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Hello Everybody,
I'm posting this for a friend of mine. All C&C needs to be directed to
Angelkate, not me. though, if you choose to ignore that, I'll gladly pass it
on to her.
You actually want to read this thing huh? You are truly brave and I give
you kudos.
Okay, here's the scoop: All the usual disclaimer information applies here.
I did not
create any of the Shoujo Kakumei Utena characters portrayed in this story
except for the
obvious ones of Sari, Yamika, and Adam. Any backdrop people feel free to
steal; any
foreground people like Sari, Yamika, or Adam please don't steal without my
permission.
Extra thanks to Alan Harnum for all his help. Couldn't do it without him,
that's for sure.
If you have C&C please email me at Kam904s@yahoo.com, I'm always glad to get
mail
of any type. Heck, flame me if you want to, it's a free world.
In conclusion: Please don't sue me, I have more debts than people owe to
Nabiki Tendo
at the moment and you won't get anything worthwhile except maybe my poodle.
Thanks,
AngelKate
^_-
The Memory of the Rose
O Rose, thou art sick.
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy.
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
- The Sick Rose, Blake
It hurt, oh gods how it hurt. The ripping pain that seared its way through
her like a
dark dagger in her chest. But it burned not just within her chest; the pain
worked its way
through her legs, her torso, her neck. The afternoon light burned as she
jerked under so
many sharp points of fact- in the end, she had won, but at what cost?
Sweat and blood dripped down her legs, down her arms, soaking into the red
of
her socks and turning them scarlet. Coughing feebly, she pressed both hands
to the
marble floor below her slender fingers, pushing upwards with all her might.
She had to
escape, had to leave this horrible, evil place.
She had failed. The knowledge was heavy; even as she struggled to escape
the
collapsing world around her, she wept. Her lips formed soundless words;
they were
silent pleas to the gods to let it all have been a miserable dream.
And in the end only her perseverance saved her sorry hide. Sheer
determination
forced Utena down those steps and out the front of the gate. Mulishness and
nothing
more kept her broken and bloody body moving as she limped away from Ohtori.
Surprisingly enough, despite the dire condition she was in, Utena had
somehow managed
to stumble four miles to the freeway.
"Someone," she cried as she trudged along; each step another agonizing stab
in
her side, "please, if you're listening, save Anshi. She didn't deserve
that, really. God,
anyone, please...please^�"
No answer. Sorry the Almighty isn't home right now; please leave a prayer
at the
beep.
Beep.
Utena wept openly now as she stumbled along, blood dripping down her legs,
watering the hard, unyielding asphalt below. It was in such a sorry
condition that she
finally gave up and let herself fall forward onto the open freeway just
outside of the town
Ohtori inhabited.
The rest came to her in the jumbled non-sequence of the severely injured or
the
mentally unbalanced. A scream, the keening wails of horns blaring, icy
hands running
along her sides, a warm cocoon around her body. Forcing one eye open she saw
a god-
like man in checkered plaid kneeling by her side. His denim-clad knee was
inches from
her face; she could smell coffee from the drying stain on his upper thighs.
He must have
spilled it when I fell in the road, she thought dreamily. I hope he didn't
burn himself.
He was praying as he ran hands over her arms and legs. The words fell on her
like
a benediction: Please God, don't let this kid die, not on my shift. Please
God, don't let
this kid die, not on my shift. Please God, don't let this kid die, not on my
shift. The words
soon ran together until all she heard was the mute plea- don't let her die.
Please, just
don't let her die.
Utena could barely hear his jumbled words now; he was whispering and
probably
didn't even realize he was crying as well. She felt a grim sort of sadness
for the man, a
kind of silent satisfaction, and did her best to comfort him.
Her right hand budged and inch.
It was the best she could do.
Nine Years Later
It had finally stopped pouring down rain and as the girl slid her last bag
into the
passenger seat she felt a strange sense of release fill her up.
She was finally leaving.
She was finally going out into the real world.
She was so scared.
One more box to go. As she leaned forward to set it at the back of the
car -
buckling it in for safety's sake, there were ten years worth of breakable
mugs in there- the
short wisps at the front of her hair swept forward and brushed her cheeks.
For years and
years she'd always kept her hair in the same mundane style, a high ponytail
with two
tendrils just in front of her ears. But only yesterday Wakaba had gone to
the salon. Her
long ponytail had come down and the scissors had come out. She'd emerged a
completely different person.
It had been amusing that Tatsuya's mouth gaped at the graduation dinner or
that
the Chairman of the Board had nodded his head approvingly when she'd
received her
diploma, it was the fact that the style was so similar to hers.
In truth, Wakaba barely remembered the friend she'd had all those years
ago, the
pink-haired girl who'd shown up about a month after Wakaba's eighth year at
Ohtori had
started and who left about a month before graduation to the high school.
No, that wasn't
quite right either; Wakaba remembered her in her dreams. In the space
between dreams
she remembered running as fast as she could to catch up with the mysterious
girl, but
never quite matching her speed, watching helplessly as she slipped away into
the mists.
Wakaba had been so heartbroken when she just disappeared that day, she did
remember that much. It had taken her weeks and weeks to finally come to the
realization
that the girl wasn't coming back. That she'd left without ever even saying
goodbye. What
had been her name again? U-something, she thought. Nevertheless, Wakaba
had glared
at the Student Council members for months and months afterward, even her
dear Saionji,
certain that they had something to do with her friend's disappearance.
Especially the
Council President, he'd always been hanging about and making- what was her
name
again? ^� well, just making her life absolutely miserable when he showed up.
Wakaba locked her car and took a quick stroll around the campus. There was
the
window she used to surprise Tetsuya by. There was the strange birdcage
garden that had
belonged to that spooky girl, Himemiya Anshi. Wakaba paused by it a moment.
They'd
changed it a great deal; knocking out the glass and replacing it with
lattices. All the rose
bushes had been dug up, only the red, pink, and white ones remained now.
There was
even a wrought iron bench students didn't like sitting on in the center of
the cage; bushes
that never bloomed flanked it, and without the expert hand of the Dean's
little sister, all
the roses grew wild now.
Shivering at the sight, Wakaba hurried on. It was time to go; she'd spent
too much
time reminiscing. It had been best that she'd decided to start her career in
a different city,
she decided as she rushed back to her car. Oh well. The past was gone;
there was no use
dragging it up now. Ohtori loomed over the city below like a horrible black
beast at
times, despite all its pretty lights and sweeping architecture.
It was disturbing to find a secret part of her didn't want her to leave,
that wanted
to remain safe here forever. Pausing a few feet away from her car, Wakaba
shivered.
Had that been what chased them all off, those leaders of her middle years at
Ohtori?
She'd always been in the shadows watching them go as they left Ohtori one by
one for
various reasons. Had they in reality not wanted to go but made themselves
for fear of
never leaving? It was a sobering thought.
With a click, she unlocked the door. The car was finally packed; she
couldn't stay
here any longer. Wakaba stepped back and took one last lingering look
around. She self-
consciously patted her hair once more and slipped into her car. It was
finally time to be
someone special, to be someone really noticed.
Goodbye creepy Ohtori, of bells and short teal skirts-
-Hello^�
World.
Akio watched as the last Black Rose Duelist slipped into her car and drove
away.
She'd had no idea he'd been watching her from his tower, watching her with
her hair so
much like Tenjou's and longing for the past. Just that week, Nanami's last
little
henchman had requested a transfer to their London branch. He'd gotten it
without the
usual questions asked; Akio had been almost violent in his agreement to get
Tswabuki in
another country.
He wanted no more memories of the fool he'd been lingering around, and even
the slender thread of the Black Rose Duelists reminded him daily of his
foolish plans and
desires. They were all gone, from the first Student Council member to the
last Black Rose
Duelist. Even Kanae had left him after only a year of marriage, despite her
aristocratic
parent's protests that no one in their family had ever gotten a divorce.
He'd been too cold
to her, so she just packed her bags and left. He heard she'd eventually
ended up
somewhere in Europe, painting wide sweet canvases of Ohtori and the
surrounding
grounds. He'd even gotten his hands on one, a nightmarish dreamscape of the
dueling
arena no one but those who'd fought in it would recognize. But even there,
in the
foreground, was a slender, twisted figure in black and red with a wild
disarray of pink for
her hair and one slick streak of silver held aloft to the sky. He'd
grimaced at the red
monster off to the side, with dark skin and hateful green eyes, staring so
coldly at him
with a bug-like intensity. Akio had always known Anshi's attitude towards
Kanae had
disturbed his fianc�, but he'd never quite realized how much until then.
She'd truly seen
his sister as a monster, a horrible beast with dead eyes and a cold soul.
In a way, he supposed it was good she was gone; Kanae's presence would be
just
as bad as an altar to his foolish pride. He'd chosen her over Utena, he'd
chosen his coffin
over life, he'd chosen to be the dark angel of myth to the bright god of his
past.
He'd chosen being a monster over being a man.
What could it have been like to be the Victor in the end? What would it
have
been like to see your best friend go plummeting into the shadowy abyss; to
watch as your
fingers, your pale-skinned hands, normally so strong and sure in everything
you did let
her slip away finger by dark finger? What would it have been like to then
hear the heavy
humming of your destiny as it ripped downwards and speared your body with a
million
swords of hatred and despair? He'd never truly known the bite of cold steel
the way she
or Anshi had; he'd always just born his duty as a prince in stoic silence
until the day
Anshi had locked the good in him away. Until the day she'd saved him from
himself.
It was true you could be too selfless. In the end, when the illusion had
shattered
around him and he'd seen Utena limp away he'd still wanted to call to her,
to pull her
battered body close to his and soothe away her now-endless pain with the
kisses of his
lips. But then the world had come to a screeching halt and she was gone
beyond his
reach, beyond his world.
Akio laid his forehead against the cool glass and sighed. It was done, she
was
gone. No more of his history strolling about the campus enjoying the fresh
air and the
coming winter. No more of it at all.
Anshi had left the day he suggested renewing the duels. He didn't blame
her
now, but at the time he'd been so shocked, so surprised that his sister
would defy him, -
him-, her brother and the only one who truly understood the darkness of her
secret self.
But she'd gone nevertheless and he'd been left to wander Ohtori like a
ghost.
Even now, he looked the same as he did all those years ago. He could
easily pass
for a man of twenty or so, despite his real age. All the students of Ohtori
had that
selfsame ageless quality about them, including the one who'd just left,
Wakaba. She was
at least twenty-three or twenty-four, but to an outsider she might pass for
seventeen at
most. It would fade eventually, it always did, but for the next few years
there would be
comments behind whispered hands, how the newest member of the law firm
looked just
too young to be nearing her mid to late twenties. Her logic would be
impeccable on the
courtroom floor, she would bend the jury's will to her own, but even as they
marveled at
her brilliance in oratory, they would be secretly wondering her true age.
Grinning mirthlessly to himself, Akio moved away from the window and
returned
to his desk. A magazine was hidden somewhere under the mountain of
paperwork, and
though he had better things to do, Akio searched it out. He stared long and
hard and the
beauty on the cover and let his mind drift for a moment.
Juri.
She was in the final years of her modeling career and had already made a
name
for herself as a designer, he knew. The world begged her each season to
design
something different, something daring, but only those duelists would know
that no matter
how distinctive the design, they all had the same boxy shoulder look of a
duelist uniform,
the same epitaphs peeping somewhere on the costume.
None of them had truly forgotten, though their memories were vague. None
of
them would ever truly remember though, no matter how many stories were
dragged up.
For them to remember he would have to search out the Victor.
He would have to revive the Duels.
He would burn in Hell first.
A knock on the door brought his mind away from its wanderings. Frowning a
bit,
Akio rose and answered it himself. His secretary should have buzzed him,
this better be
damn important.
"Hello, Akio-san." The figure in the doorway smirked as Akio stepped back
in
surprise. He tried to keep his cool but sensed he was failing miserably as
his guest
sauntered into the room and sat down on the couch with the same old
familiarity, tilting
backwards to look at the faux stars painted high above. "Nothing much has
changed I
see."
Akio stood a little taller and firmly stamped on the cold fear creeping into
his
heart. He never would have believed any of them would return of their own
volition once
they had escaped, but apparently he was incorrect. "It's been a long time."
"Indeed," murmured his guest, his ghost. "Too long. How have you been?"
Shrugging in his old noncommittal way, Akio tried on a dashing smile. It
didn't
fit quite right on his face, so he dropped it. "I've been much better. But
I'm wondering
why you're here."
The figure shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh the usual. Seduction, Sensation,
Sin."
The last was said with a baring of teeth that suggested a smile. Akio felt
nauseated as she
continued. "I'm here to take Ohtori from you. Hope you don't mind too
terribly much.
There's a lot to be done around here and you're wasting Ohtori's potential
like this."
This time the surprise on the Dean's face was so genuine that his guest
broke out
into merry laughter. "Why, Akio-san, I do believe I've startled you."
He shrugged, forcing calm once more. He was the master at manipulating
people
at Ohtori, not this arrogant shadow from his past. He couldn't let the
taunts get too him;
he'd imagined a confrontation like this too many times in his mind to let it
rattle him
now. "Not really. But what would you want with a run down school like
Ohtori
anyway?"
The figure chuckled. "Oh Akio-san. Ever the optimist. I want the same
thing
you wanted- to be a prince again if only in the eyes of that one special
someone. I want
eternity. And you can give it to me." The figure moved with a fluid grace
that was so
quick Akio barely had a chance to notice the shadow on the wall move before
the knife
was at his throat and the envelope in his hand. "You will help me too, or I
will kill you."
He'd had a feeling that was what this shadow from his past was after. Akio
did
not snort- to do so was far too undignified- but he did glare a bit. "Then
go ahead and do
it," he said. "But I'm not helping you."
"Oh, boo-hoo," taunted his guest as a bare hand devoid of ring flashed in
the dim
lights of the observatory, "Akio's not afraid to die? Pathetic." Lips
brushed his cheek
and Akio shuddered at their touch. This was going much too far. This was
not the person
he recognized, the person he had twisted worlds around to manipulate. Of
course he had
manipulated them all, every one of them until the very end, until she had
saved them.
Until he'd failed to save himself. But this was not the student he
remembered, this was
inherently wrong on so many levels as to be ludicrous. This was not how the
story was
supposed to go.
His guest pressed the knife a little closer and ran the edge of the envelope
down
his neck, eliciting a barely concealed tremor. "There are worse things than
dying Akio-
san. You and your sister are very, very well acquainted with that fact. So
I want you to
sign the new letters as 'The Ends of Innocence' all right? We have around
nine months
to spare, but for what I want to do that's not much. The way I see things,
a new
candidate for the coven of the damned Rose Brides will be here soon. We'd
better
prepare, yes?"
Akio couldn't stop the sneer of revulsion as lips nipped at his ear; yet at
the same
time he felt his body grow taut beneath the sharp scrape of teeth. "I am not
going to do
this, and you know it. Just use the damn dagger all right? Put me out of
your misery."
A low throaty chuckle purred its way across his senses and Akio closed his
eyes
and tried to shut down his rampaging libido as the dagger slid down his
chest, popping
buttons away one by one. "Yes, Akio, you are. Even if I have to tie you up
or lock you
under Nemuro Memorial Hall^�yes, you will help me gain eternity. You want
what I
have; which is information on those you seek, as well as what we had before.
I'm willing
to offer both freely; all I ask is that you quit sniveling and grow up."
As the cool edge of the metal slid the final two inches down his shirt,
Akio heard
a sound he ^�much like Anshi before him- would quickly learn to despise: the
sound of the
shutters on the high windows dropping down.
It was only after cool muscled thighs draped across his own and warm breath
whispered in his ear that Akio began to truly be terrified of what he'd done
so long ago.
His arms tightened momentarily around the pale body sprawled across his
chest and he
shuddered in fear. At first he thought he was the only one culpable for his
decisions but
here was living, breathing, blackmailing proof of how wrong he'd been. Oh
how very
wrong indeed.
"That'll be two bits miss," murmured the heavy man behind the cart. The
lovely
woman nodded and took out the spare change, listening to the rattle of
strange coins in
her pockets as she took the first ginger sip of the steaming coffee. "Keep
the change,"
she smiled, handing the vendor a dollar and turning away. It was already
freezing out; the
weather had changed so suddenly, to the surprise of many. Snow drifted
lazily down on
Central Park and she smiled sadly. How long ago had it been since she'd
been here last?
At least seven years. She supposed it was time to go home. Eight months and
six days
from now ten years would have passed since she'd left Ohtori. Besides,
Anshi
desperately wanted to see if Utena would remember their promise.
Not that she would blame her if she didn't. Anshi had carried around the
weight
of the swords for years; she knew how their burden could wear on a person
both
physically and mentally. She herself had often needed days of bed rest in
order to just
make it through the entire month without collapsing. But still, she hoped.
In a way she reminded herself of that boy, Mamiya-the real one- not her
pale
imitation. She used to be so weak and it was only after the fire that she
gained the
strength, though her fire was of a most definitely different nature. Hers
was the scouring
flames of the Phoenix; his had merely been the crackle of a burning
building, complete
with one hundred handpicked sacrifices to science trapped within.
It was October now; she was so close.
Ten years. She'd spent not quite ten years searching for Utena, longing to
give
comfort to her prince, desiring nothing more that to see that head of pink
hair just once
more. There had been several close calls over the years; she'd arrive in a
city or town
where her contact had sent her, go to the apartment or hotel, only to find
that the woman
she'd been searching for had left a few days before. Thus Anshi had learned
to live with
disappointment. But it didn't stop her from dreaming.
She supposed Utena had gotten married or something- over the years, Anshi
herself had not. Miki called occasionally; she kept in touch with her
favorite genius and
as each week passed she wondered if perhaps she was being fair to him. He'd
loved her
since middle school; even now he waited patiently for her to finish her
quest so he could
propose. Anshi supposed she loved him enough to settle down, -if anyone
Miki was a
more than adequate choice- but in her heart she still wanted to see Utena
once more
before agreeing on something so important to her life.
Anshi closed her eyes; she could practically hear Utena's voice if she
tried, the
rich alto quietly chastising her for not being an individual, for depending
so much on her
title as the Rose Bride.
"The thing I hate most is when people don't take care of themselves,"
Utena's
voice rebuked in her mind. "You need to take better care, Yui!"
Anshi snapped out of her daydream with a start. Yui?
The voice continued, the familiar alto rising and falling as the words
slipped past
Anshi to their intended target. In all truth, the woman was afraid to turn,
terrified that if
she did and this woman's voice was not Utena she would lose it right then
and there. It
had been so long^�
She needn't have worried.
Utena was still unbelievably slender and tom-boyishly beautiful. Her pink
hair
was caught back in a braid that fell to her hips, but she kept the front the
same as always;
soft layers and bangs clinging to her forehead and cheeks along with a faint
shimmer of
snow. "Utena," Anshi whispered, shocked. Her heart was hammering away a
mile a
minute, but apparently that still wasn't loud enough, as Utena scooped up a
small child of
perhaps four and began to walk away. She hadn't heard the soft, shocked
whisper.
She was getting away. Anshi gasped aloud and began rushing after her.
"Wait!
Wait! Tenjou! Utena Tenjou! Wait, Tenjou-san!"
Utena turned, a small frown forming between her eyebrows. "I beg your
pardon?
Were you talking to me?"
Anshi stumbled to a stop. How could she have been so foolish- this woman
obviously wasn't Utena. Her hair was just a faded strawberry blond; her
eyes were a
vibrant blue, but not quite the same color. "Gomen," Anshi whispered
softly, casting her
eyes down to the dirty snow at her feet. "I^�I thought you were someone
else."
The woman smiled softly and laughed, a rich and lovely sound. "That's
okay, I
get it a lot. Don't worry about it. Have a good holiday."
Anshi nodded numbly and turned away. She couldn't help the frustrated
tears that
slipped down her cheeks as she clenched and unclenched her hands. This was
ridiculous,
she was twenty-four years old; she shouldn't be so upset over a little case
of mistaken
identity. In the distance she heard the young girl speaking to her mother
and Anshi had
to smile at the words: "Mommy, why was that lady crying? Did she hurt
herself?"
What did come as a surprise, however, was that the woman listened to her
daughter and returned. "Excuse me, Ma'am?"
Jumping a little under the gentle hand on her shoulder, Anshi quickly
swiped her
hand across her cheeks to wipe away the tears. "Yes?"
The woman bowed a little and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry for bothering
you,
but Yui was concerned about you and^�" She broke off and coughed a little, a
small flush
working its way across her cheeks. "You seemed lost. Maybe I can help you
find this
Utena Tenjou. It's the least I can do since you seem to be new in town."
Anshi shook her head. "Oh, no, I couldn't^�"
"Nonsense," the woman chided, taking Anshi's arm and threading it with her
own. "Why don't we go to a nice little bakery I know close to here and you
can tell me
where you've looked already, and maybe we could find your friend?"
Unexpectedly warmed by the woman's gentle grace, Anshi smiled softly.
"Thank
you," she murmured, and made a face at the little girl trundling blissfully
alongside her
mother. Yui giggled and Anshi thrilled at the gleeful sound.
How many years would pass before she would have a child of her own? To be
honest she'd never really thought much on it, but in her heart of hearts,
Anshi knew it
would probably never happen. Her entire life she'd spent living for her
brother, then
after she left, looking for Utena. Much may have changed, but never that.
Anshi knew
that Utena would want her to live her own life eventually, but Anshi just
couldn't forget
her savior that easily.
"Here we are," announced the woman, and Anshi blinked in surprise. She had
been woolgathering much too long; they must have walked five blocks without
her
noticing the distance at all.
"It's lovely," she murmured as they entered the warm shop. The neighborhood
bakery her new friend had brought her to was actually a bakery-deli combo.
There were
art deco paintings on the wall and even three threadbare comfy couches
nestled in the far
corner next to a happily brewing coffeepot. Their feet clicked across
inlaid wooden
floors buffed to a warm and homey shine. The handsome willowy blond behind
the
counter smiled warmly at them as they entered and wiped his hands on a paper
towel.
The fresh, yeasty smell of the bread made Anshi's stomach growl with
appreciation and
at the sound the young woman at her side laughed merrily. "Hungry?"
Anshi ducked her head and laughed a bit. "I suppose I am. I just ate
but^�well,
one roll wouldn't hurt, would it?"
"Of course not," the woman laughed. "Make it two and the usual, Adam."
The teenager behind the counter nodded. "Sure thing, Miss Nurri."
"Nurri?" Anshi was glad to hear the woman's name. Now she had a name to go
with the gentle, warm face. "Arrigato, Nurri-san for your kindness."
Nurri-san stuck her tongue out at Anshi in a very childlike manner. "Now,
now,
none of that 'san' business. I left Japan when I was a kid, I don't intend
to go back and
play 'I'm more lowly than you' game. Call me Yamika."
"But," Anshi protested, "I-"
Yamika frowned. "No. And that's final."
Smiling a bit in consternation, Anshi finally nodded. "As you wish, Yamika.
But
I insist you call me Anshi."
"What a lovely name!" Yamika exclaimed as she settled Yui into the child's
booster seat and the waitress set a steaming bowl of fondu in front of them.
Anshi
glanced quizzically at the food and Yamika laughed. "Oh, don't worry. This
is my
cousin's shop. He always sends out the 'gajin side of the family' cheese
fondu to go with
the bread bowl and rolls. It's his favorite recipe to torment me with. Eat
to your heart's
content, it's on the house."
Her stomach growled once more and Anshi laughed happily. There was
something about this woman that struck a familiar chord within her. She
might not be
Utena, but many of her mannerisms and kindnesses were similar. It caused a
small pang
deep within the retired Rose Bride even as it warmed her heart. As she dug
into the hot
mess of cheese and spices she sent up a quiet wish to whatever nearby gods
that might be
listening: Please, please let me find her. Just one clue, that's all I ask.
Somewhere, someplace, someone must have been listening.
"Adam!" cried a young girl of about nine who rushed into the shop fresh from
school. Long pink-tinted lavender locks spilled in waves down her back,
nicely
complementing her coffee au late complexion and scarlet jumper to
perfection. "Adam,
Adam, Adam!!"
"Shush, Sari-chan," laughed the boy. "You'll disturb the customers."
But it wasn't just the sudden arrival of the noisy child that drew Anshi's
attention.
It was the way the light played upon the necklace draped around the child's
neck. The
very shiny silver necklace. The very shiny silver necklace with a ring
dangling from the
end of it. The very shiny silver necklace with a swaying, dangling
rose-embossed ring.
Anshi felt faint.
The teenager, Adam, moved from around the counter and swung the child in a
high circle above his head. "Did you miss me, you scamp?"
Sari giggled merrily. "Of course I did!"
Setting her down on the floor, he called to the back: "Hey, Mister Saccaba?
My
kid sister's here! Can I go on my break?"
A hand waved from around the corner and Anshi almost laughed at the sight of
it.
Yamika smiled and said, "He is so busy he just nods or waves at everything.
But when
he takes a break, he'll come visit with us. How's the fondu?"
Anshi nodded, as her mouth was full. She kept an eye on Adam and Sari as
she
wiped a little bit of cheese off her chin. "It's wonderful. I've never
tasted better."
Yamika nodded towards Adam and his sister. "You seemed surprised when she
came in. She reminds you of someone too?" This was said with a teasing
grin, but Anshi
forced down a pang of regret at the words. But it was more than just
regret; it was a
shiver of foreboding and a momentary overwhelming sense of fright.
"Actually," Anshi murmured, desperately ignoring the way her heart was
hammering away in her chest, "she does a bit. Utena^�the woman I'm looking
for^�well, if she and someone I knew had a child, she would look quite a lot
like that
little girl over there."
Yamika frowned at the words. "I wish you knew who that poor little girl
belonged to." She put another bite of cheese-dipped bread in her mouth and
chewed
complacently while she watched her own daughter stuff herself on bread.
When she had
swallowed she sighed. "Sari and Adam are both orphans at St. Christopher's.
My cousin
wants to hire her to do some small work in the back like sweeping so she can
start saving
money for ballet lessons. He'd pay it himself, but St. Christopher's is
very strict on those
sorts of things. The best he can do is offer the kids there part time and
summer jobs in
the bakeries and stores he owns."
A strange feeling was working its way through Anshi's stomach as Yamika
spoke. This was sounding oddly familiar, and she didn't like it one bit.
"Orphans?"
Yamika nodded. "Yeah. I know Sari's story personally, she's in my dance
class
at the school."
Swallowing heavily, Anshi mustered her willpower and did something she
hadn't
done in years; she drew deep within her and found the one remaining bit of
magic she
had left. "Tell me everything."
At the quiet words, Yamika turned to her guest with a frown. "Now look,
Anshi,
you may be interested in the girl but I can't just^�" Her rebuttal was met
with the cool
green gaze of the witch one bright and innocent prince had freed almost ten
years before.
The words faded away and Yamika blinked sleepily. "Everything?"
Anshi nodded. "Everything."
Sari snuggled closer to Adam and tried to steal a bite of his sandwich off
his plate.
She loved Adam as much as anyone she knew, and it wasn't just because he was
handsome and kind and wonderful. She loved Adam because he was her prince.
Oh, yes,
she knew he thought of her as a kid sister despite the fact they were both
orphans and
neither one of them had a single relative left in the world. It didn't
matter to her; Adam
would always be her prince.
She'd known this since the day she'd started school, and Adam had saved her
from rabid dogs on the playground. One moment she'd been down on her knees
picking
up a dropped notebook, the next she'd been in the air, caught in the strong
arms of a nine-
year old boy as he pelted across the hot asphalt. Sari hadn't cried- she'd
been surprised
to say the least, but even as the strange boy ran faster and faster she felt
no fear, only a
sense of safety and security. They had come thundering up to the front door
of the school
and he'd practically dived through, still clutching Sari to his chest. The
sliding glass door
slammed behind them and less then two seconds later there had been a heavy
thump as
the first of the dogs rammed headfirst into the glass. Adam had been
breathing heavily,
but Sari could tell it was more from triumph that exertion. It was at that
moment she fell
madly, desperately, and completely in love. Only princes ran that fast and
were so
strong, just ask anyone.
He'd turned to her and said, "Hey kid, you'd better be more careful. You
were
almost Chow Mix back there."
Sari had just given him what Yamika-momma liked to call her assessing look.
It
was a look that said, 'I'm looking you over right now. Please hold.' He
had shifted
uncomfortably and Sari decided to let him off the hook. "Why would I want
to do that
when I have you?" She smiled her gap-toothed grin and he'd first looked at
her like she
was nuts, then began laughing.
Sari had worshipped him since, to his embarrassment and his friend's endless
amusement. It didn't matter much, she knew how special someone like Adam was
and
wasn't about to let dumb boys keep her away from her one true love. There
was only a
five and a half year difference between her and Adam, not long in the larger
scheme of
things, and come hell or high water, Adam would one day be hers. Now what
to do to
keep him from other girls until then, that was the difficult part.
Sari sighed and snuck another sideways glance at him. Adam would always see
her as a little girl as long as she remained one. He was so old already;
fourteen almost
fifteen, and she wouldn't be turning ten until December.
She smiled secretly and glanced around the shop as Adam ate. Her eyes
caught
on a strange and lovely woman sitting beside Yamika-momma's side and Sari
couldn't
help staring a little in surprise.
The woman's hair was the most striking shade of purple Sari had ever seen
and
her skin could have been a darker shadow of Sari's own. She even had a
bindi in the
middle of her forehead like those exotic women in the history books. Sari
self-
consciously brushed her slender hand across her forehead. When she'd seen
those
pictures all those years ago she'd so desperately wanted to have a bindi and
a scarlet robe
and be an exotic and foreign princess like those women. That is, until
she'd found out
that the bindi represented what caste a person came from and that it could
just as easily
mean she was subservient to a ton of people, never to be allowed to rise any
higher than
the position she was born in. If anything, Sari did not believe in
subservience. She was
an equal opportunity girl all the way and always had been.
Sari continued checking out the stranger, waiting for her prince to finish
his tuna
sub. There was something so stylish and serene about the woman- not to
mention
graceful- that drew the eye. The woman had on a jacket the same garish red
of Sari's
jumper and a black beret set on her tumbling waves at a jaunty angle. Even
her long
black skirt seemed to shift with a conscious grace and ease that Sari envied
in her heart of
hearts. But it was more than that; there was something so sad about the way
the woman
held herself too. Had she been hurt a long time ago by a lover or a friend
and was just
now beginning to heal? Sari knew that she had an overactive imagination
when it came
to such things, but she couldn't shake the feeling that her intuition was
correct on that
count at least. The woman was damaged in some distinct and important way
that just
wasn't visible to the naked eye, and Sari ached for her.
"You're being awfully quiet today, Squirt."
Sari jumped at the voice and returned her attention to Adam. "Maybe you
just
couldn't hear me over the sounds of you making a pig of yourself."
Adam stuck his tongue out at her and Sari responded in kind. The two tried
to
stare one another down and finally the blond boy gave in with a laugh when
Sari's hand
snuck out and tickled him. "Hey! That's cheating, you know."
Sari shrugged. "All's fair in love and war," she saucily replied and
winked. Then
her eyes were drawn back to the stranger like moths to a flame. "Hey, Adam,
what's that
woman doing here?"
Her erstwhile prince shrugged. "I don't know. She just came in with Yamika
and
they ordered some food. I don't keep tabs on the customers, Sari, you know
that."
Sari frowned a bit, and stole a chip off his plate. "Oh Adam, you're no
fun.
How're you going to know how to handle people unless you pay attention to
them, huh?"
He raised an eyebrow at her and ruffled her hair. "Maybe I don't want to
'handle'
people, Sari. Maybe I like them the way they are."
Sari sniffed haughtily in response. "You just don't know the right way to
do it."
Then she grew serious and fidgeted in her seat. "But really^�Adam, don't you
think
she's beautiful?"
He looked over at the woman and shrugged again. "I suppose so. But she's
too
classy to me. Doesn't look like she could hold her own if it came down to
it. I don't like
women like that."
Storing this little bit of pertinent information away in the file cabinet of
her mind,
Sari frowned a bit. "I don't know, don't you want to play the dashing
prince for some
girl someday?" Please say yes, please say yes, please say^�
"Not really."
Damn.
"Well," she pressed, "why not?"
Adam gave Sari an exasperated look and made as if to get up. "Look, Kid,
I've
got work to do and if you don't stop asking all these stupid questions I'm
going to^�"
"I'll stop," Sari muttered discontentedly. "Jeez, a girl just wants to ask
one or two
questions."
His arm snaked around her and Sari felt her heart thump a little harder in
her
chest. Yep, for all of Adam's non-romantic moments, when he held her like
this^�it
made every one of them worthwhile. He murmured in her ear and she pulled
away a bit.
"I didn't hear you."
Adam sighed and hugged her tighter. "I said," he groused, "that you should
just
leave the poor woman alone. Go to dance class and I'll walk you home later,
okay?"
She wrinkled her nose at him in what she hoped was a cute gesture. "Why do
you
want to walk me home? Afraid I can't handle myself?"
Her heart thumped again as Adam frowned. This time the frown was different,
it
was more protective and fierce then annoyed. "If anything happened to you
Sari, I'd
make who ever did it regret being born. But no, it's not that I think
anything would
happen, it's just that I'd feel better being there anyway. You don't mind,
right?"
She shook her head rapidly, trying to take in air through her tight throat.
"Not at
all," she whispered breathily. "See you at seven then."
Adam nodded and he leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.
"Have fun, Sari."
"Right," she muttered as she walked out the door, conscious that the woman's
eyes were following her every move now. "Fun."
As she trudged down the street to class, Sari tried hard to not think about
the
strange woman or Adam. Now was the time to prepare for what lay ahead. Or,
to more
precise, who lay ahead.
Erin Moanohie was the bane of young Sari's life. She was twelve and thought
that just because she was stronger than everyone else at St. Christopher's
that meant she
could rule over them. Plus she was already wearing a training bra and let
all the littler
girls know it. It was a mark of pride and she abused it on a daily basis.
Sari loathed and
despised bullies with a violent passion. The main problem was that Erin was
a decent
dancer and when time for performances rolled around it was always a tossup
between the
graceful and tiny Sari and the tall and swanlike Erin. So far they were on
equal ground.
Sari had gotten to play the Mermaid Princess and Snow White whereas Erin had
been
given Sleeping Beauty and Rapunzel. The only performance left was the
Christmas show
and today the decisions from last week's auditions would be posted. As far
as anyone
knew it was going to be that wonderful old Christmas stand in, The
Nutcracker.
Personally, Sari knew she was a shoe in for the role of the Sugarplum Fairy.
Erin
hadn't practiced the piece at all until a week before the auditions and so
she didn't know
the ins and outs of it quite the same way Sari did. But what Sari was
worried about
wasn't during practice, but rather after. Long after, like say, after the
lights were out and
Erin was free to sneak out of her room and make poor Sari's life miserable
by dropping
rats in her bed or tearing her posters or even trying to get into her
drawers again.
Sari's delicate face twisted into a scowl at that. Though she wore her
necklace
twenty four-seven, she was terrified that one day she would wake up to
discover Erin had
somehow managed to take her necklace off in the middle of the night and
conveniently
'lose' it. She shuddered at the thought. As it was the only thing she had
of her mother,
the thought of losing her necklace horrified her.
After a few short blocks Sari finally arrived at the dance academy.
"You're late, Sari dear," called Madame Norris as Sari rushed across the
floor
towards the changing rooms. "You'll stay after as punishment."
"Yes, Madame Norris," she called back, grimacing a little. She'd spent too
much
time with Adam on his break, but that exotic woman had caught her attention
and she
hadn't been paying attention to the time. Oh well, she needed practice on
her high kicks
anyway.
Sari quickly donned her favorite leotard and tights, before slipping on her
jazz
shoes. It was Thursday, which meant they were working on combinations, not
concentrating on one style of dance or another. Sari had once read a
Japanese comic
book ^�Adam had smugly informed her they were called manga and she'd just
ignored
him- where the main guy practiced a style of martial arts called Anything
Goes. Well if a
dance class could be considered an Anything Goes style, this one would be
it. They did
everything but cheerleading and that was just because Madame Norris thought
it was
beneath them.
Sari paused in front of the mirror to adjust the leotard and pull her hair
back into
its customary bow, but something caught her eye. Even though she was still
young, Sari
knew one day she'd be very pretty if not downright beautiful. It wasn't
just the fact she
had exotic coloring naturally- her pale tinted hair and dark skin were
certainly a
distinctive combination- nor was it the fact she would probably always be
tiny and
delicate her entire life ^�even at nine Sari could tell she wasn't going to
grow to be too
much taller. At best she'd be five feet with an inch or two to spare. It
was more than just
that, it was the look in her eyes. It reminded her so much of the woman in
the coffee
shop.
I want something, Sari realized. I'm not happy here, am I?
But what could she want that she didn't have? She had a reminder of her
mother;
that was more than anyone else at St. Christopher's had, she had a wonderful
companion
and protector rolled into one (one that all of the girls adored on top of
that), and she was
phenomenally intelligent. What more could a girl want?
A family.
Sari grimaced and yanked a brush through her thick hair. Family was a silly
notion. Family implied something stable and permanent and eternal. Family
suggested a
home with a cat perched on the windowsill and a kitchen filled with shiny
pots and pans
and only four or five bedrooms with only four or five people. Family made
you think of
holiday breaks and board games and silly fights because so many people were
crammed
into a little car on a family vacation. Family^�
Family^�
Family was just silly.
Sari continued yanking her brush harder and harder through her defenseless
hair,
bullying the knots into submission as she thought about the implications of
family.
In a family you had people that stayed up late at night and worried about
you if
you stayed after in dance class. You had guilt trips if you didn't do the
dishes, you had
breakups over silly things like who your brother wanted to marry or what
that crazy aunt
on your dad's side said last Christmas. You were tied down, you had roots.
The thought made Sari shiver. You had people depending on you to be perfect
and loving and most importantly of all, there. You couldn't just up and run
away to
Japan on a moment's notice to explore the origins of a strange rose-crested
ring you
found with your birth certificate. You couldn't try and find your dead
mother's grave or
hunt down the man that abandoned her and left her alone and pregna^�
Sari broke off that line of thinking. This is silly, she thought. Why did
that
woman have such an effect on me? I don't get it.
She frowned and took one last look at herself in the mirror.
Hair tied back in a tight bun?
Check.
Favorite black leotard on straight with no wedgies?
Check
Jazz shoes laced up tightly and tights pulled up?
Check.
Mentally prepared for Erin?
No, but that could be fixed.
Sari grinned roguishly and raced out the door to the dance floor.
It was going to be a long and worthwhile night.
Adam filled two fresh glasses of tea and brought them to Yamika and her
guest.
They'd been talking in earnest ever since his break with Sari and that had
been two hours
ago. He hoped it wasn't something too important, that woman looked like she
could be
some sort of inspector or something and the last thing the shop needed right
now was an
audit or a health code violation.
He frowned at himself as he set the cups down and was absently thanked.
That
had been a silly thought; the back was spotless and nothing, come hell or
high water,
would make the IRS audit them.
Sighing, he returned to the counter and began cleaning up for the day. It
would be
late soon and he'd have to go get Sari. If she was tardy to her lessons,
she would be
staying behind and that would mean almost an hour of waiting and watching
her practice.
He didn't mind though.
Adam loved watching people dance and always had. He could two-step with the
best of them, but when it came down to actual performance art he left all
the plies and
grapevines to Sari. She was incredibly good at it too, already Adam could
see that a few
years from now she'd be beating off the offers to train at the world's
finest dancing
academies. In a way it saddened him.
When he really looked deep at those feelings, the thought of her leaving did
more
than just that though. When he thought of Sari waltzing her way out of his
life it terrified
him. It wasn't just that Sari had the world's largest crush on him; it was
more than that.
Adam loved her a great deal, maybe not fully in the way she fantasized
about, but he
hoped to be there when the day arrived that she realized exactly how unique
and special
she was. In his own way Adam recognized the fact that even at nine Sari was
ravishingly
pretty and well on her way to drop dead beautiful. It was just the fact
that he couldn't
quite equate in his mind the bright and bubbly five year old he'd met all
those years ago
to the stunning little girl who was growing up more each and every day.
Adam sighed. He couldn't do much in this world, he knew and understood that
perfectly. Unlike Sari, Adam had no real desire to seek out his family.
Thanks to a late
night raid through the record cabinets and a hacked computer job he knew the
answer to
every burning question he'd asked himself. It hadn't been that someone
hadn't wanted
him; it was just that life sucked and circumstances had made things
convoluted. He was
okay with that. Maybe one day he'd hunt out distant relations he now had
addresses for,
maybe one day he wouldn't. Either way, at least he knew.
On the other hand, knowing the little bit of knowledge she did about her
mother
and the ring she always wore made Sari even more desperate to know about her
past. It
had been Sari who'd found the spare key to the office, Sari who'd hunted
until she found
the key to the locked cabinets, Sari who'd studied the school's computer
system until
she'd found a loophole into their records.
The damn kid was way too smart for her own damn good.
Next to her, Adam felt just like a dumb jock.
Finishing the cleanup job, Adam waved at Yamika and her guest before
clocking
out. He had a snoop to go pick up.
Anshi sat back. That had been a long story indeed. When she'd told the
woman
to tell her everything, she hadn't intended Yamika's impressions of the
young girl as
well. Oh well, it was for the best. Now she had a clear idea who this Sari
was and
exactly what she was doing there.
A small smile drifted across her lips. Even after seeing the ring, she'd
had her
doubts. Who knew how many women Akio had been with over the years? It was
quite
possible her ever-vigilant brother had slipped up one and had mistakenly
sent a girl away
from Ohtori with more than just a diploma to see her off into the real
world.
But it was the girl's full name that cinched it.
Himemiya Sari.
She had a niece.
Anshi fiddled with her cup, watching the dregs of the tea slip along the
bottom in
a sort of peaceful stupor. Whatever in the world had possessed Utena to
leave her child in
America?
Sighing inwardly, Anshi left Yamika with a closing spell. It would make the
woman very happy, and give her a sense of accomplishment. It wasn't
necessary to dull
this one's memories; she was too open and honest for it to work long anyway.
Yamika
had done what was right, now it was just a matter of making her know that.
Once finished, Anshi said her polite goodbyes and followed the boy Adam out
into the street. She had heard his quiet whisper from earlier and decided
on the spot that
when he left, she would too.
After all, it wasn't every day that the clue you'd been searching for just
bounded
into your life with a tinkle of a shop-bell and a gust of fresh October air.
"And one, and two, and three, and four- kick higher Sari dear, your form is
getting sloppy."
Grimacing in pain, Sari straightened her back and fought to kick higher. In
her
few short years as a dancer she'd gained a reputation for being the most
flexible member
of the company, surpassing even Madame Norris for sheer freak-show factor.
She could
bend her body in ways that even hurt to look at, but still that wasn't
enough for the
Russian-trained instructor. "More," she commanded, laying her hand in the
small of
Sari's back. "You are overconfident, Sari. It's making you off-balance.
Slow down and
try again." The music, a slow, throbbing beat punctuated the words as well
as an
occasional tribal yell.
Sari closed her eyes, found her center, and began again. Dimly she heard
the far
door open, but she kept them tightly shut as she swept her leg in it's
continual high arc
and tried for the world not to scream as the burning heat in her thighs
increased.
"That's enough for one day, Sari. Thank you."
Sari nearly dropped from exhaustion. As it was, she slowly slid to the
floor and
lay there panting as Madame Norris turned off the stereo and went to her
office to finish
up the night's paperwork before going home. The familiar clomp of Adam's
feet on the
dance floor brought her out of it enough to grimace. "Shoes," she reminded
him.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry," he called as he quickly dropped to the floor and slid
off his
shoes. That done, he crawled over on his hands and knees and laid her head
in his lap,
stroking her sweaty hair. "Looks like you worked really hard today,
Squirt."
"You're telling me," she panted. "But the good news is, I got the part."
He grinned. "So I can look forward to you dancing through my head come
Christmas time, Ms. Fairy?"
Sari shook her head. "No. It's crazy, but the other two dance instructors-
you
know the really weird new ones? - decided on a different show this year.
We're doing
something called 'The Rose Prince's Return'. How weird is that?"
"Pretty weird," he agreed. "Sounds almost like it should be performed for
Halloween, not Christmas. So who do you play?"
Pursing her lips, Sari frowned. "You know, I don't know. All I know is
that
when I looked at the corkboard it just said I had the lead and that all the
other girls were
'G-ko through Z-ko' with some 'random plot devices' for others. Too strange
for me."
"G-ko? What kind of character is that?" he mused. "Oh well, maybe they'll
tell
you more tomorrow."
Grimacing as she sat up, Sari groaned. "No practice tomorrow. Madame
Norris
is going to be busy, and the other two teachers have jobs with drama schools
around town
so everything was cancelled tomorrow. That plus the day off from school and
I get to
sleep in."
"Lucky," he chided. "I have to work first thing in the morning."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Ha, ha. You have to work."
He shook his head in defeat. "Go get dressed, Squirt. You need to take a
hot
shower when we hit the dorms. You stink."
Sari smacked him lightly on the arm and trudged off to the changing room.
She
must have really worked hard today, he thought, she always runs everywhere.
She really
looks beat. Maybe I'll offer to piggyback her home.
A few minutes later, Adam was doing just that.
As the two made their way through the early evening throng, Anshi silently
followed. As soon as she knew where the two were staying, she could rest
easy. After
all, she was the only one other than Utena who now knew that Sari existed.
Surely after
all this time it would be safe to just take a day or two break? Ohtori
could wait, if only
for a little bit longer.
Just a little bit.
<<
-Shitsureishimasu ^_^
[Goodbye (very polite)]
-Jason Monti
jmm769s@smsu.edu (primary)
jmm314@yahoo.com
http://www.student.smsu.edu/j/jmm769s/home.htm