Seinen Kakumei Utena
Utena and Penguindrum characters belong to their various owners.
WARNING: Parts of this work contain depictions of transphobia, controversial shoujo fantasy trans situation that in no way reflects real life trans people, and misogynic magic attack leading to forced masculinization.
Part Thirteen: Victims of Fate III (BETA-ed by TheOnlyFlorence)
Notes: Much appreciation to Lurv for her flaw-checking efforts throughout this multi-part. TheOnlyFlorence: I cannot thank you enough for your meticulous BETA-ing.
P.S. The song "Heavenly Pink" is modified from Bee Gees' "Melody Fair" – a 60's classic that was almost "prophetic" in that it foretold the Dios scene in SKU EP39 to eerie perfection (or could it be that there was a Bee Gees fan in Be-Papas?).
Time: 10 years post-revolution
Place: Ohtori Academy (Japan), Underground Garage
"So the invited have all gathered at the meeting spot? Keep them monitored; await further instructions before proceeding to stage 2." There was a brief pause. "Of course I've had you all covered. Your group has been a long-time investment of the Ohtori Clan, after all."
Putting down the now-vintage car phone earpiece back into its crank (how quickly do man-made items go out of style, he thought), the entity leaned back against his car's seat with the sinuousness of a self-sunning reptile. Green eyes hooded, he cast his impassive gaze upon a slot to the opposing side of the garage, where numerous mechanics labored over a red convertible – one identical in appearance to his – grotesquely skewered by numerous charred, gnarled swords.
The car phone rang. Picking it up, he heard, to his un-surprise, the jocular, boyish voice of his current top-performing pawn:
/"Feeling good about yourself, Prince? Again you've had some woman suffer on your behalf."/
The sword-skewered red convertible's lopsided plate – one that read "OHTORI" - fell off with a brittle clang, revealing the name "KANAE" on its flip side; the Prince exhaled into the phone with measured slowness.
"Can you still not comprehend what a 'prince' is, even after all this time playing one?" he asked back.
/"Oh, give me time, sempai – I'm still pretty green when compared to you."/
"You've certainly turned out to be just as layered as your nick-namesake would suggest," mused the Prince, his voice textured with dark mirth. "Had Nemuro-kun bothered to go deep enough into your core during his turn in the game, history could've been rewritten."
This bratty piece, of course, talked back like he always did. /"History still could be rewritten yet – it's for this that you've been using me up through the past ten years."/
A sinister moaning sound, girlish as it was desperate, came faintly audible through the tension-thick atmosphere; the Prince paid it no heed.
"You've gained much through this past decade."
/"The bad along with the good, you mean."/
"I've helped you become what you've always wanted to be: something to be seen."
The faint moaning shrilled into an airy, agonizing scream echoing against the garage's shadowy space. Then came a snapping sound, before a murky red light lit up the slot to the left of where the Prince currently occupied, revealing yet another red convertible identical in appearance to his; its plate, unlike that of the Prince's vehicle, read "INOUE".
/"My lord and savior, when you say things like this, I can't help but wish for you to feel my wounds, my sufferings, with your own body – I think only then can you truly comprehend just what you've done to me."/
A flapping sound started to drone in the dimness, its beats frantic as the wings of a moth under fire. As if drawn by the sound, the red haze "spilled over" to illuminate the Prince's slot, revealing his car's plate to be rapidly flipping as if upon a rotating axis.
"Is that why you're taking the time to call, Onion-kun?" asked the Prince, purposely reminding the ungrateful tool of his humble beginnings.
The car's plate paused, revealing the word "OHTORI".
"Onion-kun's" voice audibly tensed up with defensiveness. /"I'm calling to tell you I'm taking time off starting now and through the weekend. Get your goons at the Agency to rearrange my schedule around me."/
The glow had by now covered the slot to the right of the Prince's convertible, revealing a dark-colored racecar of insectile design – one with a plate reading "KAORU."
"Reason for time off?"
/"Re-repairs,"/ spat the now openly agitated "Onion-kun", before briskly terminating the call.
Lips curled in a somewhat enigmatic smirk, the Prince again leaned his weight against the cushioned car seat.
On the light reddened floor, sharp shades had gathered in a lively shadow play – one voiced by a trio of girly voices:
I wonder?
I wonder?
Do you know what I wonder?
"I'm da über mucho macho Top Dawg!"
"And I'm the top dawg's down low sub biatch - Bottom Dawg ~"
"And we're chilling chilling cool, in our thugged-out doggy doggy do, n' doggy doggy style!"
(A heartbroken young lass glided by the two, her delicate stance brittle with grief.)
"Daamn! Dat lil' biatch sure looks classy, Bottom Dawg!"
"Me wanna be classy too, Top Dawg ~"
"I know! Why dun we go double team dat classy lil' biatch? I bet we'd get some of dat classy chill too, Bottom Dawg."
"Damn right, Top Dawg ~"
(The two jumped the lass, right as the shadows abruptly scattered in a fluttery, moth-like swarm amidst sharp cries that could either be laughter or screaming.)
Do you know?
Do you know?
Do you wonder what we know?
"You," uncaring of the Shadows and their demented sounds, the Prince purred with his lips brushing intimately against the velvety, flesh-toned seat covering, "what do you think a prince is . . . Mother?"
At his question, the car radio spontaneously snapped on to sound a smoky, womanly alto:
/"Somehow, you only ever call me 'Mother' when my daughter is nearby, Akio-san."/
Baring his even teeth in a broad grin, the Prince looked like he was actually about to answer that, when the car phone rang again.
"Yes? So, she's arrived . . . then it's time. Proceed to Stage Two as planned. Be sure to keep the witch and her accomplices engaged until I give signal to begin Stage Three." Putting down the receiver, he turned the key on his sultrily constructed red convertible. "Time to go, Hoshimi: the game begins."
Engine roaring, the driven "car" shot arrow-like out of her slot, carrying the Prince past the innumerable identical-seeming red convertibles parked inside the garage's many slots, and into the darkness of the Ends of the World.
"Holy . . . this is almost like that Magic Mirror from Snow White," commented Wakaba, as she and the rest of the group (Duelists plus Children of Fate) gawked in awe at the vast multitudes of holographic projections raised against the starry backdrop, all of which showing what appeared to be live videos of the various parts of the crowded Sunshine City Aquarium.
"This may disappoint, but not much witch power is involved in my doing this," replied Tokiko, busily typing on her keyboard as the projections shift from one area to the other. "I've simply hacked into the video surveillance systems of the Aquarium and its surrounding areas, that's all."
"Wow, Chida-san . . . for someone from your era, you're really tech savvy . . ." immediately realizing the landmine he had just stepped on, Tsuwabuki quickly backtracked. "Oh! I'm not trying to say you're old, Chida-san, cause you're totally beautiful, but . . . um . . ."
"It's okay," assured the ageless witch, busy with checking through the surveillance videos, "I am an old woman from a bygone era. Still, one picks up a few tricks after spending ten years together with a computer genius."
"Chida-san," Juri cut in, suspicious gaze trained upon the woman, "did you know beforehand about Himemiya meeting with the girls today?"
Preoccupied, Tokiko shook her head without looking up. "Himemiya-san keeps her own counsel." Apparently knowing of the truth in her words, Juri did not pursue the matter.
Kozue appeared perturbed by the "crowded" scenes shown. "It's such a freaky way to look at the world, with everyone looking like empty symbols . . ." Beside her, Miki widened his eyes as he spotted something at a corner of a projection screen.
"That family coming out of the souvenir shop with toys for the kids still look normal, though . . ." The words incited a harsh snort out of Kanba, to the slender man's mild mortification.
"Miki-san, there are two kinds of people in the world: those who're loved and those who're not," supplied Shouma quickly and respectfully (he was likely worried that his brother's reaction had come off being rude). "Only those who're unloved risk getting broiled by the world into becoming . . ." his eyes widened at glimpsing something on screen, "Oginome-san . . . !"
Tokiko was already zooming in on a plain-looking girl made noticeable by the crowd of symbols surrounding her; upon closer inspection, she had a younger, more petite friend beside her: one almost completely hidden by the surrounding figures.
"Himari." Kanba's eyes softened with an almost uncharacteristic tenderness at seeing the smaller girl, before his child's face abruptly drew up in wolfish alert. "That guy . . ."
"That man behind the girls in black hat and coat also looks normal," pointed out Shiori, before her eyes started to narrow, ". . . or does he?"
Tokiko zoomed in on that man (some sort of science-defying magic must still be at work atop the "hacking", as there was no distortion in video quality despite this being security cam footage), and all the Duelists gasped in shock at what now became apparent.
"He's got like . . . no eyes!" Wakaba recoiled from the projection in fear. "That's why he's wearing his black hat so low: to hide his nonexistent upper profile!"
"Is that . . . also someone who becomes an invisible nothing? Like the symbols?" asked Kozue; Shouma trembled in fright even as Kanba grinded his teeth ferally.
"There's a kind of 'nothing' who will even go as far as to destroy the world and its people, just so they can feel like 'something'," hissed the brown-haired boy in barely contained rage, "and when they show, they show up in droves."
"The Kiga Group," stated Tokiko, pulling up a projection where innumerable men in black could be seen evenly spread out from amongst the vast crowds. "Backed by the Ohtori Clan, their remnant members roam the world even after the government crackdown-"
Suddenly, all the projections started frizzling, before being superimposed by an ominous-looking "yin-yang" penguin face motif. With a stab of a key, Tokiko closed down all the projections, returning the "Room of Stars" back into its former appearance.
"A spiritual barrier over the area, followed by a retaliatory breach-attempt," explained the witch/hacker to the riled-up group. "Further monitoring of the Aquarium from our end has now become impossible."
The Children of Fate tensed at her words. "Then . . . Himari and Oginome-san . . ."
"Himemiya-san and Nemuro-kun should've arrived there already," said Tokiko, while tapping restless fingertips against the edge of her keyboard. "While they're more than a match for Kiga, I'm concerned that Kiga itself might've been just mere decoy sent to distract them from mightier adversaries." She cast her glinting eyes upon the slightly parted door leading back into the mansion. "Time to involve the New Prince."
The Sunshine City Aquarium was filled with nature's wonders, displayed behind glass for the eyes of beholders.
The vast majority of its predominantly female visitors, however, currently trained their lusty gazes upon something else – something that wasn't even present.
/"And now, ladies and gentleman, it's the moment you've all been waiting for: the unveiling of our Aquarium's A-list endorser – Seen's - newest HD 3D MV: Heavenly Pink!"/
The biseinen idol's pristine image appeared upon the tall LED screen to thunderous applause from the eager crowd, whose cheering never ceased even after he had started singing:
/"Who was that girl with the crying face,
Looking at funeral signs?
She thought her life was an ended race.
Into her coffin there she lied . . ."/
The pop ballad, while well-sung, largely fell upon deaf ears, as the clamoring women all were eagerly chatting about something else entirely:
" Those lush romantic curls . . . how can any man be so . . . princely?!"
"Look at that clothes-hanger build . . . he could be on the runway in Milan and Paris!"
"I so wanna be one of those two dancers who got to be with him ~ "
". . . wait, aren't those girls Double H?"
"You're right . . . they are Double H! Since when do they dance backup for other artists?"
"Well, Seen does rank much higher than them on like all the popularity polls."
"He's so leggy, the girls look like penguins wobbling beside him."
"They're really kinda plain for idols; no wonder their agency need to generate press with that mystery Triple H new member thing."
"That new H will have to be someone un-leggy enough to match the existing two, though . . ."
Unnoticed by the tittering, judging bunch, two tensely somber girls were passing by from behind them, with the older of the two – one spotting a girly bob cut – now shooting them a heated glare.
"Geez, if Double H could be called short penguins, then I suppose the place is swarming with ovulating turtles by their own definition," grumbled the feisty girl, before turning back to her younger companion with a reassuring smile. "Himari-chan, don't you mind what they say; Hibari-san and Hikari-san are-"
"I don't think they had to endure this kind of judgment before becoming idols," murmured Ikebe Himari, her expression one of disconcerted pensiveness. "Isn't it strange? The three of us were supposed to be friends in elementary school, but I can't remember anything about them from that time: what they looked like, any of the things we should've done together . . . nothing. If it wasn't for Hibari-san and Hikari-san coming to me, I wouldn't have remembered that we had even known each other." Reaching the penguin pool, the wisp of a girl climbed a step of wooden lining up the glass fence as if out of habit. "And these penguins-" the girl's foot slipped, and the older girl hurried up to steady her from falling.
"Himari-chan!"
" . . . I-I'm okay; thanks, Ringo-chan."
Oginome Ringo frowned chidingly at Himari. "You mustn't be so careless right before your talent audition, Himari-chan." Himari hung her head in sheens of long, fine hair.
"I'm sorry," the girl apologized in her airy, brittle voice. "Just now, I suddenly remembered that I've actually been here – I mean since way before we came here together after our hospital stay. I remember how someone had always helped me up this wooden step so I could look over the fence, but I can never remember who that someone was. My adoptive parents never once took me here, and . . ." A tear escaped her eye then, and Ringo quietly helped her clean up with a Kleenex. "Oh, Ringo-chan . . . I don't know what I'd do without you. There are all these holes in my memory, it's like there is really no concrete past to uphold this pleasant . . . present." Sniffing, she glanced up at the older girl in fright and helplessness. "It's like we're both trapped inside some elaborate illusion, where nothing is real, Ringo-chan!"
"Himari-chan . . . " uncertainty welled up from within Ringo's amber eyes, before the girl made a visible effort to don a brave, cheery front. "Don't worry. We're going to get all the answers today! Now that we've come here like the letter instructed, we're finally gonna meet up with that omniscient person who knows about the amnesia, and . . ." Her words trailed off at seeing the peculiar widening of Himari's eyes. " . . . Himari-chan?"
"You . . . you're . . ." uttered Himari in what looked like rapidly dawning recognition, as she reached down to clasp her small hands around something seemingly short and rotund . . . something that looked like thin air to Ringo, " . . . Number . . . 3?" Worried, Ringo clasped a hand upon Himari's slim shoulder.
"H-Himari-chan-" and she got tongue-tied, as immediately upon contact, she suddenly found herself seeing a fake-looking blue penguin – one with the number "3" written on its back – now cuddling up against the other girl's embrace in an extremely lifelike manner. "T-That . . . that's . . .?!"
" . . . Esmeralda?"
Turning at the quivering voice, Ringo saw to their side a stylish young woman gawking down at an also artificial-seeming black penguin now snuggling up against her long, stocking-clad lower leg. Apparently geared with sharp senses, the young woman noticed Ringo's staring almost immediately; her eyes widened with disbelief at seeing her and Himari.
"You and that girl," the young woman's body tensed in defensiveness, "you're both . . . real?!"
"Natsume Masako-san . . ." whimpered Himari, who apparently recognized the young woman . . . with fear; the blue and black penguins by their respective sides now were glaring cartoon-ish-ly at each other.
Unnoticed by the flabbergasted girls, shady men had since appeared from all around the crowded place in significant numbers, their stark black hats and trench coats contrasting the lighter attires of the regular visitors to ominous effects . . .
/"Heavenly Pink won't you comb your hair?
You can be beautiful too.
Heavenly Pink, remember you're only a princess.
Heavenly Pink, remember you're only a child.
Ah . . ."/
"We're leaving."
Utena's sentence impacted those inside the toilet partition like an unexpected slap; and they reacted to it as such.
"Leave . . .?" asked Saionji, the desperate, explosive anger twisting his expression mirroring those often seen in his high school days.
"Y-You can't!" Sharp-tongued Nanami actually stuttered, so outraged was she now. "Not after having dragged everyone of us into your fight against him . . . are you fucking insane?!"
Ignoring the two like they were never there to begin with, Utena stepped into the already crowded partition, and proceeded to pull Touga up and out of the water.
"Hey! Keep your hands off my-" Nanami's sentence died out, as she realized how Touga was responding to Utena's draw, as he now stood steadily up on his own feet. Producing a large towel, Utena then proceeded to dry the wet, naked man matter-of-factly as the others looked on in shock.
"Tenjou-kun,"
"Touga,"
"I can't become a prince after all."
"Me neither."
"But, at least I finally get to meet you, as myself, " said Touga, displaying his smooth, willowy body with neither modesty nor shame. "Tenjou-kun," he looked his past crush in the eye, "are you yourself now?"
Only then did Utena – no longer innocent, no longer even female – finally looked away, as he then shoved a pile of clothes up and in Touga's stoic face.
"Tenjou-kun," persisted Touga, whose piercing, merciless gaze remained trained upon Utena; head down, Utena clenched his fists till his knuckled turned white.
"You . . . why is it that every time we meet, you're always trying to hurt me?"
Time: 6 years pre-revolution
Place: Outskirts of Kiryuu Estate, Water Canal
". . . we meet again," whispered Touga to himself from where he was again peeking at her, this time behind the obscuring shrubs beside the small canal park.
It had been two years since he first saw her; two years during which the boy had repeatedly chanced upon the pink-haired girl – the one spoiled rotten by parents – at various spots around the area, watching on unnoticed as she grew more and more beautiful living her charmed life . . . two years since he himself had become a witch.
Ever since he became a witch, the abuses had indeed stopped; since the abuses had stopped, so too did those contrived family interactions the Kiryuus once had with the siblings. Touga himself of course relished in the absence of the pervs from their immediate vicinity, but Nanami – believing them to be the parents – grew up feeling unloved; she had grown, as per the years, increasingly dependant upon him.
"Mama and Papa don't need me, so I don't need them either! I need only you, Onii-sama; I have only you . . ."
Even without the abuses, even "protected", he and Nanami still were unloved children – existing opposed to those chosen by fate to live engulfed in love.
" . . . and after a bit more practice, you'd be able to do even this." Looking resplendent in her brand name leotard, the pink-haired lass then proceeded to execute a showy skipping rope trick in front of a small gathering of admiring girls. "Nothing sculpts the lines like exercise!"
Such a radiantly foolish girl, looking like she had never even known of the darker things roaming the world – like pedophiles who pose as parents, like parents who hurt their children . . . like him.
He had grown fixated upon her out of envy; and fascination . . . and something deeper; something he could not yet define at his young age.
He knew that they were from different worlds, that their only interaction would be nothing more than someone like him watching someone like her from afar – while obscured underneath dark shades, invisible and seething.
Unless . . .
"Wait! But wouldn't all this jumping about make the legs go chunky?"
"What if this gives us cankles?"
"Oh no: jumping exercises actually help the legs grow longer while reducing waist-size, and can make us look so much better in whatever we wear . . . "
"Onii-sa-"
Startled by Nanami's abrupt sneak up from behind him, Touga quickly pressed a hand over his little sister's mouth, keeping her quiet.
" . . . now that I've scored perfect on the math test, Mama and Papa has finally agreed to take me with them to Tokyo on their work trip," claimed the pink-haired girl, beaming with excitement. "I'd get to check out the designer boutiques there myself! So, if there's anything you girls want me to get for ya . . ." The offer was met with jubilant "oooh-s" and "aaah-s", as the group of privileged little girls moved off and away. Relaxed, Touga released Nanami, who sagged like an unsupported doll.
" . . . why're you looking at those girls?" she asked with that hurt look in her dark eyes . . . it was the look she had two years ago, on that day.
Nanami thought he was oblivious, but he knew.
He knew what she did, two years ago.
Like most other kids, Touga had naturally liked animals to begin with. However, in those days just after his birthday – around the very beginning stages of his "protection period" – the boy had been inseparable from the kitten largely because he knew Kiryuu Papa feared it. To better control the kitten, he had spent a lot of time bonding with it – and that quickly made his clingy sister jealous.
On that wet, cloudy day, while looking for his pet, Touga found Nanami sneaking furtively out of the side gates with a card box in hand. Normally, he would not pay much attention to that, if not for how that card box looked very similar to the one the girl had used as a gift box for the kitten.
The soft meow faintly audible from within the box confirmed his suspicion.
Tailing his little sister from behind, he followed her out to the canal, and watched on stunned as she then slipped the boxed kitten into the wild torrents of the flooded waterway. There was this macabre crow's screech, before the girl fled into the cold rain, crying in guilt and in despair.
Up till that moment, Touga had thought he had managed to protect his sister's innocence from the Kiryuus; how wrong he was.
The monsters had twisted Nanami's soul just by pretending to be her parents while doing no parenting.
Presently – at this exact same spot she once drowned that kitten – his volatile, vulnerable sister was brawling against his embrace as if out of breath.
"I can't bear it if you're to fall for some girl! Onii-sama, look only at me! Care only for me! Love me!"
Still mentally scrambling for the right words to pacify the hysterical child, the boy did what he had always done in similar situations: he kissed her gently on the forehead.
And it worked like magic; just like it did every single time before.
"Nanami, I'm not 'falling' for any of them."
" . . . huh?"
"Girls like those are just like troublesome insects," Touga flicked his hair – grown long again after the cut from two years ago – in a disdainful gesture. "I looked only so I could watch out for them. You're my only sister; you're the only one who's important to me."
"Onii-sama . . ." Nanami hugged him with fierce, teary gratitude. "Onii-sama!"
Patting his unhealthily clingy sister on the back of her blond haired head, the boy cast a furtive gaze at where that dazzling girl and her friends had disappeared off into the distance.
Being from different worlds, someone like him could only ever watch someone like her from afar – while obscured underneath dark shades, invisible and seething.
Unless . . . unless he could get his own filthy hands on her, and drag her down to his level, so they might at last be on that same common ground.
So they might finally get to meet.
Time: 10 years post-revolution
Place: Chida Mansion
"If you're really yourself, then you'd goddamn remember how I no longer have a self, and why!"
Utena's statement was punctuated by his throwing the clothes brutishly in Touga's stoic face: an act that somehow caused the "W" branding on the latter's left cheek to start letting blood. Shocked out of her stupor, Nanami tried advancing on the Victor, but was held back but Saionji's hand on her shoulder.
"What, don't you remember?" Livid with rage now, Utena pointed a finger at Touga like he would a raised sword. "You've met my true self while I lied dying; and instead of trying to save me, you-"
"I gave that fatal cut, from which sprouted you and your trail of coffins," said the redheaded man, who seemed unaware (or uncaring) of the blood marring his snow-pale face. "Yes, it's all my fault: I was the witch who brought low what could have been a princely princess. Do you hate me, even now? Do you regret meeting me? And, if you do . . ." blue eyes glinting, he stepped up and towards the trembling young man, ". . . can this regret give you motivation enough to get back on your feet, or will you still hide yourself inside some coffin just like before?"
"You-"
And their surroundings changed with a disorienting abruptness, such that the four suddenly found themselves in a pristine, elegantly renovated bathing area, where the squat toilet Touga came out of now had become a Jacuzzi tub, filled and running.
Red rose petals – glossy from being lacquered – could be seen scattered about the corners of the bath in artful disarray.
"W-Wha . . . ?!" Nanami looked around in disbelief. "That was . . . ?"
"A projection," muttered Saionji, his hardened gaze trained upon Touga, who stood wet and naked but without the bleeding, "and it's clear just who the 'projector' is here."
Then came a short, brisk series of raps at the door, before it got pushed open as Tokiko strode right in.
"Pardon me for interrupting." The elegant woman kept her eyes on Utena alone as she, with a wave of her hand, somehow materialized a bathrobe around Touga's nakedness. "Tenjou-san, Himemiya-san is presently in battle against Akio's subordinates, including Kiga; she could be needing your-"
"No."
" . . . no?"
"I won't see Himemiya right now," stated the New Prince, downcast and sullen, "not her, not Kiga."
Tokiko frowned. "Tenjou-san . . ."
"No. What she did-"
"Ho, this is rich!" Nanami cut Utena off with a derisive snort. "You, who've been trying to make us all accept Himemiya - even knowing about the many people she'd destroyed and killed all along - you're now breaking it off with the all-powerful-witch right when we all need her the most? After having lumped us in on your side against her brother? All this, just because she might – might - be involved with your parents' death?! What makes your parents bigger than the rest of their many victims – bigger than us?" The petite blonde stomped up and at the tense Victor with spite in her steps. "You hypocritical, self-centered-"
"Enough, Nanami."
Touga's quiet but firm voice impacted his sister like an abrupt slap, stunning her into wide-eyed stillness. He then turned to face Tokiko.
"Tenjou is in no condition to be of help at the moment. There are things that needs settling – that I should've settled earlier on, since meeting her again – and it will have to be done now." The man's gaze upon the witch was steady and hard. "Please understand, Chida-san."
By now, the gathered ones were all looking in from the opened door, their tensed faces betraying their current anxiousness.
"Chida-san," Kanba spoke up aloud for all to hear, "Shouma and I are going with or without Pink Hair."
"If the boys are going, then I am too," stated Kozue; Miki looked uncertain from where he stood beside his twin.
"But . . . without Tenjou-sempai . . ."
"Himemiya brought all of us here, because we – for what we're worth to the normal world – somehow have the power to go against the Chairman." She clasped her hands upon the brother's small shoulders. "These two had sacrificed their all to save a girl they call their sister." Her sharp gaze cut at her twin, who awkwardly looked away. "I want to help these guys protect their sacrifice in whatever way I can. And," her lips curled in a feral smirk, "if my helping them involves thwarting that monster's despicable plans in some way, then more power to me." The Takakuras appeared stunned by her passion.
"Kozue Nee-san . . . !"
"Kozue has a point," Juri took a step up to beside the Kaorus. "We're here because we're not completely powerless against the Chairman. Isn't that right, Chida-san?"
"Yes . . . and no," said Tokiko, after taking a moment. "With the exception of the potentially powerful Tenjou-san, all the other Duelists can only face up against Ohtori Akio by forming driver/vehicle partnerships." She cast her worried gaze across the group. "Most of you are not ready for that just yet."
"Driver . . . vehicle partnerships?" asked a visibly disconcerted Shiori, now clasping her hand upon Juri's forearms. "Does this mean . . . we're meant to . . . I . . .?" Appearing nervous herself, Juri hugged the smaller woman to her side under the other Duelists' quizzical gazes.
"There are two kinds of people in this world," explained Tokiko, "those who drive others onwards, and those who get driven onwards by others." The Duelists looked amongst themselves uncertainly. "As far as I know, Himemiya-san had planned it so that the Duelists she gathered this time around are pairs with potential to make for a powerful 'race team', for lack of a better term."
"So it's gonna be a car race this time around?" exclaimed Wakaba in genuine bafflement. "Against whom? Towards what?"
Tokiko's delicate face hardened in determination. "Against worldly obstacles since prepared by the Ends of the World; towards the truth beyond the world's shell."
"I don't get it."
"You will; you all will in good time. For now, I ask all Duelists to stay here with Tenjou-san. I'll go with the Takakura brothers to protect their loved ones and help Himemiya-san against Kiga and whatever else the Devil has up his sleeve."
"Why only the kids?" asked Kozue. Stepping up, Tokiko gently pulled the child-shaped Takakuras away from the girl and towards herself.
"Because they are immune from violence in their present insubstantial state – even though they cannot enact violence either."
Her statement appeared to worry Miki. "But . . . with only you having any offensive power-"
"Nemuro-kun and Himemiya-san should be there already; we can manage," assured the elegant, delicate witch. "Kanba-kun, Shouma-kun, we're going." Even before Tokiko's sentence was completely finished, the boys were already losing shape, color, and form, before exploding outward in a vortex of sharp, glassy pieces that completely obscured her slender figure; the glittery, lucent storm dissipated almost as quickly as it formed, leaving behind no trace of the vanished trio.
" . . . they can manage," mumbled Miki to himself, obviously awed by the impressive unreality he just witnessed; the other Duelists also appeared similarly stunned. The group soon gathered their wits about them and refocused upon the now trembling Utena, standing in front of Touga with his head hung low.
"Well, I ain't staying behind just to have to look at that," snorted Kozue at their Victor in a purposefully loud voice. "I'll be downstairs." With that, she turned on sharply her heel and left.
"Kaoru-san," Shiori flitted after the feisty girl like a delicate bird. "Let's all stick together; we can monitor news alert about Sunshine City Aquarium, and maybe come up with some ways to keep this operation going . . ." Apparently worried how the eager suggestion was going to go down with the thorny listener, both Juri and Miki quickly followed from behind.
"Nanami-sama," Tsuwabuki got up to the older young woman – one who had remained wordless since being silenced by her brother – with the carefulness of one walking on eggshells. "Come with us?"
Downcast, like a hollowed-out husk, the once catty blonde passively allowed the young man – already taller than her by a head – to gently guide her out the door; they briefly brushed past Wakaba during their exit.
"Utena-sa . . . Utena," Wakaba called to her once best friend from where she stood worriedly at the door. "Umm, now that you . . . and Himemiya . . . what're you going to do now?"
"Wakaba . . ." croaked Utena though his constricted throat; his head still was hung low: as if he was not yet strong enough to look up at the world yet. "I'm sorry."
"For . . . what?"
"For dragging everyone into a fight against that monster, when I'm not even ready to face him myself. It must've been so scary for all of you, having to face the Swords with no idea what to expect. Because I'm so weak, Chida-san now has to fight Kiga and Akio by herself-"
"Utena." Wakaba cut him off in a surprising firm voice. "Yeah, like, there are a lot of things going on that I don't understand . . ." the young woman paused to take a deep breath, "but, this I know for sure: you were the one who saved each and every one of us, back when we needed saving." Her voice and expression both softened with warm empathy. "So don't be sorry - it's now our turn to save you, that's all." The young woman's brown eyes misted at seeing the tear tracks now trailing down Utena's pale cheek. "I'll be with the others." With that, she too backed out of the bath area, leaving the broken new prince alone with his emotions . . .
. . . alone with those two, who were as much fellow duelists to him as they were his kindred spirits in despair.
Touga and Saionji . . . Saionji and Touga; their watchful gazes upon him now felt every bit as invasive as they did on that night at the church, back when they all still were kids, back when they all still were young victims at the ends of their world.
The lights were beginning to dim, and the setting was beginning to change. There now were impressions of stained-glass windows letting light in from the outside - colored lights that revealed three coffins all bearing stylized rose motifs. Stepping up – bumping past Saionji's shoulder as he did so – Touga moved to one of the coffins, and started pushing its lid aside . . .
"Don't," whimpered Utena, his voice eeriely girlish and child-like against the dull thunders now droning in the distance, "please don't . . . "
Time: 6 years pre-revolution
Place: Tokyo, Shinjuku Subway Station
Theirs was a family of three smartly dressed in high-end casual wear, and they were hurrying towards the bustling subway station entrance with hurried haste.
"Pumpkin, we don't have to go quite that early! The store won't be open till-"
"We have to, Papa!" Blue eyes determined, the little girl was literally dragging her father by the hand, as they prowled their way through the thick morning crowd. "Sorya Rich is debuting its limited edition designer choker today: there must be a long lineup outside the store—oof!" It was then that she accidentally bumped against a man, the force almost sending the sizable box he was carrying tumbling down upon her.
"Utena!" Exclaimed her father in alarm, as he turned quickly towards the impacted man. "I'm so sorry: my daughter is too unruly. Are you okay?"
The man - nondescript in appearance but for the penguin motif on his back and on his box – paid Utena and her father no heed as he briskly went on his way.
"See how you've embarrassed yourself with this behavior! Pumpkin, you really should . . ." Mr. Tenjou trailed off at realizing that his words were falling on deaf ears, with his daughter remaining utterly focused on her forward momentum towards what she wanted.
"Rush hour on a day off; what joy . . ." grumbled Mrs. Tenjou, whose ruffle-filled sundress proved impractical when amongst the crowding, squishing mass.
"What can we do?" bemoaned the khakis-clad husband, looking out of place from amidst the suited "salary men" from all around. "We got ourselves a little type-B: self-centered and fixation-prone." Complains aside, fatherly pride still was evident in his expression. "At least our girl's princess-ly craving is motivating her to do well at school . . ."
"At least there's that . . ." conceded the dainty wife, smiling in spite of herself.
"Hurry! Hurry! We're gonna miss the train!" The pink-haired princess – willfully ignoring the heartwarming exchange, so possessed was she by the single-mindedness of childhood – impatiently urged her parents along towards the subway gates, towards the life-changing event that was to leave this child forever altered.
End Part Thirteen