A Shoujo Kakumei Utena fanfic.
Written by Juri-chan (aka cigam - cigam@cigamerisedi.com)
Disclaimer : Characters & story - BePapas and Saito-sama. Lyrics - Ani DiFranco.
Summary : Juri and Miki confront the ones they're searching for and find comfort in friendship to help get them through these times.
Author's Note : I wanna take a chance to thank the few, wonderful people who reviewed me so quickly and gave me so much encouragement.
drama-nerd016 - Thanks for your advice! But I wrote those first four chapters years ago so I wanted a review of it all before I continued - to see if I should continue. Thanks to you and others I see I should. :)
Cian - I'm glad you approve of my character choices and such. It's great to hear an Utena fan agreeing with my ideas!
kino amiko kun - Your review certainly meant the most to me because you flatter me greatly, too greatly! I don't deserve it. :) But thank you nonetheless and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
Now, on with the show! I dedicate this chapter to my best friend Reika for all her support. It was thanks to her that I even picked this story back up again. I've felt down about my creative endeavors lately and her recent, well deserved success in writing has gotten me inspired to try again. I need to finish this story and get it out of my head. It's been sitting there for years, waiting patiently - a little dried rose. Let's hope I can do it justice after so long.
*pops in an Ani cd*
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Two Little Girls
Part IV
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If I thought Christmas felt alienating, New Year's was like being the only one not invited to a party the world was throwing. Couples lined the streets, melded together like one being - fingers intertwined, laughter connected, bodies gravitating toward each other. I obviously couldn't have been the only single white female left in the city, but it seemed that way to my jaded eyes. Thank god for Miki, my silent companion. The boy was quiet as we headed out of the apartment towards downtown. We had decided to avoid the city traffic by walking, letting the cold evening air sting our faces and force color into our pale cheeks. Thank god he stayed close to me. I could see his head out of the corner of my eye at all times; inches below me, always next to me.
"This is my first new year."
I knew the words had many implications as soon as they slipped from his lips. His cold, chapped lips that he rubbed together self-consciously. It struck me for the first time that it had taken him four years longer to leave Ootori than me. Four years that I had spent traveling. Four years I had spent independent. Four years of my life that were nothing compared to the nine months I'd had with Shiori.
"I've been gone almost a month." he stated clearly, almost proudly. Then his voice trailed with his words, "...three weeks... six days... two hours... twenty-eight minutes... thirty-one seconds..."
I glanced to the side and noticed the stopwatch in his hand for the first time. He seemed to be staring into it, beyond it. Beyond everything in the way that only his gaze could. I felt like I should say something. As if this was my cue to explain things to him like a mentor would. To comfort him and encourage him, but what could I say? The glare of the streetlamps off of the watch face mocked me as it ticked time away like it always had. Cataloguing life in a place where it really happened. It seemed unnecessary, it seemed like a crutch. I wanted him to throw it away. But instead he slipped it back in his pocket, as if he'd never checked it. I don't think he meant to in front of me. I don't think he even realized that he had. That's the thing about bad habits.
Many trite phraes went through my mind. Cheap words concerning how I enjoyed his company this week and how glad I was he had escaped, but had he really escaped yet? Had any of us? Could we? Instead of saying anything worth saying, I simply said the obvious.
"We're here."
We slipped into a back alley that posed as an entrance the dark club that was swarming with drunk patrons. Young flesh grinding on the dance floor and squeezing against each other to get their next drink, another fix, from the long bar across the back of the building. Miki looked out of place, with his young pure face, but he was not questioned by the bouncer as he entered. His slim build, melted into dark pants and a simple white dress shirt - buttoned but untucked - beneath a tight blue sweater. He took his slightly oversized blazer along with my cardigan and left them at a coat room before joining me by the bar. We were an oddly matched pair, I knew. Even in low heels I stood so much taller than him, this child-like man at my side. He surprised me by brushing his hand across my lower back as he leaned in to ask if I wanted anything to drink. It reminded me of another time, another place.
"Here we are alone together, but you're just not sexy.." I murmured playfully. Miki looked rather taken aback as his cheeks reddened before he grinned lightly at the joke. But we were interrupted as the lights turned painfully bright on the main stage.
"Shiori.." I stammered, stepping away from the bar as she slipped onto the stage. She looked sick, quite frankly. Skinny and pale, and yet so alluring. I only caught a glimpse of her, skin and lace, before I heard Miki gasp and saw Kozue behind her. Too close to her, whispering in her ear, causing a soft laugh that was lost in the murmur of the crowd, thus silent once it reached me. They were not to perform yet, though. The light had been for a smug looking young MC at the cent of the stage who grabbed the mic and craddled it like dance partner while he yelled out into the crowd, "Who's ready for action?!"
The club errupted with cheers, arms reaching for a sky blocked out by catwalks and gawdy lights above them. The man introduced a short act as the lights dimmed. Shadows played across the two female beat poets that appeared, obscuring their faces as they crept across the stage to start their mad riddle act. One had braided pigtails and the other had short curly hair with a bow at the top. They were slim, but I couldn't quite make out their outfits. Skirts and blouses perhaps - almost familiar. But before I could question it, they started.
"The year of the GOAT!" cried the first girl, her face hidden as the second crawled up next to her with two horns curled around her head. She bleeted out a low "Baaa..." before the first turned around in one whirl and was suddenly wearing an old crone's costume. She bent down at an awkward, aged angle, stretching her hands out to the goat-girl who sat on her haunches and mused for the crowd, "I know an old lady who swallowed a goat."
She seemed to then suddenly gasp at the idea, continuing, "Popped open her throat, and swallowed a goat!" The first girl, in crone guise, open her mouth wide, leaping after the goat who barely jumped away, but when she turned around she had on floppy ears and a wagging tail. "She swallowed the goat to catch the dog," Another leap and a turn, doning cat ears and whiskers, "she swallowed the dog to catch the cat," A bound before two small wings were on her back and a beak above her mouth, "she swallowed the cat to catch the bird," The crone snatched for the bird-girl, who fluttered the wings comically until she dropped to a heap on the floor, then uncostumed and acting as if she couldn't be seen she raised a small stick with a plastic spider attached to the end and waved it front of the first girl, "she swallowed the bird to catch the spider - that wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her." The spider was bounced along the girls head, who made a wild grab for it while she did a ridiculous jig across the stage, as if possessed. Then made to look like she ate it, string dangling empty as a light buzzing sound played over the line of tall speakers by the stage and around the sides of the dance floor, "She swallowed the spider to catch the fly." A curved leap was made by the first girl, very un-crone-like in its pirouette style while her baggy clothes flapped around her, and she landed with a loud gulp as the buzzing ceased and her rags settled.
"I don't know why she swallowed the fly." said girl one, with an honest curiosity in her voice.
"Perhaps she'll die." I echoed quietly with the performers as they finished their rhyme for a speechless audience.
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I don't like your girlfriend, yeah I don't like her
Never seen one of your lovers do you so much harm
I loved you first and you know I would prefer
If she didn't empty her syringes into your arm
Verse IV : Green Leaves
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The announcer laughed apologetically to the crowd as the nameless performers bounded off the stage, hobbling under their collection of costumes and props. No one seemed to know what to make of the duo. They couldn't even boo them, they were too dumb-founded. The act had been beyond comprehension and there was something oddly comforting about that for me. Perhaps even for Miki, who looked lost in memories beside me. But everyone else began coming to their senses, starting up a low rumble for the next act to begin.
"Well! After that ..interesting.. display, I'm sure you're all ready for the ladies of the evening!" The rumble turned into a dull roar as Miki and I made our way towards the front left of the stage with a bit of anxiety in our steps. "Kaoru Kozue and Takatsuki Shiori have deigned to grace our stage tonight with their lovely.. talented.. selves." His voice got deeper and muskier as he went, the mic stand crushed against his body as he winked at the crowd. I began to notice how dirty the club looked to me, how rough the crowd seemed. "You're in for quite a show, folks - Kuroi Chouchou!!"
Our eyes were trained to the side of the stage. Miki and I could pick out their shadows before they even stepped into the lights. They looked as if they were accustomed to the glare - but how long could they have even been performing? Maybe a few weeks? Shiori raised a trained hand to block a bit of the bright red light pouring over her form and looked out into the crowd. Her hair was grazing her shoulders, flat and stringy. She wore a tight pale purple peasant blouse, with short puffed sleeves. Her skirt was grey and ruffled with lace beanth, fanning out short across her thighs as white thigh-highs melted down her thin legs into black mary janes. Taking a seat on a stool the MC had placed in front of the mic, she picked up a small guitar. I didn't even know she played.
Shiori flicked the crowd a rose-red grin before bowing her head and beginning to pluck soft, slow chords along the strings. She rocked with the sound, losing herself already. I thought she looked bleached out under the abuse of the lights - like an over exposed photo. It was several moments before I even noticed the piano playing in the background. Forcing my eyes off of Shiori I saw Kozue sitting rigidly behind a keyboard at her partners' side. I imagined Miki in her place for only a moment and wondered if he still played. Her fingers moved nimbly over the keys in a low sticato and I could easily tell who got the talent in the family. Perhaps, as Miki often insisted, it took both of them to be really good. She certainly had style, but it was soulless.
I was pulled from my thoughts however as she set the keyboard to loop the bit she had just played so that she could rise from her bench and approach the guitarist. Kozue was wearing a navy blue corsett, tied tightly across her middle but undone at the top to show a bit of clevage through the thread that tied it together. She had fingerless fishnet gloves up to her forearms and a jet black straight, short skirt hanging from her bony hips. Her pale legs were bare down to the tall boots that stepped soundlessly behind Shiori, pulling the guitar from her hands to sit back in its stand.
"Little Miss Muffet..." she began. I'd never known the girl well or really ever heard her talk, but I knew her voice must be deeper than usual from the look of confusion Miki was giving her. The look I gave her was much different, though. It was one of malice, jealousy, anger - as those nimble fingers reached forward to touch Shiori, my Shiori. "Set on her tuffet.." her hands slipped around from behind, one curling up between the seated girls' breasts - teasing the lip of the peasant blouse with a pinky. "Eating her curds and weigh.." Kozue leaned forward, nibbling the ear of my ex-lover. Licking the lobe with a familiarity that made me cold.
"Then along came a spider.." Kozue made Shiori gasp into the microphone, her head falling back against the standing girl's shoudler as her hand curled grotesquetly into an arachnid-like shape and squeezed the brunette's upper thigh. "Who crawled up inside her," the hand traveled further, parting Shiori's legs for the crowd as it disappeared into the folds of her ruffled skirt, moving deeper as her voice gained an edge from her moans, "And /i Miss Muffet to play." Her first hand openly gripped and massaged Shiori's right breast as her breathing became ragged and shallow.
"What's with all the friggin' nursery rhymes?" I heard a gruff man near me ask another. The second only shrugged with a laugh and said, "Who cares, man? They're practically fucking!"
"Play... play... play..." Shiori began her mantra on the stage in a raspy voice stuck somewhere in her throat. I knew that voice and I suddenly missed that voice with a vengence. It was the voice she had when I touched her, drove her, took her, made her mine. The voice that once cried out my name in the dark and begged for more. I felt unbelievably dirty hearing it echoing through a sound system, surrounded by a crowd of people - hearing it created by someone else's attentions.
"This is sick." I heard Miki say before I could even form the thought. "Why would she.. what is she about??" he demaded to himself and to no one at all. I felt sorry for him in that moment, more sorry than I was for myself. This was his sister. His flesh and blood, ravaging a girl on stage for all the world to see. We were both disgusted and ashamed for the four of us. But almost without warning, Kozue retreated and the guitar was back in Shiori's lap as she ripped into it, starting a quick song that the keyboard accompanied with quick bursts of harmony.
"Girls and boys, come out to play," Shiori sang, her face bright with lust. Her peasant blouse hung lower on one side, soft pink flesh almost peeking unabashedly out behind the fabric. "The moon is shining as bright as day!"
"Leave your supper, and leave your sleep," Kozue broke in, standing as she played, bumping her hips from side to side as she went, "And come with your playfellows into the street."
"Come with a whoop, come with a call, come with a good will or not at all," they both cried out shrilly, their heads rolling with the music, their bodies moving off beat, "Up the ladder and down the wall, A halfpenny roll will serve us all." The crowd bounced around us, jumping and swaying to the song that seemed to infect them all like a disease. "You find milk, and I'll find flour," Kozue called across to Shiori, who looked out over and above the crowd hungrily, "And we'll have pudding in half an hour."
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Miki couldn't take it any longer. After that first song he fought through the crowd, slipped from my side, and I could feel the emptiness as soon as his presence was gone. That was the thing about Miki, when he left your side without warning he seemed to take away your stability. Even I could sense that. Maybe that was a bit of what Kozue felt. Without him she must be a tree without a trunk - without a trunk you have no roots. You're just dead limbs. And that's suddenly what I saw. Dead limbs doing a macabre dance on the stage with a lifeless doll. I needed fresh air.
"Miki...Miki!" I called his name as I pushed past people on my way towards the door. The club was suddenly suffocating to me. The people were all faceless and deaf as I asked for passage through them. Finally I reached the alley way and found him panting against the brick wall, sweat on his sweet young face that was pulled into a grimace. The few smokers out there gave us room, turning their backs to us but passing many a curious glance.
"How could they?!" he asked the wind, the world. "That song.. that opening! Do you know what they're alluding to? Milk and flour.. feh.. Kozue must be on drugs. They're on drugs, sempai!" Even now he's formal. I idly wonder if he thinks you'd have to be on drugs to want Shiori. But I know what he means. They both appeared strung out, barely able to focus on their instruments, nevertheless the crowd. Their arms had clear tracks cutting jagged highways of indulgence across their flesh. "They're sick, sempai. We have to help them."
I pondered the comment only a moment before I answered without looking up, "Will they want it?"
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The main band had been on a few minutes by the time Miki and I made our way back into the club so the wings were filled with groupies swooning over the all-male band. I spoke the bouncer who helped us in through a side door and towards a very casual green room. The backstage was an orgy of people. Girls in short skirts, guys in tight pants, managers schmoozing, drunken fans throwing themselves on any one who'd give them a chance to stick their tongues down their throats. I didn't want to see this, I didn't want to associate this to Shiori. Hadn't she been pure once? Hadn't she been simple and young and carefree?
"Onii-san!" We were found first. A bush of spiky blue hair bounded past me to wrap herself around Miki. Her arms enveloped him as she nuzzled her face against his neck, mmmming happily. She was completely out of it. Flustered, Miki detangled himself from his sister, staring at her in disapproving shock.
"Kozue, what are you.. you have to stop this!" his voice was low and hissed out of his mouth, but his eyes were pleading. It was a lost cause, she only laughed and draped a skinny arm over his shoulder, "Oh, Miki, stop what? I'm just having fun." Miki stared at the inside of the arm displayed in front of him and he grabbed for it, pulling it in front of his face, "You think this is fun? This is bad, Kozue.." I could see his eyes determing what could of caused the tracks and how much would be necessary in the short amount of time she'd been out. Then the cold blue flickered over the people around the room "These people are bad."
Kozue laughed flippantly, jerking her arm away, "Miki.." her voice gained a bit of control back as she addressed him by name, "it's absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious." She sneaked her fingers into the scruff of hair behind his neck, bringing him nose to nose with her, "And you, dear brother, and being far from charming." She pecked him on the lips before he could react and turned him to face the room as she announced, "Everyone - this is my brother. He has my good looks, but he hardly has my stellar personality." Everyone laughed, even if they hadn't heard her, they just knew to laugh.
But one laugh I caught in the air, like the song of a bird - albeit a very tired bird. As the people parted, some approaching the twins with interest, I noticed Shiori standing in the doorframe of a dressing room. She looked worse up close than she did from stage. Her hair was so thin and her rather yellow hued skin was tight on her bones. There were dark, permanent circles under her eyes which looked somewhat bloodshot. She was so unhealthy. I wanted to approach her and wrap her up in my arms. Comfort her, heal her, mend her - but my legs wouldn't move. Her eyes caught mine just as her new partner passed by me towards the door, leaving her brother unattended with a group of gossiping girls. Kozue hadn't spoken to me, yet, but I had a feeling she knew I was there. She knew. She knew everything.
As soon as she reached Shiori, Kozue pushed her against the door and took a deep kiss from her. She pulled the peasant blouse all the way below her chest, leaving her top naked and vulnerable. "There.. I like you better like that." Shiori didn't budge, even when one of Kozue's hands slipped to a nipple that the girl openly rolled between her fingers. "I think you like it, too." Shiori shrugged, wordlessly, but forced a smudged smile - her lipstick rubbed to the edges.
I narrowed my eyes distrustfully, I'm sure. This was certainly not the Shiori I knew. Even her faults were not the same. The Shiori she knew could be selfish, pushy, and self-centered - but weak? Weakness was what Shiori loathed. Strength of self is what she strived for. I was not as angered by Kozue fondling Shiori as I was by Shiori taking it all so passively. She was a doll. She was lifeless.
"Mmm.. you took your medicine, good girl.." Kozue praised, rubbing a fresh injection wound on Shiori's inner arm. "Look, now," she motioned towards us, "our Princes have come to rescue us. Isn't that a laugh?"
I was finally moved into action by this, but Miki beat me to her. "Kozue, leave her alone! Don't you see how sick she is?" Miki ripped Kozue from Shiori, pushing the blouse up carefully and kindly, raising light fingers to brush back her dirty hair from her lifeless eyes. "My God.. is she even conscious in there?" Shiori managed to part her broken, dry lips and utter a gutteral, "..play."
I'm not sure what it was - the drugs, the tension, the stress, or a combination - but Kozue snapped within the moment, pushing Miki back violently. "Why don't you just get the fuck out of my life, onii-san? Isn't that what you wanted? Didn't you want me gone? I left and now you hunt me down like a dog. I'm not your bitch, Miki.. I don't need you!" And suddenly she paused before she broke into a vicious laugh, "But you need me! Don't you? Don't you?! HA! Look at you.. you wilt without me, don't you? You wilt without someone to support - someone to be better than." She choked on her laugh, so amused with herself. "You need something shining - so it can shine on YOU!"
She was desperate to hurt him, desperate to prove herself. The entire room was silent as she laughed herself to tears and then Shiori suddenly burst out in an echo. But Miki could only stare, and there was no readable expression on his face. I felt completely lost in all of this. My emotions, my thoughts were completely numb. I felt like I was watching a movie and not my own life. Was this life? It seemed like all the questions I'd ever had were suddenly screaming to be answered and I had no clue where to begin. I was pulled out of my revere by the familiar sound of Shiori throwing up. She was doubled over a trash can by the door, vomiting more than I thought could fit in her malnourished body. Some groupie hurried over to her, holding her sides and looking back at us with naive young eyes that had seen a lot - but not enough to really understand. "You two should just go," she demanded, squeezing Shiori tightly and causing a new wave sickness.
And Miki startled me by complying. He simply walked on command towards the back door. When he passed Kozue her laughter faded into soft hiccups as she watched after him, a little thunder struck by his move. I could only follow. I was overloaded. I felt completely out of control so I followed Logic out into the night, hoping Reason could give me solice and understanding. Even though I knew it would be far too much to ask from him right now. I welcomed the cold air into my nostrils as it washed out the putrid stench still wafting from backstage and I walked a few steps behind my co-captain.
We rounded corners, weaving between mass groups of people, trying to keep as far from Times Square as possible. The people were still faceless to me. I had too many faces in my head already, I didn't need to add more strangers to it. My past was battling with my present, memories super-imposed over each other. Miki was so quiet that he almost reminded me of.. me. I felt I was seeing the real Miki for the first time and it was almost frightening. To see someone for the first time when you thought you'd known for what seemed like forever.
We'd managed to find our way into the edge of Central Park. There were many people there as an outside concert went on at the south side. But he finally seemed spent as he stopped and sat on an unexpected bench.
"Three weeks.. six days.. eight hours.. twenty-four minutes.. thirty seconds.."
I quietly lowered myself next to him on the bench and looked at the digital display as it whipped through time. Unnecessary crutch. After a night like this, I could finally tell him what he needed to hear.
"You're real, Miki-san."
His lashes fluttered over glazed eyes before he let out a short burst of a laugh under his breath, "Of course I am." he said without really meaning it.
"You're real, this is real - you were right."
Now his look changed. The blue of his eyes sharpened to a calculating stare as I heard a faint *beep*. He had stopped the watch, stopped time just for a moment - just for this.
"You knew all along, didn't you? We all probably suspected something was wrong with that school, with our lives. But you knew beyond a doubt."
"I had doubts"
"But you timed it. You timed it all. You created time in a place where time didn't exist. It never moved, it never changed, we never lived. Except in that stopwatch. Except for you."
"It was so long, sempai." he whispered, clenching the small device in his talented grip, "We were there so long. For time not to exist, we took up quite a bit of it." He sighed, leaning back against the bench, letting his fist loosen, "We lived for years without really living at all... and then, it seems, all of life came crowding into one single hour."
"This is not all of life." I stated simply, without hesitation. This couldn't be all there was. After five years, this was still too much like Ootori. Old issues were still here. Somehow there had to be more, there had to be something beyond. Something after.
He grinned to himself several moments before bowing his head in concession, "I suppose you're right."
Even in our seclusion we could hear the sudden uproar of a countdown. I thought it quite fitting as I heard the single digits being yelled into the night sky by the city of New York, but saw no movement on the watch in Miki's hand. "Looks like time goes on without you here."
"I just hope life goes on, too."
"Believe.." I found myself whispering, more to myself than to him. Believe... so that all your dreams come true.
He looked at me as the the clocks of the east coast struck midnight. He stared as the cheers and singing lifted everyone up, raised them all with elation. And he moved in without warning. His kiss was soft and unintrusive, like a feather against the skin. I thought his lips were chapped earlier, but against mine they felt smooth and gentle. Young. Fresh. I wanted them to always stay that way.
When he pulled away I realized I had not closed my eyes at all. So our eyes met immediately and he knew what I'd already known. What we both had always known. Laughing, with faintly pink cheeks, he smiled up at me - his sempai, "I know.. just not sexy."
I chuckled with him, "Happy New Year, Miki-kun."
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Author's Aside : Wow.. this is a totally different style from the other chapters. But I like it a lot and had fun writing it. This chapter's taken a big turn away from the norm. But I think that's good. I mean, it has been several years since I wrote the others, my style had to change. This chapter has been festering in my head for ages so it had a lot to work out. Also, I have a big loyalty to Miki, so I wanted his arch in the story to get everything it deserved. I am /i trying to put him and Juri together, I hope that's obvious. And this is definitely not the end of the story - the rest of it is certainly more Juri/Shiori related. But we had to have this falling out, distanced period. I think the lyrics practically demand it. What else.. ah, I know I do a lot of mixing the series with movie allusions. This is because I'm kind of basing this reality on the fact that the duellists are personas that have lived through all the "revolutions". So don't get confused - just give into the insanity. :) Oh, and all the nursery rhymes? Yeah - more connected to the last verse (o/~Honey, you make about as much sense as a nursery rhyme.o/~) and I couldn't fit it in until this chapter. Also, sorry for the long A-ko and B-ko tirade, I just figured they got fit right there and I love 'em. :D And, yes, I put in the inside joke of 'Baaa...'. It was my old Anti-Shiori site, so I doubt anyone gets it anymore. But that's cool, it's my story, only I have to be amused really. ;) Woo - thanks again to everyone who reviewed, please let me know how you like things now!
Written by Juri-chan (aka cigam - cigam@cigamerisedi.com)
Disclaimer : Characters & story - BePapas and Saito-sama. Lyrics - Ani DiFranco.
Summary : Juri and Miki confront the ones they're searching for and find comfort in friendship to help get them through these times.
Author's Note : I wanna take a chance to thank the few, wonderful people who reviewed me so quickly and gave me so much encouragement.
drama-nerd016 - Thanks for your advice! But I wrote those first four chapters years ago so I wanted a review of it all before I continued - to see if I should continue. Thanks to you and others I see I should. :)
Cian - I'm glad you approve of my character choices and such. It's great to hear an Utena fan agreeing with my ideas!
kino amiko kun - Your review certainly meant the most to me because you flatter me greatly, too greatly! I don't deserve it. :) But thank you nonetheless and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
Now, on with the show! I dedicate this chapter to my best friend Reika for all her support. It was thanks to her that I even picked this story back up again. I've felt down about my creative endeavors lately and her recent, well deserved success in writing has gotten me inspired to try again. I need to finish this story and get it out of my head. It's been sitting there for years, waiting patiently - a little dried rose. Let's hope I can do it justice after so long.
*pops in an Ani cd*
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Two Little Girls
Part IV
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If I thought Christmas felt alienating, New Year's was like being the only one not invited to a party the world was throwing. Couples lined the streets, melded together like one being - fingers intertwined, laughter connected, bodies gravitating toward each other. I obviously couldn't have been the only single white female left in the city, but it seemed that way to my jaded eyes. Thank god for Miki, my silent companion. The boy was quiet as we headed out of the apartment towards downtown. We had decided to avoid the city traffic by walking, letting the cold evening air sting our faces and force color into our pale cheeks. Thank god he stayed close to me. I could see his head out of the corner of my eye at all times; inches below me, always next to me.
"This is my first new year."
I knew the words had many implications as soon as they slipped from his lips. His cold, chapped lips that he rubbed together self-consciously. It struck me for the first time that it had taken him four years longer to leave Ootori than me. Four years that I had spent traveling. Four years I had spent independent. Four years of my life that were nothing compared to the nine months I'd had with Shiori.
"I've been gone almost a month." he stated clearly, almost proudly. Then his voice trailed with his words, "...three weeks... six days... two hours... twenty-eight minutes... thirty-one seconds..."
I glanced to the side and noticed the stopwatch in his hand for the first time. He seemed to be staring into it, beyond it. Beyond everything in the way that only his gaze could. I felt like I should say something. As if this was my cue to explain things to him like a mentor would. To comfort him and encourage him, but what could I say? The glare of the streetlamps off of the watch face mocked me as it ticked time away like it always had. Cataloguing life in a place where it really happened. It seemed unnecessary, it seemed like a crutch. I wanted him to throw it away. But instead he slipped it back in his pocket, as if he'd never checked it. I don't think he meant to in front of me. I don't think he even realized that he had. That's the thing about bad habits.
Many trite phraes went through my mind. Cheap words concerning how I enjoyed his company this week and how glad I was he had escaped, but had he really escaped yet? Had any of us? Could we? Instead of saying anything worth saying, I simply said the obvious.
"We're here."
We slipped into a back alley that posed as an entrance the dark club that was swarming with drunk patrons. Young flesh grinding on the dance floor and squeezing against each other to get their next drink, another fix, from the long bar across the back of the building. Miki looked out of place, with his young pure face, but he was not questioned by the bouncer as he entered. His slim build, melted into dark pants and a simple white dress shirt - buttoned but untucked - beneath a tight blue sweater. He took his slightly oversized blazer along with my cardigan and left them at a coat room before joining me by the bar. We were an oddly matched pair, I knew. Even in low heels I stood so much taller than him, this child-like man at my side. He surprised me by brushing his hand across my lower back as he leaned in to ask if I wanted anything to drink. It reminded me of another time, another place.
"Here we are alone together, but you're just not sexy.." I murmured playfully. Miki looked rather taken aback as his cheeks reddened before he grinned lightly at the joke. But we were interrupted as the lights turned painfully bright on the main stage.
"Shiori.." I stammered, stepping away from the bar as she slipped onto the stage. She looked sick, quite frankly. Skinny and pale, and yet so alluring. I only caught a glimpse of her, skin and lace, before I heard Miki gasp and saw Kozue behind her. Too close to her, whispering in her ear, causing a soft laugh that was lost in the murmur of the crowd, thus silent once it reached me. They were not to perform yet, though. The light had been for a smug looking young MC at the cent of the stage who grabbed the mic and craddled it like dance partner while he yelled out into the crowd, "Who's ready for action?!"
The club errupted with cheers, arms reaching for a sky blocked out by catwalks and gawdy lights above them. The man introduced a short act as the lights dimmed. Shadows played across the two female beat poets that appeared, obscuring their faces as they crept across the stage to start their mad riddle act. One had braided pigtails and the other had short curly hair with a bow at the top. They were slim, but I couldn't quite make out their outfits. Skirts and blouses perhaps - almost familiar. But before I could question it, they started.
"The year of the GOAT!" cried the first girl, her face hidden as the second crawled up next to her with two horns curled around her head. She bleeted out a low "Baaa..." before the first turned around in one whirl and was suddenly wearing an old crone's costume. She bent down at an awkward, aged angle, stretching her hands out to the goat-girl who sat on her haunches and mused for the crowd, "I know an old lady who swallowed a goat."
She seemed to then suddenly gasp at the idea, continuing, "Popped open her throat, and swallowed a goat!" The first girl, in crone guise, open her mouth wide, leaping after the goat who barely jumped away, but when she turned around she had on floppy ears and a wagging tail. "She swallowed the goat to catch the dog," Another leap and a turn, doning cat ears and whiskers, "she swallowed the dog to catch the cat," A bound before two small wings were on her back and a beak above her mouth, "she swallowed the cat to catch the bird," The crone snatched for the bird-girl, who fluttered the wings comically until she dropped to a heap on the floor, then uncostumed and acting as if she couldn't be seen she raised a small stick with a plastic spider attached to the end and waved it front of the first girl, "she swallowed the bird to catch the spider - that wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her." The spider was bounced along the girls head, who made a wild grab for it while she did a ridiculous jig across the stage, as if possessed. Then made to look like she ate it, string dangling empty as a light buzzing sound played over the line of tall speakers by the stage and around the sides of the dance floor, "She swallowed the spider to catch the fly." A curved leap was made by the first girl, very un-crone-like in its pirouette style while her baggy clothes flapped around her, and she landed with a loud gulp as the buzzing ceased and her rags settled.
"I don't know why she swallowed the fly." said girl one, with an honest curiosity in her voice.
"Perhaps she'll die." I echoed quietly with the performers as they finished their rhyme for a speechless audience.
-----
I don't like your girlfriend, yeah I don't like her
Never seen one of your lovers do you so much harm
I loved you first and you know I would prefer
If she didn't empty her syringes into your arm
Verse IV : Green Leaves
-----
The announcer laughed apologetically to the crowd as the nameless performers bounded off the stage, hobbling under their collection of costumes and props. No one seemed to know what to make of the duo. They couldn't even boo them, they were too dumb-founded. The act had been beyond comprehension and there was something oddly comforting about that for me. Perhaps even for Miki, who looked lost in memories beside me. But everyone else began coming to their senses, starting up a low rumble for the next act to begin.
"Well! After that ..interesting.. display, I'm sure you're all ready for the ladies of the evening!" The rumble turned into a dull roar as Miki and I made our way towards the front left of the stage with a bit of anxiety in our steps. "Kaoru Kozue and Takatsuki Shiori have deigned to grace our stage tonight with their lovely.. talented.. selves." His voice got deeper and muskier as he went, the mic stand crushed against his body as he winked at the crowd. I began to notice how dirty the club looked to me, how rough the crowd seemed. "You're in for quite a show, folks - Kuroi Chouchou!!"
Our eyes were trained to the side of the stage. Miki and I could pick out their shadows before they even stepped into the lights. They looked as if they were accustomed to the glare - but how long could they have even been performing? Maybe a few weeks? Shiori raised a trained hand to block a bit of the bright red light pouring over her form and looked out into the crowd. Her hair was grazing her shoulders, flat and stringy. She wore a tight pale purple peasant blouse, with short puffed sleeves. Her skirt was grey and ruffled with lace beanth, fanning out short across her thighs as white thigh-highs melted down her thin legs into black mary janes. Taking a seat on a stool the MC had placed in front of the mic, she picked up a small guitar. I didn't even know she played.
Shiori flicked the crowd a rose-red grin before bowing her head and beginning to pluck soft, slow chords along the strings. She rocked with the sound, losing herself already. I thought she looked bleached out under the abuse of the lights - like an over exposed photo. It was several moments before I even noticed the piano playing in the background. Forcing my eyes off of Shiori I saw Kozue sitting rigidly behind a keyboard at her partners' side. I imagined Miki in her place for only a moment and wondered if he still played. Her fingers moved nimbly over the keys in a low sticato and I could easily tell who got the talent in the family. Perhaps, as Miki often insisted, it took both of them to be really good. She certainly had style, but it was soulless.
I was pulled from my thoughts however as she set the keyboard to loop the bit she had just played so that she could rise from her bench and approach the guitarist. Kozue was wearing a navy blue corsett, tied tightly across her middle but undone at the top to show a bit of clevage through the thread that tied it together. She had fingerless fishnet gloves up to her forearms and a jet black straight, short skirt hanging from her bony hips. Her pale legs were bare down to the tall boots that stepped soundlessly behind Shiori, pulling the guitar from her hands to sit back in its stand.
"Little Miss Muffet..." she began. I'd never known the girl well or really ever heard her talk, but I knew her voice must be deeper than usual from the look of confusion Miki was giving her. The look I gave her was much different, though. It was one of malice, jealousy, anger - as those nimble fingers reached forward to touch Shiori, my Shiori. "Set on her tuffet.." her hands slipped around from behind, one curling up between the seated girls' breasts - teasing the lip of the peasant blouse with a pinky. "Eating her curds and weigh.." Kozue leaned forward, nibbling the ear of my ex-lover. Licking the lobe with a familiarity that made me cold.
"Then along came a spider.." Kozue made Shiori gasp into the microphone, her head falling back against the standing girl's shoudler as her hand curled grotesquetly into an arachnid-like shape and squeezed the brunette's upper thigh. "Who crawled up inside her," the hand traveled further, parting Shiori's legs for the crowd as it disappeared into the folds of her ruffled skirt, moving deeper as her voice gained an edge from her moans, "And /i Miss Muffet to play." Her first hand openly gripped and massaged Shiori's right breast as her breathing became ragged and shallow.
"What's with all the friggin' nursery rhymes?" I heard a gruff man near me ask another. The second only shrugged with a laugh and said, "Who cares, man? They're practically fucking!"
"Play... play... play..." Shiori began her mantra on the stage in a raspy voice stuck somewhere in her throat. I knew that voice and I suddenly missed that voice with a vengence. It was the voice she had when I touched her, drove her, took her, made her mine. The voice that once cried out my name in the dark and begged for more. I felt unbelievably dirty hearing it echoing through a sound system, surrounded by a crowd of people - hearing it created by someone else's attentions.
"This is sick." I heard Miki say before I could even form the thought. "Why would she.. what is she about??" he demaded to himself and to no one at all. I felt sorry for him in that moment, more sorry than I was for myself. This was his sister. His flesh and blood, ravaging a girl on stage for all the world to see. We were both disgusted and ashamed for the four of us. But almost without warning, Kozue retreated and the guitar was back in Shiori's lap as she ripped into it, starting a quick song that the keyboard accompanied with quick bursts of harmony.
"Girls and boys, come out to play," Shiori sang, her face bright with lust. Her peasant blouse hung lower on one side, soft pink flesh almost peeking unabashedly out behind the fabric. "The moon is shining as bright as day!"
"Leave your supper, and leave your sleep," Kozue broke in, standing as she played, bumping her hips from side to side as she went, "And come with your playfellows into the street."
"Come with a whoop, come with a call, come with a good will or not at all," they both cried out shrilly, their heads rolling with the music, their bodies moving off beat, "Up the ladder and down the wall, A halfpenny roll will serve us all." The crowd bounced around us, jumping and swaying to the song that seemed to infect them all like a disease. "You find milk, and I'll find flour," Kozue called across to Shiori, who looked out over and above the crowd hungrily, "And we'll have pudding in half an hour."
-----
Miki couldn't take it any longer. After that first song he fought through the crowd, slipped from my side, and I could feel the emptiness as soon as his presence was gone. That was the thing about Miki, when he left your side without warning he seemed to take away your stability. Even I could sense that. Maybe that was a bit of what Kozue felt. Without him she must be a tree without a trunk - without a trunk you have no roots. You're just dead limbs. And that's suddenly what I saw. Dead limbs doing a macabre dance on the stage with a lifeless doll. I needed fresh air.
"Miki...Miki!" I called his name as I pushed past people on my way towards the door. The club was suddenly suffocating to me. The people were all faceless and deaf as I asked for passage through them. Finally I reached the alley way and found him panting against the brick wall, sweat on his sweet young face that was pulled into a grimace. The few smokers out there gave us room, turning their backs to us but passing many a curious glance.
"How could they?!" he asked the wind, the world. "That song.. that opening! Do you know what they're alluding to? Milk and flour.. feh.. Kozue must be on drugs. They're on drugs, sempai!" Even now he's formal. I idly wonder if he thinks you'd have to be on drugs to want Shiori. But I know what he means. They both appeared strung out, barely able to focus on their instruments, nevertheless the crowd. Their arms had clear tracks cutting jagged highways of indulgence across their flesh. "They're sick, sempai. We have to help them."
I pondered the comment only a moment before I answered without looking up, "Will they want it?"
-----
The main band had been on a few minutes by the time Miki and I made our way back into the club so the wings were filled with groupies swooning over the all-male band. I spoke the bouncer who helped us in through a side door and towards a very casual green room. The backstage was an orgy of people. Girls in short skirts, guys in tight pants, managers schmoozing, drunken fans throwing themselves on any one who'd give them a chance to stick their tongues down their throats. I didn't want to see this, I didn't want to associate this to Shiori. Hadn't she been pure once? Hadn't she been simple and young and carefree?
"Onii-san!" We were found first. A bush of spiky blue hair bounded past me to wrap herself around Miki. Her arms enveloped him as she nuzzled her face against his neck, mmmming happily. She was completely out of it. Flustered, Miki detangled himself from his sister, staring at her in disapproving shock.
"Kozue, what are you.. you have to stop this!" his voice was low and hissed out of his mouth, but his eyes were pleading. It was a lost cause, she only laughed and draped a skinny arm over his shoulder, "Oh, Miki, stop what? I'm just having fun." Miki stared at the inside of the arm displayed in front of him and he grabbed for it, pulling it in front of his face, "You think this is fun? This is bad, Kozue.." I could see his eyes determing what could of caused the tracks and how much would be necessary in the short amount of time she'd been out. Then the cold blue flickered over the people around the room "These people are bad."
Kozue laughed flippantly, jerking her arm away, "Miki.." her voice gained a bit of control back as she addressed him by name, "it's absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious." She sneaked her fingers into the scruff of hair behind his neck, bringing him nose to nose with her, "And you, dear brother, and being far from charming." She pecked him on the lips before he could react and turned him to face the room as she announced, "Everyone - this is my brother. He has my good looks, but he hardly has my stellar personality." Everyone laughed, even if they hadn't heard her, they just knew to laugh.
But one laugh I caught in the air, like the song of a bird - albeit a very tired bird. As the people parted, some approaching the twins with interest, I noticed Shiori standing in the doorframe of a dressing room. She looked worse up close than she did from stage. Her hair was so thin and her rather yellow hued skin was tight on her bones. There were dark, permanent circles under her eyes which looked somewhat bloodshot. She was so unhealthy. I wanted to approach her and wrap her up in my arms. Comfort her, heal her, mend her - but my legs wouldn't move. Her eyes caught mine just as her new partner passed by me towards the door, leaving her brother unattended with a group of gossiping girls. Kozue hadn't spoken to me, yet, but I had a feeling she knew I was there. She knew. She knew everything.
As soon as she reached Shiori, Kozue pushed her against the door and took a deep kiss from her. She pulled the peasant blouse all the way below her chest, leaving her top naked and vulnerable. "There.. I like you better like that." Shiori didn't budge, even when one of Kozue's hands slipped to a nipple that the girl openly rolled between her fingers. "I think you like it, too." Shiori shrugged, wordlessly, but forced a smudged smile - her lipstick rubbed to the edges.
I narrowed my eyes distrustfully, I'm sure. This was certainly not the Shiori I knew. Even her faults were not the same. The Shiori she knew could be selfish, pushy, and self-centered - but weak? Weakness was what Shiori loathed. Strength of self is what she strived for. I was not as angered by Kozue fondling Shiori as I was by Shiori taking it all so passively. She was a doll. She was lifeless.
"Mmm.. you took your medicine, good girl.." Kozue praised, rubbing a fresh injection wound on Shiori's inner arm. "Look, now," she motioned towards us, "our Princes have come to rescue us. Isn't that a laugh?"
I was finally moved into action by this, but Miki beat me to her. "Kozue, leave her alone! Don't you see how sick she is?" Miki ripped Kozue from Shiori, pushing the blouse up carefully and kindly, raising light fingers to brush back her dirty hair from her lifeless eyes. "My God.. is she even conscious in there?" Shiori managed to part her broken, dry lips and utter a gutteral, "..play."
I'm not sure what it was - the drugs, the tension, the stress, or a combination - but Kozue snapped within the moment, pushing Miki back violently. "Why don't you just get the fuck out of my life, onii-san? Isn't that what you wanted? Didn't you want me gone? I left and now you hunt me down like a dog. I'm not your bitch, Miki.. I don't need you!" And suddenly she paused before she broke into a vicious laugh, "But you need me! Don't you? Don't you?! HA! Look at you.. you wilt without me, don't you? You wilt without someone to support - someone to be better than." She choked on her laugh, so amused with herself. "You need something shining - so it can shine on YOU!"
She was desperate to hurt him, desperate to prove herself. The entire room was silent as she laughed herself to tears and then Shiori suddenly burst out in an echo. But Miki could only stare, and there was no readable expression on his face. I felt completely lost in all of this. My emotions, my thoughts were completely numb. I felt like I was watching a movie and not my own life. Was this life? It seemed like all the questions I'd ever had were suddenly screaming to be answered and I had no clue where to begin. I was pulled out of my revere by the familiar sound of Shiori throwing up. She was doubled over a trash can by the door, vomiting more than I thought could fit in her malnourished body. Some groupie hurried over to her, holding her sides and looking back at us with naive young eyes that had seen a lot - but not enough to really understand. "You two should just go," she demanded, squeezing Shiori tightly and causing a new wave sickness.
And Miki startled me by complying. He simply walked on command towards the back door. When he passed Kozue her laughter faded into soft hiccups as she watched after him, a little thunder struck by his move. I could only follow. I was overloaded. I felt completely out of control so I followed Logic out into the night, hoping Reason could give me solice and understanding. Even though I knew it would be far too much to ask from him right now. I welcomed the cold air into my nostrils as it washed out the putrid stench still wafting from backstage and I walked a few steps behind my co-captain.
We rounded corners, weaving between mass groups of people, trying to keep as far from Times Square as possible. The people were still faceless to me. I had too many faces in my head already, I didn't need to add more strangers to it. My past was battling with my present, memories super-imposed over each other. Miki was so quiet that he almost reminded me of.. me. I felt I was seeing the real Miki for the first time and it was almost frightening. To see someone for the first time when you thought you'd known for what seemed like forever.
We'd managed to find our way into the edge of Central Park. There were many people there as an outside concert went on at the south side. But he finally seemed spent as he stopped and sat on an unexpected bench.
"Three weeks.. six days.. eight hours.. twenty-four minutes.. thirty seconds.."
I quietly lowered myself next to him on the bench and looked at the digital display as it whipped through time. Unnecessary crutch. After a night like this, I could finally tell him what he needed to hear.
"You're real, Miki-san."
His lashes fluttered over glazed eyes before he let out a short burst of a laugh under his breath, "Of course I am." he said without really meaning it.
"You're real, this is real - you were right."
Now his look changed. The blue of his eyes sharpened to a calculating stare as I heard a faint *beep*. He had stopped the watch, stopped time just for a moment - just for this.
"You knew all along, didn't you? We all probably suspected something was wrong with that school, with our lives. But you knew beyond a doubt."
"I had doubts"
"But you timed it. You timed it all. You created time in a place where time didn't exist. It never moved, it never changed, we never lived. Except in that stopwatch. Except for you."
"It was so long, sempai." he whispered, clenching the small device in his talented grip, "We were there so long. For time not to exist, we took up quite a bit of it." He sighed, leaning back against the bench, letting his fist loosen, "We lived for years without really living at all... and then, it seems, all of life came crowding into one single hour."
"This is not all of life." I stated simply, without hesitation. This couldn't be all there was. After five years, this was still too much like Ootori. Old issues were still here. Somehow there had to be more, there had to be something beyond. Something after.
He grinned to himself several moments before bowing his head in concession, "I suppose you're right."
Even in our seclusion we could hear the sudden uproar of a countdown. I thought it quite fitting as I heard the single digits being yelled into the night sky by the city of New York, but saw no movement on the watch in Miki's hand. "Looks like time goes on without you here."
"I just hope life goes on, too."
"Believe.." I found myself whispering, more to myself than to him. Believe... so that all your dreams come true.
He looked at me as the the clocks of the east coast struck midnight. He stared as the cheers and singing lifted everyone up, raised them all with elation. And he moved in without warning. His kiss was soft and unintrusive, like a feather against the skin. I thought his lips were chapped earlier, but against mine they felt smooth and gentle. Young. Fresh. I wanted them to always stay that way.
When he pulled away I realized I had not closed my eyes at all. So our eyes met immediately and he knew what I'd already known. What we both had always known. Laughing, with faintly pink cheeks, he smiled up at me - his sempai, "I know.. just not sexy."
I chuckled with him, "Happy New Year, Miki-kun."
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Author's Aside : Wow.. this is a totally different style from the other chapters. But I like it a lot and had fun writing it. This chapter's taken a big turn away from the norm. But I think that's good. I mean, it has been several years since I wrote the others, my style had to change. This chapter has been festering in my head for ages so it had a lot to work out. Also, I have a big loyalty to Miki, so I wanted his arch in the story to get everything it deserved. I am /i trying to put him and Juri together, I hope that's obvious. And this is definitely not the end of the story - the rest of it is certainly more Juri/Shiori related. But we had to have this falling out, distanced period. I think the lyrics practically demand it. What else.. ah, I know I do a lot of mixing the series with movie allusions. This is because I'm kind of basing this reality on the fact that the duellists are personas that have lived through all the "revolutions". So don't get confused - just give into the insanity. :) Oh, and all the nursery rhymes? Yeah - more connected to the last verse (o/~Honey, you make about as much sense as a nursery rhyme.o/~) and I couldn't fit it in until this chapter. Also, sorry for the long A-ko and B-ko tirade, I just figured they got fit right there and I love 'em. :D And, yes, I put in the inside joke of 'Baaa...'. It was my old Anti-Shiori site, so I doubt anyone gets it anymore. But that's cool, it's my story, only I have to be amused really. ;) Woo - thanks again to everyone who reviewed, please let me know how you like things now!