BY FIRE AND WATER
an Utena fanfic
by the Lemon Goddess

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: "Adolescence of Utena," all characters, places,
creations, ideas, the whole rose-duel thing, etc. are © BePaPas,
Kunihiko Ikuhara, Chiho Saito, and other various people that are not
myself. They are used here only with a fangirl's enthusiasm and no
other license.

WARNING #1: This fic contains an incredible amount of spoilers for the
Utena movie (specifically for Touga). If you don't want to spoil the
crack-filled fun that is "Adolescence Mokushiroku," watch it first and
then come back and read this -- hell, the movie might scare you away
from this.

WARNING #2: There is a lemon scene within this fic. If you don't like
that sort of thing, or if your parents would ground you for looking at
it, you are free to leave right now. Now you know ... and knowing is
half the battle!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Here is big enough for everyone to have their own private universe.
But that isn't why you haven't seen [her] ... is it?" --Albert, WHAT
DREAMS MAY COME



I used to wonder what it meant when people would say "My life flashed
before my eyes." But I saw it ... short as it was ... spinning past
me, around me, living it as I observed it. Utena-chan ... the cabbage
patch ... my father ...

"TOUGA-SAMA!!!"

I heard water ... screaming ... Utena-chan ... or Juri-chan ... no.
It was neither. It was that other girl. The one I barely knew. The
one with the maroon hair, the meek voice ... the one who never spoke
to me, but always stared shyly ...

"TOUGA-SAMAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

* * *

"... a dream?" I looked around myself. I was sitting in a small
booth, a mirror on the wall opposite me. I looked at myself in the
mirror. Yes, I was still there ... small, pale, with the long hair
that my foster "father" had loved so much. A dream. A wonderful
explanation. But it offered little to no explanation as to my new
surroundings.

"What is your name?" The voice was a man's: deep, well-spoken, almost
hypnotic.

"Kiryuu Touga," I whispered. "Age twelve."

"Speak." The booth seemed to move.

"I ..." What was I to say? I frowned thoughtfully. "I was sold a
year ago to a foster father. Mother died the year before that. My
younger sister ... she disappeared to God knows where. Father was
poor. He said I would have a better life in a new home. That I could
have the opportunities he no longer had."

"Deeper," the voice murmured. "Go deeper."

"I don't know if Father knew what the man really was. Maybe he did.
Father was always a bit strange when it came to judging others." I
forced a laugh. "But I never put up a fight. Never, because ... I
wanted those opportunities." I took a breath. The booth felt as
though it was hurtling downwards.

"I wanted to have what Father couldn't have anymore. I wanted ... I
wanted to be a Prince."

"A Prince ..." The voice echoed my words quietly.

"For Juri-chan ... for Utena ... Utena's parents are gone now. I
wanted to be there for her. I wanted to be her Prince. To be-" I
broke off. The sounds of water rushing, Juri-chan screaming,
Utena-chan crying ... that girl ... My head spun as the booth
clattered downward.

"I was Juri's Prince," I whispered meekly. "I saved her. But I had
to ... I had to choose between them. Why? Why can't I be there for
Utena now?" I lifted my head. The truth ... I knew the truth now.
It hit me forcefully in the chest, a hateful sword.

"I died for Juri ... Utena has no one now. But for Utena ... I want
to be there for her. I want to help her ..." My throat tightened, my
voice strained. "I want to be her Prince!"

The booth gave a sickening lurch, and I dropped to my knees. I was
crying. Princes don't cry, I whispered to myself. I won't drown
myself a second time ... I won't ...

"I understand." It was the same voice, behind me now. I looked up
slowly. A dark figure, pale purple hair, a white uniform ... this man
looked a true Prince. But his eyes ...

"I suppose you have no choice but to revolutionize the world."

I rose to my feet slowly. He led me through the open doors of the
elevator into a dark room. I followed, almost blindly. What
difference did it make now?

The man turned and faced me again, something small and silver in one
hand. "The way before you has been prepared."

* * * * * * * *

Utena-chan had always had high ideals. A mind filled with fairy
tales, princes on white horses, romantic futures, happily-ever-afters.
I suppose that's where my ideals came from, in the end. We would sit
by the lake, she would read from her little pocket-book of fairy tales
to me.

"Do you think Princes really exist?"

I would shrug. "They're stories, Utena. Who knows if any of that is
true?"

"Oh, Touga." Utena would frown bitterly. "That's the problem with
you ... always tossing aside what you can't see as not being real."

I suppose she was right, after all. Maybe I believed in fairy tales
before that. Maybe, once upon a time, I used to fight invisible
monsters with my toy sword. But how can you believe in Princes ...
how, when you can't defend yourself from the things you most fear?
When you're left alone, bruised, embarrassed, crying, in the cabbage
patch ...

I was in a church now. It was raining outside, thundering, the wind
blowing enough to make the lights flicker ominously. A small figure
was huddled in the front of the church, crying. Utena-chan ...

"You want to talk to her, don't you?" The dark figure loomed over me.
I looked up at him cautiously, as though he were a gorgon, as though
any sort of monster could do harm to a ghost.

I glared at the figure. "You took me away from her," I snapped.
"Just when I ..."

"Just when what?" His voice was deep and calm. "Just when you knew
what you could give her? Just when you knew what it was to be a
Prince? When you knew they ... WE ... truly existed?"

"I want another chance." My voice was a whisper. "I want to be there
for her. I want to be her Prince." I turned my eyes away from the
weeping figure. "Please. Give me another chance."

A slow smile spread across the man's face. "That's quite a tall
order, boy. A second chance for one already dead?" He put his hand
on my head, twining his long fingers through my hair. I shuddered;
there was something odd and cold about his touch ... cold, yet
stangely sensual. I steeled myself angrily against the feeling.

"Very well." He snatched his hand away. "I ask only one thing in
return."

"Anything." I didn't hesitate. For this ... for a chance to be with
Utena-chan ... no price was too great.

He handed me the ring. "This is your key. Your passport. It's a
sort of game. And you'll be the first player." He stepped aside; a
small, slight, wide-eyed girl, a darker-haired and far lovelier
version of himself, stepped forward silently.

"The prize ... a Bride. But the true Prince may choose any Bride he
wishes when he has won." He put his arm around the girl's waist and
kissed her softly on top of her head. "She has the power to make
anyone a Prince ... to lead her Prince to the castle where eternity
dwells. Within that castle lies anything you could dream of ...
nobility, wealth ..." His eyes moved to the weeping figure. "An
eternity with Tenjou Utena.

"Eternity ..." The word was intoxicating. I stared at the girl with
the wide eyes and lithe body, the dark hair cascading down her back in
graceful waves. Slowly, I lifted the ring, engraved with a small
rose. The Rose Signet.

"Play my game, Kiryuu Touga ... and if you win, as you very well may,
anything and everything you desire will become yours."

I turned away for a moment to look once more at Utena. "Don't worry,"
I whispered. "I'll be here. I'll come back for you ... and then ...
we can stay together. You won't be alone anymore." The doll-like
girl cast a slow glance at Utena, then back at myself.

The ring slid easily onto my left ring finger. "I accept."

* * * * * * * *

There is no past or future to a ghost. There is only the now, the
here, with all times and all events running together, each moment in
the universe merely a step in a different direction. Utena-chan, her
misery, her childhood, slipped through my fingers like water, passing
me by as though it had never existed.

Holding a real sword in my hand was new to me. It had a balance to be
learned, an almost lethal chill in the hilt. I practiced alone, with
Akio -- for such, I learned, was the Prince's name. His young sister
would watch us, would cling to her brother when I practiced my stance
alone.

Despite my separation from Utena-chan, my love for her still burned
within me. But even so, I often found my eyes wandering to the young
girl. Himemiya Anthy, Akio told me, was her name. Until then, I knew
her only as a prize to be won. She was charming in her own way,
attractive, but with a strange underlying level to her ... beautiful
in the way a fire is beautiful. As my skills progressed, I found
myself more and more intrigued by her.

"What is she?" I asked Akio prior to sparring. "How can she offer
anyone eternity?"

"She gave it to me," Akio replied, glancing over his shoulder. She
was cowed, shadowed, in a corner. "Once. And like the witch she is,
she stole it away again. Whoever can win her, owns her. Every part
of her." I stared into the pools of green that were Anthy's eyes,
and I knew what he meant. I felt my mind being torn ...

"Would you fight me for her, Kiryuu?"

I stared at Akio for a long time. Up at him, for in my mind and soul,
I remained the child I was when I had died. Our past few duels had
fallen decidedly in my favour. Even Akio admitted I was becoming one
of his best by far. I nodded slowly, and Anthy, as though programmed
to respond, stepped between us, holding two roses. She pinned one to
the breast pocket of my shirt, one to that of her brother's.

"If the rose is knocked off," she said quietly to me, "you lose." She
stepped aside in silence, her hands folded. Something about her seemed
older, more mature and graceful. But there didn't seem to be any true
change in her that I could observe. Not yet.

I raised my sword timidly. Akio had a glint in his eye, almost
fearful, that hinted he was no longer playing at these duels. Slowly,
I assumed fencing stance.

* * * * * * * *

The petals seemed to fly away on a wind of their own.

"Well done," Akio said quietly, lowering his sword. I felt a pair of
arms wrap around me. It was Anthy, her devotion to her brother
seemingly transferred to me the instant I had destroyed his rose. I
stared at her, awestruck.

"But don't think," her brother went on, "that you will go
unchallenged. There are other Duellists that wish to take your place.
You'll meet them soon enough."

I think I nodded; I was so stunned, lost in the victory, lost in the
sheer excitement of it all. I HAD WON. The means were there. Now I
needed only the end.

I turned back to face Akio once again, but now I wasn't looking up at
him. Our eyes were nearly level with each other's. As though several
years had passed in an instant, which they may have done without my
knowledge, I stood by him as an equal, an adult. Himemiya was next to
me, the spark of maturity I had seen only moments ago now having
spread, showing herself to me as a young lady. Her dress was white, a
modern fairy tale's bridal gown, trimmed with red and gold, a tiara
nestled in her cascade of purple hair.

She was my bride. My Rose Bride.

Akio vanished, a glimmer in the air. Only Himemiya and I remained,
alone together in a marble-white nothingness. She pressed her cheek
against my chest, the petals of my rose brushing against her mocha
skin. She was intoxicating ... her mere presence was addictive. In
the back of my mind was Utena-chan ... I fancied I could see her, her
long pink hair now cut short, her bearing regal, almost masculine ...
but she was still lovely. That could never change.

"Touga-sama ..." The voice was faint, coming from the scented rose,
from Himemiya's emotionless face. She looked up at me, a painted doll.
My doll.

I angrily brushed the thoughts away. No ... no, this girl ... this
CREATURE was not my goal. I wanted Utena, only Utena. The Bride
would bring me back to her. But in spite of myself, in spite of my
thoughts of Utena, Himemiya pulled at me subconsciously ... submissive
and meek, but still bewitching.

My mind seemed to go numb, my hands act of their own accord, as I
lifted her chin and pressed my lips gently against hers. She
responded in a practiced manner, parting her lips, her soft tongue
searching for mine as the kiss mingled between us. Her arms, slim and
gentle, wrapped around my neck, fingers twining through my hair in a
familiar fashion ... Akio, her brother ... I pushed that away. It was
only the Bride, the girl, the prize, that existed with me now.

She pulled away carefully, a butterfly removing itself from a spider's
web. One dark hand ran down the front of her vest, undoing the buttons
as easily as if she were undressing for sleep. It fell away from her
body; the full skirt, the superfluous buttoned cuffs, all but her gold
tiara, followed in kind, unbidden by any hand, as though they fell at
her wish ... or, perhaps, mine.

She stood naked, unashamed, before me, her eyes still blank pools of
emerald green. I approached her quietly, as though she were a deer
that might start and run. But she stood still, her hands clasped
delicately in front of her. She was beautiful, gentle, and I felt my
hands, my lips, wishing to explore every facet of her body and soul.

I kissed her again, my fingers tracing the delicate lines of her back,
and she yielded once again, the only sound between us being her soft
breathing growing slightly deeper. I ran my hands over her shoulders,
her waist, her buttocks, feeling every curve, observing and absorbing
her like a glorious work of art. My hands travelled to her breasts,
soft with dark nipples. I kissed them, feeling her head tilt back
slightly without needing to see it.

Silence, but for the Bride's pleasured sighs, filled the void. I
moved with her like a sleepwalker, lost in her intoxicating presence,
in the light and comfort she seemed to exude. Her back was pressed
against my chest as one hand cupped a breast and the other began a
gentle search between her legs. Her gasp was like a child's cry, soft
and high in her throat. I kissed her hair, her neck, as I continued
to gently work my fingers over her sex, and ventured one finger inside
of her. She responded almost animalistically, arching against me,
physically pleading for me to continue, as though unable to speak.

I continued to massage her, my other hand squeezing gently at her
breast, until I felt a shiver run through her and heard a ragged gasp.
She leaned against me weakly, her bare breasts against my chest, her
trembling hands unbuttoning my uniform jacket.

We were swept back into the nearly-unconscious reverie as she slowly
pushed my clothes away from my body, leaving me naked and prone as
herself, her hands and lips responding to me however I pleased, without
a word from me. She was practiced, but there was a coldness, a
detachment, that occurred to me only after we had parted.

I carefully pushed myself into her, as deeply as I could, until the two
of us were pressed close against each other. We entwined like a pair
of trees, our actions losing any intelligent thought, our sighs and
moans of pleasure strained and echoed in the whiteness surrounding us.
My mind wheeled as I felt myself climax, clinging to the Bride as
though I might fall away into nothingness without her.

* * * * * * * *

I would see her, standing nearby, wherever I was. Whenever I was. But
there were no looks of love, no questions. Just the same emotionless
face, as though our joining had been a chore, a job she did
unquestioningly. I couldn't bear it.

As Akio's world built up around us, with its moving stairways and
unsupported towers, I felt myself begin to loathe the sight of
Himemiya. If I spoke to her, her response was affectionate ... but a
practiced affection, lines from a play she had memorized long ago.

The observatory was empty but for the two of us. I saw other Duellists
milling about below ... perhaps two or three. Ants. It seemed that
new people found their way into Akio's beautiful trap every day. Only
a handful spoke to Akio himself, only a handful received the silver
ring.

"What will you do," I asked quietly, "if someone else wins you from
me?"

A soft laugh. "Oh, Touga-sama ... no one has challenged you yet. And
if they did, how could they win?"

"We're all fallible, Himemiya."

Her soft arms encircled me; her voice held the practiced affection of
before. "That doesn't matter right now. As long as-"

I lost my mind for the slightest moment ... when it returned,
Himemiya sat wounded on the floor, a hand pressed against her cheek.
My hand was raised. I stared at it in disbelief. Why ...

"Touga-sama ..."

Those eyes stared up at me again, the emptiness threatening to swallow
me. And I knew. I lowered my hand. How could I ... with that
creature, that emotionless girl, that doe-eyed succubus? I stared at
her, unable to sympathize with her pain.

"What have you done to me?"

Himemiya's eyes shimmered with tears. Real tears. Perhaps the first
she had ever shed.

"You're pulling me away from her," I whispered. "I ... I never wanted
you. I only want her back. I want Utena back."

"Utena ..."

I turned away, looking at her only peripherally. "If this is what your
eternity is ... I don't want it. I'd sooner have half a moment alone
with her. Unless you can bring her back to me ..."

Her hand dropped to her lap, and she looked up at me coldly. I was
shocked to see emotion behind her eyes, though what it was was unclear.
A muddle of confusion, perhaps, followed by a simple statement.

"Then you'll lose your next duel."

I turned toward her again, lowering my head. "You are not mine to
keep. You're not what I need, Himemiya."

Her eyes remained locked with mine as she stood, adjusting the pleats
of her teal uniform skirt to fall evenly. She was barefoot, but the
domed observatory echoed with her footsteps as she left.

I stared after her, not immediately noticing another silhouette in the
doorway. It was obviously female, a little shorter than Himemiya, with
a bearing that betrayed an odd strength.

"... Utena?"

The figure stepped forward into a beam of light. The hair was a rich
maroon, in shallow waves that ended at her slim chin. Her uniform was
accented with frills and lace. It seemed to suit her, in a strange
way.

"Kiryuu Touga ..."

I continued to stare. In the back of my mind came the screaming from
the river ... the day I saved Juri-chan. The voice that was neither
Juri's nor Utena's. The maroon-haired girl. The one who only looked
at me shyly. She was looking at me again now, just the same.

"Touga-sama, are you a part of this world now, too?"

Her name was unknown to me, always had been, but I spoke it now as
though she had been by my side forever.

"Takatsuki Shiori ..."



[TO BE CONTINUED]