Drabbles

By spheeris1

Pairings: Multiple…

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[And ChuChu Makes Three]

"Himemiya is... like family, I guess. When she, Chuchu, and I, the three of us are together it's kinda relaxing. We don't even have to talk to each other...." I tried to explain.
"That makes it sound like you're a married couple with a child." Wakaba replied.

Anthy needs my protection.
More than I need a Prince, more than I need to be a Princess...you have to be willing to sacrifice things to protect your family...
My family. Lost once...taken from me when I needed them the most. To shelter me, to mold me, to show me which path to take--and which to avoid.
This family. New to me and yet...yet I cherish it as much as the first. Having Anthy depend on me, need me---perhaps Wakaba is right.
Maybe it is more than just 'friends' after all.
Maybe is goes beyond just family as well.
What the three of us have, yes...ChuChu also, is something special.
And special things are worth fighting for.

-

[Beginnings]

Just like the story, just like a ball of gold rushing to the confines of the shaded woods...only to lead you to that prince of slimly skin, that frog of false nobility...
He was just bitter at being trapped. He didn't handle the situation well.
Utena watched in dismay as red rubber skidded over pavement, down the hill...bouncing off of trees, into the forest.
She knew it was wrong to go alone, but Utena was alone--and who else would get her ball?
So, in she goes--so small against ancient oaks, using mammoth roots as steps, trying not to tread too heavily on the ground.
A rustle above frightened her.
The sun pierced through the leaves as she looked up, blinded for a moment...tumbling to the ground, scraping her leg and dirt on her palms.
'Are you okay?' A small voice asked. Utena looked over, all her pain momentarily forgotten. A girl, her age it seemed, stood holding the ball.
Utena nodded that she was fine, staring though it be rude to do so.
'I'm Anthy.' The girl said, walking over. Utena noticed that she was barefoot. Utena noticed that her little slip of a red dress was ragged.
'I'm Utena.'
And the girl smiled beautifully, making Utena feel like smiling also. Utena wanted to take her home, to wash her clean and give her nicer clothes...
'Are you alone?' Utena asked. Anthy laid the ball down in Utena's lap. She kissed the tip of her index finger and then placed it upon Utena's lips.
'Not anymore.'

-

[This Story]

Utena felt like writing, so she sat down at the desk in her office. But she didn't use her computer. Or even the typewriter.
No...this story deserved paper. From the Earth, organic and real.
This story needed that sort of reality.
And Utena made a few calls to a few people, people she should talk to more often and yet still avoids.
Juri's voice was muffled, cell phone static....she told Utena that the wind was strong today, blowing sand over the deck and knocking furniture over. Shiori was holding the cat so the little thing wouldn't be afraid.
Utena asked if she could write about some things from the past--the things all of them could not really remember.
'If you must, you must.' Juri said, an edge of familiar steel seeping into her words. But Utena understood.
'I'll change the names to protect the innocent...'Utena replied. Cruelly innocent...
Touga was out-of-breath, pausing to drink water. He was practicing outside--same moves, over and over. His body needed a good work-out...since his accident. Saionji gave up on motorcycles after that. Touga used the guilt to get massages every night...Saionji has strong and sure hands.
'I suppose that period of time is interesting. And we are all friends here...' Touga conceded. But Utena knew that was only partly true.
'I won't write anything untrue...'Utena promised.
A man who believes in friendship is a fool...
At first, Miki would not take the call. But then his secretary said Utena's name...and his voice came on. He was busy, grading papers for his psychology class. And then he had a dinner to attend, black-tie of course. Kozue insisted that he take her, she bought a new dress. He would have to rush to pick her up and make it in time.
'I hope you won't be offended if I do not buy this book.' Miki said, the sweet sound of his concern--a sound of years ago--lurking behind the words.
'No one has to buy it, I am writing it for myself. Just a silly thing for me to do...'Utena lied.
A shining thing...

First chapter became fourth became tenth.
And still there was more to tell...always so much more.
Utena sharpened her pencil and glanced at the clock, tiny neon red numbers telling her it was well past her bedtime.
But she could not stop.
The need to purge herself of this, to render the past helpless on the pages...it must be done.
It was a journey that Utena had to finish, no matter the cost or pain or turmoil...or lack of sleep.
After two rings, a sleepy Nanami picked up the phone. Don't you have clocks where you live? No...go back to sleep Mitsuru.
My husband is a light sleeper, just like our daughter. She is two next week.
'If my brother agrees to it, then I will also. Is that all?' Nanami yawned. Past the mother and wife, Utena could still catch a glimpse of the selfish little girl.
'So sorry to wake you up...' Utena apologized.
Tamago, tamago...
Wakaba cleared her throat. Just got over the flu...been hell on classes. Studying all-night, but failing. Flying...learning to fly...Used to be so afraid of heights or of leaving the solid ground. Things are different now...so very different.
'I remember you. You were special to me, I think.' Wakaba says quietly. And Utena wants to cry, wants to rush to her side and tell her everything.
'And I remember you, too...'Utena whispers.
Onion Princess...
On chapter twenty-one, Utena stops. She lets the pencil drop from her hand. Smudges of lead on her fingers, slate gray against ivory...and Utena rushes out of the room.
She runs from her house, out into the dark and damp night. The lights reflect on puddles, the cars splash by her as she runs down the sidewalk.
The air feels good in her lungs. The wind feels glorious on her skin---like freedom, like perfection---but not.
Not quite.
Utena walks purposefully to the pay-phone, digging for change...it'll take a whole lot of coins to make this call.
But all stories must end, they must shift and grow with time...as they all have, some in small ways...others in big ways.
Anthy says hello and Utena cannot speak.
It's you. I know it is. I am doing well, if you want to know...if that is why you have called. I've wanted you to call for so long...is that okay to say to you? I hope so. I hope...I don't know what I am hoping for....
'I've missed you more than you'll ever know.' Anthy says. And it echoes the sentences running inside of Utena's heart.
'If I asked you to come to me, would you?' Utena questions.
Shine together...
Utena fell asleep, unfinished...

-

[Sunset On Me, Sunrise Over You]

Juri won once before, though many do not remember that time.
No one recalls that time, months and months before Tenjou Utena decided to play 'Prince'.
But Juri can see it, clear as glass--
'I am your flower from this day forward.'
--what a joke, what a lie, what a game...
Juri stands at the threshold of her room, her palm feels hot from touching her skin, from showing the Bride how she feels about 'miracles'--
'I don't believe in your powers. Do you know that?'
A single solitary orange petal tumbles over the silent hallway. Juri watches it run from her fingers, watches it slip away...like so many other instances, Juri cannot hold onto that which is precious to her--
'Isn't the sunset beautiful, Juri-sama?'
Hot water can never be hot enough. And Juri wishes to disappear in the steam for a moment, to not feel this agony, to not wear this chain around her neck...
'Are you suppose to act like this always?'
'I won once...' Juri reminds herself tonight, seeing a glimmer of gold in a faraway greenhouse. The Rose watering the roses, timid touches upon petals--how they became one that night, Anthy's face...*her* face...it was so easy to lose after that.
Such a simple mistake.
'Does this bother you, Juri-sama?'
'No...no, it is fine...come closer...to me...'

-

[The Only Child]

Everyone said that Juri was always quiet in this way.
Silent. Eyes unblinking.
Juri would study you, figure you out and then move on.
Did not matter that she was seven and you were fifty, did not matter one bit...
Her father found it troublesome. Those eyes staring straight ahead in the car to school or activities. A child should be loud, running and playing, believing in silly things like giants and ghosts.
But her mother found it amazing. Her daughter was so perceptive, so strong, so sure of herself. A woman like that is rare, much less a little girl.
They left one morning for vacation, leaving Juri in the care of well-paid nannies. Juri read her books, then wandered the halls--to her father's study. She ran her fingers over the spines of leather-bound novels...but she was just wasting time, stalling...making sure not to get caught.
And then, Juri opened the glass case on the wall. The chair shuddered with her unsteady footing. Juri did not care, not now that her father's sword was in her hands.
Heavy hilt of brass, grip of wrapped leather, silver blade shining like a million stars.
Juri had no one to share her first crush with, to gush and wax poetic like a moony romantic.
She felt it though, a fire that burned and chilled her body.
Power in her already slender fingers.

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[Symphony]

It was not anything more than what it was.
Just two people, connecting for a moment then splitting apart once more...just two people who have loved and lost, just two people who found some kind of strange solace in trying to remember years gone by...
First time, it was an accident. A meeting at an art gallery, talking about Dali. Touga said the paintings reminded him of his childhood and Miki knew that feeling---sliding clocks, stilted animals...
And they shared a cab, snow drifting down over the city. Touga asked him to his home, for coffee...Miki was no fool.
But Miki followed him upstairs. He ran his fingers over the tabletop, all white and lightly engraved with roses.
Pictures adorned the walls, under soft lighting. Touga put his hand on Miki's face...cold cold fingers...Miki smiled.
'Let me warm you up...'
Second time, it was planned. Keys jingling in locks, doors slammed...Miki needed this. Touching Touga reminded him of his loss, of his fears, of his time out of time.
And Touga talked as he kissed, words pouring out of his lips--I don't talk to them anymore I can't drive too fast I miss her I miss them all I wish it had never ever happened...
Miki liked the texture of Touga's hair.
It was like silk.
And Touga would chuckle before pushing Miki lightly out the door.
Miki doesn't mind walking home alone.
All his ghosts were laid to rest in a crimson-haired bed.

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[Catharsis]

A car crash is beautiful to her.
Shining metal, cracked with chipped color, dancing flames melting over stretched leather--highway is burning
Those moments when you are in the air and time stops.
Time halts and sound becomes muted.
She cannot hear the glass shatter like her heart has done millions of times before, she cannot hear the scraping against pavement like the ringing of a million blades.
All she can hear is glorious silence.
She loves the sun as it splits into a rainbow through the spiderweb of windshield, she adores blue sky spinning above as this automobile turns over and over and over--days are ending
She can feel her skin peel off, rich and royal blood creating a cocoon over her body, a warm shell in which she is not owned.
Never to be claimed, never to be traded, never to be chained.
She knows she is free as liquid floods her lungs, she knows she has escaped at the scent of charred rubber...
Earlier that morning, Anthy got up and left her bed empty.
She paid her bills. She sent her doves flying into the great beyond. She filled the tank and inhaled the gasoline.
Her foot never left the petal, her eyes never wavered, her grip did not weaken.
And no one could catch this kuruma...........

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[Traditions]

...one...
Saionji did not believe in himself, no matter what others might say to change his mind.
Every morning was just another day to wake up and feel less than perfect.
Knots in his forest of hair, smelling of oil and pine...his Mother always complained about his hair.
Why couldn't it be straight? Why couldn't it be shorter?
But Saionji followed his father's wishes.
He saw the pictures on the wall of the kendo room, of samurai...his father thought samurais like gods, wise-beyond-years and bamboo for bones. His son would aspire to that type of stature--jokes and teasing aside.
Saionji learned to grow a thick skin and to shed the hurt like a snake.
Touga met him one day and Saionji was stuck between finding the boy silly...and then finding the boy amazing.
His mother called Touga 'little prince' and Saionji hated that--for he believed it as well.
Touga was something perfect. Something Saionji would never be.
He kept the bandage for days after Touga tied it around his hand.
Saionji held it to him as he slept, waking to find it near his lips...
He kissed it before throwing it away.

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END [for now…]