Sister Princess Saturday Report! No. 7 – Mawwidge!
On Promised Island, marriage was not a symbol of devotion to one’s soulmate. At least, not among the Sisters.
Marriage was the final step for a Sister to present a sacrifice to the Sister Princess. The goddess could only be satiated by a virgin sacrifice whom had grown romantically attached to one of the Sisters; the Sister Princess got off on the tragedy. Truthfully, I believe the Sister Princess wanted Wataru to fall in love with Marie, because she had a crippling disease. That would add an extra layer of delicious tragedy.
Sakuya and Hinako were drying clothes one day when a breeze fluttered by and lifted a sheet from its clothesline. The sheet flew into the air and landed on Sakuya’s head. It wrapped around her gracefully and settled on her shoulders. The white shone bright in the sun.
“Wow!” Hinako said. “You look just like a bride!”
“Hey,” Sakuya said, with a glint in her eye. “That gives me an idea. We should make our own wedding dresses and have fun with Dear Brother! Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Yeah!” Hinako said. “That’s a lot of fun! Fun with Bro Bro!” She ran off toward the home screaming, “Fun with Bro Bro! Fun with Bro Bro!”
Sakuya allowed herself a tiny smirk. She had higher aspirations than simply having fun, for, you see, the Sister who married the sacrifice and presented him or her to the Sister Princess gained high standing on Promised Island. Essentially, Sakuya would be the island’s day-to-day leader — no longer would Karen be the alpha female if Sakuya were placed in charge by the Sister Princess herself!
And so Sakuya improvised a plan to get close to Wataru. While Hinako was busy badgering the other girls — who were mostly not idiots and would immediately sniff out Sakuya’s intentions — Sakuya would seek out Wataru and use her considerable charm to worm her way past Wataru’s defenses and become the only one in his heart. It was a foolproof plan; unfortunately for her, Wataru was far beyond being a mere fool.
Hinako burst into the living room of the house where all the Sisters were hanging out.
“Fun with Bro Bro!” she shouted. “Fun with Bro Bro! FUN WITH BRO BRO!”
“. . . What are you talking about?” Karen asked.
“We should make wedding dresses and have fun with Bro Bro!” Hinako said. “That’s what Sakuya said!”
“. . . That bitch!” the other Sisters shouted. They exploded into a frenzy of spastic limbs and sheets as they searched for sewing materials and tools. Hinako did not quite understand what all the fuss was about, but she joined in nonetheless because there was really nothing better to do, since Promised Island was so boring.
A minor tangent, if you’ll allow me: I despise weddings. They are expensive, messy and force one into contact with others whom one would rather not see. This is why I never married; it is easier and more convenient to drift about at one’s whim, spreading love wherever one goes. Why be tied down to an antiquated social construct? At least the Sisters were capable of exposing marriage for the sham it is instead of carrying along like meat puppets constrained by the demands of society.
Where was I? Oh yes. Karen sped away and ran into the kitchen, looking for anything that could be of help. There she spied Sakuya speaking with Wataru, who was trying — and failing — to open a jar of jam. Sakuya and Karen locked eyes, and the tension in the room grew thick. Speaking of thick, Wataru did not notice this at all; indeed, he was still focused on his jam jar.
“Wow, this thing is really tough to open!” Wataru said.
“Let me help you with that. . . .” Karen said. She took the jar from Wataru’s hands and twisted the top off — so hard, in fact, that she took off a chunk of glass from the top along with the lid. Jam dripped from the jar as Karen handed it back to Wataru. Her eyes were locked on Sakuya’s the entire time.
“Uh . . . thanks,” Wataru said. He looked at both Sakuya and Karen. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Don’t mind me,” Karen said. “I’m just looking for an ice pick.”
“Let’s go!” Sakuya said. “There’s somewhere I want to take you!” Before either Karen or Wataru could object, Sakuya grabbed Wataru’s arm and dragged him from the house. They walked down a path outside before halting in front of a large church.
“Wow, I’ve never seen this place before,” Wataru said. Wataru was not a God-fearing man, possibly because he did not possess the brain capacity to conceive of a deity. Sakuya did not answer Wataru; instead, she took his hands in hers.
“Please come into the church with me!” Sakuya said. She then let go of Wataru’s hands and ran into the church. Wataru stood confused for a few minutes, unsure of what to do because nobody was giving him any directions. Finally his synapses fired, and he decided it was for the best that he go into the church.
Sakuya tapped her foot against the ground in an irritated manner when she spied Wataru finally walk through the wide wooden church doors.
“What were you doing that whole time?!” Sakuya said.
“What?” Wataru asked.
“. . . Never mind,” Sakuya said. She ran up to Wataru and peered into his eyes with the cutest expression she could muster. It was then that Wataru noticed Sakuya had changed clothes — she was now wearing a wedding dress and veil. Wataru was not quite sure what to say, so he resorted to his usual reaction: Stammering like an idiot.
“Hurry, follow me!” Sakuya grabbed Wataru’s arm yet again and led him to the altar. She turned and faced him, peering straight into his eyes. “Wataru, you want to be happy forever, right?”
“Uh, I guess it would be nice . . .” Wataru said.
“I want to be happy, too!” Sakuya said. She clasped Wataru’s hands tight in hers. “It would make me happy to be your bride!”
“Wait, what?” Wataru asked.
“Marry me!” Sakuya said. “I want to be with you forever!” Or at least until I can crucify you and feed you to my god.
“I, wait, huh?” Wataru said. “Aren’t we siblings? Should we be doing this?”
“It doesn’t matter!” Sakuya said. “Our love knows no bounds! You can feel it, too, right?”
“uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Wataru said. Before he could give a response less befitting of the verbal faculties of a 5-year-old, the church doors burst open once again, and the rest of the Sisters stood defiantly in their wedding dresses.
“Tch!” Sakuya sneered. “Curses! I almost had him!”
The Sisters and Wataru spent the rest of the day taking idiotic photos of everyone getting “married”. I’m sure it was an innocent, insipid affair. Once again, I am uncertain as to why Wataru took such detailed notes regarding such an uninspiring afternoon. Far be it from me, however, to question the wisdom of a boy who cannot open a jar of jam.
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