[KnM][RGU][MH] Revolutions
Revolutions – Chapter 12 (Mothers & Childs)
A Kannazuki no Miko, Revolutionary Girl Utena and Mai Hime X-Over Fanfic
February 14, 2013 – March 3, 2013
Word Count: 9,600
More Author's notes follow at the end. Comments and Criticisms are greatly appreciated!
*15 YEARS AGO*
The sixteen year old teen-aged mother stared at the group of 3-4 other women who were chatting together at the edge of the playground while their children played together in the playground and swallowed nervously. She looked down at her baby daughter, strapped into a homemade sling, and rubbed the baby girl's back. It was more to comfort herself than to comfort the child, though the child did not complain under the ministrations.
The girl took a deep breath. "Okay, Utena," she muttered softly to herself. "Stop being a coward. Just... just be brave. Just go out there, and introduce yourself, and everything will work out. Come on, you owe it to your baby girl to try, right?"
Said baby girl looked up at her mother with curiously intelligent eyes. While she didn't say anything, her eyes seemed to be giving her mother a bit of encouragement.
Working up some gumption, Utena walked purposefully across the park, back straight (a little too straight), eyes ahead, deftly avoiding tripping over the playing toddlers that got in her path to approached the group of women in order to make Chikane's park debut, and hopefully, to score her daughter some help with her current predicament.
"Hi!" Utena said, as cheerfully and politely as she could. "Um... nice weather, isn't it?"
The other women, ranging from 10 to 15 years her senior by the looks of them, stopped chatting and looked up at her in surprise and appraisal. A couple of them traded significant glances with each other, and Utena could feel the hairs on the back of her neck tingle unpleasantly.
Finally, one of them smiled. "Yes, it's a lovely day for playing in the park, isn't it?"
"It sure is." The pink haired girl tried to squash down the nervousness she felt inside. She looked down at her daughter for strength, and found it when her baby continued to look up at her with luminous, encouraging, blue-green eyes. "Um, my name is Tenjou Utena, and this is... " she took a deep breath, "... this is my daughter, Chikane."
A couple of eyebrows shot up, and what previously had been mere curiosity in the other women's eyes now definitely took on the more cruel edge of judgement. Utena wanted to kick herself.
Oh great. Waaay to go, genius. You don't always have to tell the truth you know. Little white lies aren't supposed to hurt anyone...
A couple of the women gave each other more uncomfortable glances, but luckily the one of them that had smiled before simply continued to smile, and Utena thought she could see a bit of kindness in her eyes.
Standing up, the woman came over to Utena and looked down at her baby, smiling at her. "My name is Sato Koyomi. She's adorable, Utena-san. How old is she?" Sato-san gently pushed one of her fingers into Chikane's grip, and the baby girl knew to grab onto it, and smile as winsomely as she was capable. She even gurgled, the noise sounding suspiciously like, "hello".
The woman's smile broadened, obviously charmed. "My, aren't you a smart one!" As she said this, the other women looked at each other, and then came to see what all the fuss was about.
Utena couldn't help but feel greatly relieved as her daughter turned up the charm, and had the other women wrapped around her little finger within minutes, all cooing and angling to try to play with her.
"She's six months old," Utena finally said, some of her nerves slowly being replaced with cautious hope.
"Oh, fun." Sato-san laughed. "Is she teething?"
Both mother and daughter quickly turned to look at the woman with an almost manic sort of relief in their eyes that someone understood the plight that had driven them to the park in the first place.
The woman laughed again and then sighed in sympathy. "Try a wash cloth with ice cubes. That's what worked for Taro-chan."
Utena looked down at Chikane, who looked back up at her, relief and joy clearly evident in both their eyes.
"Okay, I'll give that a try. Thank you!" Utena looked down at Chikane. "Say thank you, Chikane."
The women were all charmed when the baby girl turned to look at them, and bowed her head politely.
"Awww!"
"Oh my!"
"She's a smart one, isn't she?"
Sweatdrops appeared on their heads when the baby girl followed this up by saying, in decently articulated Japanese considering she was only beginning to grow teeth, "wordtz cammo' p'oppawy eckspwess my gwachichudze."
*6 YEARS AGO*
Utena stared out the window as she sat at the kotatsu, supporting her chin in one hand even as her other one twirled a red pen absently. Her legs were curled up under her. She had a bunch of papers stacked up beside her, but she hadn't been able to get herself to concentrate on her grading at all and the same paper had been in front of her for the last 20 minutes.
It was raining. It had been raining for the last several days.
It had been 10 years since she'd left Ohtori, 10 years since she'd awakened in a hospital, covered in injuries with a particularly nasty stab wound through her side. The nurses and doctors had stared at her in wide eyed disbelief that not only had she survived what looked like a horrific accident with a lawn mower, but that she somehow hadn't lost the embryo she didn't know she'd been carrying for the last four weeks either.
It had been 10 years since the real world taught her what forms princes and princesses and duels really took. 10 long years, grinding out the daily necessities of providing for her and hers. 10 hard years covered in dirt and blood and filth. And yet, they had not been an entirely unpleasant 10 years either.
Far from it, actually.
Compared to the tragedies that had happened in the first 10 years of her life (losing her parents to a car crash, and then her aunt to an overseas assignment), these last 10 hadn't been nearly as desolate.
There were faint sounds coming from the kitchen, and Utena turned to look in that direction. She wasn't sure what her daughter was making, but she'd been at it for a couple hours now. A faint smile came to Utena's lips.
No, things definitely could be worse. For one thing, her daughter could have been a hellion, instead of the sweetest angel to walk this earth, although, sometimes, she did act a bit (re: waaaay) more maturely than Utena was altogether comfortable with.
She just wished she'd been able to keep her promise - to the other most important person (not) in her life.
To have tea and cookies together, 10 years later.
To shine together.
Even as she thought this, her nine year old appeared from the kitchen, wearing a dark one-piece dress with bows at the shoulders over top of a white sweat shirt, her hair tied back in a ponytail to keep it out of the way. She was carrying a tray upon which she had balanced an old tea pot, cups, and a plate of what looked like Italian style ladyfinger cookies. Their family pet was perched on her shoulder, eyeing the tray she was carrying with keen interest.
Carefully, the youngster brought the tray to the kotatsu and set it down in front of her mother.
"Where did you learn to make those?" Utena asked, impressed. She hadn't had those sorts of cookies since... since Ohtori. 10 years ago, almost, to the day. Huh.
Her daughter only smiled mysteriously at her, taking the cookies off the tray and putting them on the table. Chu Chu tried to lunge for the treats, but at Chikane's admonishing, "you know those aren't for you," the monkey mouse made a small, plaintive noise and remained on her shoulder, crestfallen but obedient.
Chikane then put the two tea cups on the table too, and served the tea. She gave one cup to her mother and left the second one on the table. Then she took the tray and left, saying, "I have some homework to do in the bedroom."
"Wait, you forgot your tea," Utena said, holding out the second cup.
Chikane didn't look back. "That's not for me." She replied as she disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.
Utena stared after her daughter, blinking.
For better or worse, most of the time, she really didn't know what was going on through that girl's head. But, especially in times like these, she had learned to just go with it (or go nuts with confusion).
Smiling a soft, sad smile, she put the tea cup back on the table and then lifted her own cup to gently clink it. "Cheers." She said softly, before taking a sip.
Hey, Himemiya? Wherever you are, I want you to know, I'm shining. It's not quite how I thought I'd be doing it, but, I am. And I hope you are too.
*1 YEAR AGO*
"Happy Birthday!" Utena cried happily, pulling the small pop cannon to send a cloud of confetti directly into her daughter's face. Chu Chu, seated on her shoulder, blew loudly into a bright yellow extendable noise maker with pink streamers.
Chikane couldn't help but laugh as she waved the small bits of paper and glitter out of her face, even as she stepped through the front door of their small apartment. "Okaa-sama!" She admonished, smiling broadly. "You shouldn't have." Though she protested the surprise, it was obvious she was pleased by it.
In the living room, the kotatsu had already been set up, and there was a small white cake decorated with strawberries and a chocolate plaque that said 'Happy 15th, Baby Girl!' on it. The single candle on the cake was already lit. Utena took her daughter's school case from her and put it down before the two of them went to sit at the low table that Chu Chu had already hopped onto, her monkey eyes large and sparkly and full of stars and flowers as she stared at the cake with open anticipation and hunger.
"Make a wish!" Utena said with a laugh.
Chikane smiled fondly at her mother, even as she sat down and smoothed out the pleats of her sailor style uniform's skirt and then clasped her hands together in her lap. She closed her eyes and was still for a couple seconds, before she opened her eyes again, blue-green eyes sparkling with a complex mix of emotion – hope, happiness, and amusement – and the blew out the candle.
Utena clapped while Chu Chu blew out her noise maker again, before the pink haired woman handed the blue-black haired girl the knife and the now 15 year old cut two slices of cake and put them on plates. She handed one to her mother and kept the other one for herself.
She slid the rest of the cake in front of Chu Chu, who was wrapping a handkerchief around her neck, and then gave the monkey mouse a fork. The family pet didn't actually use the utensil; she simply inhaled the cake whole in one gulp. The cake was bigger than she was, and the monkey's tummy extended almost grotesquely to accommodate the bulk of the pastry. Chu Chu gave a sigh of satisfaction and then promptly rolled backwards onto her back, passed out in a food coma.
"I got you a present." Utena couldn't help but beam as her daughter nibbled at her cake. Chikane raised an eyebrow as she licked her lips to get at an errant crumble, and then reached out with a napkin to whip the sizable gob of cream that had somehow ended up at the corner of her mother's mouth.
"Okaa-sama," Chikane said again, "honestly, you really, really, shouldn't have."
Utena laughed. "Well, who else am I going to spoil if not you?"
On the table, Chu Chu began to snore, a snot bubble coming in and out of a nostril. Both mother and daughter ignored their pet.
Utena smiled. "It's in the bedroom."
Chuckling, the mother daughter pair went to the bedroom door, and Chikane opened it.
She immediately found herself staring into the cleavage of a pair of massive, massive breasts.
Chikane sweatdropped. Blinking a few times in shock with a bright blush across her cheeks, it took her a moment to realize that the breasts were (barely) held back by some lacey lingerie worn by a scantily clad fashion model striking a provocative pose.
"Surprise!" Utena laughed happily. "Do you like it? I got the right model, right? Shiratori Ichiko?"
"Um..." It only took Chikane a moment longer to realize what had happened: the poster was a 15x blown up picture of one of Himeko's prints that Chikane had managed to get her hands on. Her mother hadn't realized the print was near and dear to her heart, not because of the woman in the picture itself, but because of the woman who had shot and developed the print.
Utena's brilliant smile started to dim a little when it took her daughter a little while longer to respond than she had hoped. "You don't like it?"
"No, I do, I do," Chikane said hastily, still sweatdropping. "But, um, Okaa-sama, isn't it a bit, uh..." She struggled for a word that wouldn't hurt her mother's feelings, "... large? Where am I possibly going to hang it?"
"Well, I guess I didn't think that far ahead." Utena rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I dunno, maybe we could just hang it on the bedroom wall? If we take down the cork message board and move the calendar, it should fit."
Chikane raised an eyebrow. "... you're okay with sleeping beside this?" She pointed at the breasts. "Every night? And having it be the first thing you see in the morning?"
Now the sweatdrops moved to Utena's head. "... yeeeah, maybe I should have thought this through a little more."
Chikane stared at her mother incredulously for a moment, before she finally just shook her head, and laughed. "In any case, thank you, Okaa-sama. This was very thoughtf- um, I mean, this was very kind of you. I love it." She gave her mother a hug which Utena returned.
"... um, Okaa-sama?"
"Hmm?"
Chikane looked back at the picture, and blushed. "Just so we're clear, you do realize it's not the model I admire, right? It's the photographer?"
Utena sweatdropped. "Oh. Um. No." She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly again. "I just thought you were, you know, getting to that age..."
"... " With this admission, the sweatdrops then went back to Chikane's head.
*LAST WEEK*
Over the last several months, Himeno Fumi had let her peers on Fuuka's Board of Directors know that despite her feathery soft voice and kind, pleasant demeanor, the core under the velvet was made from tempered steel every bit as hard as her predecessor's had been - Kazahana Mashiro. She had served her master since she was younger than the 11 years Mashiro had looked, having been picked up as a starving orphan off the street and taught everything she knew under Mashiro's tutelage, so her style was very similar to Mashiro's own. It was in large part because of this strength that the academy had been pulled back from the brink of financial and operational ruin, and she was not about to let the other members on the board forget about this.
"Fuuka Academy is a school run by the students, for the students," Fumi said quietly, but firmly. "That is one of the core pillars that make up the foundation of this school's philosophy, and I will remind you all that it is this philosophy that we as Directors have been charged to uphold.
"Student morality and the punishment for the breaking of school rules have always been under the jurisdiction of the student council, the president of which as elected by the student body. Therefore, we would be overstepping our bounds in the matter of Himemiya Chikane's alleged misconduct if we were to prescribe the punishments that we are currently discussing. The matter belongs with the student council, and specifically with Sasaki Gennosuke, the Executive Director, and all we can and should do, is advise him in this matter."
"We aren't talking about skipping class or wearing a skirt too short!" snapped another director, Ryuunosaki Ichirou. "Himeno, the girl willfully destroyed school property - the high school music room, as well as a grand piano worth 4.5 million yen! They found her in there, after hours, a midst the wreckage and she even admitted to destroying everything! I don't have to tell you of all people that the destruction of school property was what brought Fuuka Academy to its knees last year. We simply cannot allow the consequences of such behaviour to be addressed by children – especially if the offender is the President of the student council herself. Think of the message it sends to the rest of the students!"
Fumi's eyes narrowed. She couldn't let Himemiya Chikane be expelled. It was plainly, abundantly, clearly obvious that something bad had happened to the girl on the night of the gala – worse than bad; something sinister. When she had heard that they had found Chikane by the wreckage of the piano, the dread in the pit of Fumi's stomach had been the same as the dread she had felt when they'd informed her she'd been found at the beach at the beginning of the summer. This time, however, rather than being physically hurt, what ailed the girl appeared to be internal - emotional and psychological.
Himemiya Chikane had changed over the course of the last few weeks. Kuga Natsuki had reported her worry to the rest of the Hime – that her roommate had become highly irritable, almost antisocial. Despite how open she had been initially, after the gala, she had refused to answer any more of Natsuki's questions, and had out and out started avoiding her. And though Natsuki hadn't actually told anyone about this, Fumi suspected that neither girls were sleeping in their shared room anymore (the gossip in the halls was that Chikane had stopped going back to the dorms altogether, and Natsuki had confronted her about it. They had argued quite intensely about it, with the result being Natsuki ceding the room to her younger roommate, and temporarily staying with Fujino Shizuru. This was all clearly against school policy, but Kikukawa Yukino and Fumi herself had, so far, been able to keep that under wraps).
Fumi frowned. She didn't know what had happened to Chikane, both before summer and after it, but they had to find out, and they couldn't do that if this idiotic board in front of her wanted to boot the student out of the school.
"Chikane-san will be spoken with and punished accordingly." Fumi replied tersely. "I have spoken with the other members of the student council, and their decision is to strip Chikane-san of her title and to have her replace the piano."
"But is that enough?" One of the other directors, asked, worry plain in her voice. "She is student council president, AND a Kazahana Scholarship recipient. Any misdemeanor on her part reflects poorly on the school. Should her scholarship not be stripped? Should she not be expelled?"
Fumi pursed her lips. This had been her greatest fear when the Chairman of the board had been pressured into calling this meeting. "I understand your concern. I agree with you – Chikane-san is a key representative of the school, so her behaviour must always be above reproach. When people see the white blazer, they see the leadership of Fuuka Acadamy, and it is unfortunate that this has transpired. But I ask that you not let just this one incident be the only judge of her character. Please, allow me to show you exactly the nature of the student you are asking the school to disassociate from."
The board shifted uncomfortably as Fumi called up her computer files off the school server onto the projector, went through some folders, and came across one containing several sound files. She opened one, and after a moment, beautiful strains of piano could be heard piping through the speakers in the board room.
The other board members frowned. One of them asked, "what is this, Himeno-kun?"
"As you are all aware," Fumi said delicately, "the destroyed piano was newly purchased this year, and enabled for electronic recording. As it was, it was automatically setup to record everything played on it and to spit out a sound file every day. I asked our IT folks to send me what was recorded the night the piano was destroyed, as well as for anything else unusual. What we are listening to right now is what was played that night, and we have files for what was played the last 37 times when Chikane-san accessed the music room after normal school hours, which," and here Fumi sighed, knowing she was going to take some flack for this, "I have known she'd been doing for quite some time now and had no issues with."
The board was silent as they let the chilling, haunting, pained strains of the piano continue to wash over them, looking at each other uncomfortably.
"Why are we listening to this?" Another board member asked, plainly confused and unsettled by the haunting sounds. "I mean, it's not very good, is it?"
Another member, Chiyaki Tamaki, turned to regard him with surprise. "Oda-kun, this isn't a finished piece we're hearing," he said. "I play myself, and have some experience with musical theory. What I believe we're hearing right now is straight composition, from the heart, as it were, and with all dear respect, it is exquisite."
Oda frowned, shutting his mouth.
Fumi let the music play for only a little longer, before shutting it off. "This, ladies and gentlemen," she said, this is the calibre of student you are saying makes a poor representative of Fuuka Acadamy."
The board was silent for a moment, and Fumi was beginning to feel more confident when Chiyaki made an unexpected comment that completely changed the direction of the discussion.
"Himeno-kun," Chiyaki said softly. "I might have agreed with you that expulsion was too harsh a punishment before hearing her play, but now, I'm not convinced that she belongs at Fuuka in the first place. She should be at a music college."
What the hell?! Fumi looked at the man like he had two heads. "With all due respect, Chiyaki-dono," she finally said, "that decision definitely isn't ours to make, and should have no impact whatsoever on the current discussion."
But Chiyaki had already turned to look at the last remaining board member at the table.
"What do you think, Arisugawa-kun?"
Now all attention was turned onto the newest member of the Board, who had remained curiously silent through most of the meeting, in direct contrast to the other meetings she had previously attended and very vocally, and meaningfully, contributed to.
Juri's eyes were smoldering, and it was plenty obvious to everyone else at the table that the flame haired woman had many things on her mind.
When she spoke, there was an obvious note of agitation and anger in her voice. "I regret to say that I must excuse myself in the discussion and voting of any matter related to Himemiya Chikane." She finally said, and Fumi was greatly surprised to hear this. "I have a conflict of interest with respect to her, and I do not wish to discuss the nature of it."
The flame haired woman's admission stunned the rest of her peers, who could only stare back at her.
Fumi frowned intently as the meeting threatened to be entirely derailed. "... I am afraid, Arisugawa-dono," she said, her voice apologetic, but still firm, "that as a director and instructor at this school, you are in a position of fiduciary responsibility to all of its students, and if you say that you have a conflict of interest with any one of them, then the nature of that conflict absolutely MUST be disclosed or you will be suspended from the board until further notice..."
The rest of the board murmured in agreement, all of them looking at Juri with expressions ranging from simple curiosity to downright indignation and worry.
If it was one thing they could all agree that they really didn't need, it was any sort of scandal between an adult in a position of power, and a student.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Juri spat, standing up and slamming her hands on the table top. "It's not THAT, you idiots. I'm not FUCKING her! "
The obscenity slammed into the faces of everyone in the room with the force of a sledge hammer. Fumi might have thought she was stunned before, but now, staring at the woman she respected the most in this room, she realized she hadn't known the meaning of the word until now.
Juri remained standing, her eyes still ablaze, but now also tinted by regret. Closing them, she swallowed and sat down. "I apologize for the outburst. That was unprofessional." She said quietly, her jawline visibly tight. When she opened her eyes again, Fumi could see cold fury burning in those blue-green depths. "But I reiterate, I did not have any sort of inappropriate fraternization with Himemiya Chikane. At all."
Then Juri suddenly stood up again, and walked out of the room. As she left, she said, without looking over her shoulder, "I'll send a letter of resignation in the morning."
Her announcement stunned everyone, who could only look awkwardly at one another.
Finally, the chair of the meeting spoke up. "We should take the vote now," he finally said, "before this meeting is completely overrun by any more surprises."
Fumi opened her mouth to disagree, but was overruled.
Unfortunately, Juri's absence did not make a difference. Of the remaining 6 Board members, 4 of them voted to have Himemiya Chikane stripped of her scholarship for the remaining two years of high school. It was all Fumi could do to keep the girl from being expelled immediately, but, given Fuuka's high tuition rates, it was unlikely she'd be able to finish her high school education here.
Himemiya Chikane only had until the end of the fall/winter semester left at Fuuka Acadamy, and Himeno Fumi was going to have to be the one to tell her this.
*NOW*
Fumi stared at the white envelope on her mahogany desk and Juri could tell that she was trying to will it into disintegration. When that failed to work, the Director lifted her gaze to bore into Juri's own, and not for the first time, Juri was impressed by the way steel was mixing with empathy in her olive eyes.
Juri liked the other woman. She really did. It was a pity that it had to end like this.
But it wasn't the most gut-wrenching end to an association to happen to her lately. Not by far.
"Please, Arisugawa-dono. Juri-san." Fumi said, as emphatically as possible. "I beg you to reconsider. Fuuka would be a poorer place without you."
But Juri's gaze continued to be impassive. "What is there to reconsider?" She asked quietly. "The policies in place are there for a reason, and they are good. I will not discuss my circumstances. But I am not pulling my funding either. The shareholder agreements have clauses to prevent that from happening anyway, and I do expect that the fencing programs will remain in place, even if I am no longer on the Board to ensure it."
Fumi frowned. She tried again. "Juri-"
"You don't need me here, Fumi." Juri interrupted softly. "You run a good ship, and you are capable. You'll be fine. In the meanwhile, I don't think it is in the Acadamy – or my – best interest to remain on the board. As to your offer to remain on the teaching staff, I will have to give it some thought. That's the best I can offer you right now." Juri was careful to leave a hint of steel in her tone, in case the Director tried to drag this out.
The other woman picked up on it, and gave a sigh of defeat. "Can you not at least tell me what in the world happened?"
Juri didn't say anything. She suspected that the other woman already had a vague inking of what had happened in her personal life; most of the teaching staff and administration had noticed the perpetually foul mood she was in since... since she had left. Most people who saw her coming towards them these days gave her a wide berth.
Fumi closed her eyes. "Very well," she finally conceded. "I look forward to your response then. Will you be leaving Fuuka Island entirely?"
Juri nodded. She couldn't bear to stay here anymore, though the thought of returning home to Tokyo held little attraction also. There would be so many more reminders of her once-presence there after all.
Juri got up to leave. Walking silently over to Fumi's office door, she opened it and froze.
Standing just on the other side of the door, with her hand raised as though to knock on it, was Himemiya Chikane.
For a moment, nothing else seemed to exist except for Juri herself, and the girl, the... the child who had none the less managed to steal away the best thing in her life.
Juri had to clench her fists tightly to bodily fight down the urge to strike out at the girl in front of her.
They stared at each other, the tension, the loathing between the both of them almost palpable.
And then the girl blinked, and slowly schooled her expression into one of neutrality. "Good day, Arisugawa-sensei." She said in such a monotone that it was obvious she didn't think it was a good day at all. She looked over at Fumi impassively. "You wanted to see me, Director Himeno?"
Dimly, Juri became aware that Fumi was just behind her, and for a moment, she wondered if the pink haired woman had set this up to happen, to get the two of them face to face, in order to get some sort of confirmation as to what might have transpired between them, and Juri couldn't help but feel cold fury and old paranoia threaten to rise at the possibility.
"Ah, Chikane-san," Fumi said, with such obvious heaviness and heartache in her tone that Juri realized that it could not have been the Director's intent to set them up at all; her next conversation promised to be just as dispiriting as her last one, if not more so. "Thank you for coming. I'll be right with you."
Chikane nodded tersely, and then flicked her eyes back to look at Juri, and Juri was a little startled (and maybe a little scared, though she would never admit that), to see something not quite... right... inside those murky green depths (had they always that color? And had they always been so... misshapen?).
Brushing off the unusualness of the younger girl's eyes as best she could, Juri returned that glare with more. She was reminded of how much bloody self control it had taken at the meeting with the board last week to declare her conflict of interest, rather than to abuse her position of power. She was almost regretting her decision now.
Juri's eyes narrowed, as the student council president flicked her eyes away and then tried to walk silently past her into the office. It wasn't until their shoulders practically brushed against each other did she speak, her voice low and dangerous.
"Tell me." Juri said, her voice soft, so that Fumi would not overhear.
Chikane stopped and looked out of the corner of her eyes to meet Juri's cold, cold own.
"Does your mother know she raised a home-wrecker?"
Those words hit home with the full venomous impact that they were spat out with, and Juri watched with grim not-quite-satisfaction as the student's face twisted into an expression of grief before the emotion was quickly squashed down behind a not-quite-expressionless mask. Without answering, Chikane tried to move past Juri again, but Juri grabbed her forearm tightly.
"Where is Himeko?" Juri demanded in as quiet and as hard a voice as she could manage.
Chikane glared back at Juri silently and wrenched her arm free, but before she did that, for a brief moment, Juri could see the confusion clearly on the student's face, and that was enough to tell her that the girl didn't know where Himeko was either – likely hadn't even seen her since that night – and was just as surprised to learn that the woman they both wanted wasn't with either of them.
Chikane stepped quickly into Fumi's office and shut the door behind her in the flame haired woman's face.
Juri stared at the cold wooden door up against her nose, wanting very much to fling it open, to scream, and bodily attack the one who had dared to come between herself and Himeko. She clenched and un-clenched and re-clenched her fists, multiple times.
Instead, she took a deep breath, and counted slowly to ten, before shoving her hands into her pockets, and stalking away.
Juri didn't know how she felt about this turn of events. On the one hand, maybe it was a good thing that Himeko wasn't with... with the child, but then, where could she be? Juri's heart sank into her stomach.
In the last eight months alone, Himeko had been on three different continents. She was whimsical and courageous, comfortable with going wherever the wind took her, but the problem with having spent the last decade of her life building up the courage to go to anyplace was that now, Himeko was also able to run from anything.
She could be anywhere.
Not for the first time, Fumi wished that her Mashiro-sama was with her. She wondered how her mentor, her charge, her most important person, would have handled this situation. Surely, Mashiro-sama would have found a way to make everyone happy, to allow justice to prevail.
Unfortunately, Fumi could not. Her heart ached as she delivered the news to Chikane, a girl with so much empathy and talent, she should have been able to jump as high as she wanted to in life, to reach for its very heavens, not fall into the deepest of life's pits.
Your scholarship is stripped – the next two years will be used to replace the property that was destroyed. You are also hereby impeached as well – you are no longer student council president. Kikukawa Yukino will be asked to step up in your place. Your mother will be contact shortly after this meeting, and we will discuss what we can do about the situation with tuition. I understand that it may be difficult to obtain financial aid, as this incident must be noted on your permanent record, but it may not be impossible.
Curiously, Himemiya Chikane barely had any reaction at all, the expression on her face remaining neutral and impassive, even as Fumi laid down the brutal decision that had been handed to her.
When Fumi finished speaking, Chikane simply gazed back at her with little reaction.
"I see." Was all she said.
Fumi frowned. Not for the first time, she wondered what was going on inside the student's head.
"Thank you for letting me know first, Director Himeno. I take this to mean that you have not yet told my mother?"
"Yes, that is correct." Fumi had agonized the last several days as to how best to tell the girl, how to break the news, or if she should wait and give her mother a chance to make it to the island, so that they could get the news together. In the end, she thought that the former student council president was the type of person who would appreciate knowing first.
"Will you allow me the favour of telling her first, before you contact her?" Chikane asked.
Again, Fumi nodded, feeling as though that was the least she could do.
"Thank you. I appreciate this, Director."
Quietly, the (now former) student council president stood up from her chair, and unbuttoned the front of her bone white blazer. Shrugging the uniform off of her shoulders, she draped it over the back of her chair.
Fumi felt an acute sense of loss as she watched the teenager in front of her do this.
How did things ever come to this?
Then, Chikane surprised her by undoing the buttons on the cuffs of the white collared shirt she had on under the blazer, and rolling the sleeves up to just below her elbows. She gazed at Fumi dispassionately, the expression in her eyes unreadable behind her color contacts. She spoke evenly and calmly.
"Director Himeno, you are a Hime, are you not?"
Fumi's eyes widened, stunned, and that was enough to confirm to the teenager that indeed she was.
A blue-green beam of light appeared in Chikane right hand and then winked into the shape of a bow. Her voice continued to be eerily calm. "May I please trouble you to step outside? After all, I wouldn't want this to result in any more unnecessary damage to the school."
"Chikane-san...?" Fumi trailed off, feeling bewildered, even as the entire room suddenly seemed to shift and fuzz and then completely disappeared on her. Eyes wide with alarm, Fumi quickly stood up, even as the chair and the desk she'd been sitting at disappeared.
Fumi suddenly found herself in a dark, foreboding, and desolate landscape.
There was rolling fog, and the ground was rock. Around them dotted eight, massive, stone, torii gates, each pillar wider around than a hundred year old tree. The torii gates were so tall, Fumi couldn't quite see the tops of them through the fog.
And yet, despite the fog, she had no problem seeing the swirling, malevolent crescent moon which loomed in the sky. It circled around, slowly, like a foreboding carousel.
Fumi thought she could hear familiar, maniacal laughter echoing on the winds.
Yes! That's right! Destroy the Hime! Destroy them all!
She broke out in cold sweat.
I... I know that voice.
A light-based arrow embedded in the ground less than an inch away from her foot, snapping her out of her thoughts and Fumi jerked her head around to stare at the girl who had shot it.
Her heart clenched in pain, in anguish, at what was going to happen next.
Chikane's face was an expressionless mask of neutrality. "Call your Child, Director."
The pink haired woman stared at the blue-black haired girl for a moment, before grimly reaching down to take off her high heeled shoes in anticipation of the need for mobility.
Then a small, ghostly blue flame appeared in front of her chest, as she suspected it would, if she were ever once more placed in a situation of life-threatening peril. Fumi clapped her hands over the ghost flame, and as she spread her hands outwards, she summoned her scythe. Though Fumi had never wanted to see it again, none the less, the familiar weight of the weapon in her hands brought a grim sort of satisfaction to her. She whirled it around several times, and her muscles remembered exactly how to wield it.
"Please, Chikane-san," Fumi said, even as she widened her stance into a ready position. "We don't have to do this. What is it that you are hoping to accomplish?"
"To be perfectly honest with you," Chikane replied, pointing the bow in Fumi's face, "I haven't really figured that out yet."
She loosed the arrow.
Fumi was able to cut the projectile down in mid air easily. The arrow split in two, and then disintegrated into tiny blue-green sparks. Fumi looked at the sparks grimly; they reminded her all too much of when she had lost Mashiro-sama during the last festival.
The girl loosed another three arrows in quick succession, and Fumi was able to neutralize those threats.
Chikane frowned and lowered her arm, releasing her summons on the bow, as she appeared to realize that it wasn't the best weapon to use against the scythe. But even as she did this, the outline of her body began to glow faintly, and Fumi realized it was because there was some sort of light emitting from behind her, backlighting her.
It only took Fumi a moment longer to realize that that something glowing was Chikane's back itself, and as she watched in morbid fascination, she could see the handle of a sword rise up from behind Chikane's head, from her back, between the shoulder blades.
Chikane reached up and grasped the weapon that was appearing out of her spine by the handle, bringing it forward in a slow, deliberate arch.
Fumi could see that the weapon was a short tanto knife, but even as she watched, both the handle, and the blade, continued to lengthen, and grow, and morph, even as Chikane held it firmly in her right hand. By the time the girl flicked her wrist, and brought the sword horizontally level to point to one side, the handle had grown to accommodate a two handed grasp easily – which she now switched to – and the blade was now edged and over three feet long.
The Director of Fuuka Academy swallowed, and maneuvered her feet into a position better to parry against a weapon closer in size to her own now.
They stared at each other a moment, determined olive green eyes against disturbingly blank murky green ones, before they both sprung at each other.
The parry lasted several strikes, and Fumi was amazed by the speed and agility with which the girl could use the unwieldy weapon, as though it was an extension of her own body, as though wielding the long sword was something as natural to her soul as blinking and breathing. Fumi found herself equally on the defensive as she was on the offense.
They dashed all about the landscape, sometimes using the pillars of the torii gates to spring off at one another, sometimes to use them in defense. The girl came close to connecting with Fumi a couple of times, but luckily only managed to catch her clothing.
After a while, Fumi was beginning to breathe hard, though she was glad to see that she was not the only one. The Director knew she was not someone to be trifled with, and yet, she could not shake the distinct impression that she was being toyed with somehow.
And then, suddenly, Fumi saw it – an opening. Chikane swung a little too slowly, and Fumi was able to jump up, touching the toes of one foot onto the flat side of the blade to propel herself further up into the air, even as her weight pushed the blade downwards with equal force. While in the air, she executed a flip that brought her feet to the side of a pillar, and she pushed off of that to launch herself back down at her opponent, who she counted on not expecting her to return so quickly.
Fumi swung her scythe down.
Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized that her opponent had foreseen this move, for Chikane had looked up with cool impassivity in her eyes as Fumi came at her...
... and then dropped her sword entirely, letting it clatter to the ground, leaving herself entirely unprotected.
Chikane closed her eyes.
Fumi gave a cry of dismay even as she desperately tried to stop herself in mid motion from taking the student's head clean off her shoulders. In the end, she twisted herself awkwardly, just barely missing Chikane's neck but taking a gash out of a cheek, and found herself off balance as she met the ground roughly, smacking her face and her shoulder into the ground with enough momentum to leave her dazed as she rolled badly and with such force that she felt a shoulder dislocate.
Fumi gave a cry of pain as she bounced and skidded to a stop several feet away, her scythe out of arms reach. Her right shoulder screamed in protest, and she muffled a second cry.
A shadow fell over her, and when Fumi looked up, she could see the student staring down at her with eyebrows crinkled in apology. "You should have just swung, Director." Chikane said softly even as blood welled up from the gash on her cheek and spilled downwards. "I wouldn't have blamed you."
Fumi winced as she tried to sit up and scoot away.
Chikane frowned. "Call your Child, Director."
Fumi grit her teeth. "Why do you want me to do that?" She gasped, even as she held her shoulder.
Chikane looked sorrowful, but did not answer the question. "Please, Director Himeno." She repeated herself. "I beg you. Call. Your. Child."
"No!" Fumi cried. "No. I don't know what you want out of all this, Chikane-san, but I will not-"
"You will not endanger your most important person?" Chikane asked softly. "But isn't Kazahana Mashiro already dead? What have you got to lose? It is not like you are with her anyway."
Fumi felt tears of pain well up in the corners of her eyes. She didn't have to reminded that Mashiro-sama wasn't with her anymore. She felt that loss – keenly – every day.
Chikane looked down at the woman for a moment longer, before crouching down. Grabbing the woman's arm roughly, Fumi gave a cry of pain as the student yanked up on her arm, and then Fumi's cry became even more shrill, as she heard something go 'crunch'.
But curiously, after that, her shoulder stopped hurting, and Fumi realized that the student had popped her shoulder back into place. She stared at the girl in bewilderment. "What are you doing?" Fumi asked, wearily, even as she gently, gingerly, rotated her shoulder. It was still tender.
Again, the girl did not answer. Instead, she closed her eyes. She raised a hand up into the air, and made a fist.
As Fumi watched, with a morbid sense of detachment, a giant, disembodied, vaguely mechanical looking red armoured arm and fist wavered and then appeared in the air above the girl.
When she swung it down, the fist smashed into the ground with a thunderous boom, sending dust and debris flying up into a blinding cloud of dust and Fumi would have been crushed - oh god! Mashiro-sama! - underneath the giant fist had she not felt something hit her from the side and carry her bodily out of the way.
When the dust cleared, and Fumi opened her eyes, she realized she was still being held. Looking up, Fumi felt her heart leap into her throat as she saw a familiar form holding onto her.
The form was female, very tall, and very large, with long, silver-white hair, and twin long horns protruding fearsomely out and forward from the crown of her head. She wore a white gi with red trim and torn sleeves, and a necklace and bracelets made out of large, golden, fist-sized prayer beads. Ghostly white flames flickered all around her.
Fumi's eyes widened. Her voice was very small. "... Mashiro-sama?"
Suishouhime looked down at her, and smiled fondly, and Fumi felt her heart clench even tighter in her chest. She could hear her Child's voice in her mind.
Fumi-san.
Fumi thought her heart would break upon hearing her mentor's soft, dulcet voice. "Mashiro-sama!" She breathed, hearing her voice crack. Even if it wasn't quite Mashiro-sama. Even if it was only Suishouhime.
She could remember the first time she met Kazahana Mashiro. She had run away from her foster home, and had spent the last week on the streets. She was filthy and she was starving, and her eyes were downcast with defeat as she sat on the curb of the road, people choosing to pretend they could not see her as they walked passed her.
And then she could hear the slow squeak of a wheel, and a pair of polished brown shoes supported by the base of a wheel chair appeared at the edge of her vision. Fumi looked up, and saw a pretty girl, her face framed with lavender hair, maybe the same age as she was, looking down at her fondly with almost glowing green eyes.
And then they were reminded that they were not alone, when the girl who had reunited them stepped forward.
Chikane stared at the pale haired Child. "Suishouhime." She said softly, smiling faintly. "Kazahana Mashiro. It is an honor to meet you." And then, that faint smile turned apologetic, sincerely apologetic, as Chikane pulled one arm back, and her bow and arrow appeared in her hands once more.
"I am very sorry about this."
Fumi stared in horror, as the arrow the girl had pulled back began to glow a dark ominous red, with tendrils of deep purple snaking about it. She could feel the negativity, the despair, roiling off of the projectile in waves, even from where she was being held.
She couldn't do anything as the arrow was released, and struck Suishouhime in the middle of her chest.
Underneath the library of Fuuka Academy were the remains of the Obsidian Palace, and the pillars of the fallen Hime. The pillars had been undisturbed for the last many months, since the end of the last Festival.
Now, with an ominous groan, one of the pillars slowly rumbled and rose out from the ground.
Unlike the last Festival however, the pillar did not simply rise.
It also started to darken, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until it became a deep, dark, foreboding black-purple that seemed, somehow, to glow by stealing and consuming the light and warmth around it.
On the other side of Japan, in the middle of a lesson plan, standing at the front of her classroom, Utena suddenly got very, very dizzy and collapsed to the floor. Her students rushed to her aid.
Somewhere, in a place not quite here, and not quite there, chains holding down one of eight monstrous, serpentine necks, groaned, creaked, and snapped. The one freed neck opened her eyes, and rose up.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
... because really, the only thing missing from Utena was giant robots. Oh, why did it have to be giant robots? Because I just couldn't figure out how to make sideways driving sport-cars work either (having only certain limbs show up, rather than the full mech though, is how they did things in Kyoshiro to Towa no Kuu, rather than Kannazuki no Miko proper, and I gotta say, I liked the mecha fight scenes in Kyoshiro a lot more than I did the ones in Kannazuki no Miko, so, um, yeah.)
... can anyone tell me what the bottom half of Suishouhime looks like? In Mai Otome, I know her bottom half is Miroku, but, I'm preetty sure that's not how she looks in Mai Hime...
(EDIT: 'Glaive' has now been changed to 'scythe' in this chapter, as I discover there is a difference between the two.)
2 of the 3 following Omake (well, okay, 3 of the 3) were inspired by DezoPenquin's hilarious (and insightful) comments in the reviews. Thank you Dezo! XD
The next chapter will probably be out between March 31, 2013 - April 4, 2013. I should have a better indication around mid next week!
Cheers,
jen-chan
jen-chan-shaw. livejournal. com
OMAKE I: Not Really A Mai-Hime Style Preview of Next Episode – Part I (Please blame this one on DezoPenquin!)
[CHIKANE's voice can be heard doing the voice over top of a series of fast paced clips edited together very confusingly and with deliberate misrepresentation so brazen^H^H^H^H^H actually, scratch all that. There are no clips at all. The scene is JURI's bedroom. There are two forms under the blanket. CHIKANE sits up, holding the blanket up to her otherwise bare chest as she sleepily and blurrily does the voice over.]
CHIKANE: Next time, on Revolutions, a Kannazuki no Miko, Revolutionary Girl Utena and Mai Hime X-over... AAAH!
JURI: [Bolts upright in bed beside CHIKANE. She is equally naked.] What's going – AAAAH!
CHIKANE: AAAH! What are you doing here?!
JURI: What am I doing here? This is MY bed! What are YOU doing here?!
[They both stare at each other and then remember just how completely and absolutely PISSED DRUNK they were in the last omake.]
CHIKANE: ...! [Blushes bright red]
JURI: ...! [Buries her head in her hands] Dammit! Didn't I JUST tell the board in this chapter I DIDN'T do this?!
[Just then, the bedroom door opens and HIMEKO sticks her head in holding a spatula and wearing an apron. Only an apron – nothing else.]
HIMEKO: Hey, sleepyheads! Geez, it's about time you both woke up! I make breakfast. [Disappears back into kitchen]
CHIKANE & JURI : O_O!
[CHIKANE & JURI slowly turn their heads to look at each other with expressions flip flopping between dumb-founded stupefaction to fascinated appraisal.]
JURI: ...?
CHIKANE: ... Sorry. But I am NOT very good with sharing...
JURI: Nuts. There goes the thinking-outside-of-the-box third option.
OMAKE II: Not Really A Mai-Hime Style Preview of Next Episode – Part II (This one is still Dezo's fault, in a long, round-about way.)
[CHIKANE's voice can be heard doing the voice over top of a series of fast paced clips edited together very confusingly and with deliberate misrepresentation so brazen^H^H^H^H^H actually, scratch all that. There are no clips at all. The scene is JURI's apartment bedroom. There are two forms under the blanket. CHIKANE sits up, holding the blanket up to her otherwise bare chest as she sleepily and blurrily does the voice over.]
CHIKANE: Next time, on Revolutions, a Kannazuki no Miko, Revolutionary Girl Utena and Mai Hime X-over... AAAH!
JURI: [Bolts upright in bed beside CHIKANE. She is equally naked.] What's going – AAAAH!
CHIKANE: AAAH! What are you doing here?!
JURI: What am I doing here, oh, for chrissake, now the author's just being lazy with the copy/pasta. It's not like the word count in this chapter isn't ridiculous already!
[Both CHIKANE and JURI look towards the door and wait for HIMEKO to pop her head in so they can grill her with questions. A tawny haired head pops in through the door, but it's not HIMEKO.]
SHIZURU: [Wearing only apron and holding spatula] Ara, ara, why are you two still in bed? Are you continuing on without me?
CHIKANE & JURI : O_O!
CHIKANE: [Stares at JURI] What the hell were we drinking last night?
JURI: [Looks at the bottle] 900 Billion X Red Wine, apparently...
OMAKE III: Not Really A Mai-Hime Style Preview of Next Episode – Part III (So this one prooobably isn't Dezo's fault... Okay, maybe a little.)
[CHIKANE's voice can be heard doing the voice over top of a series of fast paced clips yadda yadda yadda. Continuing with the previous omake, both CHIKANE and JURI open their eyes and stare at each other silently. They cautiously sit up in bed.]
CHIKANE: ...
JURI: ...
[They both turn to look at the bedroom door in horrified anticipation. The door eventually opens, and HARUKOW and NANAMOO stick their heads in. How cows can put aprons on, and hold onto spatulas without thumbs or fingers is beyond me but they do it.]
HARUKOW & NANAMOO: Moooou.
CHIKANE & JURI: O_O!
[Suddenly, the scene cuts to a nondescript woman sitting at a computer typing wildly. The bed that CHIKANE and JURI were laying on suddenly comes FLYING THROUGH THE WALL and flips onto the woman, CRUSHING EVERY BONE IN HER BODY.]
AUTHOR: Ow. Sorry. Please stay tuned for the next chapter of Revolutions, Chapter 13 – 'Phone Calls to the Edge'.