[FFML] [fic][Utena] Afterimage 4/16

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Afterimage
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Shoujo Kakumei Utena - la fillette
revolutionnaire" (C) Be-PaPas, Chiho Saito/Shogakukan,
Shokaku Iinkai, TV Tokyo. The US version
"Revolutionary Girl Utena" is (C) Central Park Media.
Afterimage and all original characters and plot
copyright 2001-3 by Aishuu Shadowweaver. Please ask
permission before reposting.
Dedication: Dedicated to Lyra, who loves Touga as much
as I loath him.
Note: Earlier parts can be found on my website,
http://www.midnightrevolution,com/quicksilver. This
contains mature subjects - if you've seen the entire
Utena series, you should be able to handle it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part Four: Sealed Darkness
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I am not the man I once was.

That man -boy- is dead, as dead as the autumn leaves
that fall to the ground in late October, their beauty
faded and never to return. At times I mourn slightly
for him, the sensual and self-assured youth who was
determined to revolutionize the world, no matter the
means he would have to use, but those times are few
and far between. I believe I've grown wiser with age,
and wisdom, while painful, is something never to be
regretted.

Sometimes I look back and wonder when it all changed.
When did my perspective alter, and things I once
valued become no more important than those autumn
leaves buried under the snow? I�ve always been
something of a ladies� man, but when I was younger, I
couldn�t even keep my girlfriends straight. They came
through my life one after another, until their faces
blurred in my memories and their names didn�t matter.

I loved women- their soft bodies embracing mine in
passion, the way they begged for my attention, the way
they did anything I asked of them. Having my way with
the prettiest of them came as naturally to me as
breathing, yet even locked in the throes of passion, I
was distant from my partners.

I never had a lover. Don�t get me wrong, I had sex.
Plenty of sex. Tall women, short women, young and old.
As long as they were pretty, they were mine. But none
of them ever touched me more then physically, no
matter what they may have desired. I know sex and love
are two very different things, and sometimes I wonder
why I�ve never had the later. It�s not that I�m
incapable- merely that none of those women who paraded
through my life was able to hold my attention.

And neither did any of the men.

That surprised some people- the fact that I didn�t
really care about gender. Pleasure is pleasure� it
doesn�t matter how it is achieved. I took whoever
caught my attention, and they invariably bent to my
wishes. I am the epitome of what a man should be, or
so I have been told. I am handsome, talented,
intelligent� I say that without vanity, for I believe
in being aware of strength, as well as weakness.

The only thing all my lovers had in common was that
they were beautiful, physically. I couldn�t stand to
be touched by anyone who didn�t have a blinding
beauty- I never bothered to look beneath the skin to
see their character, though, since I didn�t want to
know. None of them were what I was looking for, and if
I didn�t know them, I could pretend that my trysts
meant more then sheer lust.

No one loved me for I wasn�t worth loving.

Nanami thought she loved me above all else, but I knew
that someday she would find someone else to take my
place, even if she didn�t want that to happen. She was
my sister but I could not be everything she needed.
Sometimes I thought that was a good thing- she was all
I had in the world that I valued, so of course I had
to distance myself from her. I didn�t want to tarnish
her with my shadow.

University passed for me much like high school had-
the studies were simple, and the people fell all over
me, doing whatever I wanted. I was beautiful, I was
rich, I was charismatic, popular and brilliant... I
was everything everyone else wanted to have and be.
But I was unsatisfied with my life, and I didn�t know
why. Inside of myself, I longed for something. I knew
that there had to be more to life than what I was
doing, but I couldn�t figure out what.

I went into my father�s business, quickly taking over
the helm of some of the more important companies.
Under my guidance, their assets multiplied, but there
was no challenge in it. It was easy for me, as
everything in my life was.

That was my story: everything coming to my hands, yet
I remained unsatisfied.

A year ago, I looked into a mirror, and realized I was
bored. Bored of life, bored of always having success
fall into my lap. There was something I wanted,
something out of my reach... but I didn�t know what it
was. It frustrated me, and I was starting to doubt
whether I would ever find that elusive thing to make
my life worthwhile. As I stared at my face, I realized
that nothing had changed for me. I was frozen in time,
locked in some kind of stasis I couldn�t break. Within
me slumbered the dream of something great, but I
couldn�t realize it. There was something holding me
back.

Without conscious thought, my fist clenched, and I
sent it through the mirror, sending the sparkling
shards flying. I wanted to break the me I saw
reflected in the mirror, break the shallow man I was.
I wanted... more. I always wanted more. Blood dripped
down my hand, and I stared at the bright crimson
drops, wondering if there was an answer in them.

My current lover, a foreign girl named Rachel, was the
one who found me. She came running when she heard the
glass shattering, and her shocked _expression amused
me. I turned to her, my long red hair loose around my
bare shoulders, an enticing sight, I�m quite sure, but
for once I wasn�t trying to seduce her.

"Sometimes I think I�m going mad..." I whispered to
her.

She shook her head, her wide blue eyes glazing in
shock. "Let me get some bandages, Touga...."

I stared at the blood, which was running down in slow
crimson streams, resembling the way my hair plastered
against my skin in a fierce rainstorm. It was
beautiful, and I barely felt the pain. Instead, I
walked over to her, placing my hand against her pale
cheek. She flinched a bit at the feel of the sticky
substance against her face, but I bent to catch her
lips with my own. "Don�t bother," I whispered, before
running my hand over her face, leaving a trail of
blood on her features, following it with my tongue to
taste the copper flavor it left behind.

The sex was wonderful, some of the best sex I
remember. There is something about blood and sex,
something primal that stirred my instincts. But she
left the next morning, and I was alone, left with a
hand that burned from healing and a turbulent mind.

I made no move to replace her with another lover.

I hated my life, but I had no idea how to break my
cage. I was trapped in a dance I had been groomed for
since birth, and no matter which way I turned, I would
forever be waltzing it. I was Kiryuu Touga, and I
could not escape it. Learned patterns of behavior were
such impossible things to break unconsciously. With
Rachel gone, it took a conscious effort to learn not
to think about sex and sensuality every moment. I
would not find what I needed through the bedroom; I
had tried and tried that, but my answers were not
there. I was still considering my options months
later, at loose ends...

And then... Nanami graduated and with it, came Miki�s
return.

Miki was not one of the people I had desired. His
sister and I had, at one brief point, flirted with
each other, but each of us had been pulled away from
each other before a relationship had been consummated.
I was relieved for that, because Kozue later became
Nanami�s closest friend, and that would have made
things awkward between us. But Miki....

Kaoru Miki made me uncomfortable, challenging me
simply by being. He was everything I was but lacking
my fault. He held my perfection and tempered it with
purity. How could I desire him? Every time I saw him,
I was forcibly reminded of my sins.

But the night of Nanami�s graduation party, I realized
that underneath Miki�s gentle nature, a storm was
brewing. He slapped my sister, and though I didn�t
know why, I knew that something was moving. Our worlds
were turning, and deep inside of me, I felt like the
day was about to break.

But they say the darkest hour is always before the
dawn.

Those next few days were the worst. I called Juri,
demanding that Miki be held accountable for assaulting
my sister, and then things were eerily quiet. I waited
patiently, remembering how many times before I had set
intricate plans in motion only to see them come to
fruition months or years later. It wasn�t until the
third day, when I was in the middle of breakfast, that
my butler ushered in Arisagawa Juri, with Kaoru Miki a
step behind her. Nanami stood a few feet behind them,
her eyes watching them in resignation.

I set my cup of tea down. "Juri? Is there anything I
can do for you?"

The elegant woman stepped towards me, her long hair
flowing entrancingly around her like a living cape.
She had always been one of the few women I had
respected as a person, yet had not lusted after. She
was beautiful, stunning� all the things a woman wanted
to see when she gazed into the mirror to see her
reflection look back at her. Still, I realized that
she couldn�t be what I wanted. Inside, she was
fragile. Saionji had teased me about letting a
perfectly good dyke go to waste- after all, shouldn�t
I cure her of her misguided attraction to that
purple-haired chit she had mooned about in high
school?

I had laughed. Juri wasn�t a lesbian anymore then I
was gay. She merely appreciated beauty in all its
forms, and ignored the person�s body to try to see the
soul within. Usually she was perceptive, but she had a
curious blindness towards Shiori that I found amusing.

"We have some questions for you." Her voice was brisk
and business like, but something in her aqua eyes
seemed on the verge of combusting. There was fire in
them, fire which had been missing the last few times
we had encountered each other socially. I liked it,
liked seeing her alive like that. It was like the
spark that I had been missing had found its way into
her, and maybe she would be able to ignite me as well.

I tilted my head, wondering what she wanted. I hadn�t
anticipated being the focus of animosity, but I
enjoyed it. I loved being the center of attention.
"Oh?" I asked, tilting my head. "I have answers, but
maybe they�re not the ones to the questions you�re
looking for."

The look on her face was priceless. Toying with Juri
had been one of my favorite high school pastimes,
after sex, and pretending to know more than I really
did was a specialty of mine. I had no clue what she
wanted, but there was no way I�d ever let her know
that. They talk about a feminine mystique, but I had a
mystique of my own to maintain.

Nanami, though, looked at Juri and Miki. She smiled at
them gently, "You promised me that I could speak to
him," she told them, then came towards me. Her hand
raised, and I noticed a ring on her finger flashing,
one of the rings that members of the student council
had been given. "Do you remember? You gave this to me,
and asked me to show you my power?" she whispered.

I blinked, staring hard at the ring. "I gave it to you
when you took over for me," I told her. "Senior year,
I got sick." That year... was so blurred... whenever I
sent my thoughts towards it, I hit a mist, unable to
recall. Juri and Miki exchanged glanced. "He doesn�t
remember, Nanami," Juri said softly, turning to take a
box from Miki I hadn�t noticed the blue-haired man was
carrying. "Touga, take this," she said. "It might
trigger something."

"No, oniisama, don�t!" Nanami begged, trying to
intercept the box Juri was handing my way.

I raised an eyebrow curiously, as the box slipped into
my hands. The lid was latched with an elaborate, but
practically useless, engraved catch. "Why shouldn�t
I?"

Nanami looked like she was ready to strangle Juri as
she wheeled on the other women. "He doesn�t remember.
Leave him out of this!" she demanded angrily,
clenching her small fists to her side.

Surprisingly it was Miki, the quiet one, who answered.
"Hush, Nanami," he ordered, his voice holding
surprising authority. "He needs to do this." He placed
a calming hand on her shoulder, which she glared at
like it was a viper.

I was too curious now to listen to her anyway. I
opened the case, and the scent of roses wafted out,
stirring vague memories. I gave roses to many women,
often as a morning after present. The crimson petals
were piled high, and I had to brush them aside to see
a sword. The light flickered off the slender metal,
and my head started to spin. I had held this sword
before, once. I pulled it out, and memory returned.

Roses even redder than the petals in the box, flying
away from me as I lost, knocked away by a Victor. A
man with white hair who showed me places no mortal
should see. A platform where eternity was battled for�
and a girl who refused me.

The only girl who had ever refused me.

"Oniisama?" Nanami whispered nervously, her soft voice
shaking me out of my trance.

"I carried this sword once, pretending to be a
prince," I whispered. "But it was never really mine."

"You don�t want it. It�s a malevolent object, the
Sword of Dios�" Nanami said, bitterness lacing her
words.

"The Sword of Utena," I corrected. "She made it hers."
I caressed the flat of the blade gently. "And if it
was hers, it can�t truly be evil- Utena didn�t have
any evil in her heart."

"Didn�t she?" Nanami asked. "She was seduced by Akio."

I gave her a narrow look. "How do you know that?" I
demanded. I hated the memory of Utena in his arms, but
I couldn�t deny it, as much as I wanted to.

"She stayed with them, Anshi and Akio... the devil and
the witch." Nanami�s eyes flared. "I stayed with them!
I saw..." Her direct gaze faltered, and then I watched
her withdraw into herself.

I remembered. I remembered then, the lies about my
adoption. Stepping closer to her, I used the tips of
my fingers to grasp her sharp chin in my hand so I
could force her to meet my eyes. "Nanami... the lies
back then were built upon a truth. I was adopted...
but so were you. We were both sent to the Kiryuu
residence together."

She looked at me, and then her hand reached up to grip
mine. I felt the cool press of her ring against my
skin, and my eyes widened in surprise when she stepped
back. "The cruelest lies are based off the truth,
aren�t they, oniisama?" she asked.

I nodded slowly. "I should have told you back then,
but I was young." I looked at her fair head, wondering
why I had thought it romantic to torment her. It had
been cruel, and if I had been a good brother, the kind
of brother she deserved, I never would have thought of
it. I would have protected her, as she deserved, as
she believed I always would.

I never would have let her become a Duelist.

"We all were," she said softly.

I glanced around at our gathering, realizing that we
were still incomplete. "We�re missing someone..." I
looked at Nanami and Miki with tired, world-weary
eyes. "I�m not the one with the answers you want," I
told them. "Maybe Saionji would know something?" I
suggested.

Juri shook her head. "None of us remembered anything.
It was only after we saw the sword that memories were
triggered, and I don�t think bringing Saionji in on
this would be a good idea. He and Utena never got
along."

I thought on that for a minute. "I would like to talk
to him anyway," I told them. I glanced down at the
sword in my hand, feeling its comforting weight. I
hadn�t practiced kendo in ages, but this sword
reminded me of the calluses I had lost. I would need
to start practicing again, because...

I started a bit at the train of my thoughts. Would I
need to wield a sword, to seek the revolution?

To seek her?

I thought of her resolute blue eyes staring up at me,
knowing that I would do anything to see them again. A
smile played across my lips, before gently returning
her sword back to the box. We won�t be able to find
you, Utena, but if we do, perhaps this time, you can
have lunch with me. We can laugh at the old times, and
forget about the pain of the past, I thought.

"I�m going to see Saionji," I announced. I had to at
least make the effort to close the book on this
chapter of my life - perhaps that was what I needed. I
had been frozen in stasis, never knowing that I had
never moved forward from that rejection.

Juri and Miki looked at me with mistrust, but Nanami
came and helped me fasten the latch. "Do you want me
to go with you?" she asked hesitantly.

I shook my head. "I�ll see him on my own," I told
them. "None of you like Saionji, and he�ll be hard
enough to deal with as it is."

Juri walked over to us, picking up the box with sure
hands and handing it to me. "You don�t like him,
either. I don�t know if it�s a good idea..."

I smiled at her, resisting the urge to pat her on the
head like a child and assure her things would be all
right. Saionji and I had an understanding, the kind
only rivals could. He was my opposite as I was his. He
would speak to me because he was unable to deny me and
the challenge I represented. Rivals never truly let
each other go; ours was an intense love that defied
words.

I turned to leave, holding the box in my hands. Miki,
though, caught my should in a surprisingly strong
hand, catching me off guard. I turned to look at him,
and was surprised that he was almost tall enough to
look me directly in the eyes. His face was too
beautiful to be handsome, but as I stared at him, it
dawned on me he wasn�t the child who had Dueled for
that shining thing he didn�t understand.

Kaoru Miki had grown up.

"What do you want?" I grated out.

His hand fell away, but his deep blue eyes remained on
mine, unwavering from their goal. "I want you to come
back when you�re done talking to him and tell us what
you�ve learned," he told me.

A smile tugged at my lips. "What makes you think I
won�t?"

He glanced over at the girls, before raising his hand
to rest it on my chest directly over where my heart
beat. "I know you, Touga. I know you know how to lie
better than any of us," he said. "If we�re going to
find her, we need to work together." He pressed his
fingertips deeply into my shirt, and I felt the
implied threat. He wasn�t a cub anymore, but a lion
ready to show his fangs. "So come back, and tell us
the truth of what you learn."

My smile widened and I winked at him before
disappearing out the door. I didn�t know what to say,
but I knew I didn�t want to made any promises. If
there was one think I had learned, it was the power of
a promise, and not being able to keep one.

Saionji�s house was a half an hour away from mine. He
had gone to a different college than I had, but we
still met once a week for lunch usually to discuss
everything from business and politics to our current
projects, each carefully taunting the other without
crossing that invisible line. There was nothing like a
beloved enemy, and I knew his schedule as well as my
own. He dabbled in investment, but his true love was
being a patron of the arts. He was quickly gaining a
reputation as an art critic and I trusted his taste
whenever I went to purchase something. He had an eye
for the up and coming artists and I knew that by the
time he was thirty, he would be opening recognized as
Japan�s foremost expert on modern art. He wouldn�t be
expecting me, but my arrival wouldn�t throw him that
badly.

I needed the sword and the memories it would invoke to
do that. I needed to take Saionji off-guard if I would
ever be able to get anything useful from him. Each of
us Duelists had a piece of the puzzle, I would wager,
and I wondered if he held one of the vital pieces.

When I arrived, Saionji�s butler ushered me to the
sunroom where we often conversed. After turning down
an offer of tea, I took a place on the couch, placing
the box on my knees. Saionji would keep me waiting for
a few minutes before arriving.

Sure enough, that was what he did. He leaned against
the doorframe, studying me. It had taken him ten
minutes for him to show up, and I could tell he was in
a particularly prickly mood. His eyes were sharp and I
knew now was not the best time to toy with him.

But no one ever accused me of being overly cautious.
"Hello, Saionji," I said.
"Hello." He came into a room, and I felt our ongoing
power struggle renew. "What do you have there? Some
kind of art you wanted me to look at?" He gave me a
considering look.

Oh, it was art, I thought. Perhaps one of the greatest
masterpieces ever created. I considered for a second,
wondering if I should continue to bait him, or if I
should confront him immediately.

Saionji�s eyes were curious as he studied the box.
"The box is interesting, but I hope there�s something
inside. I don�t think the box is going to gain much
value."

"Inside is the key to the future," I whispered.

"Huh?" Saionji said, but there was something in his
face that grew guarded. I noted it, wondering.

My hands undid the clasp with ease, and then I was
delving into the red rose petals, which filled the
room with their sweet, almost overpowering, fragrance.
My hands immediately found the hilt, and then the
Sword of Dios was rising as though it weighed nothing,
taking my hand with it as it drew itself into the
light.

Saionji�s eyes widened substantially when he saw what
I was holding. "Where did you get that?" he demanded
fiercely. "Put that cursed thing down!" he ordered.
There was fear in Saionji�s eyes, genuine fear,
something I had never seen reflected there.

One thing became immediately clear to me as I sat in
that sunroom, with the midmorning sun reflecting off
the blade of the sword. My breath quickened, and it
was all I could do not to rise to my feet and level
the blade at my friend�s, my rival�s, throat.

He remembered.

The bastard had recognized the sword on sight, with no
pause for unfogging memories. "Saionji!" I snapped
angrily. "You will tell me what you know!" I ordered
in a dangerously soft voice, a voice which no one was
ever able to deny.

His answering smile was mocking. "Know? I know
nothing. And admitting that is the first step to
finding the truth." Still, his eyes lingered on the
sword, rather than on me, and I knew I had rattled his
confidence. Inside of his soul, he was shaking in
fear.

"Knowledge is admitting you know nothing?" I reflected
back at him bitterly. "I�m not in the mood for games,
Saionji. Tell me about the Duels, and where Utena is."

He looked at me, and came closer. Saionji was
intimidating at that moment, threatening and wild like
a tiger just let off a chain. He backhanded my wrist
hard enough to cause me to drop the sword in surprise.
Neither of us watched it fly across the room, but I
heard it chime against the floor, a musical sound that
was impossible for plain metal to make against wood;
instead our eyes locked in a battle of will. "You know
nothing," he told me. "Keep it that way, Kiryuu Touga.
Don�t invite the devil to dance; he�s contained at
Ohtori right now, but speak his name and you may
summon him."

I stared him down. "I promised my sister."

"Haven�t you broken promises to her before? Take my
word, Touga, and break this one. It�s for her own
good."

I leaned forward in the seat, glancing over at the
sword. "Now that the Sword of Dios is back in our
lives, it must be dealt with. It�s not something that
can wander around without a wielder, and do you trust
any of us to wield it? Have we truly grown enough?
Tell me about Utena and the Duels... I don�t remember
everything in a linear fashion - my memories are like
pieces of a shattered mirror."

Saionji shut his eyes, he shook his head. "I can�t."
He spoke more quietly, and some of his characteristic
darkness faded away, leaving weariness to take its
place.

I stared angrily at the man who had been my closest
friend. "Why not?"

"Because it isn�t my place to," he replied. "Truth is
something you have to find for yourself- seek out your
memories, and I�ll cooperate then."

"You? Cooperate?" I laughed. Saionji was many things,
but cooperative was never one of them.

I smiled a bit. "I don�t think they�ll find Tenjou
Utena," I told Saionji. "But... we can at least try to
help."

Saionji gasped silently. "You... her..." he stepped
back, and I could see that I had taken him by
surprise. "What do you remember about her?"

"What do you remember?" I retorted.

Saionji�s eyes widened. Then he walked over to the
couch, and sank down onto it. "I remember the world
changing, and being the only one who stayed the same,"
he whispered. "I remember the revolution."

I leaned back into the couch, and silently started to
laugh. Of all of us, Saionji was the one to remember?
Ah, Utena, you would be amused. If Saionji
remembers... there�s hope. We will find you. Maybe
this time, you will be ready for an ordinary man. Not
a prince, but a man with flaws and who is human, yet
loves you just the same.

END PART FOUR

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Feedback is a very good thing. Thoughts and
constructive criticism are appreciated and keep me
motivated. Thanks to Raye Johnsen for her time on the
beta, especially since I know her opinion of Touga
rather matches mine.

Up Next: Cage of My Memories
Saionji
Coming Sooner

=====
"You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy, the Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the US of arrogance, and Germany doesn't want to go to war."
Mailing List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Quicksilver/
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