"By the way, Himemiya…"
"Yes?"
Utena and Anthy sat out on the grass, eating their dinner together and watching the sun set in the western sky. It had been chilly earlier that morning, but the weather was fickle, and had grown warm enough to be comfortable. They were enjoying the tranquility and feeding some hungry squirrels. Animals, Utena noticed, seemed irresistibly attracted to Anthy. A sense of peace pervaded the world. All was right, except…
"About the professor. What was in that box?"
"I don't know," said Anthy, pulling apart a bit of her sandwich to offer it to a chipmunk.
"You don't know?" Utena was bemused. "Then why tell him not to open it?"
"I recognized the rose symbol on it and know that no good can come from it. Didn't you also recognize that symbol?"
"Yeah… I did," admitted Utena, thinking back on it. "But I didn't realize it meant anything bad."
Anthy did not comment.
After a moment, Utena added, "Speaking of these weird recollections, does the professor ever strike you as… I don't know. Someone you shouldn't trust?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. He is only a puppet."
Utena looked silently at her, puzzling that over. "Then, who's the puppeteer?"
"Utena…" Anthy's bright green eyes focused on her, and a smile touched the corners of her lips. "You can call me Anthy."
"Oh." Utena smiled. She let that change of subject pass. "Sorry. Just habit I guess. Somehow it just feels like… Himemiya seems familiar. All right. Anthy."
Anthy's shy smile faded as she said quietly, "I wish I could say I like this school… the truth is, I lied to Professor Nemuro. I am not a student here."
"I figured you weren't," said Utena. "Why did you lie to him?"
"I can't stay here too long, I'm afraid," Anthy went on, eyes downcast.
"Why not?"
She only shook her head, looking sad.
"Do you have to go home or something?"
"No. I need to attend college, but my application here was turned down. I will go elsewhere. Only… even though we have only just met, I will miss you very much when I go."
"Where are you going?" Utena asked, deeply troubled by the turn the conversation had taken. She had only just met her, only just found her again. How could Anthy threaten to disappear so quickly?
"I haven't decided yet," Anthy answered her.
"Well… when you do decide, let me know," said Utena earnestly, taking her hand. "I… want to come with you."
"But, Utena—"
"If you want me to," she added softly.
Anthy's eyes widened, glimmering a little in the fading daylight. She averted her gaze, perhaps to hide the emotion in her face. "That would make me very happy."
"It's settled then." Utena smiled and squeezed her hand. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together."
"Yes…" Anthy gave a timid smile, and lightly returned the squeeze. "We'll face it together."
She seemed comforted by Utena's decision, but it did not entirely erase traces of anxiety from her manner. These were well hidden, but Utena could detect them. Something worried Anthy, and Utena suspected it had to do with that box that had been sent to the professor.
What was inside it, I wonder…?
It was during their walk home that Anthy informed her that she intended to leave later that day. Utena was dismayed.
"But we only just met!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, but I have to be getting back…" said Anthy.
"When will I next see you?"
"I'll write to let you know where I intend to attend school."
"What… you mean… Not until next semester? At the earliest? You can't possibly be serious!"
"I have no choice," she said regretfully.
"Of course you have a choice! Stay here until tomorrow at least. At least stay until then!"
Anthy frowned unhappily.
"Look, you can't just appear, claim to be someone I've lost, and vanish again," said Utena, starting to feel a little angry. "It doesn't work like that! I don't know who you are, but I know you're important to me. How can I understand it if you vanish so suddenly?"
"I will stay until tomorrow then," she said, "but no longer. I can't."
Utena's expression was one of hurt and defeat. "Until tomorrow then…" she said sadly, not comprehending this enigmatic young woman.
They walked home together mostly in silence, each woman lost in her own thoughts.
By the time it was dark, they had begun talking normally again, chatting as if nothing had happened. Neither of them referred to Anthy's impending departure. Since she had no place of her own, she acquiesced to Utena's insistence that she share her room that night.
Utena's dorm room had two beds, for it had originally been intended as a double, but Utena lived there alone. She cleared off the spare bed for Anthy, who in the meanwhile took it upon herself to tidy the entire messy room – much to the embarrassment of Utena. For awhile they stayed up and talked. Utena tried to get Anthy to open up a little, but ever since that incident with the box, Anthy had retreated into her demure and pleasant shell. She showed very little emotion, and their conversation, though cheerful and amiable, was shallow.
It wasn't until the lights were off and they were both in bed that her roommate's mask dropped a little.
"Utena…"
"Yes?" Utena opened her eyes. She found herself reaching out automatically, as if to take Anthy's hand, but the beds were across the room from each other. Instead, she simply looked at the other woman.
Anthy's green eyes were transfixed on her, but now the vacancy was gone from them. They were deep pools of emerald, their depths unfathomable, filled with thoughts and emotions that Utena could not discern.
It was this that Utena had been waiting for with such patience. Her easy acceptance of Anthy's odd ways did not signify a lack of curiosity; in fact, she was curious as hell about the woman, but somehow she knew that if she waited, if she was patient, Anthy would emerge freely from her shell. Their gazes met through the soft, silvery moonlight.
"If I were to vanish from your life, you would still be a prince," Anthy said softly.
"What are you…" Utena's question at her strange statement faded away, replaced by a peculiar, intuitive sort of comprehension. You mean I would still be the same person… but that's not true. You make me whole. I can't explain it, or understand it, really, but somehow…
Either she had spoken aloud without realizing it, or Anthy somehow divined her thoughts, for she smiled slightly and said, "You have a generous nature, but you will find other princesses to rescue."
"What are you talking about?" Utena pushed herself onto her elbows. "Why do you feel like you have to leave me? Why are you saying this to me now, this stuff about princes and princesses?"
"Do you remember the morning star?" asked Anthy.
"You mean Venus?" queried Utena.
"Lucifer, the dark prince who dreams of the power of Dios."
"Dios," echoed Utena. "You mean God?"
There was a long silence before Anthy said, "He is still suffering…"
"Who is?" Utena was utterly confused now. "This Lucifer guy? Is he the one who sent the package to Professor Nemuro?"
Something hidden came into Anthy's eyes. "Utena, have you heard the term 'crocodile tears'?"
"Yeah, it means someone is insincere in their show of sympathy, right?"
"The saying comes from the belief that crocodiles weep in order to lure in their prey. Their victims, feeling sorry for the weeping crocodile, come close to offer sympathy, only to be devoured. For this reason 'crocodile tears' means a hypocritical and insincere show of grief. However…"
"However?"
"I think perhaps the people who coined the term do not understand the nature of the crocodile. Perhaps it can't help what it is. Do you ever wonder if really, it is suffering inside while it lures in its prey and devours them?"
"I've never thought about it, I guess," admitted Utena, unsure where this conversation was leading, or what significance "crocodile tears" had to Anthy. "Even if it is suffering, it's not a very nice thing for the crocodile to do. It shouldn't prey on the sympathies of others."
"Perhaps not, but…"
"But?"
"That is the nature of the crocodile."
"Hmmm…" Utena wondered what the purpose of this odd conversation was.
"By the way, Utena…"
"Yes?"
"Did you know that in fact, crocodiles don't have tear ducts, so they can't weep?"
"I didn't know that." Their dialogue was getting stranger by the minute. Utena tried to figure out what mixed message might be behind the metaphor of crocodile tears that Anthy had just nixed by her fact-of-nature-trivia. She eventually gave up and asked, "What do crocodile tears have to do with Lucifer?"
"I can't help but feel sympathy for the crocodile," said Anthy. "Especially since I've also…"
"You've also what?"
"… it's nothing." The green eyes closed.
Utena sighed, swallowing her disappointment. She had felt so convinced, for a moment, that Anthy was going to explain everything.
This, like so much else, felt familiar. She had experienced it all before. As she closed her eyes, images of weeping crocodiles drifted through her mind; she tried to trace the thread of the conversation, to comprehend the link between Lucifer and the morning star and crocodile tears and Anthy and princes and princesses. She tumbled into slumber with a vision of a weeping crocodile on a white horse galloping into her dreams.
(on
central
campus)
Nemuro worked late that night, perhaps as a compensation for his lapse earlier that afternoon into the world of the asylum. He engrossed himself in the project, meaningless though it was, because it was sane and logical and measurable, and perhaps if he surrounded himself with enough hours of diligent, routine behavior, he might escape the fraying of his mind.
It worked during the many hours he spent there that evening. He thought not once of his dreams, experienced no more flashbacks, and the photographs were forgotten in the corner of his office.
It was only on his walk home that a specter returned to haunt him.
"Working late tonight, Nemuro."
He ignored the familiar sound of that deep voice.
"Did you make any progress on the project?"
He did not hear footsteps, yet the voice kept pace with him, always coming from within a few meters of him as he strode swiftly along the sidewalk.
"You can ignore me as long as you like, but that will not make me vanish."
He kept walking.
"… perhaps I should bring you another little memento of your past."
Nemuro halted and looked around. Evidently, Akio Ohtori was not going to leave him alone without some sort of acknowledgment. He glimpsed a tall figure, almost a shadow, leaning against the side of a building.
"I want nothing to do with you," Nemuro stated flatly.
"This is yours, I believe."
The shadow made a motion with his arm, and something small and white sailed through the air towards Nemuro. He caught it reflexively, and opened his hand to look at it.
It was a white ring, gleaming faintly in the moonlight, with a rose signet.
The hundred boys flashed in his vision. He dropped the ring.
"I wonder if you will have bad dreams again tonight?" mused Akio. "Though perhaps, it will not be so bad. Sometimes doing shameful things can be so pleasant."
Nemuro gave a frown at the unwelcome recollections that came with Akio's insinuation. "How do you know so much about me?"
Akio chuckled softly. "Perhaps I am a figment of your imagination."
"I doubt I would want to conjure so unpleasant a companion."
"Maybe you are unconsciously punishing yourself for crimes of the past," suggested the Chairman in an amused tone.
"Perhaps…" conceded Nemuro, less to Akio than to himself. Given the unreliability of his mind of late, it was impossible to draw a conclusive line between reality and fiction. The dreams undermined all logic. They were like something in a foreign language typed into a computer – there was meaning, but it could not be translated by the machine that had not been programmed to interpret it. Vague memories, intuition, dreams, hallucinations – they directly defied the clean-cut, objective and rational mode of thinking he had cultivated throughout his life. A hallucination that could pick up a real magazine with its imaginary fingers, two personalities sharing the same mind and separate lives – these were physical impossibilities; he acknowledged them as such, but had no explanation for them, except that perhaps the original programming in the machine was flawed, and he was misinterpreting the data.
"Do you want to escape these dreams?" queried the Chairman.
"Yes."
"I can arrange it for you. In answer to all the questions colliding chaotically in your brain, Professor Nemuro, you are only one person. But, as you have long suspected and as has lately been verified to you by your increasing hallucinations, you are far from sane. Your mind is fractured, so much that you have fractured your own reality. I can repair it for you. I will make the dreams vanish. All you have to do, is tell me…"
"Tell you what?"
"Where is she?"
Nemuro could feel the man's smile, though it was too dark to make out his features. The immediate response he felt would have been appropriate was a cold and complete refusal, but doing that would not help his predicament.
He paused to consider the matter objectively.
The advantages of agreeing to Akio's bargain were self-evident. Assuming Akio could fulfill his promise, he would be glad to be rid of the dreams.
What about the negative consequences? He would expose Anthy Himemiya's whereabouts to this man who claimed to be her brother. Himemiya, however, was none of his concern. He mistrusted her nearly as much as Akio; whatever was going on between them did not involve him.
What if he refused? Himemiya's location would not be disclosed, but the dreams would persist, and Mikage's life would further complicate his own. It was becoming an unmanageable problem.
It seemed that the most rational choice was to accept the Chairman's bargain. So why did he hesitate?
It was intuition… the same intuitive sense that told him that Akio could indeed end his dreams also warned him not to strike any bargain with the man, no matter how advantageous. Nemuro silently considered the vague, undefined, mutable things that were his emotions, and weighed them against his objective reasoning. When he probed for some explanation for the mistrust he felt, he found nothing conclusive; for his suspicion was not rational, but instinctive. Or perhaps it was the echo of things forgotten… like the guilt he had experienced in Tokiko's presence.
Akio waited patiently, a silent, barely perceptible entity who may as well have been a shadow. It seemed to come as no surprise to the Chairman when Nemuro chose logic over intuition. The few concrete facts available to the professor made his decision a relatively simple one:
There was a possibility that Akio would eliminate the dreams in exchange for information about Anthy's whereabouts.
There was a possibility that Akio would fail to hold up his end of the bargain and Nemuro would disclose Anthy's whereabouts to no purpose.
Anthy meant nothing to him; therefore the loss if this occurred would be minimal.
The gain, should Akio fulfill his promise, would be significant.
With all possibilities weighed, the logical decision was to accept.
Casting aside the vagueness of intuition, he said, "She is with Utena Tenjou, a student at the university in 218 Balch Hall." Her address he had learned after his second encounter with her, when he had looked up her name for any clue as to how he knew her. That information, like anything he came across, was imprinted forever in his computer-like memory.
"I see," said Akio, the smile in his voice overpowering. The Chairman's presence receded, and his voice drifted to him from afar: "You have been most helpful. Your dreams will end tonight. From now on, you will be whole."
(Author's note: Bah! Nemuro you fool! Don't you know he's the devil? Don't do it! Meh heh heh. Ugh... I have an awful time trying to write Anthy's scenes. What happens after this chapter? Does Akio keep his part of the bargain? I think the outcome of it might be too predictable.
Thanks for the review, Hofftailing! Akio's scene was rather brief, but it certainly has significant repercussions for all the other characters.
As always, any comments/criticism/just-a-note-to-let-me-know-you're-interested-enough-to-read-the-fic, are very much appreciated! I'm thinking perhaps the story moves along too slowly, but such, alas, is my writing style...)