Shinohara sipped at her tea and went through the files again. While she waited for today's appointment, she was reviewing the information she had on the daughter of the Chairman. Ohtori Kanae had been a healthy young woman up until the day she died. No one had been able to explain it. Both her father and her fiancé, the Vice Chairman, had been appropriately grief-stricken, but…

"Excuse me, are you Shinohara-san?"

Shinohara looked up. A tall blond-haired man stood in front of her table, a briefcase in his hand. He frowned politely.

"You must be Tsuwabuki-san," she said warmly. "Please." She gestured at the chair in front of her.

"Thank you," he said, inclining his head slightly. He set his briefcase down in the chair. "I'll be right back."

Oh, right, he has to buy something. Shinohara sighed to herself and began packing all her loose notes back into their folder.

Tsuwabuki soon returned holding a petite espresso cup, and Shinohara flipped to a fresh page in her notebook. The two of them stared at each other, hesitating to be the first to speak.

Shinohara broke the short silence. "Thank you for coming out to meet me, Tsuwabuki-san." She lifted her teacup again.

"Oh, it's no problem," the young man said, waving a hand. "I must admit I'm curious about this project of yours. I've always thought there were some interesting stories to tell about the place."

Surprised, Shinohara set the teacup down a little more forcefully than she intended. "Yes, exactly," she agreed. "Let's see. You're, what, four years younger than me?"

Tsuwabuki drank his espresso in one swallow. "I graduated high school in 2006, so that would mean you were…"

"2002, yes." Shinohara tapped her pen against her cheek. "Which means you were there when the Academy closed, right?"

"That's right." Tsuwabuki looked into the distance for a moment. "That was certainly an adjustment, going from Ohtori to my local public high school for those last two years. I wasn't the only one, at least, but there was definitely some culture shock."

"I'll bet," said Shinohara, smiling. "By the way, I forgot to ask, but you don't mind if I take notes, do you?"

"No, by all means," replied Tsuwabuki, waving his hand in the same way as before.

"Thank you." Shinohara dropped the hand with the pen back down to her notebook. "What can you tell me about the closure of the Academy?"

Tsuwabuki frowned. "Well, it wasn't exactly something they could keep quiet. I mean, sure, they tried to downplay it, but at the same time arrangements had to be made for anyone not graduating that year." He winced. "And I remember us helping with the arrangements for the orphans, those that had no remaining family or personal guardians. It must have been much worse for them."

Shinohara winced as well in sympathy. "That's right," she recalled. "You were on the Student Council as well."

"With Kaoru-san, yes." Tsuwabuki nodded. "He had been the youngest ever up till then, but after Kiryuu-san's brother had his relapse and then Saionji-san graduated…" He shrugged. "I was glad to do it, and I learned a lot from Kaoru-san that way. Even if it did force me to take on some adult responsibilities rather early."

Shinohara gave him a searching look. "Weren't you and Kiryuu-san…"

For the first time Tsuwabuki looked uncertain, and his face reddened. "That was a child's crush," he replied, not meeting her eyes. "One winter vacation I went home and I came back and it was gone."

"My apologies," said Shinohara, though she wasn't sure if she was apologizing for bringing it up or for the end of their "relationship". "Let's go back to the closing of the Academy, then."

Tsuwabuki let out a sad smile. "I'm afraid there's not much more to tell. The Acting Chairman had vanished at the end of the previous year, as I'm sure you already know. The staff debated for a while, but even we on the Student Council knew that there was no one left holding the place together. And so those of us who did not graduate were returned to our places in the ordinary world."

Shinohara finished her line of notes. "That's still very helpful, Tsuwabuki-san." She looked up, then hesitated. "I apologize, but I'd like to ask one more question. From what other people have told me, however, it might be quite sensitive. Please don't feel like you have to answer."

Tsuwabuki looked apprehensive for a moment, but then smiled and set his hands in his lap. "What is it, Shinohara-san?"

Shinohara set down her pen. "You were a member of the Student Council. Is it possible for you to share anything about the 'duels'?" She caught herself thinking the word divulge but kept up a polite, serious smile.

A downcast expression crossed the man's face. "Ah," he said, sounding a bit reluctant. "The Dueling Game." Shinohara sat up straighter; she could hear the formality in the name. "I remember it as a sort of combat ritual members of the student council had to undergo, at regular intervals. The prize was a rose from the gardens, to match the school seal." He shrugged, but to Shinohara it looked like there was a weight on his shoulders. "I was only asked to participate once or twice. But for Kaoru-san and the others…it must have meant a lot more to them." He looked her in the eyes again. "But it's not my place to talk about that."

"Of course not," Shinohara agreed hastily. Finally, a breakthrough! "Asked by whom?"

Tsuwabuki's brow creased. "I'm sorry, I don't remember. There was some sort of complicated ranking system with formal challenge letters and all that." He shook his head. "In any case, the 'duels' happened less and less often, until finally they stopped completely in my last year. The last year at Ohtori, that is," he amended.

"Thank you, Tsuwabuki-san," Shinohara said again. "This has been incredibly helpful."

"My pleasure," the younger man replied.

"Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?" Shinohara asked. "Any facts or stories I should include, or any…unusual occurrences?"

Tsuwabuki hesitated, then seemed to realize he'd given himself away. "I do remember one odd episode," he said slowly. "It was back in fourth grade. For some reason or another I got incredibly angry at both Kiryuu-san and this other friend—Hozumi Mari-san, she's a year older than me. I don't even remember what about, exactly. But right in the middle of that I must have fallen ill, or something, because all I remember is waking up in the hospital and then apologizing to Mari-san." He frowned. "I guess that doesn't sound so weird, but perhaps someone took notice of me then, and that's how I ended up on the Student Council a few years later. That's how it felt like things worked at Ohtori, sometimes."

Shinohara nodded. It should have been a pointless anecdote, but something about Tsuwabuki's story felt significant, maybe even familiar…

"Well," she said, folding her notebook closed. "Thank you again for coming out to meet with me." She picked up her teacup and drained the last bit of tea, then stood to see him off.

"You're welcome," replied Tsuwabuki, taking his briefcase in his hand. "You'll let me know if the project goes anywhere, right?"

"Of course," answered Shinohara, feeling flattered.


A/N: Establishing years of graduation was a pain. The show, which was released in April 1997, was supposed to take place in the present day, but it doesn't say that the time of year matches the show. Utena and Wakaba are in eighth grade (the second year of Japanese middle school). And Utena is 14, and she was born in December, 1983. …Hm.

The trick to resolving this apparent contradiction (for this American, anyway) is to remember that in Japan ages can be reported based on the year only—that is, even though Utena's birthday is in December, she can call herself 14 starting in January, 1983. I don't know how much this custom is followed today (or in the 90s), but it does make things line up nicely. The second trick is to remember that birthdays have nothing to do with graduation years anyway.

So, the timeline I'm going with is that the show takes place over the first half of the school year, roughly lining up with air dates. (The Japanese school year starts in April.) If it turns out I'm off by a year, I apologize!

This is the last piece I have in my buffer, so the next chapter may take longer than a week to appear.