriated (and very er- well-endowed) Hokage. Further back was a bon-bon haired woman who clung onto the arm of her apparent date, who appeared to have the same eyes as one of the bridesmaids. He found a similar sight with a modest young woman - wait, was that a pig in her lap?!- who latched onto a laidback-looking man with a senbon perched lazily between his lips. He almost fainted at the sight of the bowlhead's twin, only much older and eyebrows that were far thicker. He seemed to be on the verge of tears. Great, a sob-soaked wedding was the last thing the reverend needed. Behind him was a pony-tailed man seated next to his overweight buddy. They were accompanied by a gruff middle-aged man who puffed away indifferently on a newly dispatched cigarette and a brunette vixen, who had dragged along a shaggy man and his dog and a mysterious figure who buried himself in his bulky jacket and dark shades.

 

The reverend was going to need an incredibly strong drink after this.

 

The doors opened and all present craned their necks to get a good look at the bride.

 

She was traditionally clothed in a form-fitting strapless white gown, much to the reverend's relief- though he couldn't help but seem somewhat irritated at the bride's hair color. Honestly, who in the world had pink hair?. The men in the company grinned in unison while the women's awed whispers carried their praises of the brides throughout the chapel. Attention shifting to the corner of his eye, the reverend had the good fortune of witnessing the Kazekage letting loose a miniscule but still existent smile. All was well. And all would continue to go well.

 

At least, that was what the reverend could only hope…

 

Those hopes were cruelly torn to microscopic shreds when the serenity of the moment was interrupted by a deafening wolf whistle that heralded from the direction of the old white-haired man, who followed it with an exclamation of “YEAH! KNOCK `EM DEAD, SWEETHEART!”

 

Vodka. Vodka should do the trick…

 

Much to everybody's surprise, the man giving the bride away was her teammate, who strode down the aisle with a dark brood smothered all over his face. Before he handed the bride over to the reverend and her would-be husband, he sent the Kazekage a blood-chilling glare that in itself proclaimed that if the redhead did anything to make his partner, his teammate, and his dearly close friend cry, the Kazekage would wish from the depths of his soul that the man would only so merciful enough to simply kill him. The hardly amused groom shot an equally icy glare back at him.

 

The reverend, the bridesmaids, and the men near the altar let an erratic shiver eek throughout their vertebrae.

 

Their glaring tangent continued for the better part of a minute before the groom faced the other way and the brooding man turned and took his seat between a masked broomhead who had his nose planted in an orange porno book and a quiet plain boy who was currently occupied with finishing up something in his sketchbook.

 

For the love of all things holy, what was wrong with these people?!

 

Clearing his throat, he began the ceremony.

 

 

The reverend could say that all went well, but if he could say that with a straight face, then he could lie his way out of murder.

 

Sobs and sniffs resounded throughout the chapel walls, particularly from the bon-bon girl and the pig lady, both of whom clutched themselves around their dates, who grimaced in sheer pain. The younger bowlhead kept his eyes to the floor, only to steal a glance at the bride, sigh in defeat, and repeat the process until the ceremony was over. The older bowlhead bawled out his emotionally fueled praises in a booming voice: “Ah! The Blossom of Konoha and the Boy Kazekage are all grown up!” The chubby boy behind the bowlhead gave him a sharp kick to his ankle to sit him down and shut him up, which worked somewhat. The best man turned to the white-eyed girl and waggled his eyebrows mischievously, which elicited a startled gasp and a flattered blush from the girl. The broomhead flipped a page, the artist sketched, and the teammate brooded, while the rest of the company kept themselves immersed in the ceremony before them.

 

During the rehearsal before today, the bride and groom decided not to recite any written vows, aside from the “I Do's”. The groom blankly stated they didn't need them, while his arm slyly slithered around the giggling pinkhead's slender hip and pulled her close. So, that was the story of that.

 

There was only one thing left to survive…

 

…The kiss.

 

The reverend cheerfully recited the age-old proclamation that would grant the bride and groom permission to engage in physically tying themselves together, binding them to one another until their last millisecond of life, and that would also bring this freak show to a long-awaited close.

 

Without reluctance, the Kazekage and his cherry-haired wife-to-be leaned in.

 

…

 

In that moment in time, on the fourteenth of May, in a humble, anonymous chapel in the River Country, the term “Hell breaking loose” became the understatement of the century.

 

…

 

 

The Kazekage's poor brother struggled to hold down the spazzing younger bowlhead who attempted to pry the -currently occupied- bride and groom apart. The shaggy man and his dog let out an echoing howl of excitement while the jacket-clad person next to him remained unmoved. The smoker and the vixen followed the bride and groom's lead and locked lips. The old man continued the trend and pulled the balloon-chested Hokage to him to give her a brief smooch, for which he received more than an audible thwack to the base of his skull. Bon-bon and Pig Lady constricted themselves even tighter around their dates, abruptly cutting off the poor guys' circulation. The elder bowlhead wailed his praises and inner emotions even louder than before until a shoe that came flying from the best man's direction belted him square in the face and briefly knocked him out. Said best man had the following words accompany his shoe: “KEEP YER FLAPPIN' SKULL CAVE LATCHED SHUT, YA DAMNED THICK BROWS! YER RUININ' THE VIBE!” The pony-tailed guy and his chubby compadre set off an explosion of confetti into the air. The masked broomhead and the quiet artist poked their heads up from their respective books and let out an eye-crinkling smile. The bride's brooding friend intensified his brood tenfold. The bridesmaids raised their arms to the ceiling and yelled out a hearty “Banzai!” and the hordes of Sand and Leaf shinobi in attendance applauded and cheered on the couple at the altar.

 

Slowly, but finally, the bride and groom pulled apart, genuine smiles adorning their faces, when out of the blue, a messenger hawk soared through the chapel halls and dropped a small scroll in the Kazekage's hands. He hastily scanned the print on the paper before his smile receded. He turned to his dear newlywed wife, who gave him a brief smile and a nod. Next he pivoted his head to the rest of the crowd, who nodded in kind.

 

After a quick exchange of hand seals, the entire company -bride, groom, and the weirdos associated with them- vanished in a unified flicker of bodies.

 

The stunned reverend stood there in solitude for a minute, trying to slowly soak in the events he just witnessed before collapsing to the ground in exasperation, head buried in his sweating palms. Without a care as to his occupation or his current location, he pulled out a flask filled with whiskey and downed a large swig.

 

Never again in his life would he ever marry together shinobi.

 

Ever.

 

*****

 

And that's that! Hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing it.

 

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~Saeka-sama