A little, or not so little, idea that had been flitting through my head
was the inspiration for this story. The product of many obsessive
hours of study and analysis, it takes place after Episode 39, with
obvious spoilers for the entire series.

Standard disclaimers apply. Shoujo Kakumei Utena is the property of
Chiho Saito, Be-Papas, TV Tokyo, and various other international
companies involved in its production and distribution.

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Terminus
By: Gramarye

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Either you had no purpose
Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured
And is altered in fulfilment.

-- T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets--Little Gidding

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It was a high-pitched whistling sound that woke me, I think. It
sounded a little like the dented old sewing machine that my aunt used
when I was young, when I heard the rhythmic noise late at night through
my closed bedroom door. It sounded a little like cold wind slipping
through a chink in the window. Whatever it was, it hummed and thrummed
until sleep decided to leave me and find someone else to curl up with.

I opened my eyes just a crack, my mind still groggy and not fully
awake. Brilliant sunlight streamed into the room, bright enough to
make me idly wonder if Himemiya had overslept--she usually woke me up
on school days, worried that my noisy alarm clock would disturb
Chu-chu. Even so, I'd know if she was still asleep. She always
snored, just a little bit.

/She must have let me sleep later than normal./ I rubbed my eyes,
stretched and rolled over, searching for my slippers.

I promptly found myself on the floor, dazed and bruised from my fall.

Rubbing the sore spot on my head, I opened my eyes fully and stared at
the sturdy wooden bunk bed and neatly arranged furniture of my room in
the East Dormitory.

/When...when did we move back in here? Why aren't we in the tower with
Akio...san..../

A sudden explosion of brutal pain in my chest knocked me flat on my
back. Wave after wave of cold nausea swept through me, and I curled
into a fetal position, knees pressed tightly to my body to try and stop
the awful burning inside me. No sickness I'd ever had hurt as much,
not raging menstrual cramps or stomach flu or the aftermath of one of
Himemiya's cooking experiments.

It subsided slowly, pain receding to a dull ache just behind my
breastbone. There was a faintly sour, metallic taste in my mouth, as
if I had been drinking water straight from a garden hose. With a
series of grunts, I stumbled to my feet and used the familiar furniture
as a crutch to get to the closet. I needed clothes and a shower before
I could even imagine pondering anything else.

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After a short shower in rusty-smelling and tepid water, I slowly padded
around the room, my damp fingers idly tracing patterns in the layers of
dust on the furniture. Except for the fluffy brown dust on everything
and a slightly musty smell, our room hadn't changed since we left it to
live in the tower.

/Himemiya...what's happened to her?/

I hadn't dared to venture outside the dormitory. The possibility of
running into Miki-kun, or Touga...or heaven forbid, Akio-san, was far
too great. Even seeing Wakaba wouldn't be a good idea. There was no
way to explain....

/Explain what?/ I wondered. /How can I explain what happened when I'm
not even sure myself?/

In the shower, I had noticed a thin gash across my back, between and
just below my shoulder blades. Encrusted blood edged the wound, which
throbbed angrily in the stream of murky water. The rest of the shower
was spent contorting my body in all manner of positions, trying to get
clean while avoiding the uncomfortable feeling of the water on my
aching back.

I had torn up a clean sheet to bind the sore spot, wrapping it around
and around my torso. When I had finished, I was swathed from armpits
to navel in white cotton, my breasts non-existant. While it didn't
flatter my naturally boyish figure, it kept my clothing from chafing
the already tender area. And in terms of clothing, I was tempted to
wear my "uniform", but settled for a well-worn sweater and pair of
trousers.

My toilette done, I flopped into a chair with a gusty sigh. Dust motes
swirled in the sunlight that tried to shine through the filthy
windowpanes. I sat there for a while, watching the sunlight move
in bars across the floor. I wasn't thinking about anything--one of
those strangely zen moments that always seem to come at the wrong
times.

The shadows had mostly faded by the time I decided to get out of that
chair. The room was uncomfortably warm, and I needed to move around.

Without even thinking, I shrugged my jacket onto my shoulders and
opened the door of our...my...*the* room.

The East Dorm was filthy--floors not scrubbed, furniture draped in
dingy dustcloths, windows and mirrors caked with thick layers of grime.
It was almost painful to see my former home in such disarray. Himemiya
had always kept it spotless, though I couldn't image how much time it
must have taken to clean and maintain an entire dorm, to keep it
looking presentable. I'd never really thought about it before.

I tried not to touch the gritty-looking bannister as I walked
downstairs and out the front door.

The building itself looked slightly more disheveled than I remembered.
The gutters and rainspouts hadn't been cleaned, and the ivy and other
climbing vines threatened to engulf a significant portion of the
dormitory. It made me a little sad to look at the dirty windows--I
half fancied I could hear Himemiya humming tunelessly as she busied
herself with cloths and buckets of steaming, soapy water. The East
Dorm sorely missed her gentle touch.

Turning my back on my old home, I set off on a leisurely stroll. It
soon brought me to the middle of campus. The grounds were completely
deserted--everyone was in class after lunch. A few discarded
prepackaged food wrappers made crinkling noises as the light wind
brushed past them.

I don't know exactly what happened at that moment. I was watching the
wrapper of a candy bar whirl around in a sudden updraft, and then the
whole world shifted beneath my feet and I was standing in the shadows
of the courtyard corridor, and then there was Himemiya in my line of
sight, walking quietly toward me.

A flicker of nausea turned my stomach, and my mind jangled with a
sickeningly discordant sense of displacement. The wound on my back
burned briefly but painfully, as if someone had set a white-hot poker
between my shoulders and pressed down for a moment.

I'm certain that my mouth was hanging open wide enough to catch flies.
And I think I remained that way until she passed by the pillar in front
of me, continuing down the corridor. She didn't even look at the
greenhouse, or even pause in her stride as she walked past.

This from the girl who seemed to spend most of her waking hours
prodding at the roses that bloomed inside its glass walls.

I quickly followed her at a safe pace, afraid to go near her, terrified
that if I tried to speak to her or touch her, a magic spell would be
broken and she would vanish like a burst soap bubble. I followed her
doggedly, just close enough to always keep her in my sight, but far
enough away to avoid suspicion. She turned a corner, crossing behind
the main high school building. For a moment I thought I had lost
her--only to catch up to her standing before the Chairman's tower.

She stopped at the elevator, and pressed the little pearl button next
to it. The doors slid noiselessly open. She stepped inside, and the
doors closed. The little light above the elevator began its slow
journey to the far right as the elevator rose.

Like a fool, I nearly pressed the button. I caught myself just before
my finger touched it, realizing that I would be a fool to get caught up
in whatever was going on up there. Yet the need to follow Himemiya was
stronger that my common sense, and I resolutely began to climb the fire
staircase inside the column.

/Akio-san might be many things,/ I thought, /but he's not fireproof.
At least I have no trouble with long flights of stairs./

The fire exit in the tower was concealed behind a curtain, since
flawing the elegant architecture of the top floor with a health
code-mandated addition was repugnant to its owner. I took care to
move very slowly and quietly, passing through the bedroom Himemiya and
I had shared, then peering cautiously around the doorway into the
Chairman's quarters.

Both Himemiya and Akio-san were in there. Himemiya stood in front of
Akio-san, and he was at his desk, working industriously on his
computer.

Feeling like the mustache-twirling villain in an old-fashioned comic
drama, I crept from my spying place and hid behind the planetarium
projector. My position provided me with a clear view of Himemiya and
the rest of the room, although the back of Akio-san's head blocked my
view of the computer screen.

Himemiya faced him, hands folded placidly in front of her. Chuchu,
looking tired and strangely listless, sat on the desk next to several
envelopes. My fists clenched unconsciously at the sight of the rose
seal pasted neatly over the flap.

"It hasn't been that long since then, but everybody's forgotten about
her completely," Akio-san said, his voice frighteningly casual. "She
didn't cause a Revolution after all." His fingers raced over the
keyboard. "Now that she's gone, she was just a dropout to this world."

If he had thought that he could elict a response from her, he was
disappointed. Himemiya didn't move, and her bland, vacant
expression--the one I hated so much--didn't change.

Calmly, he continued. "I have to rebuild the Code of the Rose Signet
from scratch. I'm counting on you, Anthy."

There was a soft click as Himemiya removed her glasses and placed them
on the table in front of him. Something deep inside me squirmed
momentarily, inexplicably. But a second later, Chuchu slipped off his
tie, removed his earring, and placed both on the table next to his
mistress' glasses.

"You don't know what happened, do you?" Anthy said quietly.

Startled, Akio-san looked up from the computer monitor. "Eh?"

She stared at him gravely. "It's all right now. Please continue
playing the make-believe 'Prince' in this comfortable little coffin
forever." She turned away from the desk and walked toward the
elevator. "However, I must go."

I could only imagine the look on Akio-san's face. "Go? Where?"

From over her shoulder, Anthy replied, "That person hasn't vanished.
She's merely left *your* world."

"What're you talking about?" He leapt out of his chair, papers and
sealed envelopes scattering wildy and falling to the floor. "W-wait a
minute! Anthy!"

She didn't stop. She didn't turn back, not even to look at him.

"ANTHY!!" he shouted, desperation tinging his cry.

"Farewell." The doors of the elevator slowly slid shut.

The bells that had signaled the start and end of each successive duel
began to ring just then, pealing out with the ethereal power and beauty
of a church carillion on Christmas morning. Akio-san collapsed into
his leather chair and seemed to wilt, defeated by their loud clamour.

If he heard the elevator bell ring, and the door slide open and closed
one more time, he showed no sign of hearing it.

Once in the elevator, I cheered out loud, my heart singing in silent
triumph. Himemiya was free--free of that horrible penance that forced
her to be the Rose Bride, free from her brother's control. She wasn't
a mindless, suffering puppet anymore. I did a silly little dance, too,
capering on my toes and giggling happily.

When I reached the ground, for a horrible moment I feared I would
discover that Himemiya had vanished. The relief I felt when the doors
opened and I saw her facing the front gate of the academy made my
stomach quiver.

My breath caught in my throat at the wonderful sight. With her glasses
gone, her bag packed, and a smart rosy pink traveling suit that had
magically appeared in place of the dowdy regulation skirt, Himemiya was
a different woman. I found myself gazing at her in awe, trying to find
in this beautiful and self-possessed lady any trace of the quiet
schoolgirl and sometime 'trophy' I had known.

Chuchu scrambled up and onto her shoulder, a small blue and white
handkerchief slung over his back. It was filled with food, I had no
doubt, but I had to suppress a quiet chuckle at the sight. Anthy
smiled indulgently at him, then turned to face the front gates.

"Now it's my turn to go to you," she said quietly, speaking to herself.
"No matter where you are, I'll find you for sure. Wait for me, Utena."

With barely a pause, she stepped lightly through the gates of Ohtori.
I ran after her, happily crying her name, but just before I reached the
entrance to the academy, I ran into a wall.

Or what felt like a wall, since the gates were wide open.

It's hard to describe exactly what was keeping me from following
Himemiya. It was a little like a wall, in the fact that it was hard
and absolutely unyielding. It was like a pane of newly-cleaned glass,
since it was perfectly transparent. Whatever it was, I threw myself at
it, trying to break through and run after Himemiya. It didn't move.

I kept hurling myself at the invisible barrier, feeling the pain
increase as my heart pounded. Bruising my arms and shoulders, scraping
my knees when I fell, blood dripping in coppery rivulets from my
mouth--I must have bitten my lip or tongue somewhere along the way.

As I gathered up my strength for one final assault, I heard that same
high-pitched whistling that had awakened me in the morning. But this
time, the sound of someone talking quietly was mixed in with the
maddening hum. It sounded like my own voice, but the whistling drone
behind it nearly drowned out the words.

"Say, if anything is troubling you, talk to me about it...I want to be
your friend. And someday, with me..."

"Someday, with you?" The voice that replied might have been
Himemiya's--my head was spinning too badly to concentrate.

"Himemiya...I'm...right here...." I wheezed as pain screamed in my
chest, driving the breath out of my lungs. Through blurry eyes, I
could see her less than a hundred yards away from me, walking away
from Ohtori--yet I knew she'd never hear me, not if I shouted her name
as loudly as I could. I didn't feel my knees wobble and my legs give
way as I collapsed onto the pavement.

I don't know how long I knelt there, crumpled on the ground like a
discarded marionette. My mind whirled, wild and disjointed thoughts
careening around inside my head. I screamed, sobbed, cursed, threw
things, howled in frustration and anger--but only inside my head. My
body wouldn't move.

"Are you going to stay like that forever?"

The male voice sounded slightly amused, although the levity didn't
register in my brain for several seconds. I lifted my head a fraction,
just enough to stare into a pair of dark blue eyes.

"Are you going to stay like that forever?" the voice repeated. I gazed
without emotion at the tall man who stood next to me. I should have
recognized him instantly--after all, no one else I knew had hair that
color, with that unruly forelock--but for some reason I couldn't put
face and hair and voice together very quickly.

"Ruka-sempai?" I ventured cautiously.

He nodded.

"I thought you were dead." The first coherent sentence I could make,
and it had to be that one.

Ruka seemed to take no notice, however. "It is a pleasure to see you
again, oujisama," he said with a small smile.

I flinched. "Don't!" I snarled, clenching my hands into fists. "Don't
call me that...don't mock me."

Ruka raised an eyebrow. "You can't tell me that you've given up
already, oujisama."

"I'm not a prince!" I shouted. The effort of raising my voice made the
pain return, and I pressed a hand against my heart in a feeble attempt
to relieve the agony. "It was just pretend," I said weakly, "just a
lie I told myself to make believe that I was someone special."

"For a lie, it certainly was effective," Ruka replied, extending a thin
hand in an offer to help me to my feet.

I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reply, but I couldn't
ignore the gesture. I took his slim, cold hand, and he pulled me to my
feet without much exertion on his part.

"You can't give up now. We're counting on you." he said.

"We?" I looked around at the deserted campus, then back at him.
"There's no one else here."

Ruka's mouth twitched.

"I enjoyed watching your last duel. There was true desperation there,
something I hadn't seen in any Duellist since Saionji's response to
your victory. Both fighting to regain or retain their tenuous hold on
reality."

I didn't answer him. A sickening feeling had begun to grow in the pit
of my stomach, making my insides churn nauseatingly.

"Despite what you may think, Saionji wasn't...sorry, I should say
*isn't*, an incompetent," Ruka continued placidly. "One doesn't end up
as captain of the kendo club for nothing. But in terms of fighting
styles, Touga could--and, as I'm sure you noticed, *did*--beat him
quite easily. What Miki lacks in experience and strength, he makes up
for in stamina and skill. And Juri...." Ruka trailed off, lost in
thought. After a moment, he shook his head abruptly, as if to clear
his mind. "Juri could defeat him. No question."

While Ruka was speaking, I felt a change in the air. The campus
seemed to shiver, and the familiar outlines of buildings wavered and
melted together. I rubbed my eyes and blinked several times, trying
to clear my vision. When everything finally returned to normal, I
gasped.

A large crowd of people stood on the formerly deserted campus lawn,
gathered behind Ruka. They wore various outfits, none of which I could
clearly distinguish. In fact, I couldn't even see their faces
properly--their features shifted and changed, blurred together like a
wet watercolor.

Ruka shook his head slowly. "You certainly weren't the first person to
be Victor. You won the Rose Bride from Saionji. Who do you imagine he
won her from?"

/Former captain of the fencing team./ "You, of course." While the
thought would have never entered my mind at any other time, the logic
was inescapable.

"Isn't it amazing how important the promise of revolution can be to
someone? And the fact that one's opponent is half-dead at the time is
possibly the best part." He shook his head at his self-depreciating
humor, then continued. "All of us failed, oujisama. All of us, former
Victors of the Duel, or whatever the Chosen One was called at the time.
We failed to Revolutionize the world, and as punishment, we are trapped
here."

"All of you?" I exclaimed.

"Ah, but surely you must have wondered about the concept before. I
doubt if anyone could be that grossly insensitive or that hideously
naive to not wonder," said an unfamiliar voice.

A hush fell over the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash
of pink, a shade lighter than the color of my own hair. The crowd
parted in respectful silence as a young man walked toward me. One look
at his face, with its arrogant smile and far-away eyes, was enough for
me to remember a part of my life so inexplicably forgotten.

My world tilted nauseatingly upon its axis, and the ground seemed to
fall away beneath me as I said his name. "Mikage Souji."

"Not exactly right, but it will do for now," he replied, inclining his
head gracefully in my direction. Without turning his head, he
addressed Ruka. "You have told her what she must do?"

"Not yet," Ruka answered, nodding respectfully. The change in his
manner was dramatic--the confident fencing captain, bowing to *Mikage*,
of all people!

"Then I will." Mikage delicately cleared his throat. "You have saved
one person, oujisama. Are you prepared to save more?"

"Save?" I repeated dumbly. "From what? And how?"

"Is the what so important? Princes usually do not stop to ask such
pointless questions," Mikage said delicately. "And as for the how...."
He mimicked the removal of a sword from a sheath.

I tried to speak, but only succeeded in making a rusty croak.

Mikage lowered his hands, never taking his eyes away from mine. "When
I see you now, it fascinates me to remember what you said to me at our
last meeting but one. What was it you said...." His voice suddenly
altered, changing to a slightly husky version of my own. "'I'll beat
you to a pulp and prove that I'm different from you!'" He cleared his
throat a second time, and his voice returned to normal. "Yes, that
was it."

A sharp stab of pain darkened my senses momentarily.

Mikage smiled--not a nice smile, I thought. "I think you also called
me a 'string-pulling bastard', if memory serves me right. Then again,
memories can be so *malleable*, can't they?" He moved closer to me;
his intense eyes with their fanatical gleam boring their way into my
mind. "You should know, oujisama."

I pointedly ignored his last words. "I remember fighting you. I also
remember that I won," I said, my voice low and calm. "And after that
you weren't there anymore. And until a minute ago, I'd all but
forgotten you."

Mikage tilted his head slightly. "You've been subjected to the same
treatment as I. 'Graduated' from these illustrious halls of learning.
Vanished, gone without a trace. No one clearly remembers the dashing
Tenjou Utena, just as no one remembers the charismatic Mikage Souji, or
the brilliant professor named Nemuro. But like myself, like all of us,
you are still here. And you cannot leave. No one can--at least,
not without *his* permission."

I found my voice at last. "So you want me to free you, all of you,
from this place. Why should I?"

Mikage sighed quietly. "Because of who you are, oujisama."

All of my anger came surging back. "WHY?!" I exploded. "Why should I
help *you*, or Ruka...or any of you who used Himemiya for your own
purposes, never thinking about her as anything more than a tool to get
what you wanted. So you failed, and I succeeded, and now you want me
to help you. Well, Mikage, or whoever you are, you can forget it.
Because I have no intention of assisting someone who once manipulated
my life, trying to kill Himemiya, trying to turn those I care for
against me."

"If you don't intend to listen to reason--"

"Reason?" I said witheringly. "Reason? You're the last person I would
expect to hear talking about *reason*. You're stark raving mad, for
lack of a better word."

"I thought you would have more sense than this, Tokiko," Mikage
replied, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

"I imagine that seeing my best friend turned into a soulless doll has
something to do with my opinion of....what did you just call me?" I
said, startled out of my diatribe.

Before my eyes, the arrogant sneer quickly melted from his face. He
blinked several times, shaking his head slightly, as if to clear his
thoughts. He seemed to age immeasurably as I watched, his body
slumping, as he looked around with bewildered and almost paranoid eyes.

"Even when he has no further use for me, he continues to torment me,"
he mumbled. He lifted his head slightly and stared at me, his pale
face haunted and haggard. "You have every reason to loathe me,
oujisama. I understand that. I have no right to ask you for anything.
I accept that. But we..." and with that he waved his hand behind him,
indicating Ruka and the hazy crowd--who had remained silent all this
time--"...we need you."

"To kill him," I said quietly but forcefully. "That's what you want me
to do, am I right?"

"The Prince will do the right thing," Mikage replied blandly, without
emotion.

"The 'right thing' meaning that you'd prefer him dead."

Ruka stepped forward, speaking for the first time since Mikage had
taken control of the conversation. "If nothing else will free us, then
we would accept the fact that you had no other options."

His words sounded tinny, rehearsed many times before. Something deep
inside me told me to overlook that warning note, brush it aside for
now.

I folded my arms across my chest, wincing only slightly when the
muscles in my back stretched and pulled the edges of the healing wound
apart. "What will happen to you, then?" I asked.

A soft noise made me turn my head to look at Mikage again. An almost
beatific smile had erased the pain from his tired face. "Release, I
pray. A chance to be reunited with...well, the name is of no
importance. Or perhaps oblivion...it doesn't really matter. But I
will graduate, of my own free will, and be at peace. And so will
everyone else. You also, I assume."

I turned my gaze to Ruka, the unspoken question plain in my eyes.

He nodded once. "You performed my task for me, even if you didn't
realize what you had done. Cut that damned golden albatross from her
neck. I was certain that I was free from the academy--I died, I
imagine, with the proverbial smile on my lips. And yet I found myself
here."

I returned his nod. "Because you had failed, and had allowed someone
else to win your battles for you."

"Precisely."

"So therefore, if I set all of you free, as I did with Himemiya, then
I'll be allowed to leave?"

"That is the likely outcome."

My mouth settled into a line of grim determination. "Then I'll do it."

I frowned slightly at the pure relief that crossed Ruka's face. "But
I'm not doing it for you--understand that right now. I'm doing for the
all the people that cannot help you be free, that in some small way act
as a part of your chains. For Juri-sempai, and for...." My mind
whirled and cleared, settling on a name that I had never heard before,
but one I had always known. "....For young Mamiya."

Mikage's sudden sharp intake of breath--a ragged gasp that was closer
to a sob--and a rustling murmur from the shady crowd made me continue
haltingly. "I will be your prince, in their name."

"But what are you going to do?" Ruka asked.

I smiled mirthlessly. "When I reach the top floor and look him
straight in the eyes...that's when I'll know what to do."

With that, my right hand flew to my chest. A sharp, surprisingly
painless pull later, I held my glittering sword in a steady hand. I
turned on my heel and stalked toward the tower that dominated the
academy.

Bringing the Revolution home.

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Gramarye
gramarye@mailandnews.com
http://gramarye.freehosting.net/
April 22, 2001