Aishuu Offers:
Afterimage
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Shoujo Kakumei Utena - la fillette revolutionnaire" (C) Be-PaPas, Chiho Saito/Shogakukan, Shokaku Iinkai, TV Tokyo. The US version "Revolutionary Girl Utena" is (C) Central Park Media. Afterimage and all original characters and plot copyright 2001-3 by Aishuu Shadowweaver. Please ask permission before reposting.
AN: Dedicated to Lyra, who loves Touga as much as I loath him.
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Part Four: Sealed Darkness
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I am not the man I once was.
That man -boy- is dead, as dead as the autumn leaves that fall to the ground in late October, their beauty faded and never to return. At times I mourn slightly for him, the sensual and self-assured youth who was determined to revolutionize the world, no matter the means he would have to use, but those times are few and far between. I believe I've grown wiser with age, and wisdom, while painful, is something never to be regretted.
Sometimes I look back and wonder when it all changed. When did my perspective alter, and things I once valued become no more important than those autumn leaves buried under the snow? I've always been something of a ladies' man, but when I was younger, I couldn't even keep my girlfriends straight. They came through my life one after another, until their faces blurred in my memories and their names didn't matter.
I loved women- their soft bodies embracing mine in passion, the way they begged for my attention, the way they did anything I asked of them. Having my way with the prettiest of them came as naturally to me as breathing, yet even locked in the throes of passion, I was distant from my partners.
I never had a lover. Don't get me wrong, I had sex. Plenty of sex. Tall women, short women, young and old. As long as they were pretty, they were mine. But none of them ever touched me more then physically, no matter what they may have desired. I know sex and love are two very different things, and sometimes I wonder why I've never had the later. It's not that I'm incapable- merely that none of those women who paraded through my life was able to hold my attention.
And neither did any of the men.
That surprised some people- the fact that I didn't really care about gender. Pleasure is pleasure' it doesn't matter how it is achieved. I took whoever caught my attention, and they invariably bent to my wishes. I am the epitome of what a man should be, or so I have been told. I am handsome, talented, intelligent' I say that without vanity, for I believe in being aware of strength, as well as weakness.
The only thing all my lovers had in common was that they were beautiful, physically. I couldn't stand to be touched by anyone who didn't have a blinding beauty- I never bothered to look beneath the skin to see their character, though, since I didn't want to know. None of them were what I was looking for, and if I didn't know them, I could pretend that my trysts meant more then sheer lust.
No one loved me for I wasn't worth loving.
Nanami thought she loved me above all else, but I knew that someday she would find someone else to take my place, even if she didn't want that to happen. She was my sister but I could not be everything she needed. Sometimes I thought that was a good thing- she was all I had in the world that I valued, so of course I had to distance myself from her. I didn't want to tarnish her with my shadow.
University passed for me much like high school had- the studies were simple, and the people fell all over me, doing whatever I wanted. I was beautiful, I was rich, I was charismatic, popular and brilliant... I was everything everyone else wanted to have and be. But I was unsatisfied with my life, and I didn't know why. Inside of myself, I longed for something. I knew that there had to be more to life than what I was doing, but I couldn't figure out what.
I went into my father's business, quickly taking over the helm of some of the more important companies. Under my guidance, their assets multiplied, but there was no challenge in it. It was easy for me, as everything in my life was.
That was my story: everything coming to my hands, yet I remained unsatisfied.
A year ago, I looked into a mirror, and realized I was bored. Bored of life, bored of always having success fall into my lap. There was something I wanted, something out of my reach... but I didn't know what it was. It frustrated me, and I was starting to doubt whether I would ever find that elusive thing to make my life worthwhile. As I stared at my face, I realized that nothing had changed for me. I was frozen in time, locked in some kind of stasis I couldn't break. Within me slumbered the dream of something great, but I couldn't realize it. There was something holding me back.
Without conscious thought, my fist clenched, and I sent it through the mirror, sending the sparkling shards flying. I wanted to break the me I saw reflected in the mirror, break the shallow man I was. I wanted... more. I always wanted more. Blood dripped down my hand, and I stared at the bright crimson drops, wondering if there was an answer in them.
My current lover, a foreign girl named Rachel, was the one who found me. She came running when she heard the glass shattering, and her shocked _expression amused me. I turned to her, my long red hair loose around my bare shoulders, an enticing sight, I'm quite sure, but for once I wasn't trying to seduce her.
"Sometimes I think I'm going mad..." I whispered to her.
She shook her head, her wide blue eyes glazing in shock. "Let me get some bandages, Touga...."
I stared at the blood, which was running down in slow crimson streams, resembling the way my hair plastered against my skin in a fierce rainstorm. It was beautiful, and I barely felt the pain. Instead, I walked over to her, placing my hand against her pale cheek. She flinched a bit at the feel of the sticky substance against her face, but I bent to catch her lips with my own. "Don't bother," I whispered, before running my hand over her face, leaving a trail of blood on her features, following it with my tongue to taste the copper flavor it left behind.
The sex was wonderful, some of the best sex I remember. There is something about blood and sex, something primal that stirred my instincts. But she left the next morning, and I was alone, left with a hand that burned from healing and a turbulent mind.
I made no move to replace her with another lover.
I hated my life, but I had no idea how to break my cage. I was trapped in a dance I had been groomed for since birth, and no matter which way I turned, I would forever be waltzing it. I was Kiryuu Touga, and I could not escape it. Learned patterns of behavior were such impossible things to break unconsciously. With Rachel gone, it took a conscious effort to learn not to think about sex and sensuality every moment. I would not find what I needed through the bedroom; I had tried and tried that, but my answers were not there. I was still considering my options months later, at loose ends...
And then... Nanami graduated and with it, came Miki's return.
Miki was not one of the people I had desired. His sister and I had, at one brief point, flirted with each other, but each of us had been pulled away from each other before a relationship had been consummated. I was relieved for that, because Kozue later became Nanami's closest friend, and that would have made things awkward between us. But Miki....
Kaoru Miki made me uncomfortable, challenging me simply by being. He was everything I was but lacking my fault. He held my perfection and tempered it with purity. How could I desire him? Every time I saw him, I was forcibly reminded of my sins.
But the night of Nanami's graduation party, I realized that underneath Miki's gentle nature, a storm was brewing. He slapped my sister, and though I didn't know why, I knew that something was moving. Our worlds were turning, and deep inside of me, I felt like the day was about to break.
But they say the darkest hour is always before the dawn.
Those next few days were the worst. I called Juri, demanding that Miki be held accountable for assaulting my sister, and then things were eerily quiet. I waited patiently, remembering how many times before I had set intricate plans in motion only to see them come to fruition months or years later. It wasn't until the third day, when I was in the middle of breakfast, that my butler ushered in Arisagawa Juri, with Kaoru Miki a step behind her. Nanami stood a few feet behind them, her eyes watching them in resignation.
I set my cup of tea down. "Juri? Is there anything I can do for you?"
The elegant woman stepped towards me, her long hair flowing entrancingly around her like a living cape. She had always been one of the few women I had respected as a person, yet had not lusted after. She was beautiful, stunning' all the things a woman wanted to see when she gazed into the mirror to see her reflection look back at her. Still, I realized that she couldn't be what I wanted. Inside, she was fragile. Saionji had teased me about letting a perfectly good dyke go to waste- after all, shouldn't I cure her of her misguided attraction to that purple-haired chit she had mooned about in high school?
I had laughed. Juri wasn't a lesbian anymore then I was gay. She merely appreciated beauty in all its forms, and ignored the person's body to try to see the soul within. Usually she was perceptive, but she had a curious blindness towards Shiori that I found amusing.
"We have some questions for you." Her voice was brisk and business like, but something in her aqua eyes seemed on the verge of combusting. There was fire in them, fire which had been missing the last few times we had encountered each other socially. I liked it, liked seeing her alive like that. It was like the spark that I had been missing had found its way into her, and maybe she would be able to ignite me as well.
I tilted my head, wondering what she wanted. I hadn't anticipated being the focus of animosity, but I enjoyed it. I loved being the center of attention. "Oh?" I asked, tilting my head. "I have answers, but maybe they're not the ones to the questions you're looking for."
The look on her face was priceless. Toying with Juri had been one of my favorite high school pastimes, after sex, and pretending to know more than I really did was a specialty of mine. I had no clue what she wanted, but there was no way I'd ever let her know that. They talk about a feminine mystique, but I had a mystique of my own to maintain.
Nanami, though, looked at Juri and Miki. She smiled at them gently, "You promised me that I could speak to him," she told them, then came towards me. Her hand raised, and I noticed a ring on her finger flashing, one of the rings that members of the student council had been given. "Do you remember? You gave this to me, and asked me to show you my power?" she whispered.
I blinked, staring hard at the ring. "I gave it to you when you took over for me," I told her. "Senior year, I got sick." That year... was so blurred... whenever I sent my thoughts towards it, I hit a mist, unable to recall. Juri and Miki exchanged glanced. "He doesn't remember, Nanami," Juri said softly, turning to take a box from Miki I hadn't noticed the blue-haired man was carrying. "Touga, take this," she said. "It might trigger something."
"No, oniisama, don't!" Nanami begged, trying to intercept the box Juri was handing my way.
I raised an eyebrow curiously, as the box slipped into my hands. The lid was latched with an elaborate, but practically useless, engraved catch. "Why shouldn't I?"
Nanami looked like she was ready to strangle Juri as she wheeled on the other women. "He doesn't remember. Leave him out of this!" she demanded angrily, clenching her small fists to her side.
Surprisingly it was Miki, the quiet one, who answered. "Hush, Nanami," he ordered, his voice holding surprising authority. "He needs to do this." He placed a calming hand on her shoulder, which she glared at like it was a viper.
I was too curious now to listen to her anyway. I opened the case, and the scent of roses wafted out, stirring vague memories. I gave roses to many women, often as a morning after present. The crimson petals were piled high, and I had to brush them aside to see a sword. The light flickered off the slender metal, and my head started to spin. I had held this sword before, once. I pulled it out, and memory returned.
Roses even redder than the petals in the box, flying away from me as I lost, knocked away by a Victor. A man with white hair who showed me places no mortal should see. A platform where eternity was battled for' and a girl who refused me.
The only girl who had ever refused me.
"Oniisama?" Nanami whispered nervously, her soft voice shaking me out of my trance.
"I carried this sword once, pretending to be a prince," I whispered. "But it was never really mine."
"You don't want it. It's a malevolent object, the Sword of Dios'" Nanami said, bitterness lacing her words.
"The Sword of Utena," I corrected. "She made it hers." I caressed the flat of the blade gently. "And if it was hers, it can't truly be evil- Utena didn't have any evil in her heart."
"Didn't she?" Nanami asked. "She was seduced by Akio."
I gave her a narrow look. "How do you know that?" I demanded. I hated the memory of Utena in his arms, but I couldn't deny it, as much as I wanted to.
"She stayed with them, Anshi and Akio... the devil and the witch." Nanami's eyes flared. "I stayed with them! I saw..." Her direct gaze faltered, and then I watched her withdraw into herself.
I remembered. I remembered then, the lies about my adoption. Stepping closer to her, I used the tips of my fingers to grasp her sharp chin in my hand so I could force her to meet my eyes. "Nanami... the lies back then were built upon a truth. I was adopted... but so were you. We were both sent to the Kiryuu residence together."
She looked at me, and then her hand reached up to grip mine. I felt the cool press of her ring against my skin, and my eyes widened in surprise when she stepped back. "The cruelest lies are based off the truth, aren't they, oniisama?" she asked.
I nodded slowly. "I should have told you back then, but I was young." I looked at her fair head, wondering why I had thought it romantic to torment her. It had been cruel, and if I had been a good brother, the kind of brother she deserved, I never would have thought of it. I would have protected her, as she deserved, as she believed I always would.
I never would have let her become a Duelist.
"We all were," she said softly.
I glanced around at our gathering, realizing that we were still incomplete. "We're missing someone..." I looked at Nanami and Miki with tired, world-weary eyes. "I'm not the one with the answers you want," I told them. "Maybe Saionji would know something?" I suggested.
Juri shook her head. "None of us remembered anything. It was only after we saw the sword that memories were triggered, and I don't think bringing Saionji in on this would be a good idea. He and Utena never got along."
I thought on that for a minute. "I would like to talk to him anyway," I told them. I glanced down at the sword in my hand, feeling its comforting weight. I hadn't practiced kendo in ages, but this sword reminded me of the calluses I had lost. I would need to start practicing again, because...
I started a bit at the train of my thoughts. Would I need to wield a sword, to seek the revolution?
To seek her?
I thought of her resolute blue eyes staring up at me, knowing that I would do anything to see them again. A smile played across my lips, before gently returning her sword back to the box. We won't be able to find you, Utena, but if we do, perhaps this time, you can have lunch with me. We can laugh at the old times, and forget about the pain of the past, I thought.
"I'm going to see Saionji," I announced. I had to at least make the effort to close the book on this chapter of my life - perhaps that was what I needed. I had been frozen in stasis, never knowing that I had never moved forward from that rejection.
Juri and Miki looked at me with mistrust, but Nanami came and helped me fasten the latch. "Do you want me to go with you?" she asked hesitantly.
I shook my head. "I'll see him on my own," I told them. "None of you like Saionji, and he'll be hard enough to deal with as it is."
Juri walked over to us, picking up the box with sure hands and handing it to me. "You don't like him, either. I don't know if it's a good idea..."
I smiled at her, resisting the urge to pat her on the head like a child and assure her things would be all right. Saionji and I had an understanding, the kind only rivals could. He was my opposite as I was his. He would speak to me because he was unable to deny me and the challenge I represented. Rivals never truly let each other go; ours was an intense love that defied words.
I turned to leave, holding the box in my hands. Miki, though, caught my should in a surprisingly strong hand, catching me off guard. I turned to look at him, and was surprised that he was almost tall enough to look me directly in the eyes. His face was too beautiful to be handsome, but as I stared at him, it dawned on me he wasn't the child who had Dueled for that shining thing he didn't understand.
Kaoru Miki had grown up.
"What do you want?" I grated out.
His hand fell away, but his deep blue eyes remained on mine, unwavering from their goal. "I want you to come back when you're done talking to him and tell us what you've learned," he told me.
A smile tugged at my lips. "What makes you think I won't?"
He glanced over at the girls, before raising his hand to rest it on my chest directly over where my heart beat. "I know you, Touga. I know you know how to lie better than any of us," he said. "If we're going to find her, we need to work together." He pressed his fingertips deeply into my shirt, and I felt the implied threat. He wasn't a cub anymore, but a lion ready to show his fangs. "So come back, and tell us the truth of what you learn."
My smile widened and I winked at him before disappearing out the door. I didn't know what to say, but I knew I didn't want to made any promises. If there was one think I had learned, it was the power of a promise, and not being able to keep one.
Saionji's house was a half an hour away from mine. He had gone to a different college than I had, but we still met once a week for lunch usually to discuss everything from business and politics to our current projects, each carefully taunting the other without crossing that invisible line. There was nothing like a beloved enemy, and I knew his schedule as well as my own. He dabbled in investment, but his true love was being a patron of the arts. He was quickly gaining a reputation as an art critic and I trusted his taste whenever I went to purchase something. He had an eye for the up and coming artists and I knew that by the time he was thirty, he would be opening recognized as Japan's foremost expert on modern art. He wouldn't be expecting me, but my arrival wouldn't throw him that badly.
I needed the sword and the memories it would invoke to do that. I needed to take Saionji off-guard if I would ever be able to get anything useful from him. Each of us Duelists had a piece of the puzzle, I would wager, and I wondered if he held one of the vital pieces.
When I arrived, Saionji's butler ushered me to the sunroom where we often conversed. After turning down an offer of tea, I took a place on the couch, placing the box on my knees. Saionji would keep me waiting for a few minutes before arriving.
Sure enough, that was what he did. He leaned against the doorframe, studying me. It had taken him ten minutes for him to show up, and I could tell he was in a particularly prickly mood. His eyes were sharp and I knew now was not the best time to toy with him.
But no one ever accused me of being overly cautious. "Hello, Saionji," I said.
"Hello." He came into a room, and I felt our ongoing power struggle renew. "What do you have there? Some kind of art you wanted me to look at?" He gave me a considering look.
Oh, it was art, I thought. Perhaps one of the greatest masterpieces ever created. I considered for a second, wondering if I should continue to bait him, or if I should confront him immediately.
Saionji's eyes were curious as he studied the box. "The box is interesting, but I hope there's something inside. I don't think the box is going to gain much value."
"Inside is the key to the future," I whispered.
"Huh?" Saionji said, but there was something in his face that grew guarded. I noted it, wondering.
My hands undid the clasp with ease, and then I was delving into the red rose petals, which filled the room with their sweet, almost overpowering, fragrance. My hands immediately found the hilt, and then the Sword of Dios was rising as though it weighed nothing, taking my hand with it as it drew itself into the light.
Saionji's eyes widened substantially when he saw what I was holding. "Where did you get that?" he demanded fiercely. "Put that cursed thing down!" he ordered. There was fear in Saionji's eyes, genuine fear, something I had never seen reflected there.
One thing became immediately clear to me as I sat in that sunroom, with the midmorning sun reflecting off the blade of the sword. My breath quickened, and it was all I could do not to rise to my feet and level the blade at my friend's, my rival's, throat.
He remembered.
The bastard had recognized the sword on sight, with no pause for unfogging memories. "Saionji!" I snapped angrily. "You will tell me what you know!" I ordered in a dangerously soft voice, a voice which no one was ever able to deny.
His answering smile was mocking. "Know? I know nothing. And admitting that is the first step to finding the truth." Still, his eyes lingered on the sword, rather than on me, and I knew I had rattled his confidence. Inside of his soul, he was shaking in fear.
"Knowledge is admitting you know nothing?" I reflected back at him bitterly. "I'm not in the mood for games, Saionji. Tell me about the Duels, and where Utena is."
He looked at me, and came closer. Saionji was intimidating at that moment, threatening and wild like a tiger just let off a chain. He backhanded my wrist hard enough to cause me to drop the sword in surprise. Neither of us watched it fly across the room, but I heard it chime against the floor, a musical sound that was impossible for plain metal to make against wood; instead our eyes locked in a battle of will. "You know nothing," he told me. "Keep it that way, Kiryuu Touga. Don't invite the devil to dance; he's contained at Ohtori right now, but speak his name and you may summon him."
I stared him down. "I promised my sister."
"Haven't you broken promises to her before? Take my word, Touga, and break this one. It's for her own good."
I leaned forward in the seat, glancing over at the sword. "Now that the Sword of Dios is back in our lives, it must be dealt with. It's not something that can wander around without a wielder, and do you trust any of us to wield it? Have we truly grown enough? Tell me about Utena and the Duels... I don't remember everything in a linear fashion - my memories are like pieces of a shattered mirror."
Saionji shut his eyes, he shook his head. "I can't." He spoke more quietly, and some of his characteristic darkness faded away, leaving weariness to take its place.
I stared angrily at the man who had been my closest friend. "Why not?"
"Because it isn't my place to," he replied. "Truth is something you have to find for yourself- seek out your memories, and I'll cooperate then."
"You? Cooperate?" I laughed. Saionji was many things, but cooperative was never one of them.
I smiled a bit. "I don't think they'll find Tenjou Utena," I told Saionji. "But... we can at least try to help."
Saionji gasped silently. "You... her..." he stepped back, and I could see that I had taken him by surprise. "What do you remember about her?"
"What do you remember?" I retorted.
Saionji's eyes widened. Then he walked over to the couch, and sank down onto it. "I remember the world changing, and being the only one who stayed the same," he whispered. "I remember the revolution."
I leaned back into the couch, and silently started to laugh. Of all of us, Saionji was the one to remember? Ah, Utena, you would be amused. If Saionji remembers... there's hope. We will find you. Maybe this time, you will be ready for an ordinary man. Not a prince, but a man with flaws and who is human, yet loves you just the same.
END PART FOUR
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Feedback is a very good thing. Thoughts and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks to Raye Johnsen for her time on the beta, especially since I know her opinion of Touga rather matches mine.
Up Next: Cage of My Memories
Saionji
Coming Sooner
Afterimage
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Shoujo Kakumei Utena - la fillette revolutionnaire" (C) Be-PaPas, Chiho Saito/Shogakukan, Shokaku Iinkai, TV Tokyo. The US version "Revolutionary Girl Utena" is (C) Central Park Media. Afterimage and all original characters and plot copyright 2001-3 by Aishuu Shadowweaver. Please ask permission before reposting.
AN: Dedicated to Lyra, who loves Touga as much as I loath him.
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Part Four: Sealed Darkness
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I am not the man I once was.
That man -boy- is dead, as dead as the autumn leaves that fall to the ground in late October, their beauty faded and never to return. At times I mourn slightly for him, the sensual and self-assured youth who was determined to revolutionize the world, no matter the means he would have to use, but those times are few and far between. I believe I've grown wiser with age, and wisdom, while painful, is something never to be regretted.
Sometimes I look back and wonder when it all changed. When did my perspective alter, and things I once valued become no more important than those autumn leaves buried under the snow? I've always been something of a ladies' man, but when I was younger, I couldn't even keep my girlfriends straight. They came through my life one after another, until their faces blurred in my memories and their names didn't matter.
I loved women- their soft bodies embracing mine in passion, the way they begged for my attention, the way they did anything I asked of them. Having my way with the prettiest of them came as naturally to me as breathing, yet even locked in the throes of passion, I was distant from my partners.
I never had a lover. Don't get me wrong, I had sex. Plenty of sex. Tall women, short women, young and old. As long as they were pretty, they were mine. But none of them ever touched me more then physically, no matter what they may have desired. I know sex and love are two very different things, and sometimes I wonder why I've never had the later. It's not that I'm incapable- merely that none of those women who paraded through my life was able to hold my attention.
And neither did any of the men.
That surprised some people- the fact that I didn't really care about gender. Pleasure is pleasure' it doesn't matter how it is achieved. I took whoever caught my attention, and they invariably bent to my wishes. I am the epitome of what a man should be, or so I have been told. I am handsome, talented, intelligent' I say that without vanity, for I believe in being aware of strength, as well as weakness.
The only thing all my lovers had in common was that they were beautiful, physically. I couldn't stand to be touched by anyone who didn't have a blinding beauty- I never bothered to look beneath the skin to see their character, though, since I didn't want to know. None of them were what I was looking for, and if I didn't know them, I could pretend that my trysts meant more then sheer lust.
No one loved me for I wasn't worth loving.
Nanami thought she loved me above all else, but I knew that someday she would find someone else to take my place, even if she didn't want that to happen. She was my sister but I could not be everything she needed. Sometimes I thought that was a good thing- she was all I had in the world that I valued, so of course I had to distance myself from her. I didn't want to tarnish her with my shadow.
University passed for me much like high school had- the studies were simple, and the people fell all over me, doing whatever I wanted. I was beautiful, I was rich, I was charismatic, popular and brilliant... I was everything everyone else wanted to have and be. But I was unsatisfied with my life, and I didn't know why. Inside of myself, I longed for something. I knew that there had to be more to life than what I was doing, but I couldn't figure out what.
I went into my father's business, quickly taking over the helm of some of the more important companies. Under my guidance, their assets multiplied, but there was no challenge in it. It was easy for me, as everything in my life was.
That was my story: everything coming to my hands, yet I remained unsatisfied.
A year ago, I looked into a mirror, and realized I was bored. Bored of life, bored of always having success fall into my lap. There was something I wanted, something out of my reach... but I didn't know what it was. It frustrated me, and I was starting to doubt whether I would ever find that elusive thing to make my life worthwhile. As I stared at my face, I realized that nothing had changed for me. I was frozen in time, locked in some kind of stasis I couldn't break. Within me slumbered the dream of something great, but I couldn't realize it. There was something holding me back.
Without conscious thought, my fist clenched, and I sent it through the mirror, sending the sparkling shards flying. I wanted to break the me I saw reflected in the mirror, break the shallow man I was. I wanted... more. I always wanted more. Blood dripped down my hand, and I stared at the bright crimson drops, wondering if there was an answer in them.
My current lover, a foreign girl named Rachel, was the one who found me. She came running when she heard the glass shattering, and her shocked _expression amused me. I turned to her, my long red hair loose around my bare shoulders, an enticing sight, I'm quite sure, but for once I wasn't trying to seduce her.
"Sometimes I think I'm going mad..." I whispered to her.
She shook her head, her wide blue eyes glazing in shock. "Let me get some bandages, Touga...."
I stared at the blood, which was running down in slow crimson streams, resembling the way my hair plastered against my skin in a fierce rainstorm. It was beautiful, and I barely felt the pain. Instead, I walked over to her, placing my hand against her pale cheek. She flinched a bit at the feel of the sticky substance against her face, but I bent to catch her lips with my own. "Don't bother," I whispered, before running my hand over her face, leaving a trail of blood on her features, following it with my tongue to taste the copper flavor it left behind.
The sex was wonderful, some of the best sex I remember. There is something about blood and sex, something primal that stirred my instincts. But she left the next morning, and I was alone, left with a hand that burned from healing and a turbulent mind.
I made no move to replace her with another lover.
I hated my life, but I had no idea how to break my cage. I was trapped in a dance I had been groomed for since birth, and no matter which way I turned, I would forever be waltzing it. I was Kiryuu Touga, and I could not escape it. Learned patterns of behavior were such impossible things to break unconsciously. With Rachel gone, it took a conscious effort to learn not to think about sex and sensuality every moment. I would not find what I needed through the bedroom; I had tried and tried that, but my answers were not there. I was still considering my options months later, at loose ends...
And then... Nanami graduated and with it, came Miki's return.
Miki was not one of the people I had desired. His sister and I had, at one brief point, flirted with each other, but each of us had been pulled away from each other before a relationship had been consummated. I was relieved for that, because Kozue later became Nanami's closest friend, and that would have made things awkward between us. But Miki....
Kaoru Miki made me uncomfortable, challenging me simply by being. He was everything I was but lacking my fault. He held my perfection and tempered it with purity. How could I desire him? Every time I saw him, I was forcibly reminded of my sins.
But the night of Nanami's graduation party, I realized that underneath Miki's gentle nature, a storm was brewing. He slapped my sister, and though I didn't know why, I knew that something was moving. Our worlds were turning, and deep inside of me, I felt like the day was about to break.
But they say the darkest hour is always before the dawn.
Those next few days were the worst. I called Juri, demanding that Miki be held accountable for assaulting my sister, and then things were eerily quiet. I waited patiently, remembering how many times before I had set intricate plans in motion only to see them come to fruition months or years later. It wasn't until the third day, when I was in the middle of breakfast, that my butler ushered in Arisagawa Juri, with Kaoru Miki a step behind her. Nanami stood a few feet behind them, her eyes watching them in resignation.
I set my cup of tea down. "Juri? Is there anything I can do for you?"
The elegant woman stepped towards me, her long hair flowing entrancingly around her like a living cape. She had always been one of the few women I had respected as a person, yet had not lusted after. She was beautiful, stunning' all the things a woman wanted to see when she gazed into the mirror to see her reflection look back at her. Still, I realized that she couldn't be what I wanted. Inside, she was fragile. Saionji had teased me about letting a perfectly good dyke go to waste- after all, shouldn't I cure her of her misguided attraction to that purple-haired chit she had mooned about in high school?
I had laughed. Juri wasn't a lesbian anymore then I was gay. She merely appreciated beauty in all its forms, and ignored the person's body to try to see the soul within. Usually she was perceptive, but she had a curious blindness towards Shiori that I found amusing.
"We have some questions for you." Her voice was brisk and business like, but something in her aqua eyes seemed on the verge of combusting. There was fire in them, fire which had been missing the last few times we had encountered each other socially. I liked it, liked seeing her alive like that. It was like the spark that I had been missing had found its way into her, and maybe she would be able to ignite me as well.
I tilted my head, wondering what she wanted. I hadn't anticipated being the focus of animosity, but I enjoyed it. I loved being the center of attention. "Oh?" I asked, tilting my head. "I have answers, but maybe they're not the ones to the questions you're looking for."
The look on her face was priceless. Toying with Juri had been one of my favorite high school pastimes, after sex, and pretending to know more than I really did was a specialty of mine. I had no clue what she wanted, but there was no way I'd ever let her know that. They talk about a feminine mystique, but I had a mystique of my own to maintain.
Nanami, though, looked at Juri and Miki. She smiled at them gently, "You promised me that I could speak to him," she told them, then came towards me. Her hand raised, and I noticed a ring on her finger flashing, one of the rings that members of the student council had been given. "Do you remember? You gave this to me, and asked me to show you my power?" she whispered.
I blinked, staring hard at the ring. "I gave it to you when you took over for me," I told her. "Senior year, I got sick." That year... was so blurred... whenever I sent my thoughts towards it, I hit a mist, unable to recall. Juri and Miki exchanged glanced. "He doesn't remember, Nanami," Juri said softly, turning to take a box from Miki I hadn't noticed the blue-haired man was carrying. "Touga, take this," she said. "It might trigger something."
"No, oniisama, don't!" Nanami begged, trying to intercept the box Juri was handing my way.
I raised an eyebrow curiously, as the box slipped into my hands. The lid was latched with an elaborate, but practically useless, engraved catch. "Why shouldn't I?"
Nanami looked like she was ready to strangle Juri as she wheeled on the other women. "He doesn't remember. Leave him out of this!" she demanded angrily, clenching her small fists to her side.
Surprisingly it was Miki, the quiet one, who answered. "Hush, Nanami," he ordered, his voice holding surprising authority. "He needs to do this." He placed a calming hand on her shoulder, which she glared at like it was a viper.
I was too curious now to listen to her anyway. I opened the case, and the scent of roses wafted out, stirring vague memories. I gave roses to many women, often as a morning after present. The crimson petals were piled high, and I had to brush them aside to see a sword. The light flickered off the slender metal, and my head started to spin. I had held this sword before, once. I pulled it out, and memory returned.
Roses even redder than the petals in the box, flying away from me as I lost, knocked away by a Victor. A man with white hair who showed me places no mortal should see. A platform where eternity was battled for' and a girl who refused me.
The only girl who had ever refused me.
"Oniisama?" Nanami whispered nervously, her soft voice shaking me out of my trance.
"I carried this sword once, pretending to be a prince," I whispered. "But it was never really mine."
"You don't want it. It's a malevolent object, the Sword of Dios'" Nanami said, bitterness lacing her words.
"The Sword of Utena," I corrected. "She made it hers." I caressed the flat of the blade gently. "And if it was hers, it can't truly be evil- Utena didn't have any evil in her heart."
"Didn't she?" Nanami asked. "She was seduced by Akio."
I gave her a narrow look. "How do you know that?" I demanded. I hated the memory of Utena in his arms, but I couldn't deny it, as much as I wanted to.
"She stayed with them, Anshi and Akio... the devil and the witch." Nanami's eyes flared. "I stayed with them! I saw..." Her direct gaze faltered, and then I watched her withdraw into herself.
I remembered. I remembered then, the lies about my adoption. Stepping closer to her, I used the tips of my fingers to grasp her sharp chin in my hand so I could force her to meet my eyes. "Nanami... the lies back then were built upon a truth. I was adopted... but so were you. We were both sent to the Kiryuu residence together."
She looked at me, and then her hand reached up to grip mine. I felt the cool press of her ring against my skin, and my eyes widened in surprise when she stepped back. "The cruelest lies are based off the truth, aren't they, oniisama?" she asked.
I nodded slowly. "I should have told you back then, but I was young." I looked at her fair head, wondering why I had thought it romantic to torment her. It had been cruel, and if I had been a good brother, the kind of brother she deserved, I never would have thought of it. I would have protected her, as she deserved, as she believed I always would.
I never would have let her become a Duelist.
"We all were," she said softly.
I glanced around at our gathering, realizing that we were still incomplete. "We're missing someone..." I looked at Nanami and Miki with tired, world-weary eyes. "I'm not the one with the answers you want," I told them. "Maybe Saionji would know something?" I suggested.
Juri shook her head. "None of us remembered anything. It was only after we saw the sword that memories were triggered, and I don't think bringing Saionji in on this would be a good idea. He and Utena never got along."
I thought on that for a minute. "I would like to talk to him anyway," I told them. I glanced down at the sword in my hand, feeling its comforting weight. I hadn't practiced kendo in ages, but this sword reminded me of the calluses I had lost. I would need to start practicing again, because...
I started a bit at the train of my thoughts. Would I need to wield a sword, to seek the revolution?
To seek her?
I thought of her resolute blue eyes staring up at me, knowing that I would do anything to see them again. A smile played across my lips, before gently returning her sword back to the box. We won't be able to find you, Utena, but if we do, perhaps this time, you can have lunch with me. We can laugh at the old times, and forget about the pain of the past, I thought.
"I'm going to see Saionji," I announced. I had to at least make the effort to close the book on this chapter of my life - perhaps that was what I needed. I had been frozen in stasis, never knowing that I had never moved forward from that rejection.
Juri and Miki looked at me with mistrust, but Nanami came and helped me fasten the latch. "Do you want me to go with you?" she asked hesitantly.
I shook my head. "I'll see him on my own," I told them. "None of you like Saionji, and he'll be hard enough to deal with as it is."
Juri walked over to us, picking up the box with sure hands and handing it to me. "You don't like him, either. I don't know if it's a good idea..."
I smiled at her, resisting the urge to pat her on the head like a child and assure her things would be all right. Saionji and I had an understanding, the kind only rivals could. He was my opposite as I was his. He would speak to me because he was unable to deny me and the challenge I represented. Rivals never truly let each other go; ours was an intense love that defied words.
I turned to leave, holding the box in my hands. Miki, though, caught my should in a surprisingly strong hand, catching me off guard. I turned to look at him, and was surprised that he was almost tall enough to look me directly in the eyes. His face was too beautiful to be handsome, but as I stared at him, it dawned on me he wasn't the child who had Dueled for that shining thing he didn't understand.
Kaoru Miki had grown up.
"What do you want?" I grated out.
His hand fell away, but his deep blue eyes remained on mine, unwavering from their goal. "I want you to come back when you're done talking to him and tell us what you've learned," he told me.
A smile tugged at my lips. "What makes you think I won't?"
He glanced over at the girls, before raising his hand to rest it on my chest directly over where my heart beat. "I know you, Touga. I know you know how to lie better than any of us," he said. "If we're going to find her, we need to work together." He pressed his fingertips deeply into my shirt, and I felt the implied threat. He wasn't a cub anymore, but a lion ready to show his fangs. "So come back, and tell us the truth of what you learn."
My smile widened and I winked at him before disappearing out the door. I didn't know what to say, but I knew I didn't want to made any promises. If there was one think I had learned, it was the power of a promise, and not being able to keep one.
Saionji's house was a half an hour away from mine. He had gone to a different college than I had, but we still met once a week for lunch usually to discuss everything from business and politics to our current projects, each carefully taunting the other without crossing that invisible line. There was nothing like a beloved enemy, and I knew his schedule as well as my own. He dabbled in investment, but his true love was being a patron of the arts. He was quickly gaining a reputation as an art critic and I trusted his taste whenever I went to purchase something. He had an eye for the up and coming artists and I knew that by the time he was thirty, he would be opening recognized as Japan's foremost expert on modern art. He wouldn't be expecting me, but my arrival wouldn't throw him that badly.
I needed the sword and the memories it would invoke to do that. I needed to take Saionji off-guard if I would ever be able to get anything useful from him. Each of us Duelists had a piece of the puzzle, I would wager, and I wondered if he held one of the vital pieces.
When I arrived, Saionji's butler ushered me to the sunroom where we often conversed. After turning down an offer of tea, I took a place on the couch, placing the box on my knees. Saionji would keep me waiting for a few minutes before arriving.
Sure enough, that was what he did. He leaned against the doorframe, studying me. It had taken him ten minutes for him to show up, and I could tell he was in a particularly prickly mood. His eyes were sharp and I knew now was not the best time to toy with him.
But no one ever accused me of being overly cautious. "Hello, Saionji," I said.
"Hello." He came into a room, and I felt our ongoing power struggle renew. "What do you have there? Some kind of art you wanted me to look at?" He gave me a considering look.
Oh, it was art, I thought. Perhaps one of the greatest masterpieces ever created. I considered for a second, wondering if I should continue to bait him, or if I should confront him immediately.
Saionji's eyes were curious as he studied the box. "The box is interesting, but I hope there's something inside. I don't think the box is going to gain much value."
"Inside is the key to the future," I whispered.
"Huh?" Saionji said, but there was something in his face that grew guarded. I noted it, wondering.
My hands undid the clasp with ease, and then I was delving into the red rose petals, which filled the room with their sweet, almost overpowering, fragrance. My hands immediately found the hilt, and then the Sword of Dios was rising as though it weighed nothing, taking my hand with it as it drew itself into the light.
Saionji's eyes widened substantially when he saw what I was holding. "Where did you get that?" he demanded fiercely. "Put that cursed thing down!" he ordered. There was fear in Saionji's eyes, genuine fear, something I had never seen reflected there.
One thing became immediately clear to me as I sat in that sunroom, with the midmorning sun reflecting off the blade of the sword. My breath quickened, and it was all I could do not to rise to my feet and level the blade at my friend's, my rival's, throat.
He remembered.
The bastard had recognized the sword on sight, with no pause for unfogging memories. "Saionji!" I snapped angrily. "You will tell me what you know!" I ordered in a dangerously soft voice, a voice which no one was ever able to deny.
His answering smile was mocking. "Know? I know nothing. And admitting that is the first step to finding the truth." Still, his eyes lingered on the sword, rather than on me, and I knew I had rattled his confidence. Inside of his soul, he was shaking in fear.
"Knowledge is admitting you know nothing?" I reflected back at him bitterly. "I'm not in the mood for games, Saionji. Tell me about the Duels, and where Utena is."
He looked at me, and came closer. Saionji was intimidating at that moment, threatening and wild like a tiger just let off a chain. He backhanded my wrist hard enough to cause me to drop the sword in surprise. Neither of us watched it fly across the room, but I heard it chime against the floor, a musical sound that was impossible for plain metal to make against wood; instead our eyes locked in a battle of will. "You know nothing," he told me. "Keep it that way, Kiryuu Touga. Don't invite the devil to dance; he's contained at Ohtori right now, but speak his name and you may summon him."
I stared him down. "I promised my sister."
"Haven't you broken promises to her before? Take my word, Touga, and break this one. It's for her own good."
I leaned forward in the seat, glancing over at the sword. "Now that the Sword of Dios is back in our lives, it must be dealt with. It's not something that can wander around without a wielder, and do you trust any of us to wield it? Have we truly grown enough? Tell me about Utena and the Duels... I don't remember everything in a linear fashion - my memories are like pieces of a shattered mirror."
Saionji shut his eyes, he shook his head. "I can't." He spoke more quietly, and some of his characteristic darkness faded away, leaving weariness to take its place.
I stared angrily at the man who had been my closest friend. "Why not?"
"Because it isn't my place to," he replied. "Truth is something you have to find for yourself- seek out your memories, and I'll cooperate then."
"You? Cooperate?" I laughed. Saionji was many things, but cooperative was never one of them.
I smiled a bit. "I don't think they'll find Tenjou Utena," I told Saionji. "But... we can at least try to help."
Saionji gasped silently. "You... her..." he stepped back, and I could see that I had taken him by surprise. "What do you remember about her?"
"What do you remember?" I retorted.
Saionji's eyes widened. Then he walked over to the couch, and sank down onto it. "I remember the world changing, and being the only one who stayed the same," he whispered. "I remember the revolution."
I leaned back into the couch, and silently started to laugh. Of all of us, Saionji was the one to remember? Ah, Utena, you would be amused. If Saionji remembers... there's hope. We will find you. Maybe this time, you will be ready for an ordinary man. Not a prince, but a man with flaws and who is human, yet loves you just the same.
END PART FOUR
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Feedback is a very good thing. Thoughts and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks to Raye Johnsen for her time on the beta, especially since I know her opinion of Touga rather matches mine.
Up Next: Cage of My Memories
Saionji
Coming Sooner