AN: My word! What is this, you say? An update? On this fic? But it's been dormant for so long! I thought for certain it was dead! But no! It's back! Surprise!
Disclaimer: I don't own much, much less these characters, and what I have isn't very interesting. You don't want it. It isn't worth the trouble to sue me.
Guided by the Stars
by Lyra Matsuoka
Chapter 3: Through The Looking Glass
A month passed without incident. Life resumed a steady and normal pace; at Ohtori Academy students went to class and to their dorm rooms, ignoring the arena save for the occasional curious glance. It was an oddly shaped hill, most of the them said, and it was a common dare to walk up to the odd doors and tug on them – the longest anyone had managed to hold on was twelve seconds. The arena made the students nervous and they steered clear of it. Rumor had it that something bad had happened there, something that caused the headmaster to withdraw into his study. An accident, most people whispered. Someone had died there – probably a middle school student trying to prove how brave they were.
Since no one could confirm what had actually happened there, the rumors grew and shifted and shrank and grew again. No one stepped in to prevent them, and no one stepped up to set the record straight.
There were a few old students who were rumored to have had something to do with the accident – three of them had graduated, two of them walked the halls as easily as they had before the rumors had started.
Nanami and Miki were never asked what actually happened. Speculation was more fun, anyway. It was also hard to believe that they might know something and weren't telling; the story had already become urban legend.
But there were those who began noticing strange occurrences around campus. The greenhouse, which had been public for a long while, was suddenly marked 'For Alumni Use Only'. And the lights in the headmasters study remained on long into the night.
One month to the day after her brief return to Ohtori, Utena arrived at her apartment, her pink hair blowing in the breeze. It had been a lovely day, and Utena smiled and waved to her neighbors as she opened the mail box and dipped her hand inside.
The mailbox was nearly empty. Only one envelope was inside, and it seemed to have been carefully positioned rather than carelessly jammed in as mail so often was. She glanced at it, surprised to see that her name was on the front – she had honestly thought it to be a mistake. The paper was high quality and clearly expensive. She pulled out her keys, looking for the correct one and began climbing the stairs to her apartment, the envelope dangling in her hand. As she opened the door and removed the key, she flipped the envelope over and froze. The door swung shut behind her, but Utena was staring at the rose seal imprinted in wax.
Her bag was thrown to the nearest chair as Utena slowly opened the envelope and removed the embossed card concealed inside and began to read.
Dear Ms. Tenjou
Your presence is required at the
To Bring The World Revolution Ball
A charity event to be held at the Ohtori Academy
9:00 p.m.
Wendsday
That was all. Utena grimaced as she inspected the card several times. Wednesday was four days away, but the timing wasn't what concerned her. The fact that they had found her at all was something to be considered carefully. Had Akio ever lost track of her? Had he known that she would appear in Tokyo, bleeding heavily and fighting for her life? Had he tried to help her and been prevented, or had he simply not cared?
And most importantly, had he resumed the identity of World's End?
No emotions showing on her face, Utena walked to her room and lifted the ornate sword down from the wall. In a smooth and practiced gesture, Utena drew the blade and tossed the sheath to the carpeted floor.
"Grant me the power to bring the world revolution," Utena muttered, watching the blade flash in the muted light.
A pounding on the door woke Juri. She rolled over
in bed, put her feet on the floor and stood, all silently. She did not look in the mirror as she walked down the hall toward the door; there was a confidence in that simple refusal. A bathrobe lay on a chair in the main room - Juri picked it up and whirled it about her shoulders, not bothering to tie it shut. She whipped the door open without even a thought to possible danger lurking on the other side of the portal. A deliveryman gaped at the beauty standing in the doorway.
Without a word he extended a clipboard. Without a word, Juri took it and signed her name with a cold, clipped gesture and snapped it back out to the man in the hallway. He handed her a package; she accepted it and shut the door.
The delivery man walked away, froze and walked back. Without knocking, he slipped a white envelope of heavy stationary under the door.
Juri looked up at the whisper of paper. Standing, she padded back to the door, bent and retrieved her mail. Turning it over, Juri stared coldly at the rose seal stamped in orange wax. She ripped the envelope open and removed the embossed card. She read it quickly. So, this was the game.
Juri walked to her room and dressed to face the day. She had little time for the past.
Miki stared at the envelope left in his mailbox. He hesitated before opening it, knowing that this was a link to the past he had forgotten and unsure that he wanted to allow those events to see the light of day once again. But after a few moments he carefully broke the blue rose seal and drew out the embossed card.
"Your presence is required..." he read aloud. His head snapped up as he read the next line, and he scanned the surrounding area instinctively before returning to the card. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, basking in the morning sunlight before turning back inside.
He carefully closed the door and placed the envelope and card on the piano as he moved toward the kitchen and the phone. He dialed by rote, so certain of the numbers that he did not need to pay attention to the act of pressing them.
The phone trilled in his ear and a brisk female voice greeted him.
"Juri," he said, turning to look out the window. "I assume you've received your invitation?"
Saionji took his time warming up at the studio. He stretched his muscles with the calm deliberation of one long accustomed to such activities, and made no effort to rush. The quiet of the studio was one of his favorite parts about it and was a large reason for his selection of it. It was located in a quiet part of the city, and there was little motorized traffic nearby.
He closed his eyes and let the silence cradle him as he reached for a practice weapon. His ears detected motion – the barley perceptible sound of footsteps. He turned to see Touga standing opposite him, a white envelope held carelessly in one hand.
"Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if you've received one of these?"
"Perhaps," Saionji responded. "But you'll ask regardless."
"Why bother? I have your answer."
"Has Nanami received one?"
"Yes. She called to tell me, very nearly hysterical."
"What possible reason could the Academy have for inviting us to a charity event?" Saionji asked, beginning his routine. Touga watched his movements closely, but didn't move from his position against the wall.
"We are former Student Body Council members, and successful in our own right after leaving the Academy. Perhaps they intend to show us off."
"Or perhaps they're tempting us with the possibility of answers. I have many questions to ask them about that year."
"As do I," Touga replied, looking down at the envelope. "As do I."
In the growing twilight, a lone figure sat quietly at a small café, gazing out the window at the lights of the city. A small animal sat on the table, quickly devouring cookies. The woman sitting with him lifted a delicate china cup and took a sip before quietly placing the cup on the table and standing. She smiled at the clerk as she collected her bag and her companion and went into the night. The scent of roses lingered behind her as Anthy stepped onto the street, her long purple hair hanging loosely down her back.
"It is time," she whispered as she turned and walked into the night.