Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Memory of the Rose ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

The Memory of the Rose



Chapter One

O Rose, thou art sick.
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy.
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
- The Sick Rose, Blake




It hurt, oh gods how it hurt. The ripping pain that seared its
way through her like a dark dagger in her chest. But it burned
not just within her chest; the pain worked its way through her
legs, her torso, her neck. The afternoon light burned as she
jerked under so many sharp points of fact- in the end, she had
won, but at what cost?

Sweat and blood dripped down her legs, down her arms, soaking
into the red of her socks and turning them scarlet. Coughing
feebly, she pressed both hands to the marble floor below her
slender fingers, pushing upwards with all her might. She had to
escape, had to leave this horrible, evil place.

She had failed. The knowledge was heavy; even as she struggled
to escape the collapsing world around her, she wept. Her lips
formed soundless words; they were silent pleas to the gods to let
it all have been a miserable dream.

And in the end only her perseverance saved her sorry hide. Sheer
determination forced Utena down those steps and out the front of
the gate. Mulishness and nothing more kept her broken and bloody
body moving as she limped away from Ohtori.

Surprisingly enough, despite the dire condition she was in, Utena
had somehow managed to stumble four miles to the freeway.

"Someone," she cried as she trudged along; each step another
agonizing stab in her side, "please, if you're listening, save
Anshi. She didn't deserve that, really. God, anyone,
please...please..."

No answer. Sorry the Almighty isn't home right now; please leave
a prayer at the beep.

Beep.

Utena wept openly now as she stumbled along, blood dripping down
her legs, watering the hard, unyielding asphalt below. It was in
such a sorry condition that she finally gave up and let herself
fall forward onto the open freeway just outside of the town
Ohtori inhabited.

The rest came to her in the jumbled non-sequence of the severely
injured or the mentally unbalanced. A scream, the keening wails
of horns blaring, icy hands running along her sides, a warm
cocoon around her body. Forcing one eye open she saw a god-like
man in checkered plaid kneeling by her side. His denim-clad knee
was inches from her face; she could smell coffee from the drying
stain on his upper thighs. He must have spilled it when I fell in
the road, she thought dreamily. I hope he didn't burn himself.

He was praying as he ran hands over her arms and legs. The words
fell on her like a benediction: Please God, don't let this kid
die, not on my shift. Please God, don't let this kid die, not on
my shift. Please God, don't let this kid die, not on my shift.
The words soon ran together until all she heard was the mute
plea- don't let her die. Please, just don't let her die.

Utena could barely hear his jumbled words now; he was whispering
and probably didn't even realize he was crying as well. She felt
a grim sort of sadness for the man, a kind of silent
satisfaction, and did her best to comfort him.

Her right hand budged an inch.

It was the best she could do.





Nine Years Later


It had finally stopped pouring down rain and as the girl slid her
last bag into the passenger seat she felt a strange sense of
release fill her up.

She was finally leaving.

She was finally going out into the real world.

She was so scared.

One more box to go. As she leaned forward to set it at the back
of the car -buckling it in for safety's sake, theree were ten
years worth of breakable mugs in there- the short wisps at the
front of her hair swept forward and brushed her cheeks. For
years and years she'd always kept her hair in the same mundane
style, a high ponytail with two tendrils just in front of her
ears. But only yesterday Wakaba had gone to the salon. Her long
ponytail had come down and the scissors had come out. She'd
emerged a completely different person.

It had been amusing that Tatsuya's mouth gaped at the graduation
dinner and rather cute that the Chairman of the Board had nodded
his head approvingly when she'd received her diploma, but that
wasn't all of it. Mostly it was the fact that the style was so
similar to hers.

In truth, Wakaba barely remembered the friend she'd had all those
years ago, the pink-haired girl who'd shown up about a month
after Wakaba's eighth year at Ohtori had started and who left
about a month before graduation to the high school. No, that
wasn't quite right either; Wakaba remembered her in her dreams.
In the space between dreams she remembered running as fast as she
could to catch up with the mysterious girl, but never quite
matching her speed, watching helplessly as she slipped away into
the mists.

Wakaba had been so heartbroken when she just disappeared that
day, she did remember that much. It had taken her weeks and
weeks to finally come to the realization that the girl wasn't
coming back. That she'd left without ever even saying goodbye.
What had been her name again? U-something, she thought.

Nevertheless, Wakaba had glared at the Student Council members
for months and months afterward, even her dear Saionji, certain
that they had something to do with her friend's disappearance.
Especially the Council President, he'd always been hanging about
and making- what was her name again? - well, just making her life
absolutely miserable when he showed up.

Wakaba locked her car and took a quick stroll around the campus.
There was the window she used to surprise Tetsuya by. There was
the strange birdcage garden that had belonged to that spooky
girl, Himemiya Anshi. Wakaba paused by it a moment. They'd
changed it a great deal- knocking out the glass and replacing it
with lattices. All the odd colored rose bushes had been dug up;
only the red, pink, and white ones remained now. There was even
a wrought iron bench students didn't like sitting on in the
center of the cage; bushes that never bloomed flanked it, and
without the expert hand of the Dean's little sister, all the
roses now grew wild.

Shivering at the sight, Wakaba hurried on. It was time to go;
she'd spent too much time reminiscing. It had been best that
she'd decided to start her career in a different city, she
decided as she rushed back to her car. Oh well. The past was
gone; there was no use dragging it up now. Ohtori loomed over the
city below like a horrible black beast at times, despite all its
pretty lights and sweeping architecture.

It was disturbing to find a secret part of her didn't want her to
leave, that wanted to remain safe here forever. Pausing a few
feet away from her car, Wakaba shivered. Had that been what
chased them all off, those leaders of her middle years at Ohtori?
She'd always been in the shadows watching them go as they left
Ohtori one by one for various reasons. Had they in reality not
wanted to go but made themselves for fear of never leaving? It
was a sobering thought.

With a click, she unlocked the door. The car was finally packed;
she couldn't stay here any longer. Wakaba stepped back and took
one last lingering look around. She self-consciously patted her
hair once more and slipped into her car. It was finally time to
be someone special, to be someone really noticed.

Goodbye creepy Ohtori, of bells and short teal skirts-
-Hello...
World.


Akio watched as the last Black Rose Duelist slipped into her car
and drove away. She'd had no idea he'd been watching her from
his tower, watching her with her hair so much like Tenjou's and
longing for the past. Just that week, Nanami's last little
henchman had requested a transfer to their London branch. He'd
gotten it without the usual questions asked; Akio had been almost
violent in his agreement to get Tswabuki in another country.

He wanted no more memories of the fool he'd been lingering
around, and even the slender thread of the Black Rose Duelists
reminded him daily of his foolish plans and desires. They were
all gone, from the first Student Council member to the last Black
Rose Duelist. Even Kanae had left him after only a year of
marriage, despite her aristocratic parent's protests that no one
in their family had ever gotten a divorce. He'd been too cold to
her, so she just packed her bags and left. He heard she'd
eventually ended up somewhere in Europe, painting wide sweet
canvases of Ohtori and the surrounding grounds. He'd even gotten
his hands on one, a nightmarish dreamscape of the dueling arena
no one but those who'd fought in it would recognize. But even
there, in the foreground, was a slender, twisted figure in black
and red with a wild disarray of pink for her hair and one slick
streak of silver held aloft to the sky. He'd grimaced at the red
monster off to the side, with dark skin and hateful green eyes,
staring so coldly at him with a bug-like intensity. Akio had
always known Anshi's attitude towards Kanae had disturbed his
fiancé, but he'd never quite realized how much until then. She'd
truly seen his sister as a monster, a horrible beast with dead
eyes and a cold soul.

In a way, he supposed it was good she was gone; Kanae's presence
would be just as bad as an altar to his foolish pride. He'd
chosen her over Utena, he'd chosen his coffin over life, he'd
chosen to be the dark angel of myth to the bright god of his
past.

He'd chosen being a monster over being a man.

What could it have been like to be the Victor in the end? What
would it have been like to see your best friend go plummeting
into the shadowy abyss; to watch as your fingers, your
pale-skinned hands, normally so strong and sure in everything you
did let her slip away finger by dark finger? What would it have
been like to then hear the heavy humming of your destiny as it
ripped downwards and speared your body with a million swords of
hatred and despair? He'd never truly known the bite of cold steel
the way she or Anshi had; he'd always just born his duty as a
prince in stoic silence until the day Anshi had locked the good
in him away. Until the day she'd saved him from himself.

It was true you could be too selfless. In the end, when the
illusion had shattered around him and he'd seen Utena limp away
he'd still wanted to call to her, to pull her battered body close
to his and soothe away her now-endless pain with the kisses of
his lips. But then the world had come to a screeching halt and
she was gone beyond his reach, beyond his world.

Akio laid his forehead against the cool glass and sighed. It was
done, she was gone. No more of his history strolling about the
campus enjoying the fresh air and the coming winter. No more of
it at all.

Anshi had left the day he suggested renewing the duels. He
didn't blame her now, but at the time he'd been so shocked, so
surprised that his sister would defy him, -him-, her brother and
the only one who truly understood the darkness of her secret
self. But she'd gone nevertheless and he'd been left to wander
Ohtori like a ghost.

Even now, he looked similar to how he did all those years ago.
He could easily pass for a man of twenty-six or so, despite his
real age. All the students of Ohtori had that selfsame ageless
quality about them, including the one who'd just left, Wakaba.
She was at least twenty-three or twenty-four, but to an outsider
she might pass for seventeen at most. It would fade eventually,
it always did, but for the next few years there would be comments
behind whispered hands, how the newest member of the law firm
looked just too young to be nearing her mid to late twenties.
Her logic would be impeccable on the courtroom floor, she would
bend the jury's will to her own, but even as they marveled at her
brilliance in oratory, they would be secretly wondering her true
age.

Grinning mirthlessly to himself, Akio moved away from the window
and returned to his desk. A magazine was hidden somewhere under
the mountain of paperwork, and though he had better things to do,
Akio searched it out. He stared long and hard and the beauty on
the cover and let his mind drift for a moment.

Juri.

She was in the final years of her modeling career and had already
made a name for herself as a designer, he knew. The world begged
her each season to design something different, something daring,
but only those duelists would know that no matter how distinctive
the design, they all had the same boxy shoulder look of a duelist
uniform, the same epaulettes peeping somewhere on the costume.

None of them had truly forgotten, though their memories were
vague. None of them would ever truly remember though, no matter
how many stories were dragged up. For them to remember he would
have to search out the Victor.

He would have to revive the Duels.

He would burn in Hell first.

A knock on the door brought his mind away from its wanderings.
Frowning a bit, Akio rose and answered it himself. His secretary
should have buzzed him, this better be damn important.

"Hello, Akio-san." The figure in the doorway smirked as Akio
stepped back in surprise. He tried to keep his cool but sensed he
was failing miserably as his guest sauntered into the room and
sat down on the couch with the same old familiarity, tilting
backwards to look at the faux stars painted high above. "Nothing
much has changed I see."

Akio stood a little taller and firmly stamped on the cold fear
creeping into his heart. He never would have believed any of
them would return of their own volition once they had escaped,
but apparently he was incorrect. "It's been a long time."

"Indeed," murmured his guest, his ghost. "Too long. How have
you been?"

Shrugging in his old noncommittal way, Akio tried on a dashing
smile. It didn't fit quite right on his face, so he dropped it.
"I've been much better. But I'm wondering why you're here."

The figure shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh the usual. Seduction,
Sensation, Sin." The last was said with a baring of teeth that
suggested a smile. Akio felt nauseated as the specter continued.
"I'm here to take Ohtori from you. Hope you don't mind too
terribly much. There's a lot to be done around here and you're
wasting Ohtori's potential like this."

This time the surprise on the Dean's face was so genuine that his
guest broke out into merry laughter. "Why, Akio-san, I do
believe I've startled you."

He shrugged, forcing calm once more. He was the master at
manipulating people at Ohtori, not this arrogant shadow from his
past. He couldn't let the taunts get to him; he'd imagined a
confrontation like this too many times in his mind to let it
rattle him now. He couldn't let his weakness show; not now, not
ever. Not to her. "Not really. But what would you want with a
run down school like Ohtori anyway?"

The figure chuckled. "Oh Akio-san. Ever the optimist. I want
the same thing you wanted- to be a prince again if only in the
eyes of that one special someone. I want eternity. And you can
give it to me." The figure moved with a fluid grace that was so
quick Akio barely had a chance to notice the shadow on the wall
move before the knife was at his throat and the envelope in his
hand. "You will help me too, or I will kill you."

He'd had a feeling that was what this shadow from his past was
after. Akio did not snort- to do so was far too undignified- but
he did glare a bit. "Then go ahead and do it," he said. "But
I'm not helping you."

"Oh, boo-hoo," taunted his guest as a bare hand devoid of ring
flashed in the dim lights of the observatory, "Akio's not afraid
to die? Pathetic." Lips brushed his cheek and Akio shuddered at
their touch. This was going much too far. This was not the
person he recognized, the person he had twisted worlds around to
manipulate. Of course he had manipulated them all, every one of
them until the very end, until she had saved them. Until he'd
failed to save himself. But this was not the student he
remembered, this was inherently wrong on so many levels as to be
ludicrous. This was not how the story was supposed to go.

His guest pressed the knife a little closer and ran the edge of
the envelope down his neck, eliciting a barely concealed tremor.
Lips brushed his earlobe; hot breath rushed over his ear. "There
are worse things than dying Akio-san. You and your sister are
very, very well acquainted with that fact. So I want you to sign
the new letters as 'The Ends of Innocence' all right? We have
around nine months to spare, but for what I want to do that's not
much. The way I see things, a new candidate for the coven of the
damned Rose Brides was born quite awhile back. She's coming of
age, Akio-san. We'd better prepare, yes?"

Akio couldn't stop the sneer of revulsion as lips nipped at his
ear; yet at the same time he felt his body grow taut beneath the
sharp scrape of teeth. "I am not going to do this, and you know
it. Just use the damn dagger all right? Put me out of your
misery."

A low throaty chuckle purred its way across his senses and Akio
closed his eyes and tried to shut down his rampaging libido as
the dagger slid down his chest, popping buttons away one by one.
"Yes, Akio, you are. Even if I have to tie you up or lock you
under Nemuro Memorial Hall...yes, you will help me gain eternity.
You might even like it. You did before, if I remember correctly.
You liked it to the end if I recall. So yes, you should want
this. You want what I have; which is information on those you
seek, as well as what we had before. I'm willing to offer both
freely; all I ask is that you quit sniveling and grow up."


As the cool edge of the metal slid the final two inches down his
shirt, Akio heard a sound he -much like Anshi before him- would
quickly learn to despise: the sound of the shutters on the high
windows dropping down.

It was only after cool muscled thighs draped across his own and
warm breath whispered in his ear that Akio began to truly be
terrified of what he'd done so long ago. His arms tightened
momentarily around the pale body sprawled across his chest and he
shuddered in fear. At first he thought he was the only one
culpable for his decisions but here was living, breathing,
blackmailing proof of how wrong he'd been. Oh how very wrong
indeed.




"That'll be two bits miss," murmured the heavy man behind the
cart. The lovely woman nodded and took out the spare change,
listening to the rattle of strange coins in her pockets as she
took the first ginger sip of the steaming coffee. "Keep the
change," she smiled, handing the vendor a dollar and turning
away. It was already freezing out; the weather had changed so
suddenly, to the surprise of many. Snow drifted lazily down on
Central Park and she smiled sadly. How long ago had it been
since she'd been here last? At least seven years. She supposed
it was time to go home. Eight months and six days from now eleven
years would have passed since she'd left Ohtori that time.
Besides, Anshi desperately wanted to see if Utena would remember
her letter and her promise to return.

Not that she would blame her if she didn't. Anshi had carried
around the weight of the swords for years; she knew how their
burden could wear on a person both physically and mentally. She
herself had often needed days of bed rest in order to just make
it through the entire month without collapsing. But still, she
hoped.

In a way she reminded herself of that boy, Mamiya-the real one-
not her pale imitation. She used to be so weak and it was only
after the fire that she gained the strength, though her fire was
of a most definitely different nature. Hers was the scouring
flames of the Phoenix; his had merely been the crackle of a
burning building, complete with one hundred handpicked sacrifices
to science trapped within.

It was October now; she was so close.

Ten years. She'd spent over ten years searching for Utena,
longing to give comfort to her prince, desiring nothing more that
to see that head of pink hair just once more. There had been
several close calls over the years; she'd arrive in a city or
town where her contact had sent her, go to the apartment or
hotel, only to find that the woman she'd been searching for had
left a few days before. Even on their ten-year reunion a
carefully penned letter and a promise to meet a year later had
dashed her hopes. Thus Anshi had learned to live with
disappointment. But it didn't stop her from dreaming.

She supposed Utena had gotten married or something- over the
years, Anshi herself had not. Miki called occasionally; she kept
in touch with her favorite genius and as each week passed she
wondered if perhaps she was being fair to him. He'd loved her
since middle school; even now he waited patiently for her to
finish her quest so he could propose. Anshi supposed she loved
him enough to settle down, -if anyone Miki was a more than
adequate choice- but in her heart she still wanted to see Utena
once more before agreeing on something so important to her life.

Anshi closed her eyes; she could practically hear Utena's voice
if she tried, the rich alto quietly chastising her for not being
an individual, for depending so much on her title as the Rose
Bride.

"The thing I hate most is when people don't take care of
themselves," Utena's voice rebuked in her mind. "You need to
take better care, Yui!"

Anshi snapped out of her daydream with a start. Yui?

The voice continued, the familiar alto rising and falling as the
words slipped past Anshi to their intended target. In all truth,
the woman was afraid to turn, terrified that if she did and this
woman's voice was not Utena she would lose it right then and
there. It had been so long...

She needn't have worried.

Utena was still unbelievably slender and tom-boyishly beautiful.
Her pink hair was caught back in a braid that fell to her hips,
but she kept the front the same as always; soft layers and bangs
clinging to her forehead and cheeks along with a faint shimmer of
snow. "Utena," Anshi whispered, shocked. Her heart was
hammering away a mile a minute, but apparently that still wasn't
loud enough, as Utena scooped up a small child of perhaps four
and began to walk away. She hadn't heard the soft, shocked
whisper.

She was getting away. Anshi gasped aloud and began rushing after
her. "Wait! Wait! Tenjou! Utena Tenjou! Wait, Tenjou-san!"

Utena turned, a small frown forming between her eyebrows. "I beg
your pardon? Were you talking to me?"

Anshi stumbled to a stop. How could she have been so foolish-
this woman obviously wasn't Utena. Her hair was just a faded
strawberry blond; her eyes were a vibrant blue, but not quite the
same color. "Gomen," Anshi whispered softly, casting her eyes
down to the dirty snow at her feet. "I...I thought you were
someone else."

The woman smiled softly and laughed, a rich and lovely sound.
"That's okay, I get it a lot. Don't worry about it. Have a good
holiday."

Anshi nodded numbly and turned away. She couldn't help the
frustrated tears that slipped down her cheeks as she clenched and
unclenched her hands. This was ridiculous, she was twenty-four
years old; she shouldn't be so upset over a little case of
mistaken identity. In the distance she heard the young girl
speaking to her mother and Anshi had to smile at the words:
"Mommy, why was that lady crying? Did she hurt herself?"

What did come as a surprise, however, was that the woman listened
to her daughter and returned. "Excuse me, Ma'am?"

Jumping a little under the gentle hand on her shoulder, Anshi
quickly swiped her hand across her cheeks to wipe away the tears.
"Yes?"

The woman bowed a little and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry for
bothering you, but Yui was concerned about you and..." She broke
off and coughed a little, a small flush working its way across
her cheeks. "You seemed lost. Maybe I can help you find this
Utena Tenjou. It's the least I can do since you seem to be new
in town."

Anshi shook her head. "Oh, no, I couldn't..."

"Nonsense," the woman chided, taking Anshi's arm and threading it
with her own. "Why don't we go to a nice little bakery I know
close to here and you can tell me where you've looked already,
and maybe we could find your friend?"

Unexpectedly warmed by the woman's gentle grace, Anshi smiled
softly. "Thank you," she murmured, and made a face at the little
girl trundling blissfully alongside her mother. Yui giggled and
Anshi thrilled at the gleeful sound.

How many years would pass before she would have a child of her
own? To be honest she'd never really thought much on it, but in
her heart of hearts, Anshi knew it would probably never happen.
Her entire life she'd spent living for her brother, then after
she left, looking for Utena. Much may have changed, but never
that. Anshi knew that Utena would want her to live her own life
eventually, but Anshi just couldn't forget her savior that
easily.

"Here we are," announced the woman, and Anshi blinked in
surprise. She had been woolgathering much too long; they must
have walked five blocks without her noticing the distance at all.

"It's lovely," she murmured as they entered the warm shop. The
neighborhood bakery her new friend had brought her to was
actually a bakery-deli combo. There were art deco paintings on
the wall and even three threadbare comfy couches nestled in the
far corner next to a happily brewing coffeepot. Their feet
clicked across inlaid wooden floors buffed to a warm and homey
shine. The handsome willowy blond behind the counter smiled
warmly at them as they entered and wiped his hands on a paper
towel. The fresh, yeasty smell of the bread made Anshi's stomach
growl with appreciation and at the sound the young woman at her
side laughed merrily. "Hungry?"

Anshi ducked her head and laughed a bit. "I suppose I am. I
just ate but...well, one roll wouldn't hurt, would it?"

"Of course not," the woman laughed. "Make it two and the usual,
Adam."

The teenager behind the counter nodded. "Sure thing, Miss
Nurri."

"Nurri?" Anshi was glad to hear the woman's name. Now she had a
name to go with the gentle, warm face. "Arrigato, Nurri-san for
your kindness."

Nurri-san stuck her tongue out at Anshi in a very childlike
manner. "Now, now, none of that 'san' business. I left Japan
when I was a kid, I don't intend to go back and play 'I'm more
lowly than you' game. Call me Yamika."

"But," Anshi protested, "I-"

Yamika frowned. "No. And that's final."

Smiling a bit in consternation, Anshi finally nodded. "As you
wish, Yamika. But I insist you call me Anshi."

"What a lovely name!" Yamika exclaimed as she settled Yui into
the child's booster seat and the waitress set a steaming bowl of
fondu in front of them. Anshi glanced quizzically at the food
and Yamika laughed. "Oh, don't worry. This is my cousin's shop.
He always sends out the 'gajin side of the family' cheese fondu
to go with the bread bowl and rolls. It's his favorite recipe to
torment me and my chubby thighs with. Eat to your heart's
content, it's on the house."

Her stomach growled once more and Anshi laughed happily. There
was something about this woman that struck a familiar chord
within her. She might not be Utena, but many of her mannerisms
and kindnesses were similar. It caused a small pang deep within
the retired Rose Bride even as it warmed her heart. As she dug
into the hot mess of cheese and spices she sent up a quiet wish
to whatever nearby gods that might be listening: Please, please
let me find her. Just one clue, that's all I ask.

Somewhere, someplace, someone must have been listening.

"Adam!" cried a young girl of about nine who rushed into the shop
fresh from school. Long pink-tinted lavender locks spilled in
waves down her back, nicely complementing her pale coffee au late
complexion and scarlet jumper to perfection.

"Adam, Adam, Adam!!"

"Shush, Sari-chan," laughed the boy. "You'll disturb the
customers."

But it wasn't just the sudden arrival of the noisy child that
drew Anshi's attention. It was the way the light played upon the
necklace draped around the child's neck. The very shiny silver
necklace. The very shiny silver necklace with a ring dangling
from the end of it. The very shiny silver necklace with a
swaying, dangling rose-embossed ring.

Anshi felt faint.

The teenager, Adam, moved from around the counter and swung the
child in a high circle above his head. "Did you miss me, you
scamp?"

Sari giggled merrily. "Of course I did!"

Setting her down on the floor, he called to the back: "Hey,
Mister Saccaba? My kid sister's here! Can I go on my break?"

A hand waved from around the corner and Anshi almost laughed at
the sight of it. Yamika smiled and said, "He is so busy he just
nods or waves at everything. But when he takes a break, he'll
come visit with us. How's the fondu?"

Anshi nodded, as her mouth was full. She kept an eye on Adam and
Sari as she wiped a little bit of cheese off her chin. "It's
wonderful. I've never tasted better."

Yamika nodded towards Adam and his sister. "You seemed surprised
when she came in. She reminds you of someone too?"

This was said with a teasing grin, but Anshi forced down a pang
of regret at the words. But it was more than just regret; it was
a shiver of foreboding and a momentary overwhelming sense of
fright.

"Actually," Anshi murmured, desperately ignoring the way her
heart was hammering away in her chest, "she does a bit.
Utena...the woman I'm looking for...well, if she and someone I
knew had a child, she would look quite a lot like that little
girl over there."

Yamika frowned at the words. "I wish you knew who that poor
little girl belonged to." She put another bite of cheese-dipped
bread in her mouth and chewed complacently while she watched her
own daughter stuff herself on bread. When she had swallowed she
sighed. "Sari and Adam are both orphans at St. Christopher's.
My cousin wants to hire her to do some small work in the back
like sweeping so she can start saving money for professional
ballet lessons at some fancy dance academy. He'd pay it himself,
but St. Christopher's is very strict on those sorts of things.
The best he can do is offer the kids there part time and summer
jobs in the bakeries and stores he owns."

A strange feeling was working its way through Anshi's stomach as
Yamika spoke. This was sounding oddly familiar, and she didn't
like it one bit. "Orphans?"

Yamika nodded. "Yeah. I know Sari's story personally, she's in
my English class at the school."

Swallowing heavily, Anshi mustered her willpower and did
something she hadn't done in years; she drew deep within her and
found the one remaining bit of magic she had left. "Tell me
everything."

At the quiet words, Yamika turned to her guest with a frown.
"Now look, Anshi, you may be interested in the girl but I can't
just..." Her rebuttal was met with the cool green gaze of the
witch one bright and innocent prince had freed over ten years
before. The words faded away and Yamika blinked sleepily.
"Everything?"

Anshi nodded. "Everything."



Sari snuggled closer to Adam and tried to steal a bite of his
sandwich off his plate. She loved Adam as much as anyone she
knew, and it wasn't just because he was handsome and kind and
wonderful. She loved Adam because he was her prince. Oh, yes,
she knew he thought of her as a kid sister despite the fact they
were both orphans and neither one of them had a single relative
left in the world. It didn't matter to her; Adam would always be
her prince.

She'd known this since the day she'd started school, and Adam had
saved her from rabid dogs on the playground. One moment she'd
been down on her knees picking up a dropped notebook, the next
she'd been in the air, caught in the strong arms of a nine-year
old boy as he pelted across the hot asphalt. Sari hadn't cried-
she'd been surprised to say the least, but even as the strange
boy ran faster and faster she felt no fear, only a sense of
safety and security. They had come thundering up to the front
door of the school and he'd practically dived through, still
clutching Sari to his chest. The sliding glass door slammed
behind them and less then two seconds later there had been a
heavy thump as the first of the dogs rammed headfirst into the
glass. Adam had been breathing heavily, but Sari could tell it
was more from triumph that exertion. It was at that moment she
fell madly, desperately, and completely in love. Only princes
ran that fast and were so strong, just ask anyone.

He'd turned to her and said, "Hey kid, you'd better be more
careful. You were almost Chow Mix back there."

Sari had just given him what Yamika-momma liked to call her
assessing look. It was a look that said, 'I'm looking you over
right now. Please hold.' He had shifted uncomfortably and Sari
decided to let him off the hook. "Why would I want to do that
when I have you to protect me?" She smiled her gap-toothed grin
and he'd first looked at her like she was nuts, then began
laughing.

Sari had worshipped him since, to his embarrassment and his
friend's endless amusement. It didn't matter much, she knew how
special someone like Adam was and wasn't about to let dumb boys
keep her away from her one true love. There was only a four and
a half year difference between her and Adam, not long in the
larger scheme of things, and come hell or high water, Adam would
one day be hers. Now what to do to keep him from other girls
until then, that was the difficult part.

Sari sighed and snuck another sideways glance at him. Adam would
always see her as a little girl as long as she remained one. He
was so old already; fourteen almost fifteen, and she wouldn't be
turning ten until December.

She smiled secretly and glanced around the shop as Adam ate. Her
eyes caught on a strange and lovely woman sitting beside
Yamika-momma's side and Sari couldn't help staring a little in
surprise.

The woman's hair was the most striking shade of purple Sari had
ever seen and her skin could have been a darker shadow of Sari's
own. She even had a bindi in the middle of her forehead like
those exotic women in the history books. Sari self-consciously
brushed her slender hand across her forehead. When she'd seen
those pictures all those years ago she'd so desperately wanted to
have a bindi and a scarlet robe and be an exotic and foreign
princess like those women. That is, until she'd found out that
the bindi represented what caste a person came from and that it
could just as easily mean she was subservient to a ton of people,
never to be allowed to rise any higher than the position she was
born in. If anything, Sari did not believe in subservience. She
was an equal opportunity girl all the way and always had been.

Sari continued checking out the stranger, waiting for her prince
to finish his tuna sub. There was something so stylish and
serene about the woman- not to mention graceful- that drew the
eye. The woman had on a jacket the same garish red of Sari's
jumper and a black beret set on her tumbling waves at a jaunty
angle. Even her long black skirt seemed to shift with a
conscious grace and ease that Sari envied in her heart of hearts.
But it was more than that; there was something so sad about the
way the woman held herself too. Had she been hurt a long time
ago by a lover or a friend and was just now beginning to heal?
Sari knew that she had an overactive imagination when it came to
such things, but she couldn't shake the feeling that her
intuition was correct on that count at least. The woman was
damaged in some distinct and important way that just wasn't
visible to the naked eye, and Sari ached for her.

"You're being awfully quiet today, Squirt."

Sari jumped at the voice and returned her attention to Adam.
"Maybe you just couldn't hear me over the sounds of you making a
pig of yourself."

Adam stuck his tongue out at her and Sari responded in kind. The
two tried to stare one another down and finally the blond boy
gave in with a laugh when Sari's hand snuck out and tickled him.
"Hey! That's cheating, you know."

Sari shrugged. "All's fair in love and war," she saucily replied
and winked. Then her eyes were drawn back to the stranger like
moths to a flame. "Hey, Adam, what's that woman doing here?"

Her erstwhile prince shrugged. "I don't know. She just came in
with Yamika and they ordered some food. I don't keep tabs on the
customers, Sari, you know that."

Sari frowned a bit, and stole a chip off his plate. "Oh Adam,
you're no fun. How're you going to know how to handle people
unless you pay attention to them, huh?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and ruffled her hair. "Maybe I don't
want to 'handle' people, Sari. Maybe I like them the way they
are."

Sari sniffed haughtily in response. "You just don't know the
right way to do it." Then she grew serious and fidgeted in her
seat. "But really...Adam, don't you think she's beautiful?"

He looked over at the woman and shrugged again. "I suppose so.
But she's too classy to me. Doesn't look like she could hold her
own if it came down to it. I don't like women like that."

Storing this little bit of pertinent information away in the file
cabinet of her mind, Sari frowned a bit. "I don't know, don't
you want to play the dashing prince for some girl someday?"
Please say yes, please say yes, please say...

"Not really."

Damn.

"Well," she pressed, "why not?"

Adam gave Sari an exasperated look and made as if to get up.
"Look, kid, I've got work to do and if you don't stop asking all
these stupid questions I'm going to..."

"I'll stop," Sari muttered discontentedly. "Jeez, a girl just
wants to ask one or two questions."

His arm snaked around her and Sari felt her heart thump a little
harder in her chest. Yep, for all of Adam's non-romantic,
I'm-a-stupid-boy moments...when he held her like this...it made
every one of them worthwhile. He murmured in her ear and she
pulled away a bit. "I didn't hear you."

Adam sighed and hugged her tighter. "I said," he groused, "that
you should just leave the poor woman alone. Go to dance class
and I'll walk you home later, okay?"

She wrinkled her nose at him in what she hoped was a cute
gesture. "Why do you want to walk me home? Afraid I can't
handle myself?"

Her heart thumped again as Adam frowned. This time the frown was
different, it was more protective and fierce then annoyed. "If
anything happened to you Sari, I'd make who ever did it regret
being born. But no, it's not that I think anything would happen,
it's just that I'd feel better being there anyway. You don't
mind, right?"

She shook her head rapidly, trying to take in air through her
tight throat. "Not at all," she whispered breathily. "See you
at seven then."

Adam nodded and he leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on her
forehead. "Have fun, Sari."

Right" she muttered as she walked out the door, conscious that
the woman's eyes were following her every move now. "Fun."

As she trudged down the street to class, Sari tried hard to not
think about the strange woman or Adam. Now was the time to
prepare for what lay ahead. Or, to more precise, who lay ahead.

Erin Moanohie was the bane of young Sari's life. She was twelve
and thought that just because she was stronger than everyone else
at St. Christopher's that meant she could rule over them. Plus
she was already wearing a training bra and let all the littler
girls know it. It was a mark of pride and she abused it on a
daily basis. Sari loathed and despised bullies with a violent
passion. It didn't help that Erin made cow-eyes at Adam every
chance she got either.

The main problem was that Erin was a decent dancer and when time
for performances rolled around it was always a tossup between the
graceful and tiny Sari and the tall and swanlike Erin. So far
they were on equal ground. Sari had gotten to play the Mermaid
Princess and Snow White whereas Erin had been given Sleeping
Beauty and Rapunzel. The only performance left was the Christmas
show and today the decisions from last week's auditions would be
posted. As far as anyone knew it was going to be that wonderful
old Christmas stand in, The Nutcracker.

Personally, Sari knew she was a shoe in for the role of the
Sugarplum Fairy. Erin hadn't practiced the piece at all until a
week before the auditions and so she didn't know the ins and outs
of it quite the same way Sari did. But what Sari was worried
about wasn't during practice, but rather after. Long after, like
say, after the lights were out and Erin was free to sneak out of
her room and make poor Sari's life miserable by dropping rats in
her bed or tearing her posters or even trying to get into her
drawers again.

Sari's delicate face twisted into a scowl at that. Though she
wore her necklace twenty-four hours a day seven days a week, she
was terrified that one day she would wake up to discover Erin had
somehow managed to take her necklace off in the middle of the
night and conveniently 'lose' it. She shuddered at the thought.
As it was the only thing she had of her mother, the thought of
losing her necklace horrified her.

After a few short blocks Sari finally arrived at the dance
academy.

"You're late, Sari dear," called Madame Norris as Sari rushed
across the floor towards the changing rooms. "You'll stay after
as punishment."

"Yes, Madame Norris," she called back, grimacing a little. She'd
spent too much time with Adam on his break, but that exotic woman
had caught her attention and she hadn't been paying attention to
the time. Oh well, she needed practice on her high kicks anyway.

Sari quickly donned her favorite leotard and tights, before
slipping on her jazz shoes. It was Thursday, which meant they
were working on combinations, not concentrating on one style of
dance or another. Sari had once read a Japanese comic book -Adam
had smugly informed her they were called manga and she'd just
ignored him- where the main guy practiced a style of martial arts
called Anything Goes. Well if a dance class could be considered
an Anything Goes style, this one would be it. They did
everything but cheerleading and that was just because Madame
Norris thought it was beneath them.

Sari paused in front of the mirror to adjust the leotard and pull
her hair back into its customary bow, but something caught her
eye. Even though she was still young, Sari knew one day she'd be
very pretty if not downright beautiful. It wasn't just the fact
she had exotic coloring naturally- her pale tinted hair and dark
skin were certainly a distinctive combination- nor was it the
fact she would probably always be tiny and delicate her entire
life -even at nine Sari could tell she wasn't going to grow to be
too much taller. At best she'd be five feet with an inch or two
to spare. It was more than just that, it was the look in her
eyes. It reminded her so much of the woman in the coffee shop.

I want something, Sari realized. I'm not happy here, am I?

But what could she want that she didn't have? She had a reminder
of her mother; that was more than anyone else at St.
Christopher's had, she had a wonderful companion and protector
rolled into one (one that all of the girls adored on top of
that), and she was phenomenally intelligent. What more could a
girl want?

A family.

Sari grimaced and yanked a brush through her thick hair. Family
was a silly notion. Family implied something stable and
permanent and eternal. Family suggested a home with a cat
perched on the windowsill and a kitchen filled with shiny pots
and pans and only four or five bedrooms with only four or five
people. Family made you think of holiday breaks and board games
and silly fights because so many people were crammed into a
little car on a family vacation. Family...

Family...

Family was just silly.

Sari continued yanking her brush harder and harder through her
defenseless hair, bullying the knots into submission as she
thought about the implications of family.

In a family you had people that stayed up late at night and
worried about you if you stayed after in dance class. You had
guilt trips if you didn't do the dishes, you had breakups over
silly things like who your brother wanted to marry or what that
crazy aunt on your dad's side said last Christmas. You were tied
down, you had roots.

The thought made Sari shiver. You had people depending on you to
be perfect and loving and most importantly of all, there. You
couldn't just up and run away to Japan on a moment's notice to
explore the origins of a strange rose-crested ring you found with
your birth certificate. You couldn't try and find your dead
mother's grave or hunt down the man that abandoned her and left
her alone and pregna...

Sari broke off that line of thinking. This is silly, she
thought. Why did that woman have such an effect on me? I don't
get it.

She frowned and took one last look at herself in the mirror.
Hair tied back in a tight ponytail?
Check.
Favorite black leotard on straight with no wedgies?
Check
Jazz shoes laced up tightly and tights pulled up?
Check.
Mentally prepared for Erin?
No, but that could be fixed.

Sari grinned roguishly and raced out the door to the dance floor.

It was going to be a long and worthwhile night.



Adam filled two fresh glasses of green tea and brought them to
Yamika and her guest. They'd been talking in earnest ever since
his break with Sari and that had been two hours ago. He hoped it
wasn't something too important, that woman looked like she could
be some sort of inspector or something and the last thing the
shop needed right now was an audit or a health code violation.

He frowned at himself as he set the cups down and was absently
thanked. That had been a silly thought; the back was spotless
and nothing, come hell or high water, would make the IRS audit
them.

Sighing, he returned to the counter and began cleaning up for the
day. It would be late soon and he'd have to go get Sari. If
she was tardy to her lessons, she would be staying behind and
that would mean almost an hour of waiting and watching her
practice.

He didn't mind though.

Adam loved watching people dance and always had. He could
two-step with the best of them, but when it came down to actual
performance art he left all the plies and grapevines to Sari.
She was incredibly good at it too, already Adam could see that a
few years from now she'd be beating off the offers to train at
the world's finest dancing academies. In a way it saddened him.

When he really looked deep at those feelings, the thought of her
leaving did more than just that though. When he thought of Sari
waltzing her way out of his life it terrified him. It wasn't
just that Sari had the world's largest crush on him; it was more
than that. Adam loved her a great deal, maybe not fully in the
way she fantasized about, but he hoped to be there when the day
arrived that she realized exactly how unique and special she was.
In his own way Adam recognized the fact that even at nine Sari
was ravishingly pretty and well on her way to drop dead
beautiful. It was just the fact that he couldn't quite equate in
his mind the bright and bubbly five year old he'd met all those
years ago to the stunning young girl who was growing up more each
and every day.

Adam sighed. He couldn't do much in this world, he knew and
understood that perfectly. Unlike Sari, Adam had no real desire
to seek out his family. Thanks to a Sari-organized late night
raid through the record cabinets and a hacked computer job he
knew the answer to every burning question he'd asked himself. It
hadn't been that someone hadn't wanted him; it was just that life
sucked and circumstances had made things convoluted. He was okay
with that. Maybe one day he'd hunt out very distant relations he
now had addresses for, maybe one day he wouldn't. Either way, at
least he knew.

On the other hand, knowing the little bit of knowledge she did
about her mother and the ring she always wore made Sari even more
desperate to know about her past. It had been Sari who'd found
the spare key to the office, Sari who'd hunted until she found
the key to the locked cabinets, Sari who'd studied the school's
computer system until she'd found a loophole into their records
and the passwords.

The damn kid was way too smart for her own damn good.

Next to her, Adam felt just like a dumb jock.

Finishing the cleanup job, Adam waved at Yamika and her guest
before clocking out. He had a snoop to go pick up.




Anshi sat back. That had been a long story indeed. When she'd
told the woman to tell her everything, she hadn't intended
Yamika's impressions of the young girl as well. Oh well, it was
for the best. Now she had a clear idea who this Sari was and
exactly what she was doing there.

A small smile drifted across her lips. Even after seeing the
ring, she'd had her doubts. Who knew how many women Akio had
been with over the years? It was quite possible her
ever-vigilant brother had slipped up on one and had mistakenly
sent a girl away from Ohtori with more than just a diploma to see
her off into the real world.

But it was the girl's full name that cinched it.

Himemiya Sari.

She had a niece.

Anshi fiddled with her cup, watching the dregs of the tea slip
along the bottom in a sort of peaceful stupor. Whatever in the
world had possessed Utena to leave her child in America?

Sighing inwardly, Anshi left Yamika with a closing spell. It
would make the woman very happy, and give her a sense of
accomplishment. It wasn't necessary to dull this one's memories;
she was too open and honest for it to work long anyway. Yamika
had done what was right, now it was just a matter of making her
know that.

Once finished, Anshi said her polite goodbyes and followed the
boy Adam out into the street. She had heard his quiet whisper
from earlier and decided on the spot that when he left, she would
too.

After all, it wasn't every day that the clue you'd been searching
for just bounded into your life with a tinkle of a shop-bell and
a gust of fresh October air.


"And one, and two, and three, and four- kick higher Sari dear,
your form is getting sloppy."

Grimacing in pain, Sari straightened her back and fought to kick
higher. In her few short years as a dancer she'd gained a
reputation for being the most flexible member of the company,
surpassing even Madame Norris for sheer freak-show factor. She
could bend her body in ways that even hurt to look at, but still
that wasn't enough for the Russian-trained instructor. "More,"
she commanded, laying her hand in the small of Sari's back. "You
are overconfident, Sari. It's making you off-balance. Slow down
and try again." The music, a slow, throbbing beat punctuated the
words as well as an occasional tribal yell.

Sari closed her eyes, found her center, and began again. Dimly
she heard the far door open, but she kept them tightly shut as
she swept her leg in it's continual high arc and tried for the
world not to scream as the burning heat in her thighs increased.

"That's enough for one day, Sari. Thank you."

Sari nearly dropped from exhaustion. As it was, she slowly slid
to the floor and lay there panting as Madame Norris turned off
the stereo and went to her office to finish up the night's
paperwork before going home. The familiar clomp of Adam's feet
on the dance floor brought her out of it enough to grimace.
"Shoes," she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," he called as he quickly dropped to the floor
and slid off his shoes. That done, he crawled over on his hands
and knees and laid her head in his lap, stroking her sweaty hair.
"Looks like you worked really hard today, squirt."

"You're telling me," she panted. "But the good news is, I got
the part."

He grinned. "So I can look forward to you dancing through my
head come Christmas time, Ms. Fairy?"

Sari shook her head. "No. It's crazy, but the other two dance
instructors- you know the really weird new ones? - decided on a
different show this year. We're doing something called 'The Rose
Prince's Return'. How weird is that?"

"Pretty weird," he agreed. "Sounds almost like it should be
performed for Halloween, not Christmas. So who do you play?"

Pursing her lips, Sari frowned. "You know, I don't know. All I
know is that when I looked at the corkboard it just said I had
the lead and that all the other girls were 'G-ko through Z-ko'
with some 'random plot devices' for others. Too strange for me."

"G-ko? What kind of character is that?" he mused. "Oh well,
maybe they'll tell you more tomorrow."

Grimacing as she sat up, Sari groaned. "No practice tomorrow.
Madame Norris is going to be busy, and the other two teachers
have jobs with drama schools around town so everything was
cancelled tomorrow. That plus the day off from school and I get
to sleep in."

"Lucky," he chided. "I have to work first thing in the morning."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Ha, ha. You have to work."

He shook his head in defeat. "Go get dressed, kiddo. You need
to take a hot shower when we hit the dorms. You stink."

Sari smacked him lightly on the arm and trudged off to the
changing room. She must have really worked hard today, he
thought, she always runs everywhere. She really looks beat.
Maybe I'll offer to piggyback her home.

A few minutes later, Adam was doing just that.

As the two made their way through the early evening throng, Anshi silently followed. As soon as she knew where the two were staying, she could rest easy. After all, she was the only one other than Utena who now knew that Sari existed. Surely after all this time it would be safe to just take a day or two break?
Ohtori could wait, if only for a little bit longer.

Just a little bit.

You actually want to read this thing huh? You are truly brave
and I give you kudos. Okay, here's the scoop: All the usual
disclaimer information applies here. I did not create any of the
Shoujo Kakumei Utena characters portrayed in this story except
for the obvious ones of Sari, Yamika, and Adam. Any backdrop
people feel free to steal; any foreground people like Sari,
Yamika, or Adam please don't steal without my permission. Extra
thanks to Alan Harnum for all his help. Couldn't do it without
him, that's for sure. If you have C&C please email me at
Kam904s@yahoo.com, I'm always glad to get mail of any type.
Heck, flame me if you want to, it's a free world.

In conclusion: Please don't sue me, I have more debts than people
owe to Nabiki Tendo at the moment and you won't get anything worthwhile except maybe my poodle.

Thanks,
AngelKate

^_-