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.
Notes: Well . . . this is the longest chapter yet (around 10 K word count!). All warnings apply in this chapter due to Utena's gender situation getting a deep (and dark) exploration here. Oh . . . and the battle's ending - and its aftermath - will still have to be placed in the next update (the Final Chapter) because of length issues. Will also thank everyone who has been reviewing/cheering on this project then. QQQQQ, the idea about Fate Transfer mechanics that we spoke of via PM will be in the next update. Please see the lengthy Endnotes for more.
The Day We Shine Together II
Underneath the towering projector, circled in by the blurry masses, the following confrontation was taking place on the Big Egg's stage:
"To what do I owe the honor of being held at sword point by these special people who used to be on Ohtori's Student Council?" asked Seen a.k.a. Kazami Tatsuya, glancing from Miki to Saionji, before training his bitter gaze upon the one he was addressing all along.
"You haven't changed at all Wakaba," he said. "Still trying to use supposedly cool, special guys as weapons to hurt me." Both Miki and Saionji tensed at the word "supposedly".
"Tatsuya." Wakaba faced this beautiful, alien stranger who used to be a boy she knew with a harrowing bafflement eating at her heart. "I don't know what you're talking about. But you've been helping Himemiya's brother to harm our World, and we will stop you-"
"Your white knights can't threaten me today," stated Tatsuya, dismissing her words. "Having peaked early, they're now merely 'has-beens' - people who are nothing to me."
And a hot, blazing light exploded off the idol's suddenly radiant figure, repelling the male Duelists off of him while forcing Wakaba to recoil. For a moment, Wakaba thought she caught a glimpse of something decidedly deadly emerging from within that light, before screams and curses assailed her hearing as all hell broke lose.
High above the stage, within the inverted castle, innumerable walls of swords were raised to mar its once pristine interior. Behind one of such walls hung a pink-haired, scantily clad maiden upon robes of thorn-barbed vines. In front of that maiden –-currently comatose –- stood a pink-haired child in a modest dress. Watching the maiden with wistful amber eyes, the child voiced the following as though in prayer:
"Dear myself.
"After having sacrificed everyone and everything you could to get where you are, you have now, at last, sacrificed even your own self.
"You've done all the dirty work needed on both our behalf, all to erase the Ends of the World shrouding this World in Darkness.
"You certainly are similar to the Prince, both before and after his fall.
"Given a kinder twist of fate, the two of you would have been the perfect pair to reign over that perfect, fairytale world.
"It is sad how bad blood is all that remained of the love you two once shared."
The child then produced half a pink-covered book, which she raised in front of the maiden.
"Now that your have succumbed under the corrosion of this bad, venomous blood, it will only be a matter of time before he does too.
"You have done well coming so far; you can rest easy now, Princess of the Crystal."
As if heeding her words, the Princess glowed up in unison the halved book held in the child's hand. By the time the lights faded, the child had, in her hand, a complete pink book labeled "Diary"; the Princess's fair complexion now had been reduced to a deathly pallor.
"Thank you and farewell, my past . . . my bitter halve."
Complete Fate Diary in hand, ten-year-old Oginome Momoka gave her past incarnation one deep, crisp bow, before hurrying away upon girlish magenta shoes.
"There, you have it.
"I have since revealed everything."
Basked under the azure glow currently engulfing the Fate Train's rose-motif-filled interior, the ghost of Tsuchiya Ruka face the gathered group –- currently standing in tension-filled uncertainty - looking an uncharacteristic picture of solemnity.
"Duelists of the Rose Code, Children of Fate," he said, blue eyes scanning over each and ever one of their faces. "All of you here are in the right time and place to matter in tonight's outcome. I ask that you do your part to assist our plan to save the 'World' from the 'End'."
"Nemuro-san is coming up from right behind us," said Tokiko, cell phone in hand. "Everything is in place for what is about to take place." Her other hand, currently pressed against the cab's door - behind which laid Mamiya's disembodied spirit - drew wary gazes from the Children of Fate present.
"Tsuchiya-sempai . . ." Unable to meet Ruka's gaze, Tsuwabuki glanced out of the clearing windows, currently revealing the vine-marred white castle they now were brought towards. "What you're proposing . . ."
"It does sound . . . cold," said a now completely human Nanami, who pressed her trim, trembling build against Tsuwabuki as though in desperate need of his bulk, his warmth.
Ruka sighed at their reactions. "Reality is cold as it is hard. For most people, the time when they shine brightly can only last for a brief moment." Blue eyes upon his former schoolmates, the phantom's handsome face came aglow with an aura at once noble and harsh. ""The Engaged Duelist your group currently supports is no exception."
' . . . the day we shine together . . .
'. . . shine together . . .'
"Listen to her go, reciting that same stubborn wish over and over again; an endless loop recorded upon memory, made eternal . . . a case of circular infinity without end."
Green eyes soft, Akio stepped past Utena, and up towards the coffin of hir past self.
"Fourteen year old Tenjou Utena certainly did resemble the Prince I once was," he said, reaching out to caress the silhouette girl's long pink hair –- a gesture that had the current Utena jolting. "But, your twenty-four year old self have no hope of resonating with Dios' revolutionary power."
He then cut at Utena with his piercing gaze.
"You; you have lost what every true revolutionary needs to do what they do - the ability to image a happy future."
Utena's teeth grinded audibly; Akio's expression darkened with melancholy.
"Indeed," ruminated the Ends of the World. "Ever since that time . . ."
He swiped his fingertips against the inside of the coffin's lid, and the following display came on as though it was a touch screen:
[Time: Year of the Revolution
[Place: Ohtori Academy
[/"You're so good at making women feel good."/ said Utena, flush-faced from where she reclined against the red convertible's seat. /"Sort of, not very Chairman-like, or maybe . . . kind of bad."/
[The girl glanced up at Akio, whose muscular figure currently hovered intimately over her wisp of a frame. She bit down upon her lower lip, looking coy.
[/"Kanae-san's such a wonderful person. I wonder . . . how she'd feel . . . if she finds out . . ."/ Eyes closed, this girl who wanted to become a noble prince then pursed her lips to await an adulterous kiss from the young, engaged acting chairman at school . . .]
"Her moment has past: Tenjou Utena - as she is now -can no longer shoulder the vast burden of Dios' Light," stated Ruka with cruel certainty.
"So you're proposing that we Duelists just stop supporting our Victor?" asked –- or rather, demanded –- Nanami, glaring balefully at her former schoolmate's spirit. "That we just let some upstart step in to take hold of Dios' Power of Revolution?"
Tsuwabuki appeared equally outraged. "After the ten-year build-up leading to this moment? After everything we Duelists had been through since our reunion?"
"We also have our reservations regarding the proposed plan," stated Masako, regarding Ruka with crossed arms from where she stood beside her friends. "That Takakura girl-"
"You've already put Himari-chan directly in harm's way by pushing her to join Triple H!" snapped Shouma, appearing almost completely human by now, albeit still younger than his real age. "And now, you're proposing that we-" He got cut off by a sweep of Kanba's arm.
"Most importantly, Tsuchiya-san, how do we know you and the Princess of the Crystal aren't again manipulating us like we're pawns?" asked the redhead – likewise appearing half his age - from where he stood ahead of their group. "How'd we know you two are not again endangering us for your own selfish gains?"
"You need something more to earn our trust, that's for sure," quipped Ringo from where she had her hands clasped upon Shouma's slim shoulders. "Some kind of guarantee, at the very least."
"Once bitten, twice shy," mused Ruka. "Hime-sama and I had indeed been manipulative in our attempt to stop Subway Attack Take Two. Then, if you will not trust me, perhaps you will find it in yourselves to at least listen to them." He gestured at the far end of the train car, where the three numbered AI Penguins could be seen lumbering up . . . each followed by a figure of great familiarity to many of those present.
"Can't be . . ." rasped Shouma, recoiling in fear as he recognized just who had appeared. "They're-"
"Dead." His sister -– Nanami –- now had came up to beside him; her hand, clasped around his, was cold as ice. "Like Tsuchiya-sempai." She glared hard at the otherworldly trio currently advancing upon them. "I can understand how they wouldn't stay dead, but to think they have the gall to show themselves to us now . . . !"
"How many years . . ." murmured Masako, stumbling past the others –- including her stone-still twin brother - and forward as though in a trance. "How many years has it been since we last saw each other?
"Uncle Kenzan, Aunt Chiemi . . . Father."
Eerie figures fading into invisibility at their lower halves, the ghosts of the core Kiga terrorists came up to in front of their ill-fated children, and spoke.
". . . it has been a long time.
"How many millenniums has it been since you've disguised yourself to keep watch over Brother and I?"
Completely somber-ed up (albeit still caught in the dream), Anthy faced the intruding entity with (metaphorical) fists clenched.
"Chu-Chu . . . or should I say . . . your Majesty?"
Adjusting the penguin hat atop his head, the King –- whose tall, regal features were superimposed above that of a miniature monkey - glanced down upon Anthy with ominous solemnity.
"It has been a very long time . . . Daughter."
[Time: Moment Pre-Revolution
[Place: Ohtori Academy
[/"That's right. You didn't even try to understand Anthy."/
[/"In the end, you had your hands full just thinking about yourself."/
/"How cute. You're a good woman."/ said Akio, staring down upon Utena in sarcastic contempt. /"You should stay a girl."/]
BAM!
Having slammed the coffin shut, the current Utena kept hir heated glare fixed upon Akio.
"What's the point in bringing up all this again, huh?" s/he asked, prior to raising hir voice right in the man's face. "I'm OVER you! I'm over that hurdle you've placed in my life trying to destroy me for your own gain!" S/he grabbed onto the front of Akio's unbuttoned shirt; he did not resist. "All that crap you'd done to me before is in the past! The past cannot hurt me now! So why-"
[/"If you won't do this for me, I'll kill myself right here in your clinic!"/]
Stunned by that dialogue –- spoken in hir old "girl's voice" –- Utena turned slowly towards the closed coffin lid, which had also became a video screen:
[Time: 3 years Post-Revolution
[Place: _ Clinic
[Utena, now an androgynous almost-adult with hair cropped short, could be seen holding a cutter blade to her neck as some nurse watched on, horrified.
[/"This place has no license, right?" hissed the young woman like a cornered animal. "If someone dies here, and the police get involved, this whole joint will get shut down, no?"/
[/"Tenjou-san, please calm down!"/
[/"You will give me treatment!"/]
"You-" Mortified and agitated, Utena banged hir fists hard against the coffin's "video lid"; it did not so much as make the display waver. "Akio, now dare you . . . !"
[/"Tenjou-san, stop it!/ cried the nurse. /"You don't even really identify as a male-"/
[/"I'm NOT a girl!/ Utena appeared hysterical. /"Not a 'good woman' to be looked down upon by some prick who'd fuck anything with a hole, even his own sister! I, I . . ."/
[/"Tenjou-san, neither misogyny nor misandry are valid reasons to go through a procedure meant to help people with legit gender dysphoria -"/
[/"I'm a prince! A prince . . . all dressed in white, engulfed in roses . . . a romantic ideal." Utena's eyes, wide and wild, gazed past the nurse and into spaces unknown. "All the girls want him, and all the boys want to be him. That's me. That is what I identify as –- a revolutionary prince!"/]
"Stop this thing!" screeched Utena, who had now taken to kicking at the video-display coffin. "Just-"
[/"Our psychiatric evaluation is already far laxer than that of the big hospitals, and you still don't pass!"/ said the nurse, persisting on with trying to deter her. /"Fact is that you are not able to psychologically function in the male life role! Also, your mental health . . ."/
[/Utena appeared deaf to her pleas. "Revolution . . . that's right: revolution means change! Yes . . . by going through this sex change, I will become the real thing: a true, revolutionary prince!"/]
[/"The changes will be irreversible, and risky health-wise. Tenjou-san, you've got histories of cancer from both sides of your family. HRT causes changes in hormonal levels, which, for you, means an over 80 percent chance of incurring -"/ The nurse went silent at seeing the thin line of red now trailing down the side of Utena's neck.
[/"You will revolutionize my body,"/ ordered Utena - having since broken the skin on her neck with the blade –- with steely finality. /"I will become a prince, for real this time."/]
And the coffin's lid cracked under Utena's soul sword, now puncturing right through its surface. S/he watched, with hir heart thumping in hir chest, the video capturing this painful moment from hir past slowly fading away.
"The past can certainly affect the present, and unto the future," said Akio, having since crept up to beside hir. "Because actions have consequences." Utena would have again tried ramming her sword right through the man's dark heart, if not for having already known of the futility in attempting so.
Apparently seeing right through hir defiance and hir weakness, Akio continued with his onslaught of words:
"Having forced yourself through a treatment completely at odds with both your physical and mental states, you ended up –- predictably –- in a mess.
"By the time my sister had found you, three years ago, your badly mutilated body was already wrecked under the effects of cancer.
"The cancerous growth must have already been in its advanced stages even then. My sister had likely told you how not even a witch of my sister's caliber can reverse the damage. She then hatched up this plan to undo me for my power, hoping to use it to heal your rotting, mutilated flesh, maybe to even give you a new body – one with the gender of your choice.
"Yet, you know in your heart that you are unable to choose on this matter."
The smashed coffin shattered like a cracked egg, from within which three different coffins emerged. All semi-translucent, each contained a silhouette representation of Utena at the different stages in hir life: child, teen, adult.
Feeling hir limbs slowly overtaken by numbness, Utena noted how the adult silhouette was constantly shifting between male and female forms, with hir hair long one moment, and short the next.
"As a child, you wished to be a princess because you aspired to become just like your mother.
"As a teen, you wished to be a prince because you aspired to become just like Dios.
"Do you even know what you wish to become - or even what you are - today?"
Akio slapped a hand over the top of the coffin, and its lid fogged over, obscuring the silhouette within.
"Tenjou-kun, what role do you want to play in society? How do you want to spend the rest of your life? Do you want to live it as a woman? A man? Both? Or, perhaps somewhere in between?
"You cannot possibly imagine any future – let alone a happy one – for yourself without having answers to those questions."
"One cannot revolutionize the world without knowing one self."
A sweep of his hand, and Akio had the coffins sinking back into the hail of swords and out of view.
"This is why whatever fiery front you've donned throughout our conflict on this night," he said, his eyes never leaving Utena's face. "You ultimately lack that 'spark' it takes to win life's real battles –- thus explains the humdrum life you've been leading out in the read world, post graduation."
"No." Utena shook hir head with a jauntiness betraying hir current emotion turmoil. "I don't need no happy future for myself. As long as Anthy . . ."
"Are you still trying to use 'do it for Anthy' as the magic spell to propel yourself onwards through life's troubles, even now?"
"I-"
"Even though it is now you who needs my sister's help?
"That's . . ."
"Even though, after having lived with her for three years, you still cannot even bring yourself to bed her like a proper prince - or even lover - would?"
That final sentence from Akio impacted Utena like a stinging slap, prompting hir to lose hir cool as s/he pounced the tall man in artless rage.
Allowing Utena's sword to sail through his insubstantial-seeming body, Akio then caught hir free hand in a firm grip, and pressed it upon his very physical pectoral, bared from underneath his unbuttoned top.
"This, is much more to your liking than Anthy's womanly curviness, isn't it, Tenjou-kun?" asked Akio, offering her a sultry, gallant smile condescending in its current context.
"Let go of me!" shouted Utena, red in the face as s/he clawed ineffectively at hir brazen adversary. "Let . . ." And s/he stopped at realizing something.
She –- for Utena's body had by now morphed completely back into that of a woman –- was moist with arousal.
"You once asked me what eternity is," mused Akio, rubbing salt into injury by reminding her of that damnable night at the motel right at this damnable moment. "Well, a person's preference is certainly something that can stick with them for life." He watched, with keen eyes, the trembling of Utena's now delicate, shapely legs. "Flesh doesn't lie; you might 'love' my sister for her damsel-act - perfect platform for you to display your heroism. Yet, the princely male - your innate preference - remains the only thing in this world that can sate you basest desires."
Utena's legs gave out, and she – her wrist now held up high in Akio's iron grip – found herself sagging down and against her adversary's dark, bared torso. The scent of roses, couple with the feeling of toned, powerful musculature, had her betrayed by her profuse, labored panting.
"Even as a child, you've been drawn towards Dios' - in your own wording - prettiness. So attracted to him were you, that you had followed him out of your coffin and into the world again. Ten years ago, the schoolgirl you were succumbed to the worldly charms of Acting Chairman Ohtori Akio despite knowing he's not only engaged, but likely also the Ends of the World behind Ohtori's machinations. The experience left you frightened of your natural feminine cravings, to the point that you resorted to erasing your own womanhood at the cost of your own health. Ten years of going without any man – let alone a prince – to sate your needs . . ." He cast his gaze over Touga, now lying still beside her feet on the thorn-sword coated floor. ". . . no wonder you did not reject Touga when he became one with you earlier on."
"You're no prince," whimpered Utena, flushed crimson as she struggled to keep from reaching for Akio's virile flesh with her free hand. "Meat; you're just meat to me, and to those other women you've fucked, nothing more."
"Nice to hear what you really think of me," said Akio, his tone cultured and calm in face of her vulgar wording.
He let go of Utena's hand then, and she collapsed to her knees in front of him like a flower snapped at the stem. The sword blades making up the floor scraped at her palms and knees, but the pain hardly registered, so mortified was she then.
"Shall we see just how much longer you can hold on to your defiance?"
"Do you really think you can draw strength - indefinitely - from the depressing knowledge that not only are you dying from cancer, but also that your 'beloved' is someone you can never desire?" asked Akio, eyes on Utena's.
Utena, who felt him looking down upon her, found her own head lowering in an involuntary motion. Desperate to hold onto something – anything - she clasped her hand around Touga's, but found his hand to be no warmer than the metals now surrounding them.
His soul sword had since vanished from sight.
Afterwards, after she finally broke down screaming aloud in hopeless despair, she still could not completely block out those damnable words that Akio had persisted on saying:
"Whatever power you plan to take from me, it will not help you with you situation - and you know that. There is, after all, no imagining a happy future - and, ultimately, no drive for revolution - for someone who does not even know how to get out of their current mess.
"So you see, you have been destined to lose the moment we clash, Tenjou Utena."
"All this time, and I never knew."
Acting out in childlike, uncalculated anger –- something she had not done for a very long time - Anthy raised her voice at the one who had been deceiving her all along.
"Never did I considered the possibility of Father, who once was the King of the Earth, would go as far as to disguise himself as-"
"An elephant, at the end of its lifespan, parts from the herd and dies in solitude."
The King's words, spoken in his weary, wistful voice, impacted Anthy like a gentle, chiding pat to the cheek. Before she knew it, tears were forcing their way out of her eyes, blurring her vision as she got choked up.
"It doesn't want to make its children sad," continued the King. "The parent elephant chooses to die alone so the young ones cannot grief over its corpse. From parent to child; a love being passed on, eternally, like-"
"Like circular infinity without end," murmured Anthy, wiping the wetness off of her eyes with an uncultured, childlike roughness - one reminiscent of the mannerism she had in her true, ancient childhood. "The reincarnation story I told Utena about . . . . Somehow, I had forgotten how you were the one who told it to me in the first place." Shoving that bittersweet girlish memory back to the back of her mind, she tried to refocus upon current, pressing concerns. "Utena . . . I need to wake up, need to go save her from . . ." She found, to her dread, that she was unable to wake up, that this eerie dream state was somehow holding her captive, coffined. "Brother . . . he-"
"All in good time, Daughter," soothed the King, appearing dismissive of her franticness. "Let's focus on our reunion for now."
" 'Reunion' indeed," muttered Anthy, anger re-ignited as she faced the father who had been deceiving her - in an utmost humiliating manner - for longer than known human history. "Yes . . . let's."
"I know it's difficult for you to see us again like this.
"But there are things we must tell you and your friends, before this Train is to reach its fateful destination.
"Let us talk . . . Captives of Fate."
Goose bumps raised, Nanami noted how Shouma, if anything, recoiled at the beckoning of Takakura Kenzan and Chiemi –- currently hovering behind Number Two and Number Three, respectively –- in apparent fear. Moving protectively in front of her younger brother –- acting just like the older sister she only recently realized herself to be - she faced the ghosts of her late parents in anger and revulsion.
"Back off from my brother," she warned these unsavory characters whose mere presence made her wish she had never been born. "What right do you have to say anything to him? You're terrorists; you stopped being his parents the moment you've ruined his future with your atrocious crimes."
Chiemi turned towards her enraged daughter with saddened eyes. "Nanami-chan-"
"That's Kiryuu-san to you," hissed Nanami. "Did you forget? You stopped being my mother the moment you and your husband pawned Oniisama and I off to repay your own debts!"
She saw Chiemi's expression further dimming at her words; Kenzan, who stood beside his wife, now had his head hanging so low, his chiseled face got obscured under thick shadows.
Their obvious guilt and shame served only to further disgust their estranged daughter.
"Do you know what happened to Oniisama over at the Kiryuu's? Do you know the things he got put through?" Nanami was now on a row. "Do you know what he's become?" Eyes on the downcast Takakura couple, She stabbed a finger down at her younger brother, still an "invisible" shadow of a broiled-down child. "Do you know what Shouma-kun has become?" Vaguely, she noticed how the short-bob-haired girl had come forth to clasp Shouma's hand within hers; the focus of her attention – her hatred – remained fixated upon her dead parents. "Do you know what I've become?" demanded Nanami, now pointing at herself. " 'NOTHING'! We've all amounted to 'nothing' in the end, all thanks to you two-"
A weakness in her legs (from all the blood rushing to her head, perhaps?) had the enraged blonde faltering. Strong arms enveloped her from behind, squishing her against this increasingly familiar-seeming broad chest, steadying her.
"Enough, Nanami-sama," came Tsuwabuki's tenor, gruff at the edges. "I won't let you talk about yourself like this."
" . . . idiot," murmured Nanami, though her hands reached up to clasp themselves above his: this boy-turned-man with a bright future in front of him, who somehow still found her – older, jaded and career-less - worthwhile. "You're such an idiot."
"Nanami-chan, it wasn't like this."
Blinking back tears she had not realized she had been shedding, Nanami saw that the speaker was this other ghost standing beside her late parents . . . a figure looming behind the penguin marked Number One.
"Kenzan-kun did not incur the debt out of greed or other character failings," said this solemn-faced man, who bore much resemblance to the broiled down Natsume Kanba - currently huddled up against the feisty curly-haired girl of the group. "Rather, he became the guarantor for the huge loan out of loyalty to an old friend of his. But that friend disappeared on Kenzan-kun, leaving the Takakura family to carry the full blunt of the debt."
"Father-" started Kanba, but was silenced by a gesture from the man.
"Nanami-chan." The man - revealed to be the late Mr. Natsume - remained focused upon the angry blonde. "I was there when the loan sharks showed up to coerce your family into giving you and your brother away to Kiryuus." His voice, even at first, came to be marred by a pained-tremor. "I saw, with my own eyes, how one of the thugs dangled the toddler you were over a boiling pot of water to threaten your family into signing the deal." He stared straight into Nanami's since widened eyes. "Touga-kun was crying into Chiemi-san's lap like the helpless child he still was. Kenzan-kun was down on his knees begging them to take his organs instead of taking away his children." His voice dropped. "Powerless on my own, I tried borrowing money from Father to help them pay off the debt, but he scolded me for even involving myself with someone who was not from high society."
"Was that how you came to be disowned by the Natsume Clan?" asked the curly-haired girl together with Kanba. "Because you fought Grandfather when trying to help the Takakuras?"
"I did what I believed to be the right thing to do at the time," murmured Mr. Natsume.
"All of us were like that. That was why, when we thought we had a chance to bring down this unfair, oppressive system that ripped our lives apart . . ."
"You people really thought you were doing the right thing when you bombed those trains sixteen years ago?"
Shouma's quietly spoken words jolted Nanami out of the daze she had since fallen into listening to the incredible story. Indeed, whatever cruel hand fate had dealt these people, fact remained that they were terrorists –- their sin lied in hurting and kill innocent people who had nothing to do with their misery. To think she had almost forgiven them . . . Nanami gripped Tsuwabuki's hands harder, and found their coldness to match her own.
"Indeed, what we did was inexcusable," admitted Kenzan, as though reading his daughter's mind. "Suffering on as undying ghosts now is our rightful punishment. But, we're not here to ask for forgiveness or understanding, for no apology from our mouths can mend the damage we've done to our loved ones and our world."
"Then what are you all here for?" asked the short-haired girl, now standing beside Shouma in apparent solidarity.
Facing the guarded, distrustful group - many of whom their own children –- the three ghosts visibly straightened their stances, before offering their piece.
"Tell me then, was the Princess of the Crystal behind your 'Chu-Chu' deception?"
Even 'dreaming', Anthy felt herself heating up as per her budding, humiliation-induced rage.
"Did she sent you to me, under the guise of a pet, such that I could have my own father watch me copulate with my own brother? Is that her way of getting back at me, at us?"
Calm eyes upon his angry daughter, the King let Anthy had her tirade, prior to continuing on:
"Not wanting to upset my children, I, fading from illness, left the Kingdom to die alone out in the wilderness.
"But not before I passed on the Light of the World to your brother, my heir.
"Wrecked by illness, I watched, from the sidelines, the Kingdom's shaky survival under your brother's naïve, idealistic leadership.
"I saw how, instead of you, it was this other girl who was given a piece of your brother's pure heart, and got free rein to ride the Fate Steed out into the World."
Anthy's fingers flexed at the humiliating reminder; her father continued on.
"This other girl, made Princess of the Crystal by your brother's authority, found me while I was on the blink of death, and actually tried saving me - the old, dying king she respected - by exercising Fate."
That took Anthy by surprise. "But . . . she should've known . . ."
"Indeed," nodded the King. "Preventing something as big as a predestined death through Fate Change will incur significant backlash upon the Fate Changer. As she acted before I could have stopped her, I had to be hasty in seizing the backlash for this reckless, good-hearted girl. Thus how I came to become this base creature -– such was the price Fate demanded of me for dodging a King's death.
"Bound under this form, even my once brilliant mind got greatly debilitated by the physical limitations imposed.
"I would have become an ordinary monkey for real, had the Princess not spared me some of the power she earned from your brother."
He produced a small sliver alit with a purple glint - one that had Anthy widening her eyes.
"Is that . . . ?"
"The final missing piece off your brother's Heart Crystal," confirmed the King. "It is with this that I've managed to retain more intelligence than a mere beast; and, more importantly, affection for my own children.
"Daughter, do you recall just when did you first acquire Chu-Chu as your 'friend'?"
Anthy, who got her father's drift, opted for silence.
"After the Princess's cruel murder at your hands, it was her spirit who guided me towards you. It was her forgiving kindness that allowed me not to spy, but to keep watch over you and your brother." The King's gaze, trained upon her, turned stern with condemnation. "She did this in spite of the grievous debt our since disgraced royal family owed her."
Anthy's lips tensed into a flat line.
Exhaling aloud, the King glanced off and into the distance. "Daughter, a 'princess' is someone admirable –- albeit in a different way than a prince.
"The Princess of the Crystal, who does not have a single petty, vindictive bone in her strong, noble character, was more than worthy of carrying the title of 'princess'. Had your brother succeeded in making her his crown princess, perhaps . . . just perhaps the Prince could have avoided his spectacular fail, and the World could have avoided its long, painful Fall."
"Yes. It's all my fault," admitted Anthy. "I did murder the Princess out of jealousy, after all, and sent everything going downhill. Do you hate me now?"
The King turned to face her baleful glare with his even gaze. "If I say I do, will it get you to change your ways, turn your life around, and become someone capable of imaging a happy future?"
So simple a counter-question had Anthy's defensive stance cracking like an eggshell. Even after all that had happened, all the bad blood between them, the King still cared for her as a father; even now, she still was her father's daughter.
"But it is a stretch to say that the Princess is not vindictive," she mumbled, nonetheless. "I mean, tonight . . ."
The King sighed. "Daughter, did you really think the Princess had shown up tonight for something as petty as vengeance? Did you think your brother had managed to reclaim the Heart Crystal because the Princess had truly crumbled under his might?"
"But-" And Anthy stopped, at last getting her father's drift. "Father . . . you don't mean . . .?"
Giving her a meaningful look, the King lifted a hand, swiped it downwards, and created what appeared to be a space gape. Akio and Utena could be seen situated against a sword-cluttered backdrop; the former stood poised and assured, the latter –- appearing female - was down on her knees and holding onto the comatose Touga, crying.
Though worried for Utena, Anthy gradually picked up on what was off with this picture. "Father, do I see . . .?"
"You see correctly," stated the King, watching what became of his once noble son and heir with stone-hard eyes. "The tides are about to change . . . no; everything in the World is about to change soon."
"This can't be . . . ?"
The Duelists, having regained their footing, now stared dumbfounded at what their opponent had drawn out of his body.
"Why so surprised?" asked Tatsuya, brandishing his highly unusual "soul weapon" with a savage grin upon his sculptured face. "There are, after all, as many types of blades as there are people."
Saionji eyed the revealed object in horrified fascination. "But . . . a flying guillotine what the FUCK-" He only narrowly managed to dodge the guillotine's sharp-edged disc - hooked to long loops of chains controlled by Tatsuya's agile hands - sailing straight for his head. "This thing . . . !" And they battled amidst the invisible audience's diffused, echoing rounds of applause.
"I see." Miki observed the ensuing battle between the kendoist and the specialized weapon user with face drawn tight. "What is an idol if not someone who can make people lose their heads over them?" Gradually, a sharp glint came visible within his eyes of blue. "However!"
Foil in hand, the intelligent fencer dived past Saionji -– currently struggling to keep the flying disc at arm's length with his katana –- and straight for Tatsuya's seemingly unprotected body.
"A ranged weapon like this will certainly leave its wielder wide-open to up close attacks!" exclaimed Miki . . . before getting whooped a bad one by the guillotine's swishing, serpentine chain.
"Kaoru-san!" The Triple H girls screamed in fright at seeing their childhood idol fall back in a grotesque shower of spilled blood.
"Tatsuya!" Wakaba moved hastily in front of the tweens to shield them from the violent sight. "Stop this right now you hear me! Stop!"
Wakaba's words fell on deaf ear, as Tatsuya –- long limbs flailing dramatically about –- performed some intricate moves that sent the guillotine's deadly disc diving repeatedly at Saionji like some vicious boomerang given a life of its own.
"Tatsuya . . ."
"So, the flying guillotine doubles as a multi-chain-whip as well," rasped Saionji, apparently tiring fast under the guillotine's relentless attacks. "What fun."
"Whatever you do keep distance," warned Miki from where he was scampering painfully off to the side. "The entire area within the guillotine's reach is a death zone!"
"I'm not gonna-" Whatever else Saionji was about to say got cut off by the guillotine's disc abruptly opened up maw-like to bite the blade right off of his katana. The weapon retracted, leaving the tallish man –- green eyes wide and glassy –- to collapse as though the life had gone out of him.
"Saionji-sempai . . . !" Overwhelmed by the turn of events, Wakaba found herself trembling. "W-Why . . . why are things turning out this way? Tatsuya . . ."
Retracting the guillotine, her unrecognizable old friend then examined the snapped blade clamped within the snapping disc with showy disdain.
"Saionji Kyouichi, born to wealth and beauty, who used both to walk all over the ordinary students back at Ohtori Academy; look at him now . . . so sad." Collagen-puffed lips thinned, Tatsuya dropped the broken weapon to the ground, and raised his shoe over it . . .
"Sempai's soul sword . . . " panted Miki, watching in worry from where he crouched down in a bloodied mess. "If it gets smashed, like how Tenjou-sempai's was . . ."
"NO!" screamed Wakaba, already charging forward. "Tatsuya! You can't-" A whish of a whopping chain, hitting the ground right in front of her shoe, froze her in her tracks. "Tatsuya . . ."
"Wakaba . . .you're still attracted to this man even now?" asked Tatsuya, gripping the flying guillotine so hard that his finger joints were whitening. "Even though he is now a nobody with no discernable career to speak of? Even though . . . even though I've been through so much - sacrificed so much - just to get to the top –- just to be seen by you?
"Shinohara Wakaba . . . even now, you would still overlook me in favor of Saionji Kyouichi?"
"Tatsuya . . ." In spite of everything, Wakaba still found herself moved by the hurt, wet glimmer she now saw within Tatsuya's surgically-altered eyes. "Tatsuya, that's not the point! I'm stopping you because it's wrong what you've been doing, being a pawn to that awful Ohtori Akio-"
"I'm not a pawn to that sick freak!" snapped Tatsuya, seemingly appalled by her words. "He is the one who needs me to procure human souls for him, to keep his fairytale kingdom running! I know him . . . the so-called prince might've been big in the past, but he's NOTHING without me now! NOTHING!"
Wakaba was baffled by his response. "Then . . . then you also hate Ohtori Akio, don't you? So why are you even helping him?" Her question was met by Tatsuya's sharp laugh, one near-indistinct from a shrill scream.
"Oh Wakakba . . . you don't change . . ." Gigging with high-strung hysteria, he pointed at her like a brat at someone he had punked. "You ditz . . . you knew the 'old me'; how do you think I come to be like this?"
Before Wakaba could even begin to reply, Tatsuya's wardrobe opened up as though moved by phantom winds, baring to her wide eyes his current torso and hips.
It was undoubtedly the most beautiful male body she had ever seen, on screen or in person. The elegant lines, the lean musculature, the luminous complexion . . . everything was exactly as would best please the eye.
Wakaba, who could find nothing of the old Tatsuya in this body, felt only a peculiar numbness at witnessing its current, improbably beauty.
Said numbness frosted over into chilling horror at what Tatsuya revealed next:
"The nails and eyeballs are the only external features on me that haven't been fiddled with, the rest are all artificial. Flesh was cut, fat was drained, bones were broken, blood vessels and nerves were re-routed . . . reckless changes were made to this body to make it what it is today.
"Now how do you think everything is kept from falling apart despite the excessive reconstructions?"
Wakaba, who felt her brain got fried by the grotesque info, shook her head with numb slowness.
Eyes on her, Tatsuya kicked Saionji's broken blade up and off the floor. Wakaba watched, in shock, the soul sword morphing into what looked like half of a red, glowing globe, soon to land upon Tatsuya's upturned palm. At the bisected globe's appearance, the sword hilt laid forgotten beside Saionji (still comatose) flew off the ground and straight towards it; the two merged together into a complete red globe
"The penguindrum, the apple of the spirit, the egg of the soul . . ." purred the idol, prior to shoving the organic-seeming globe right through the skin of his firm chest. "This, here, is the magical glue that keeps this hazardously reassembled body in one stable piece."
Wakaba watched, in involuntary wonder, how Tatsuya's face and body - already spectacular in appearance - sharpened and smoothed and glowed and darkened in all the right places to become even more stunning than before. Now she found herself captivated by him, or, rather, those various physical details making up his outstanding beauty. Her gaze strayed - as though drawn by forces unseen - across his long neck, his defined shoulders, his waspy waist, his Adonis' belt . . .
"It was for you that I've undergone this change," said her prince, his voice - the only thing about him she found familiar - enriched by the passing of years. "It was you who gave me the will to seize a power that my humble birth had denied me.
"I've gone from an ordinary sob into becoming one of the richest, most influential man in Asia, hoping to catch your eye.
"This onion has defied all odds to sprout a garden in full flower, just to be seen by you.
"Won't you come back to me . . . Wakaba?"
"Tatsuya . . ." murmured Wakaba, heady from the sweetness within his words, and the passion within his beautified eyes. "I . . ."
" . . . SEMPAI! Saionji-sempai!"
Shocked out of the trance she had since fallen into, Wakaba turned to see Miki - having since struggled over - holding desperately onto Saionji , whose large, rugged frame was slowly rounding out into what looked like a male gender symbol –- one indistinct from those airy multitudes cluttering up the background like phantom-ish balloons.
"Saionji-sempai!" Hurrying over to Saionji's side, Wakaba held onto what become of him in horror and desperating. "Miki-kun, what's happening to him?"
"No . . ." Miki examined what become of the transformed Duelist with creased brows. "Sempai has been rendered an invisible person, just like these crazed fans!"
Said fans, milling around their immediate surroundings all along, started to tug at the invisible-ized Saionji, drawing him into their invisible, identical midst. The two hurried to hold on to their old school's now handless stump of an arm, to keep him with them.
"Don't let them take him away!" cried Miki – weakened from injury - to Wakaba. "We won't be able to find him again should he get lost in the Invisible Storm!" Knowing this to be true, Wakaba worked with the other Duelist to secure Saionji, as they both struggled to ward off the gender symbols now swarming them.
"What do we do? What do we do?" gasped Wakaba, watching helplessly as Saionji's now basic, slippery form now threatened to slide out of their hold. "Tatsuya . . ." In desperation, she turned towards the one responsible for Saionji's current plight. "Tatsuya! What have you . . . done . . ." The accusation in her voice –- in fact, her entire voice –- dropped as she saw the look on Tatsuya's face.
"Even now, after his fall, after my triumph . . . you're still ignoring me in favor of the likes of him," said Tatsuya, smiling a harrowing, almost deranged smile that made even his current beauty a macabre sight. I'm still transparent to you; you still can't hardly see me." A single tear escaped his wide, wild eyes to streak down his chiseled cheek. "Just like . . . that time."
"W-What . . . time?" Tensed. Wakaba found herself looking away, somehow unable to face Tatsuya. "I don't know what you're talking about . . ."
'Don't you know? Don't you know?
'Don't you wonder what we know?'
Even as the eerie, familiar girlish voices drilled into her ears, Wakaba's surrounding had dimmed with theatrical swiftness. She saw a condensed beam of light (originating from the projector, perhaps?) speared down to right beside her. Within that light was a holographic apparition of a vaguely familiar scene . . . it took Wakaba a moment to recognize it to be Ohtori Academy's ivory-white Front Gates, currently reddened by the sunset.
In front of those gates stood teenage Tatsuya in streetwear, looking just like how she remembered him from around the time when she left Japan. Wakaba, who saw him cast into silhouette from the harsh lights, thought he very much resembled those shadow-plagued Takakura boys in this scene.
It was then that she noticed the bouquet of roses he now held in his hands.
"Green Roses . . ." murmured Wakaba, eyes widening as a long-forgotten memory –- one that she considered inane - started resurfacing in her mind.
Having rekindled her friendship with Tatsuya since his transferring to Ohtori, she had, in those days right before she left Ohtori, came to be an item of sorts with him. No, they were never really a couple; though, thinking back, Wakaka now came to remember that they came fairly close to being one. In fact, there was that one time where she made some casual comment about liking green roses, and Tatsuya had –- in a moment of cute contrivance –- offered to take her on some rose-themed date . . . which somehow never did happen, because . . .
. . . because -
"Kazami, weren't you supposed to be off on that date with Shinohara?"
Wakaba now saw that members of the basketball team –- a number of whom she recognized by face from having watched Utena playing against them –- now were walking through the gates as though having returned from an off-campus game. They now were gathered around the bouquet carrying Tatsuya in boyish curiosity.
"What? Don't tell me she's ditching you last minute?"
"Isn't this already her last day here?"
"Isn't she is leaving Honou like tomorrow?"
Tatsuya remained silent; the boys continued chatting on amongst themselves.
"Well, I saw Shinohara hanging around the Kendo Dojo just earlier on."
Wakaba jolted at hearing that. Yes, that was it, the missing piece from her incomplete memory of that time . . .
"To meet Saionji? Even after that love-letter fiasco?"
"Rumor has it that she had Saionji hidden in her dorm room during his expulsion earlier on, but got kicked aside right after he got re-admitted . . ."
"Well, you know how girls are with elite guys from rich families, especially one so special as to be on Ohtori's Student Council."
"Yep. Average girls had no problem sucking up to special guys who walk all over them hoping to land one, but will demand us average guys to suck up to them."
"Arggg! Why do all the girls only want rich, good-looking guys like those fake princes in mangas and dramas?"
"Ordinary guys like us are invisible to them, they can hardly even see us . . ."
Only vaguely listening in on the teens' juvenile speculations, Wakaba thought back to what had transpired on that, in retrospect, rather fateful day.
It was her last day at Ohtori. After classes, after she had since changed into a cute dress she bought off the rack on her meager allowance, fourteen-year-old Wakaba was on her way to meet Tatsuya at the Gates, when she heard the following while passing by the Dojo.
" . . . how many years has it been since we've been like this?"
It was Saionji's voice, coming low and raw; he now sounded more vulnerable – almost forlorn - than she had ever heard him sound, no even when he was hiding at her doom room.
"Even after all that crazy we've just been through, you haven't changed . . . but then neither have I."
And, before she could even summon her better judgment, the girl had since tip-toed her way towards the dojo's entrance. Even knowing nothing good will ever come of her having anything to do with him ever again, she still could not resist peeking in from the outside.
"Since when have I ever refused you anything?" murmured Saionji into his cell phone while he leaned his elongated frame against the dojo's hardwood wall.
It was his expression –- downcast, with a faint hint of a pout developing over his shapely lips –- that betrayed the intimacy he was sharing with the person on the other side of the line.
"We'll talk further on the bike ride to the woods-" He turned his head towards the door with a swift, abrupt violence that sent his green high tail whipping through the air. "WHO?!"
Wakaba was already fleeing across campus as though chased by some ravenous monster she could ill face.
So, even tough, high-flying Saionji Kyouichi –- who treated innumerable fawning girls like they were mere wallflowers –- would open himself up like this to someone.
Who was on the other side of the line? Himemiya Anthy? No . . . Himemiya had disappeared fairly soon after Utena's disappearance. Besides, the vibe she got back there was way different from what she had witnessed between Saionji and Himemiya.
Then . . . who-
*Splash!*
Stumbling to a stop, Wakaba saw that she had inadvertently ran into a mud puddle pooled beside an old building.
Seeing the stagnated water marring her dress, and feeling its coolness upon her skin, the girl -– still panting from exertion - gradually recollected her wits about.
Whoever Saionji was now close to, it does not and should not be her concern. She was, after all, just some ordinary girl whose sanctuary he took back when he needed it. He left her with hurried haste the moment he got back on his feet again. Was that not proof enough that the Student Council Vice President would never be with an ordinary girl like her?
Was that not why she was now settling for Tatsuya-
Settling.
Indeed, that was exactly why she was wearing this dress planning on going to this date with Tatsuya, when Saionji still held such prominence in her thoughts. She was settling for Tatsuya because a "easier" catch than Saionji. And she was leaving Japan soon; even if it doesn't work out with him, there would be little to be awkward about afterwards
Shinohara Wakaba, born into middle class and average looks, settling at fourteen.
It was with such grim thoughts that young Wakaba had returned to her own dorm room, changed out of her ruined new dress, showered, and spent the rest of the evening packing up for her trip out of Honou and back home. It was only much later that it occurred to her she should have contacted Tatsuya to cancel the date. But by then, it was already near midnight, and it would be awkward for her to call and apologize for standing it up. Besides, having just changed her mind on settling for Tatsuya, she now found herself leery of contacting him.
And that, as the woman now recalled, was how her younger self took the coward's way out –- she fled the country without even saying goodbye to the boy who was, at the very least, her oldest friend.
"So . . . you still can't get that much-anticipated kiss from your princess?"
"Ohtori Akio . . ." Twenty-four year old Wakaba jolted back to the present at hearing that familiar voice. Blinking, she now saw that the basketball boys hanging around Tatsuya were gone, replaced by the Acting Chairman now glancing down upon the downcast, bouquet-hugging boy from his superior height.
"What'd a guy like you know about not getting kisses?" mumbled Tatsuya.
"That is no way to talk to a school official," chided Akio, smiling as he waved what looked like two business cards in front of the sullen boy. Seeming disinterested at first, Tatsuya's eyes soon widened at what was written on the first card.
"This is . . . "
"The ticket to you revolutionizing your humdrum life."
"A talent agent . . . what nonsense!" Tatsuya laughed then. "I don't have the height or the face to be an idol." Said laughter died out as he studied the second card. "Dr. Watase Sanetoshi . . . a cosmetic surgeon?"
Akio's eyes narrowed in a smile. "Things can always change for you, long as you are willing to cast aside your past baggage and accept new changes."
The bouquet slipped out of Tatsuya's hand and fell to the ground, forgotten.
"I . . . can change . . ." murmured the boy, holding the cards with both hands now. "I can become someone she'd deem important, look up to, see as a prince . . ." His voice dropped to near inaudible. ". . .just like how it was when she first came to me."
"I'll leave these contacts for you," said Akio, patting the boy on the shoulder prior to walking off. "Should you ever desire change, call them." He stepped casually on the fallen bouquet, crushing the green roses bound within. "I suppose you have no choice but to revolutionize the world, now that the way before you has been prepared."
"Shinohara Wakaba," Tatsuya's low voice turned into a ragged hiss. "I . . . I will be seen!" With that statement, he, too, stepped over the fallen bouquet while exiting off view.
'Do you know? Do you know? Do you now know what we know . . . ?' giggled the girlish voices emitting through the thick shadows rippling around the past fading apparition.
"Oh, Tatsuya . . ." Wakaba found herself chilled to the bones at realizing just what –- and whom –- had driven her once sweet-natured friend towards the ends of his world. "Tatsuya, you dummy-"
*SWISH . . . !*
The lights came back on stage, revealing to her just what has been happening present-time.
She saw how the area within a five-meter radius of the "revolutionized" Tatsuya had since become a whirl of whipping, looping chains; the powerful idol now executed a complicated kata with his exotic weapon to form a metallic twister of sorts flaring around his taut, lanky figure. A number of gender symbols bumbling too close burst like bubbles upon getting sawed by the chains; Tatsuya, appearing high on rage, did not seem to care.
"Do you know?" he hissed from between gritted teeth. "The actual flying guillotine has more uses than simply decapitating people: it is also designed to rip the heart out."
"What's your old friend up to now?!" asked a frantic Miki of Wakaba.
Weighted under a combination of fear and guilt, Wakaba nonetheless forced herself to step up and towards this beautiful monster the friend she hurt had since become.
"Tatsuya! I'm sorry! I understand now, that I've hurt you back then . . . but you have to stop-"
The guillotine's disc shot forth at Wakaba trailing a hail of chains . . . passed her, where it then incited shrill, girlish screams from behind. Turning slowly, fearfully around, Wakaba saw, to her horror, the weapon securing its actual target.
"No . . ." whimpered Takakura Himari, pallid-faced, as she slowly clasped her small hands upon the disc –- now clamped firmly upon a red globe hovering in front of her light-basked chest. From beside her, Double H could be seen watching on, agape.
Tatsuya's gaze - maniac to the point of making even his new face ugly – was now trained upon that red, vibrant globe.
"Then, Himari-chan with your penguindrum all ripe to keep me the handsomest of all . . . shall we continue?"
End Finale Arc Part II
Endnotes: There you have it: Utena's issues in this story laid bare. Watching the Utena Movie back when it came out, I was surprised by how the BePapas have Movie!Utena use crossing-dressing - the denying of her feminine self - to repress her painful memory of her boyfriend's death. When I decided to write this post-series story in 2012, I tried incorporating that idea into the TV!canon: how will Utena deal after the Final Duel, having believed she failed as the swords rushed her? Plus Akio attacked Utena's amoral lust for him during Final Duel: how will that translate to another confrontation between the two years later? Thus how the painful Utena scenes in this story came to be.
The idea that Chu-Chu is Akio and Anthy's father comes from a plot twist near the end of Pet Shop of Horrors (fans of that series will know what I'm talking about). Somehow, the other characters' parents also found their way into these last chapters, thus making the Finale Arc far longer than I've previously anticipated.
Either way, the next update really should be the last. Then, how will the night end? Will Utena lose against Akio, who also got powerful and secretive forces working against him behind his back? Will Anthy be able to find a happy future with Utena? We now know Tatsuya's reason for being Seen, how will his situation with Wakaba be resolved? Will Himari survive to save Kanba and Shouma from "invisibility"? What in the world is Mrs. Ohtori planning for Mamiya, and how does it relate to Akio catching the Fate Train? What happens to everyone and their world after all this is over? All this and more shall be revealed in the next update, please keep an eye out for it! P.S. never forget the update-hastening power of C & C!