It's not true that life is one damn thing after another; it is one damn thing over and over.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay~

Chapter 3: Black Rose Blooms

"We have a new client," Utena told me excitedly, as I scripted out an ancient poem in painstaking calligraphy. To the uninitiated it looked like a beautiful wall-hanging, done all on papyrus. Ostensibly I was making it as a thank you gift for Juri. This would please Utena and irritate Juri, a win-win in itself. But its true and hidden purpose was as a protection spell for our home.

I didn't want to see the dead walking here.

"That's pretty," Utena said as she hung over my shoulder. "You're so much better at this kinda stuff than anyone I know. What's it say?"

"The language has been lost."

"Whoa," she murmured wonderingly. "But you can read it, right?"

"Yes," I said, and then quickly: "Who's the new client?"

"Another former student!" She forgot her questions and moved to flop into the chair across from me. "His name's Mikage Souji. He seems familiar, but I'm not sure why cos we never had much to do with each other. He's older and…"

She continued happily while I stared down at my calligraphy, doing my best not to lift the quill mid-stroke. This had taken hours and one error would damage its perfection. It must not be damaged. I was sick of damaging things.

Finally with great effort I was able to move my hand again, finish the stroke, and put my quill away safely. My hands were shaking so I folded them tightly in my lap. Utena hadn't noticed; she was too caught up in her vision of saving Ohtori.

I'd never been so grateful for her childish idealism.

She stopped for breath.

"Didn't you do a seminar with him once?" I asked mildly, watching her closely.

Did she remember the black rose duels? I didn't think she would…the duelists themselves hadn't, and Akio had wiped the memories to do with Mikage from the entire school after he had…graduated. Utena hadn't even remembered the name of his Memorial Hall back then.

Come to think of it, neither had Miki, and hadn't he said it sounded familiar just the other day? So I couldn't be too careful.

"A seminar?" Utena blinked. "Me? You mean the Mikage Seminar that he used to run? I dunno. That doesn't sound like something I would do..."

"No it doesn't." I hid my relief. "What does he want?"

"To find another student," she said, "Somebody I never met actually. A boy named Mamiya."

"Ah," I said faintly. "How interesting."

How horrifying.

If Utena was to find out about Mamiya…about what he had done to so many of the duelists, to vulnerable Wakaba her very best friend… If she was to realize what I really was, what I was capable of…

She can't find out.

It was amazing she'd forgiven me as much as she had. Inhuman really. I don't know what she was thinking when she did forgive me, it was so clearly the wrong choice, an impossible choice, which was why no victor had ever opened my coffin. Not in ten thousand victors, and a hundred thousand duels.

But she'd opened it.

Yet…everything she'd consciously forgiven me for…it all had extenuating circumstances. Or at least it did when you looked at it from her strange logic. This didn't. There was no forgiveness for one such as Mamiya (one such as I). Not even Utena's brand of forgiveness could bury what I'd done in his guise, and other guises like his.

So I couldn't be him, not to Utena's knowledge. It was as simple as that. I'd never thought it all the way through before, but it was obvious now that necessity forced me to. As obvious as the ink from the spell staining my hands.

Juri and Miki had come in.

"What do you think?" Juri asked Utena, ignoring me as per usual. "Are we going to take this Mikage on as a client? He should be back soon to hear our answer."

"Hi Anthy-san," said Miki, blushing a little as he caught sight of me. "Oh wow, your calligraphy is so pretty."

"Thank you," I told him, but my attention was focused on getting out of there as quickly as possible. I rose and attempted a smile. "Excuse me," I said politely, "there's something I just remembered I have to do."

Utena looked like she might call after me, but Juri was asking her another question.

I left without further ado.


I stood in the greenhouse, the place where I thought best.

I stood there staring at the black roses.

Unnatural colors wouldn't grow in this world, thus I'd never been able to grow a black rose. They were technically impossible: the ones marketed as black were actually a very dark violet.

Yet here they were. Blooming as though they had always been here (when they never had before), as though I had planted them (I hadn't), sending me their message.

A dire warning.

"Hello." The voice was smooth and light, a male tenor. It was almost as familiar to me as Utena's, and almost as unwelcome as my brother's. I turned stiffly, knowing already who I would see. I shouldn't have left the others. That had been my first mistake.

Mikage Souji stood in the doorway, or more accurately, Professor Nemuro did. His hair was the same pale pink, perhaps a little messier, his eyes as probing as ever, even through his glasses. He was a scientist to the core and it was the scientist who looked at me now, aloofly assessing.

We stared at each other.

Suddenly I realized that he didn't know who I was, of course he didn't know (how could he?), and I didn't have to deal with Souji after all. I was being irrational, thinking this was a shadow from the past. But it was just a lonely and coldly logical man.

I sighed with relief.

His eyebrows went up and I realized I had better hide my reactions better.

"Hello," I murmured back. "Are you lost?"

"Yes and no." His gaze remained sharp. "I've found what I'm looking for."

My heart stood still.

"Arisugawa-san mentioned that Akio-san's sister lived here." He looked at me over his glasses and slipped one hand into the pocket of his well-cut suit trousers.

"I see that it is so."

I felt like sighing again but kept my face blank instead. Saying nothing I watched him narrowly, wondering what he wanted with me. He'd never met Himemiya Anthy, although he'd certainly been aware she existed as the rightful rose bride. He'd wanted to kill her after all…at Mamiya's urging…

He watched me right back.

"So," he said finally, taking a step inside the birdcage (no the greenhouse, why was I suddenly thinking of it as the birdcage?). "What are you doing so far from Ohtori Academy?"

I stared at him over the black rosebush and considered how best to answer.

"I'm with Tenjou Utena," I said quietly, settling on the answer most likely to hold him at bay. To show him that the thing he was depending on (Utena's goodwill) was under my influence. My words were like moving a knight (the knight) out onto the board as the opening move in chess, and I could see from the appreciative flicker of his eyes he understood that.

Understood my faintest of warnings. Well of course he did, Professor Nemuro was an intelligent man. A genius. That was why we'd selected him.

"How interesting," was his mild reply. "You were with her back then too."

I didn't have to ask to when he was referring.

"You were the rose bride," he continued, looking me up and down, "and she was your victor, correct?" Another pace forward.

I stared at him. Clearly he remembered a lot, perhaps even everything. That made sense, given that Akio would have thought it funny to make this man suffer on with his beautiful memories. Just as amusing to strip them from everyone else, so that neither Professor nor upperclassman had ever existed.

"Yes," I said. "She was the duelist with the right qualifications."

He paused mid-step. I could see my words had cut him, exactly as I intended them to. For a moment he glared at me, then his face smoothed and calmed.

"I see," he said. "And what did you know of the dueling games?" His eyes flickered to the black roses and softened for a moment, then inexplicably hardened again.

"What I was told," I said, which was technically true. Except that I'd been told everything.

"And what…did Akio-san…" Mikage paced forward again. "Tell you exactly, about me?"

I couldn't help it. I took a step back, keeping the rose bush between us. There was something faintly menacing about Mikage, there always had been. It was what had made him so perfect in his role.

"Nothing," I lied backing away further, backing into the glass wall. There was nowhere else to go if he passed the rosebush. When he passed the rosebush.

"Oh, I doubt that," he said drily, stepping around it. "As the rose bride, the prize if you will, of the game, you must have played a key role. It's only…" he paused and smiled down at me, tight-lipped. "Logical."

I stared up at him, longing suddenly for the protective barrier of my old glasses, my hair up in pins, the rose bride's role. At least then I'd know exactly what to do. Twisting my hands in front of me I wished I was somewhere else, anywhere else. But as I knew all too well, wishing did nothing. Wishes were for fools.

Mikage's pale eyes took everything in: my skittishness, the way I was backed into a corner, my long unbound hair and clearly civilian sundress.

"We're alone here," he told me and I recognized a threat in his phrasing. "No more games, Rose Bride. I know you have valuable information that I must have. I know you will give it to me…eventually." He put his hands on my shoulders and gripped them hard. "It is only a matter of time."

I tried not to cringe away.

"What do you want to know?" My voice stayed quiet.

Something in me cried out that I was being ridiculous, that this was my home, that Utena had shown me how to be strong and free. But my reality was Mikage, much stronger than me, a ghost from the past demanding answers and demanding them now. No Utena in sight. No prince coming to the rescue.

Just like it used to be, had always been. Really was.

Mikage's hands were tightening even more as he took a deep breath, struggling with the question he wanted to ask. When he finally did his voice came out raw, bursting with powerful emotion. It was so unlike his slightly monotone manner of before that I gaped at him.

"Where's. Mamiya."

My jaw dropped.

"Where's Mamiya?!" He shook me then, hard. "Damn you, woman, tell me what that bastard did to him!"

"M…Mamiya?" I managed to get out, around the shaking. My imitation ignorance only enraged him.

"Don't pretend you don't know!" He was shouting, and shaking me so hard that my teeth rattled in my head. "Tell me! Tell me where he is!"

I said nothing, there was nothing I could say. Besides he would believe me more if he had to force the next lie out of me. Pain was part of this game. Pain was usually my winning move.

"TELL ME!" He screamed and distantly I wondered if he would hit me. He never had before…never hit Mamiya that is… He wasn't really the kind of man who dealt in physical force.

His burning eyes glared into mine, like the funeral pyres of a hundred dead duelists. I remembered this: his passion, so alien in a computer-like man as he'd once termed himself. His passion had stirred to life when he met Tokiko, but roared into an inferno when he met Mamiya.

So familiar to me, he was so very familiar.

I blinked up at him and suddenly he looked confused. He stopped shaking me and peered deeply into my eyes instead. I closed them. Now he was shoving me away back against the wall, and stumbling back himself into the rosebush. I opened my eyes and watched as he pricked himself on their thorns and cried out sharply.

One finger was shoved into his mouth and he sucked at the hurt. He whirled back to me and gazed wildly for a moment. I said nothing, did nothing. Merely watched and waited. If there was an axe it would fall. If there was smoke there would be fire. It was useless acting, better to wait and see.

Mikage calmed himself, sticking his bloodied finger into his pocket, attempting composure.

"Forgive me," he said finally, stiltedly. "I don't know what came over me." He laughed shortly. "Coming here like this…the things I said to you. I can't imagine how I could be so uncouth."

I nodded silently but stayed where I was. This was his move and I was trying to discern it.

"I can only plead in my defense," he said, "that I…felt strongly for the boy. More strongly than I've felt for anything or anyone in my unnaturally long life." He studied me intently. "Surely you can understand that."

"Can I?" I said, trying hard not to eye the door and my way back to Utena. I didn't want to be here. I did not want to be having this conversation.

"You know…" he said suddenly, turning to pluck a black rose and hold it aloft. "…Mamiya-kun is dead."

"Is he?" I said faintly.

"Yes," he said sadly. "He died many years ago. And yet…" He put the rose in his top pocket. "…He didn't."

"Oh," I said.

"There were two Mamiyas," he revealed while a shiver slid down my spine. "I didn't think about that at the time of course, I was far too distraught. Your brother told me he'd exploited an illusion I cherished in my memory, and that was true…after a fashion."

"Really," I said, beginning to edge along the wall. "How interesting."

"Yes," he said, "it is. The real Mamiya died decades ago." He looked at his feet. "I spent the last few years grieving for him: a special boy, a unique and priceless boy. My one last link to his loving sister, the lovely Tokiko."

"My condolences," I said, not meaning it in the least. The door was closer.

"But not the boy I knew for even longer than I knew him," said Mikage. I looked up and he nodded his head to himself, as though I'd confirmed something he suspected. "The young man I fell in love with." He stepped back between me and the door.

"No," he continued, voice and eyes intent, trapping me in place. "That Mamiya is very much alive. He was far too real to be just an illusion. Akio-san may be powerful but I realize now that he couldn't be that powerful. Not if he was still trying to harness the energy of eternity."

I hid my shock behind a mask of bland civility.

"You're very sure of your…theory," I said, folding my hands behind my back and steeling myself to fight fire with fire. A defensive game would not win for me now.

Mikage shrugged.

"I've had plenty of time to refine it and…"

"Excuse me," I interrupted. "Why are you telling me all this?"

His eyes narrowed.

"My apologies for boring you, Himemiya-san. After all, this is nothing you don't already know."

I fought to keep my expression blank and succeeded, but only just. He knows my name… But that meant nothing in and of itself. Anyone might know my name, and he had known of me. Of course he knew my name. It meant nothing. Nothing at all.

"I came here to find this second Mamiya," Mikage continued when I said nothing for long tense moments. "You see, he is real to me and beloved besides, even more real than the first and therefore technically real Mamiya."

He straightened his glasses, peering ever closer at me.

"After all, what is reality but a construct we build for ourselves, made of cherished illusions that shape the way we see everything? Everyone."

"Utena will be looking for me," I said, no longer caring for politeness.

"Others are looking for you," he said. "You know…Himemiya-san, I knew this was the place to come to find the truth. I remembered Tenjou Utena, I remembered that she was the only one strong enough to defeat me. That means she can see through illusions you know, that she saw what mattered and used it to win."

"I have to go," I said, moving forcefully toward the door.

His unexpectedly strong hands caught me, held me in place. He gripped me by my wrists and held me and I froze, not quite daring to struggle. Yet.

"I knew Tenjou-san could help me and I knew the knowledge of the rose bride would be an asset."

His eyes burned as they stared down into mine, how they burned.

"I knew all this," he whispered, "but I didn't know that I would find you here."

I tried to pull away then, using all my scant strength to make a break for it. Of course it did nothing against him: if I'd been thinking straight I never would of made the attempt. Mikage pulled me roughly against his chest, wrapping his arms around my waist to pin me to him, still holding my wrists in an iron grip.

"When I looked into your eyes," he whispered, "I knew you. Through the illusion, I saw you. Oh Mamiya-kun. Did you think you could fool me?"

I froze against his chest, absolutely flabbergasted.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Utena's voice was outraged, and blessedly close to us. Over Mikage's shoulder I saw her framed in the doorway, looking like she was about to punch someone.

I felt faint with relief.

Mikage whirled, letting go of me in the same second. He raised his hands placatingly as I stumbled away from him and over to Utena. Her hands were on me in an instant, checking me anxiously for injuries. She growled when she saw the bruises on my wrists.

"Forgive me," said Mikage from where he watched us by the black rosebush, a considering expression on his handsome face. "I didn't realize I was being so…strong in my affections."

"Y…you're affections?!" Utena could barely spit the words out she was so mad.

Mikage glanced at me meaningfully and in one horrific instant I understood that this was checkmate, and I'd lost the match. I hadn't even seen it coming… He really was a genius.

"Yes," I said weakly, grabbing Utena's arm before she could fly over and hit him, beating my black secret out of him. "We actually know each other." My voice trembled on the lie. "We're friends. Good friends."

"What?!" she cried, clearly disbelieving. She pushed me behind her back and made an abortive move toward Mikage, abortive because I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back.

"Anthy!" she cried, trying to tug free without hurting me. "Let me deal with this…"

"Stop it!" I yelled, and she stiffened, shocked to hear me raise my voice. "Listen to me," I pleaded. "Mikage-san really is my friend." In my desperation I thought of a better lie, one that might actually stay her hand. "He helped me once," I temporized, searching for the right words and just the right tone. Across the greenhouse Mikage watched us carefully. He was enjoying this I was sure.

"When Akio-san h…hurt me once," I murmured, "Mikage-san…helped me."

"He…helped you," repeated Utena, and I couldn't tell if she believed me or not. Once again I was grateful she couldn't see my face.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Oh," she muttered, and her shoulders slumped, and I realized with shocking relief that she had taken the bait, believed the lie.

"I'm er…" She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced over at Mikage in embarrassment. "…Sorry about that, Mikage-san. I guess I er, jumped to conclusions. I'm kinda hot-headed like that."

"Understandable," he said smoothly, "I can't imagine what Anthy-kun and I looked like, especially from where you were standing."

"Yeah," Utena muttered, looking at the ground. "Sorry." She glanced at me and I could see she was surprised at his familiar form of address. I could also tell she didn't suspect me of lying, not in the slightest.

Oh Utena…when will you learn…

I took her arm and huddled close to her, smiling falsely at my supposed friend. He smiled back triumphantly and I knew he had plans of his own. My heart sank. This was even more of a problem than Tokiko. Wait…Tokiko. Mikage. What if…they were to meet each other? After all Tokiko was looking for Professor Nemuro.

I brightened at the idea. Then my problems might be taken care of…

It took me a moment to realize Mikage was gone and Utena was holding me close.

"Are you alright?" she asked me. "From where I was standing it sure looked like he was hurting you. I know he's your friend but…" She grunted softly. "Damn guys, don't always know their own strength."

"He was a bit rough," I agreed cautiously, after all, she'd already seen the bruises. "He was excited."

"You didn't recognize him?" she asked. "From my description?"

"No," I murmured, "I'd forgotten his name. There's been so many names."

That seemed to satisfy her, she pressed a kiss to my head and stroked my back. Normally it would make me feel better but right now it was almost as much a trap as Mikage Souji back from the dead. I needed to be alone, to take the time to think.

But I didn't need Utena to know that. So I accepted her consolation and consoled myself that there would be an opportunity soon.


I chose to hang my finished calligraphy directly across from the front door, thinking it best served its purpose there. I was straightening it when a cawing sound got my attention. I turned around and looked down. There. On the doorstep. A massive raven, its glittering black eyes fixed directly on me.

I was glad the scroll was already in place.

The raven cawed, then dropped something from one talon, a tiny roll of paper onto the welcome mat. Then it flapped away, not waiting to see what I would do. I looked at the mat. I looked around - nobody in sight. I picked up the note and unrolled it.

A phone number.

I went to our bedroom to make this call; I already knew who it would be. I even remembered the raven, albeit vaguely. Was its name Hugin? Or Munin? Oh well, they both looked the same. I had an affinity for animals but those two had never really been on my side. They were better off avoided.

Picking up the cordless phone I went out onto the balcony. It seemed an appropriate place to call from. Twilight was gathering, the violet sky was filled with wispy scarlet streamers backlit by the setting sun. The air was peaceful, the garden sweet-smelling, and nobody was in sight.

I dialed the number.

"Hello Anthy," he said on the other end, his voice warm and rich with welcome. "I knew you'd call."

"You gave me your number," I pointed out reasonably, as he'd surely known I would.

"Yes," he laughed and the sound caught at my heart it was so much like the boyish laugh of Dios.

A silence in which we both listened hungrily to the other's breathing.

"Do you miss me?" he asked plaintively. "I miss you."

I paused, trying to find my depth. He sounded so much like Dios now. Still Akio to be sure, but his voice was that of the beloved big brother of memory, the tall white prince whose shins I'd clutched with baby arms.

The small crying boy, lying tired unto death in the barn.

"Yes," I said finally, wishing I wasn't admitting to it. But it was the truth.

"Good," he said, and he sounded so relieved. "That's good, Anthy. I knew you did. I knew, but I was scared…"

"It's alright," I said gently. "It will be alright."

"Will it?" His voice was tearful now, and I could imagine how he would look, all brave and defiant, and knuckling back the tears with one white gloved fist. Determined to spring back onto his charger even though I was pleading with him to rest more, to not save this one (only one. Was it so wrong to let one go?), save the next one instead.

But of course he wouldn't look like that anymore. He looked like Akio now. He…was Akio. If only Utena hadn't done this, performed a veritable miracle and given Dios back to Akio. And yet…what else could she have done? And still be Utena? I put my head in my hand, supported by my elbow on the balcony rail. It was just too hard to understand. To know how to feel.

I was so used to feeling nothing.

"Are you happy?" he asked me suddenly, and his voice was more like Akio's now, thick with filthy insinuations. I stiffened.

"Yes," I said.

"Of course you are," he purred. "You have her after all."

I said nothing. There was nothing to be said.

"You were never happy when you were with me," he said bitterly, and I found it in myself to be surprised all over again. I stared out over the horizon watching the very last of the sun sink into its grave. Just like I had. That's how it had felt when we started our game, how I had felt, back when I still felt something about any of it. No, not our game, his game. The dueling game, according to the rules of the rose seal.

Although back then it hadn't been with swords, but the jawbones of animals.

And it hadn't been roses, it had been some other plant, something exotic long since extinct. Something blood-red and wiry, scratching at the skin.

"Roses are acceptable," Akio said when he first switched to a rose crest. "I like their thorns." I had nodded meekly at his side.

"What do you think of them?" he asked me, as we stared out at another sun, over another desert, from the vista of a cave filled with the bones of the latest round of duelists.

"They're fine," I said, and my tone said I didn't care one way or the other. He smiled at me, well pleased, and subtly offended all at once.

"Rose Bride," he said. "That's what we'll call you now."

"Yes," I said, looking at my feet. "Onii-sama."

But we hadn't used those terms exactly, and we didn't speak in Japanese. The equivalents meant slightly different roles and relationships, none of which I bothered to remember years later when the language no longer existed.

The Rose Bride (or whatever she was then) was a slave wearing the mask of a princess. Dirt under the powder on her cheeks. Blood under the conservative dress, always high society (when there finally was society). And Akio was my master wearing the mask of my kin. God of his glittering domain, breaking his devotees like toys he was tired of. Breaking me just because he could.

"What are you thinking?" Akio/Dios husked into the phone. The sun had disappeared and it was night. I heard stirring in the house below and knew the others were back from wherever they had been.

"About us," I said softly.

"Oh yes," he said, and I wondered if he was looking at the stars wherever he was. It seemed like something he would do. They were just coming out now, winking into existence.

"I think of us too," he added slowly. He sighed. "About when we were the world."

"You were the world," I whispered. "I was just…"

"What?" he wanted to know. "What were you?"

I stared into the darkness between the stars, wondering that myself. What had I been? What was I now?

There was a sound in the hall.

"I need to go," I said, clutching the phone a little too tightly.

"Will you call again?" he wanted to know, and I caught a tinge of desperation in his otherwise smooth voice.

I didn't answer; I wasn't sure.

"Little sister," he pleaded. "Call me soon."

I stared into the night. I felt like I was falling, like I would fall if I agreed to this one soft demand.

"Anthy!" called Utena, bursting into our bedroom. "Hey, are you in here, oh, there you are." She joined me on the balcony.

I hung up.

Utena gathered me into her arms, hugging me exuberantly. I went willingly, wanting to be distracted, wanting to lose the past in the present. Long moments were spent pressed together, as I breathed in her scent (something floral spiced with sweat) and enjoyed the lithe planes of her body, all within my grasp.

Finally she released me and favored me with a smile, leaning easily against the rail at my side.

"I've had such a good day," she said, "We played tennis doubles, Kyouichi and Miki-kun against Juri and I." She grinned again. "My God, Saionji Kyouichi's a monster on the court. He almost brained Juri."

"How did you play?" I asked, resting my free hand on her back. Then I moved it to her backside. Her grin gained heat and turned on me.

"Great," she purred. "Miki-kun was scared of me."

"Probably with good reason," I told her, stroking lightly while she watched me with eyes that burned.

"You like my butt," she said, then blushed. "I mean…"

"It's your own fault," I said, "for wearing those tight little red shorts."

She giggled. "You liked those things? When I look back I reckon I looked weird."

"Your legs were…" I sighed at the memory, and stood on tiptoes to gently bite her neck.

"What?" she asked me, as red as her shorts had been.

"A sight to be seen," I husked, laying the phone on the rail so I could use my other hand to tease at her tennis skirt's waistband. She rested her hands lightly on my shoulders and smiled at me, all open happiness, her desire obvious and as untainted as a pure white rose.

I'd never known anyone quite like her.

"Did you have a good day?" she asked me, gently tilting my chin up so our eyes met. I didn't realize I'd lowered my head…

"Yes," I said automatically and her eyes darkened a little. Dismay filled me, dismay I fought to hide. Damn damn damn. She was getting far too good at reading me, reading between the lines. And I was getting far too lax around her, unable to playact like I used to.

She watched me now, alerted by something in my tone, or in my eyes, or something missing from them, I don't know what. I don't know how she read me, and I didn't like that she could. She glanced at the phone and her brow furrowed. I moved my hands from her body and twisted them behind my back.

"Someone called?" she asked, her voice a little too steady.

"Yes," I said because that much was obvious. Utena waited. Tension filled the air, tension that I hated and didn't want between us. Why could nothing ever be easy? Why was life one pain after another, even in the midst of happiness? Why did roses have thorns?

"I need a shower," she said after an uncomfortable pause in which I couldn't decide what to say. "Come join me."

I looked at her again (I'd been avoiding her eyes) and stared as she winked. She smiled at me, tenderly, although I saw worry buried just beneath. I smiled back sadly. She took my hand and we walked back inside.

TBC in Chapter 4: Her Brother's Keeper