"Mr. Fujisawa, it’s time to wake up…" Ah, a soft voice…

"Mmphmr?" Not now dammit… I’m trying to sleep.

"You have to wake up… we can’t have the groom asleep on his own wedding day!"

"WHAT?!!?!" Mr. Fujisawa jumped five feet into the air, tumbling out of his bed and onto the floor. When he finally recovered, he took the bedsheets off of his head and looked up in surprise. Miz was standing above him, a notebook in hand and a well-worn writing instrument in the other, grinnning at him.

"Oh silly, did you forget that today is our wedding day?" She smiled, even though Mr. Fujisawa’s face was filled with pure terror. "Today’s the blessed day," she continued, stars in her eyes, "when I will finally have a husband!"

"Are you insane?!" Mr. Fujisawa yelled in response, trying to remember the past days’ events. Unfortunately, the alcohol he had consumed had fuzzed his memories, and he realized that he must’ve unconciously agreed to the ceremony… probably just to get another bottle of wine. He cursed under his breath.

"W-well," he began, chuckling, "I don’t think I was in my right mind for that decision. Er… why don’t we postpone it for a while?" Like indefinitely? His eyes frantically scoured the room, noticing a large number of handmaidens enter, their gaze fixed on him. Oh crap, he thought, she brought reinforcements!!! He jumped to his feet and tried to run away, but the maidens had blocked off the only means of escape.

Looks like there’s only one thing to do… I gotta get outta here! Mr. Fujisawa rammed his fist into the wall, but instead of making a clean hole in it, he only succeeded in severely bruising his hand. He yelped, cursing the fact that he had drank too many bottles of wine last night.

"There’s nowhere to go," Miz said, slightly annoyed. "The ceremony will happen today, and you’re going to get ready!" She clapped her hands, and the maidens firmly grabbed Fujisawa to drag him to the dressing room, his shrill yelling filling the giant halls.

*****

He was pissed. Ok, perhaps more confused than pissed, but angry just the same. The servants put exotic fabrics and garments of all types on him, but as far as he was concerned, they could’ve been funeral garb. It was all the same to him. He looked over at Makoto, who was watching in some amusement.

"Just what the hell happened last night, huh?!" Mr. Fujisawa asked Makoto, exasperated.

"Well, Fujisawa-sensei, you agreed to finally marry Miz," he said, surprised that Mr. Fujisawa hadn’t remembered.

"I did?!" he asked. He hung his head. "Just how much did I drink last night??"

"Well," Makoto started, "you did have quite a lot to drink last night. Actually, I was surprised you were able to handle it all!" Makoto continued, as if talking to himself, "I mean, ten bottles… even for you, that was a big surprise!"

"Aw dammit!" Fujisawa said, defeated. So because of my damn drinking, I’m gonna get married to a woman who’ll probably plan out the rest of my life for me!

"Crap," he muttered.

*****

A few hours later, a fair-sized crowd had gathered in one of the larger meeting halls of the palace. The walls had been decorated with ornaments, and flowers were strewn all around the pink-fabric walkway that led straight up the middle to an altar. Sitting near the front was Nanami with a box of kleenex, Makoto, scratching his head at the whole situation, the other two priestesses; Shalya yawning, and Afura smacking her, and finally Aliele, hugging an annoyed Ura. A bunch of Roshtarian musicians came in and began setting up their odd-looking musical instruments.

Makoto bent over to Nanami. "Can you believe this is actually happening?" he asked.

"Nope," Nanami shook her head. "I’m surprised he didn’t put up a struggle!"

"Well, he tried to, but his drinking from the other day stopped him from being able to do anything."

"Well," Nanami huffed slightly, "maybe that’ll teach him for over-doing it."

Aliele giggled, grabbing Nanami’s arm. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you were jealous of the wedding!"

Nanami snatched her arm away, her face flushed. "W-who said I’m jealous?" She avoided looking at Makoto, a sweatdrop forming on her head.

"Nanami red, Nanami red!" Ura piped up.

The music started finally, and it caught everyone’s attention. It was a weird mix of some mysterious Arabian theme, not quite the typical wedding music fare, but still nice, and exotic. They quieted down and got comfortable to watch the ceremony.

The first to walk down the aisle was Miz. Her gown was pure white, with a veil that flowed down to the floor, where attendants were holding it. Her face resembled the kind worn by conquerors who had just claimed an entire country: confident, serene, and yet almost a little too insanely happy. She could almost even be heard humming the wedding tune to herself as she walked down the aisle. She approached the altar, and was surprised that Fujisawa was not there yet.

"Hey, isn’t the guy supposed to be the first to go to the altar?" Nanami whispered to Makoto.

"Yeah, I think you’re right!" he answered. "I wonder where Mr. Fujisawa is-"

Before he could finish that statement, Mr. Fujisawa could be seen walking—or more like, being pushed—down the aisle. His face was perspiring, and he walked with jagged motions. He finally reached the altar and faced a slightly miffed Miz.

The music stopped, and the "minister" of sorts addressed the two standing before him. "We are gathered here today to join these two in holy union under the land of blessed Roshtaria." The minister continued on, as most ministers do, about God and marriage, etc etc, but Mr. Fujisawa’s mind was racing a mile a minute. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere but here-- far far away, preferably.

His mind focused back on the minister, who had now turned to Miz. "Miz Misthal," he intoned, "Do you take Mr. Masamichi Fujisawa to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold (and to control forever, Fujisawa thought glumly) in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do!!" Miz beamed. The minister then turned to Mr. Fujisawa.

"And do you, Masamichi Fujisawa, take Ms. Miz Mishtal to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness an in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

Mr. Fujisawa paused. What the hell?? I don’t wanna do this, he thought, I’m not ready for a commitment yet! Strange… I thought it would be different… feel different. No, no, I can’t do this!! His mind thought frantically. I need a drink… I really really really need a drink, dammit! His mind sparked. Hey, if I need alcohol so much right now, that must mean that I’m finally-

"SOBER!!" he yelled out. He caused a gust of wind to form around him as he yelled it, terribly surprising everyone around him. With a mighty surge of newfound energy, he tore away from the altar and careened out of the meeting hall at breakneck speed.

Shayla smirked. "Hey, tally that up to Miz’s ‘scared-away’ men list, Afura" she whispered slyly to the other priestess. Makoto looked back at the dust settling into place behind Fujisawa’s tracks and couldn’t help marveling at the great exit.

But Miz was not so amused. She was fuming, actually. From outside the palace a large yell could be heard, followed by a huge wave of water that washed most of the wedding guests outside, sputtering.