Disclaimer: Shoujo Kakumei Utena is copyright the original creators and, in America, Central Park Media. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this work of fan fiction. This is a work of noncommercial amateur fan fiction; it is not published for profit or material gain. The author has no intent to infringe any intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Utena or its derivative works.

Possession -

He is exactly on time. I suppose he wouldn't dare be anything else. I have trained him well and he knows the price of ignoring a summons from me. I said I wanted him at this hour, and he came. I check to make sure everything is in order before opening the door for him, though. The table is spread – the selection is not large, but it will serve, and I've lit the candles just to see his reaction. I don't really care what he thinks, of course, because this is a celebration for me, not him. It is simply for the enjoyment of watching his reactions; watching the way his pride falters before he recovers.

To my disappointment, he only gives the table a half-interested look when the door swings open, however. He steps in, but he doesn't look at me, doesn't even really greet me as I invite him inside. He is a good servant, simply waiting for me to use him as I see fit.

I make him wait, so he can think about what it might be that I want from him. He watches me while trying to make believe that he isn't , and his posture is stiff.

"What is it you needed me for, sir?" He asks, voice tinged with frustration.

I try not to smile. He's pretending he hates me again, pretending that he doesn't want to be here. He still doesn't realize that his very existence depends on my interactions with him.

"Maybe I simply wanted your company." I say, and I do smile this time, although it is dark and mocking, letting him in on my sarcasm. He knows that his company is nothing I need. Nevertheless, there is a truth to my lie. I can learn far more from his presence than I would were I not looking him in the eye. He is as gifted in the art of deception as I, and it is something we both acknowledge. So I am required to engage him in hospitality and small talk.

That was the whole reason I had dinner brought in, actually, why I called him in at a time that would almost guarantee that he had not already eaten.

"Please," I say, gesturing to the spread of food on the table. "Eat something."

He shakes his head slightly. "I already ate." He says. I know he's lying, but choose not to comment on it.

It's so cute, the way he's trying to defy me. He wouldn't dare go against me in something that matters, so he'll do things like this. It is a common game, between us. A dance that we've both been dancing so long that we know the steps by heart.

"I can hardly eat all this by myself." I respond to his statement.

"I'm really not hungry." He says again, determined now.

"This food is decent, unlike whatever you ate before." I reply. The food they serve here is generally quite good. Tonight I know for a fact that it was not.

"The food in the cafeteria is fine." Touga responds.

"I've heard differently." I say.

"I'm fine." He says again, his voice wavering slightly. He knows that I will grow tired with the game soon, and that he has not won this round. It's time for me to let him know my displeasure, and I let the tone show it, softening to an imitation of concern that borders on dangerous.

"Come on, Touga. Just a piece of fruit, at least? An apple a day keeps the doctor away, you know."

Touga looks a me then, and those fascinating grey eyes are tinged with misery. "What about demons?"

I cannot help but to raise an eyebrow. This is unexpected. Yet, at the same time, there is no defiance in the question. It was a simple query.

"I don't know about that," I say, picking up the piece of fruit and studying it carefully, contemplating the question for myself. I stalk forward and place my hand on Touga's shoulder, suppressing a smile as he flinches under my hand. "If you eat it, though, there are a few nightmares I can guarantee you won't have." I say, loading the words with promises and threats that I know he will understand.

He does, perfectly, and I can feel the muscles under my hand tense as he tries to remain still. Slowly, he reaches for the apple. I shake my head, slightly, not letting him take it, letting him remain confused while I reach for a knife, cutting a slice from the flesh of the fruit and holding it out to him. He takes it, careful not to touch my fingers as he does, and chews it slowly. I try not to be intrigued by the way his throat undulates as he swallows, and cut another slice from the apple, handing that one to him as well.

We continue this way until the apple is gone, when I discard the core by placing it onto a plate on the table. He doesn't move, still watching me.

"Good boy." I murmur, knowing that he'll hate me for the comment, and I smirk when his eyes flash. There is something dripping down my wrist, and when I look down to see what it is, I realize the apple has managed to cover me in juice. Cursed thing, making me lose face when it was supposed to be a tool in my power.

I reach for a napkin, intending to wipe it off, but before I can Touga has stepped forward, grasping my arm. I look up at him curiously, and smile. His eyes are narrowed, and he looks determined. We've began stage two of the game then. He pulls me forward, and I shift my gaze to where his long fingers are wrapped around my wrist, and allow him that much rein.

His plan is completely predictable, as always. First, he tries to deny me, and he's already done that. Now, he is trying to take control of the situation, taking full advantage of his abilities. I force myself to remain passive as he touches me, bringing my hand to his mouth. It is not as simple as I would like, especially since I am required to look at him while he does this, my eyes locked with the smoldering and determined gaze he has adopted. I have dealt with far more emotionally challenging situations, and I simply wait.

This game is important. He has pulled out his greatest weapon against me, and it is important to our relationship that he understands that, no matter what he uses, that I will be better than him; that all his best efforts will be completely futile. He is nothing, a tool. He realizes it, and still he tries.

Perhaps it is an illusion, caused by the power he holds within the school. Maybe he hasn't realized quite yet that I'm the one who gave him that power – I am the only reason he controls the school. It is my power, and my gift to him. He would be nothing without me, and I am not stupid. No one is stupid enough to grant someone power without the ability to control that person. It would be suicide. All of Touga's best efforts will fail because I made him – I rescued him from being trapped in the desolation of his own mind, and I gave him everything that he is.

I see it in his posture, as he realizes that, once again, he will fail. Slowly, I begin to straighten the arm he holds downwards, towards the floor. I take my free hand and let it rest on his shoulder, the weight heavy, but not demanding. He knows what I'm ordering him to do, so there's no need to waste words or energy on conveying knowledge we already share.

He responds, if slowly, as his legs bend, and in a few moments he is on his knees before me. He no longer has control of my hand, and is instead using it to convey the extent of his obedience, forehead pressed against the back in a symbol of submission.

He will submit to no one but me. There isn't a person down there who has found the lock to Touga's soul and, even if they were, they would still have to hold the key as well. There are times when I worry, thinking that someone has perhaps found that key. Those moments have increased, recently, with the inclusion of The Girl into the duels.

This is why I bring him here as often as I can, to make sure he still understands. He rules the duelists, and I rule him. It is as simple as that.

"Good boy." I say again, knowing that he'll hate me for it, and that there is nothing he can do to act on his hatred.

END