He who believes in freedom of the will has never loved and never hated.
~Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach~
Chapter 4: Her Brother's Keeper
Once inside I left Utena's side to return the phone to its cradle, while she sat on the bed watching me. Then she went to pull her tennis singlet over her head.
"Stop," I said, crossing to her. "Let me."
She stopped. Her eyes met mine, heavy-lidded with lust. Slowly I pulled the singlet up and over her head, enjoying the way it caught against her breasts on the way. Her breathing became heavier. Next I slid her sports bra off by the same route. Her breasts were heaving with her breaths, the down between them slick with sweat. I smiled, and bent my head to lick that sweat away. She gasped reflexively. Her hands fiddled meaningfully with my silk blouse but I batted them to the side. She'd just have to wait.
I knelt on the floor, and spread her knees open with insistent hands. Her panties were red and I smirked up at her, only surprised they weren't her superman ones. She had such strange tastes sometimes… She grinned back.
"Hey," she protested softly, no doubt knowing the direction of my thoughts. "Just take them off, will ya?"
"I will," I said, and reached under her skirt to tug them down. My fingers may have tangled briefly in the pink hair covering her mound, an agreeable 'accident'. Her head was arched back now, her breathing a tad more strained. I gazed up at her and ached inside with something that felt very much like the swords of old.
Why couldn't I take her?
It wasn't fair!
I'd waited all my life, my lives, to have something like this, someone like this – I hadn't even known I'd been waiting. And now I had it, had her, and I couldn't touch her like I wanted to. I couldn't push her past the point of reason, show her all the reasons that people fought and died for love. That she herself had fought, and worse-than-died for.
If I did the swords would come.
The irony of our predicament did not escape me. The cruelty stung like thorns and it came to me that this was exactly what Utena was to me, whether she knew it or not. A rose, the most beautiful rose, forever protected by the thorns that were the million swords of hatred. Protected from love, my tainted love. Protected from me.
I wanted her anyway.
"Utena," I whispered, sensing she was on the edge, one I daren't help her past. "Utena, take your skirt off." Her eyes snapped open and she sat up straight, staring at me in lust-fogged confusion.
"Why?" she asked, then came back to herself enough to realize. "Oh yeah. Yeah. G…good idea." Slowly her legs slid closed, hiding my goal from my hungry gaze. I rocked back on my heels giving her space. Slowly she pulled the skirt off and sat there naked, still a little out of it. I waited while she fought to calm herself.
Finally she rose and came to me, pulling me to my feet.
"You realize," she murmured, "there's absolutely no reason I can't undress you." That surprised a smirk out of me.
"Yes Utena-sama," I intoned dutifully.
She grinned and arched an eyebrow.
"Such sauce! Just for that I order you to take your blouse off."
I eyed her, intrigued by this new game, one we hadn't played before. It was a dangerous game considering my past and her orientation about it. But she had initiated it…and I was a game-player…
"Yes Utena-sama," I whispered, and took a step back from her. Slowly, seductively, I stripped the blouse from my body, button by pearl-seed button. I made sure she saw the deftness in my fingers, the way I stroked each button just a little too long. Her eyes half-closed and I knew I had her again.
I let it slide to the floor.
"Beautiful," she whispered, her eyes on the lace of my bra and the hint of dark purple aureole showing where one cup had pushed partway down.
"Would you…" she cleared her throat and started again with some difficulty. "Would you mind taking that off please?"
"You mean?" I teased reaching behind myself. She nodded, eyes wide. Slowly I unclasped the bra. My breasts bounced softly free. Utena made a soft noise in the back of her throat. Just as slowly I peeled the bra completely off.
She reached forward, stroking at a red mark where the wire had dug into my skin. I shuddered, twice as stirred by the soft sensation of her fingers against my gently throbbing skin.
Her hands slid leisurely down my torso, almost worshipfully. Her eyes were filled with wonder as she studied my night-dark skin, then suddenly dark with pain as they caught on the paler patches of my many and various scars.
I stilled and watched her looking. And looking. She swallowed, hard. The lamps in this room were a little too bright. I should have dimmed them, or better yet, turned them off. She'd never noticed the marks before; each time we'd been naked she was way too distracted.
I'd forgotten them myself. Why was it I always remembered what I'd forgotten through Utena's too-seeing eyes?
"Anthy…" she whispered, and I realized there were too many marks, more than she could possibly understand or cope with. I didn't even know why they were showing: I usually hid them beneath the mask called perfection.
"Wait," I said. Closing my eyes I concentrated, shifted just so. I opened them again and my skin was like polished ebony, not a mark to be seen. Utena stared at me, eyes very wide. When she spoke again her voice was ragged.
"No."
And she closed her own eyes, and I felt it in the air between us, Utena concentrating, using her formidable will mixed with power to… do something… shift something. My jaw dropped.
Utena's eyes opened, fiercely finding mine.
"This," she said, holding my eyes with hers, "is real." Gently she reached forward and stroked at the deep burn beneath my left breast, then further down along the knotted and raised scar twisting between my ribs. I stared at her silently. I was so surprised I think I forgot to breathe.
"These are really here," she whispered, "even if you magic them away. I'd rather see them." She lifted her eyes to mine, took my cold cheeks in her warm hands. "I'd rather see you."
"Oh," I said faintly, still too surprised to think.
She bent her head and kissed me, so softly I barely felt her lips caressing mine. I just stood there, feeling like I was in a dream, one that was much too marvelous to understand. I didn't understand. I was used to understanding.
She drew back and stroked my cheek again, then moved her hands to my turgid nipples.
"Anthy," she murmured, "say something. Are you…alright with this?" She paused uncertainly. "I mean…would you rather hide them? You can if you want. I didn't mean to say that…" She stopped, fumbled for words and started again. "I mean, I want you to do what you want. What you feel comfortable with."
"I know," I said, much too overwhelmed to say more. I didn't change my skin back though, and Utena bent forward to lightly kiss my neck. Then she wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my hair. I let her. Slowly my own arms came up to entangle round her waist. I felt her sigh with relief.
We stood there together, she fully naked and I only half, yet feeling more naked than I ever had in my life. More naked than the night she saw me rising from the wide white couch I shared with my brother. More naked than the day she opened the coffin and I finally opened my eyes.
I didn't know how to feel about it. I didn't know how to feel so much. Emotion was an alien thing, a threatening thing, something I was beginning to grapple with in ways I didn't understand.
Once I'd thought I understood it all. Had sneered at Utena, at people like Utena.
How wrong I had been.
"Shall we go shower," she whispered, "do you still want to?"
"Yes," I said, because I didn't want to be without her. I didn't want to be outside of her arms.
She stepped back and together we removed my skirt, stockings, and underwear. Then she took my hand (or I took hers) and we went to the bathroom. Under the spray I started to relax, comforted by its warmth, by Utena's equally warm presence. So this was what it felt like…
…family…
…to be loved…
…to be clean.
"I'll do your back first," she said, "if you do mine second."
I smiled at the tiles.
"I want to do more than that."
"Okay," she said a little too eagerly. "Whatever you want. Hey, want me to wash your hair too?"
"There's a lot of it," I warned, but her fingers were already combing through it almost reverently. I gathered this was one of her fantasies. I smirked to myself, beginning to regain my equilibrium. Obviously I should have let her wash it before this.
"It's so long," she said wonderingly, "there's just so much of it."
"Yes," I said serenely, rather proud of myself. The hair was a nice touch. Everyone liked the hair, men and women alike. Even Akio couldn't rival it. (Although he'd tried his best.)
"How do you keep the knots out?" she wondered. "How do you afford enough shampoo?"
I smirked again. Such questions.
"Oh," I said vaguely, "it gives me something to do."
I felt her disbelieving eyes on my back. She smoothed my now wet hair back behind my ears, moved it carefully over one shoulder and pressed a line of kisses down my neck.
"I thought you were washing my hair," I murmured, hands going to the walls to support myself against this new assault.
"I'll get to it," she murmured back. "Believe in me."
My spine arched. Such words.
"You taste so good," she whispered against my skin, lingering where my neck met my shoulders. "You taste like…"
"If you say eternity," I said drily, "I'll get out of the shower right now."
Utena froze, then relaxed and nipped playfully at my shoulder. She was getting used to my emerging humor. Her voice became seductive.
"No, that's what I say about making you come."
I gasped, and felt moisture on my legs that wasn't from the shower.
"You taste like…" she continued, "roses."
"You eat roses?" I teased her.
"No," she mumbled and I could tell she was grinning as she licked a line beside my spine. "You smell like them too."
"It makes sense," I said primly.
"Does it?" she wondered. "Does anything about you? About me? About what's happening to us, and what's already happened?"
I turned in her arms, propping my back against the wall. I studied her, wondering at her mood tonight, her frankness and unusual insights. She was bursting with being the prince, I could practically see unearthly light shining through her skin. That wasn't on the physical plane of course: In reality she was gazing at me, lust and love co-mingling in eyes that seemed equally fascinated by my eyes and my breasts.
"You have a lot of questions," I said carefully.
She didn't answer for a moment, stroking instead at a massive scar that made a ragged V just above where my abdomen met my thighs. My own eyes found the scar on her belly, the one I hated while being utterly fascinated by it. My handiwork.
"I only have one really," she said, as her eyes crept up to mine, filled with indefinable emotion, begging me for something but I wasn't sure what. She took a deep breath, suddenly as tense as I'd ever seen her.
"Who was on the phone?"
I gazed at her, seeing in her pleading eyes that she already knew the answer. Had known since the balcony, since she saw the phone. But she wanted me to say it. She needed me to say it.
So I said it.
"Akio-san," I whispered and hung my head.
"How dare he," she muttered, and her hands tensed briefly on my hips, then moved away to a safe location at her sides. "I told him to leave us alone."
I looked away, up into the spray raining down on us. My admission was a quiet one, tearing from my throat almost against my will.
"I called him."
Silence. I looked at Utena. Her head was bowed now, long wet hair hiding her face from me. Her fists were clenched at her sides.
"Why?" she asked tonelessly, and I shivered at the implicit pain in her posture. I thought about how to explain it to her. I didn't know how to explain it to her.
"He's my brother," I said slowly, because it was all I could really say.
"So what?!" she yelled, exploding into action out of nowhere. She glared at me, hurt narrowing her eyes, arms folding defensively over her chest.
I looked away.
"No!" she yelled. "Stop that! Tell me the truth, damn it, damn him. Don't look away from me!"
I looked back.
She glared at me, then her lip wavered and she crumbled, burying her face in her hands and starting to cry. I stared at her, not knowing what had taken her from anger to pitiful sobbing in a few weighty seconds.
"I hate it when you do that," she mumbled through her tears.
When I did what?
"Sorry," I said cautiously, "I'm sorry Utena." Tentatively I put my arms around her and felt a rush of relief as she came to me willingly, collapsing against my chest to bury her face in my shoulder. Her arms wrapped around me desperately and she continued crying, but silently now.
"You don't even know," she moaned into my neck. "You don't even know, do you."
It wasn't a question. And I didn't have an answer. I held her instead, waiting until she calmed, until her sobs leveled off.
Then I attempted an answer to the earlier question.
"Akio-san is…" My strangled words came to a halt and I struggled to breathe properly. It was so hard to talk about. Harder to make her understand. But clearly I had to. She needed me to.
"He is…was…the reason for…everything." My voice cracked, but I kept going. Utena was frozen against me, hanging on every word.
"Dios was… the world. And Akio was the… end of that world. B…but he was still the world. All that remained of anything. Of everything."
"What are you saying?" whispered Utena, pulling away from me, staring down at me like a little-girl lost.
"I turned my back on him," I said, astonished at how raw my voice was coming out. "You showed me how. And that I sh…should. But Utena…"
I took her hands in mine.
"He's still my brother."
She stared at me, disbelieving.
I stared at her, appealing. Finally her shoulders slumped, and she bent her head to press a kiss to our joined hands. I knew then she'd forgiven me, at least for now.
"I don't agree," she told me. "I don't really understand."
"I know," I said, and I did. How could she (an orphan) know what it was like to have a sibling who was so much a part of you that you began where he ended? Akio and I were closer than twins, as connected as the constellations. There was more history between us than truth in history. Our blood couldn't be denied, anymore than hatred could, anymore than love.
Yes, Utena was my world now. But Akio was the end of it, and Dios was the beginning. It was just how it was. How it had always been.
"Are you gonna call him again?" she asked, the hurt in her eyes begging me not to. The very question revealed she knew she couldn't stop me. But it still surprised me that she wasn't trying to. I was used to being controlled.
"I don't know," I said, which was the truth. She nodded and bit her lip.
"Here, let me wash your hair."
I turned and allowed her to start massaging shampoo into my scalp. We were quiet, intent on our divergent paths of thought.
"Utena," I whispered finally, "I wish it didn't hurt you."
"Yeah," she murmured, "it's alright, Anthy. Really, don't worry about it. Just let me know about it, okay? We gotta deal with this stuff together. Even when we disagree."
"Yes," I whispered, but I knew it would be better if she'd never known. There were some swords a prince shouldn't have to bear.
The next day I woke with an awful headache. I sat up on my elbows, looked at the peacefully sleeping Utena whose head was pillowed on my stomach, then looked at ChuChu who had taken her actual pillow (again).
Where are my hairpins? I wondered fuzzily, thinking for a second that they were still in. Surely I couldn't have such a headache if my hair was loose. I shifted out from under Utena doing my best not to wake her, and sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands.
What am I going to do?
I needed a plan. A good plan, a plan worthy of my brother, a plan that would put that upstart Professor in his place and put Tokiko off the map.
How dare they challenge me?!
I blinked and tried to reign myself in. So. This was what anger tasted like. Metallic on my tongue. Slightly reminiscent of the swords but directed outward instead of in. Did others feel like this all the time? How inconvenient. My thoughts were all cloudy: it didn't seem like a wise emotion.
I reached over and patted the nightstand searching for the box that held my hairpins. It was wooden, shaped like a leaf, and covered in a series of etchings depicting a satyr catching a nymph and taking her on the forest floor.
A gift from Akio on one of my birthdays.
I fumbled with the hidden catch and then ChuChu was hopping up onto the table, clever paws opening it for me.
"Thank you," I told him and he cheeped. He started to hand me the pins, one by one and I started to pin up my hair. It was soothing, natural, an old well-remembered ritual. I thought better when I did this, thought along the lines of ancient mantras, and prayers that never got answered. I couldn't count the times I'd done it, bound my hair so tightly that not a strand escaped.
(It had been my time to plan the day, to play out my moves before I made them. Or my time to recover from the ravages of the night before, putting them behind me, forgetting them on the misty plains of what was past and couldn't be undone. And so didn't matter.)
"You're putting up your hair?" Utena sounded confused. She moved over to sit next to me, yawning and stretching mightily. "I thought you liked it down?"
"I have a headache," I murmured, and took another pin.
"And that will help?" She still sounded uncertain as she placed a tentative hand on my thigh. "Won't it just make it worse?"
I put the pin down and stared straight ahead.
"I don't know. I thought… I don't know."
Utena's hand flexed a little on my thigh and she cleared her throat.
"Are you…are you alright, Anthy?" She slipped one strong arm around my shoulders and pulled me against her chest. "You seem…I dunno. You seem sad."
"I feel strange," I whispered, my head aching too fiercely for me to dissemble. Utena stroked at my hair but caught her hand halfway on the pinned up part. She stopped and ran her fingers lightly down my back instead.
"Strange how?" she asked finally, and I could tell she was worried.
"I think I'm getting a migraine," I told her. "Maybe I should stay in bed today."
In that instant I realized I'd solved my own problem. In bed I wouldn't have to confront either Tokiko or Mikage, not when I wasn't ready yet. Was I sick deliberately then? Could a body do that for its owner? I stared down at my knotted hands in something like fascination.
"A migraine?" Utena sounded at a loss. "Er, yeah, stay in bed for sure. Geez, I'm sorry, I don't know what to do for migraines. I never get sick you see."
That was true. She was the picture of health when uninjured. But I didn't really get sick either. Or at least not without good reason. I suppose I had a good reason now. But I wasn't making this happen…was I?
I wasn't really a witch. Was I.
"I'll ask Juri and Miki-kun," she was saying. "Maybe they'll know what to do. Should I call the doctor?"
"No," I told her, "I'll be fine. I just need rest."
"It's probably my fault," she mumbled, "cos we argued last night and all."
"That was an argument?" I said mildly, still finding it in myself to tease her.
She smiled tenderly at me.
"Do you want something to eat? Soup maybe?"
"No," I said, "I'm not hungry." I hugged her briefly then let her go and started removing the hairpins.
"Okay," she said, and got up to start dressing. "I'll keep the others out of this part of the house so you can sleep."
"Thank you," I said.
When the pins were out I lay back down and huddled under the covers. Utena had pulled the blinds down so the room was dark. I put an arm over my eyes and tried not to think about my aching head. I heard the soft sounds of her moving around getting ready for the day, then the equally soft click of the door as she left. I heard her footsteps going down the hall. I heard the faintest sounds of activity downstairs as breakfast started.
I sat up.
ChuChu chirruped enquiringly at me.
"Go be with Utena," I told him. "Keep her busy." For a moment he hesitated, studying me with strangely disapproving eyes. Then with a little huff he obeyed, jumping off the bed and scurrying under the door.
I sighed, and picked up the phone. I needed advice. I needed advice from someone who would understand, and who already expected the worst from me. I needed him.
"Hello Anthy," he said, voice warm with approval that I still craved. "How did you sleep?"
"Fine," I lied, putting a hand to my throbbing head. "And you?"
"Not as well as I used to," he said sadly. "It was a Saturday night you know."
"I know," I said.
"And what is Utena-kun up to on this fine Sunday?" He laughed shortly. "I suppose she doesn't go to church."
"No," I said. Utena would likely fall asleep in a church service, then fall off her chair.
"I thought about going," he said, "for old time's sake. Remember when we were Roman Catholic?"
I sighed. Of course I remembered. Akio had found penance an amusing and incredibly useful concept.
"Or when we were Hindu?" he laughed again. "I don't suppose you've performed the Vedic Agnihotra today?"
"Only a few hundred people still know those sacrifices," I reminded him.
"Really?" He sounded sad suddenly. "How time races on without us."
"We're out of our time," I whispered.
"Every time is ours," he argued, "and will be again. When you come back to me."
"Please," I sighed, turning on my side and bringing my knees up to hug them to my chest. "Do we have to have this conversation again?"
"Yes." His voice was petulant. "It's necessary. You may have forgotten your duty, Sita, but I haven't forgotten you or your many obligations."
"I have no duty," I said. "Don't call me that."
"Kali then?" he laughed, a disturbingly beautiful sound. "Or do you prefer to think of yourself as Parvati?"
"Don't do this," I whispered.
"A witch by any other name," he reminded me, voice turning harsh. "Remember the Li Ki, little sister: Faithfulness is requisite in all service of others and faithfulness is especially the virtue of a wife."
"I'm not your wife."
"No?" His voice turned amused. "You are my bride if you are anyone's. And your vows to me cannot be undone by some arrogant girl-child."
I was silent. There was no point in arguing with him when he was like this. There was never any point in arguing with him. Why was I even talking to him?
"Anthy," he whispered, changing tacks with startling grace. "It wasn't all bad, was it? Remember when you tricked Amun-Ra into giving you his secret name?" He sighed. "That was fiendishly clever, a triumph of magic. You were the snake who bit him," he laughed again, "and only you had the cure."
"You told me to," I said and he laughed.
"But it was your idea." He sighed again. "We enjoyed ourselves didn't we? Our endless games. The whole world was ours…"
"Yours," I repeated stubbornly. "It was yours."
"Tell me why you called me. I know you have a reason."
"It's nothing," I murmured, suddenly reluctant to trust him, even a little. He wasn't like Dios this morning, not at all. I had needed him to be.
"Nothing's ever just nothing with you," he said and I stiffened. Out of the mouths of those who knew me best.
"Tell me," he said compellingly and my head ached like a poker had been stuck into it. I whimpered.
"Are you…alright?" His voice took on the strangest quality, concern (how long had it been since he'd been concerned for me?) mixed with intrigue.
"It's nothing," I whispered, "just…Chida-san showed up here the other day."
"Tokiko?" He paused and I could almost see his long fingers tapping on his knee. "What does that whore want?"
"Did you send her?"
"Why would I do that?" he purred. I pinched at the bridge of my nose as my migraine grew. My stomach roiled.
"And Souji-sama is here," I said shortly. "Did you send him?"
"Really? The good Professor made an appearance?" Akio chortled. "I thought he'd be dead by now, faded away completely."
"He's strong," I said, "An unusual mortal."
"It means he has vision," said Akio. "Well well well, how interesting. I may have misjudged him. I wonder what could be fueling his…quest?"
"You already know," I hissed, pain pushing me past the point of politeness.
"Yes of course," he murmured, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Who else but you, my beloved sister? You've inspired many such quests before."
"I don't want to!" I cried. "I don't want him."
"It is your nature," said Akio, "to tempt our duelists, and lead them to their ruin. It's only natural, Anthy, you know it is. You are a witch, an evil witch. It's why you must also be the rose bride, why I was right to cage you."
I moaned. Akio made an echoing sound of pleasure, deep in his throat.
"How I've missed your pain."
"Stop it," I said weakly. "I called you for advice. I n…need your help."
"No you didn't," he corrected. "You called me because you belong to me and it's what I wanted you to do."
"No!" I cried.
"Yes," he insisted. "Stop your foolish fantasies. Come back to me."
"Utena has defeated you," I muttered, but it was getting hard to argue with him. His words sounded…like what normal was. They sounded right.
And most of the time Utena sounded wrong. Shockingly wrong.
"It's a temporary setback," he growled, and his anger fairly seethed through the phone. "She's an imposter; she stole my power! I don't know how she did it…but now that I've rejoined with Dios there must be a way to…" He trailed off meditatively.
"A way to what?" I interrupted, suddenly terrified for Utena.
Akio laughed.
"Never you mind, little bird. Unlike your darling prince-girl, I know not to trust you with my secrets."
I moaned and fought for air. Through the growing muzziness that made it increasingly hard to think I bit out:
"Just tell me. Did you send them or not?"
"No," he purred. I had no idea whether or not to believe him but I knew I would get nothing more that was useful. Only pain.
Calling him had been a mistake. One I couldn't seem to stop myself from making.
I hung up. Then I hung over the side of the bed and was sick on the floor. I felt like crying. I felt like going to sleep and never waking up. I felt like gliding out onto the balcony and falling off the edge.
I settled for crying.
TBC in Chapter 5: Unchosen Angels