pslplz | Arranged Marriage

If you asked Mamoru, he would probably tell you that moving in together seemed rather drastic for resolving the problem of not yet being acquainted. But no one had bothered to ask him, presumably because his opinion mattered about as much as his fiancée's.

It didn't bother him as much as it probably should. Finding a soulmate wasn't something he'd ever expected, or even particularly craved. Sure, it would have been nice to have a say in who he married, but as long as she wasn't completely insufferable, he could make do with the reality. And if she was completely insufferable, well... he supposed they could at least keep to different wings of the house.

He heard the crunch of the front drive under tires, signaling her arrival. Mamoru confirmed with a glance out the window, then rose from his seat, put his laptop into sleep mode, and walked for the front lobby to greet the moving party. And, if he were honest, go see exactly what kind of wife he'd been signed up for.

Papa had always talked of arranged marriages as the way of the Sakaki's, but Ouka never quite took him seriously. After all, arranged marriages were an antiquated thing of the past. She hadn't actually thought he was serious. But even then, Ouka had assumed that she could talk her way out of it, somehow. After all, there were perks of being Papa's Little Girl.

Though, apparently, the perks weren't that great...

Before she could really process what was happening, she found herself in a town car, and staring at the window at a large estate. As the car came to a stop, she could barely hold back indignant tears. This wasn't fair... wasn't fair at all.

Her driver stepped out and held open her door, but Ouka stayed firmly planted inside the car, arms crossed. If she put all of her strength into looking as annoyed as possible, perhaps she wouldn't give herself away and start crying. The driver said something, but she was barely paying attention. She knew this must seem childish, to say the least, but she was hell bent on staying in that care until her husband-to-be himself came out to get her.

Maybe he wouldn't, and she'd get sent home...

As he left the front door and stepped out onto the drive, one thing became immediately clear: his fiancée was still in the car. Well, that could be awkward. Mamoru wondered what she was waiting for. Her driver had even opened the door for her.

"Is everything all right?" He asked him. Perhaps there was some sort of problem hindering her from getting out.

Her driver stammered to explain her resistance, and Ouka had to at least concede some sort of respect for the poor man. He was being as polite as possible, and attempting to explain the situation without speaking ill of her.

Not that he had anything to speak ill of, obviously.

Despite her resolve to sit perfectly still in the car, arms crossed, and looking as stern as she could, Ouka had to admit that she was indeed curious about her fiancé. She'd heard stories, sure. Seen him on the news, even. And she was sure she'd met him once or twice at Papa's events and parties, though she'd been introduced to so many people at those, that she'd stopped paying attention years ago. This would be the first time that she'd actually see him. Up close.

She leaned her head out the open door and peered through the half rolled down window. Ouka had a fairly good view of the driver's back, but not a whole lot more. She was just about to resume her position of absolute resistance when the driver moved, and she found herself staring directly at her fiancé. Er. His legs, anyways.

She let out a small, surprised gasp, and found herself turning a light shade of pink. Imagine that... allowing herself to be caught in a position like this, half hanging out the car, and peering out a window like a little child.

For a moment, Ouka was completely speechless.

Well, this was certainly not quite what he was expecting. Mamoru couldn't help looking over at the girl hanging out the window when she became visible. For a moment, he almost wondered if she was really as old as he'd been told-- that was certainly not a thing most people that age did. But perhaps the reality was that she was simply very, very immature. And perhaps this was why she was still yet to come out of the car as well.

No wonder the driver was having a difficult time of himself explaining.

Mamoru stepped over and pulled the door open the rest of the way, going slowly enough not to hurt her. But after all, where the head goes, the feet must follow. This seemed the most practical (and perhaps fitting) way to get her properly out of the car.

The door started moving before she had time to react, and Ouka found herself dangling in the most ungraceful way out of the car.

Well... this... didn't go as planned at all.

There was no good way to salvage this, but she did the best she could. Calmly, and with as much poise as she could, Ouka stepped (rolled?) out of the car. She was determined not to show her embarrassment, even though she was most certainly feeling it. She took a moment to compose herself, and then stared up at Mamoru expectantly.

Alright, future husband. She's out of the car. Now what?

It appeared she still had nothing to say to him... Mamoru hoped this wasn't an omen of the future. He made no comment on her window stunt, not wanting to prolong the awkward moment, and instead offered a slight bow of introduction.

"Takatori Mamoru. Welcome..."

She flashes him a bright smile. The sweetest smile she can muster. The kind that she usually gives Papa when she knows she's done something he's not happy with, but also knows that he'll forgive her. (Because really, who wouldn't?)

"Sakaki Ouka."

Ouka cast a glance toward her driver. He paused for a moment, confused, and then suddenly sprang to action unloading the car of her luggage.

"Is this your house? It's beautiful."

"It is... Thank you. I hope you'll find it comfortable. There are several rooms available to choose among for your bedchamber. Would you like to see them now?"

The smile was a rather strange one to see, and it made Mamoru slightly suspicious, like perhaps she was planning something. He would have to keep an eye on her for a while.

She gets to choose her own room? This was better than she'd anticipated. Though, Ouka would have much preferred her room back home. At least there were choices...

She nods eagerly, wanting to see just how nice this -- her? -- new house was, compared to her old one. Ouka takes a step forward, grabs her future husband's arm, and gently tugs him forward. "A tour of the house would be great~"

The more she focuses on being a perfect, sweet little princess, the more her previous tumble from the car will seem like a distant dream. Are you getting whiplash from her temperament changes yet, Mamoru?

Definitely getting whiplash.

Mamoru isn't sure how to react now. He'd come out expecting someone mature, poised and professional, if possibly a bit chilly from the circumstances. He saw someone acting like a child. Now he's being toted back to his home like it's hers to show-- not his-- and an unsettlingly sugary manner. He offers no resistance to being pulled along like a hapless doll, partly because he's too busy being confused.

"Um... Sure." How quick he is to lose the helm. This doesn't bode well.

Arranged Marriage

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sorry orz

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