Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Memory of the Rose ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter Two

"Most people think that shadows follow, precede or surround
beings or objects. The truth is that they also surround words,
ideas, desires, deeds, impulses and memories."

-'Humankind', Wiesel


"How many people are out there?" whispered Anya to Sari.

Sari glanced at the older girl and felt a moment of pity. She
was a frightening shade of greenish-white and it was due to more
than the geisha makeup coating her normally ruddy cheeks. This
was Anya's first performance and she was obviously terrified.
Sari herself felt rather noncommittal about the whole thing. The
highly unusual role would be challenging, there was no doubt
about it, but she knew it hands down and had for several months
now. Glancing out the threadbare red curtain, Sari idly noted
Adam and Yamika-momma in the front row alongside a dark-skinned
woman who looked vaguely familiar. Ignoring them for the moment,
she allowed her gaze to travel the crowd, watching as the
latecomers edged their way past those already seated. Already
the lights were flickering and dimming as a cue for the audience
to settle down in their seats and prepare for the show. The
orchestra had long since been tuned up and now played some soft
Christmas melody as the final members of the audience situated
themselves. It was, rather surprisingly, a packed house. She
idly wondered how in the world the dance instructors had
convinced so many people to buy tickets.

"Not that many," she reassured Anya quietly as she let her gaze
rove over the old theatre. The place was well kept up, for being
around since the thirties. Some of the best features in Sari's
opinion were the original light fixtures and the faded red and
green ivy patterned carpet. There were even small gray marble
gargoyles peeking out at the audience high above the curtains,
contorting their carved faces in all sorts of disgusting and
amusing ways. Sari had always liked them as they reminded her of
her very dim memories from early childhood. In the very back of
her mind she could remember someone -perhaps her mother, perhaps
not- making such faces at her on a bus. If she closed her eyes
she could almost feel the vibrations humming along under her legs
and the sweet, soft sound of that someone softly singing her to
sleep.

Sari pulled back from the curtain as Madame Norris hustled some
of the first act dancers out onto the stage and made final prop
checks. The set was austere; a disjointed mural of a forest
filled with roses covered the back wall with a spare few
cardboard trees set upstage for the characters to dance around.
It was only in the later acts that the special effects were used;
they had rented a smoke machine that was suspended high in the
rafters to let smoke filter down upon the dancers, and there were
also several fans offstage to simulate a strong wind for Sari's
entrance as the Princess that the Prince loved.

Moving back from the stage, lest she be seen, Sari groaned softly
as the strap on her left toe shoe came loose. She had been in
her costume for hours; it was typical that now it would choose
now to cause a problem. Luckily she didn't make her grand
entrance until scene four, so Sari quickly limped over to the
costume assistant and took off the shoe. The young woman
frowned, but took the shoe and in less than two minutes had the
stubborn strap sewn firmly on again. Sari fervently hoped the
strap didn't loosen once more as she danced on stage. She may
have the honor of the lead female, but it was the entire Hidden
Shadow Dance Company's reputation at stake here. It was even
rumored that there would be talent scouts in the audience
tonight, ready and willing to offer scholarships to dance
academies all over the nation if they did well. Sari was only
nine, but some of the other girls outside of her class were in
their late teens and could use the offer of scholarships. It
would be an amazing opportunity for them.

Satisfied that the shoe wouldn't fly off in the middle of a
glissade, Sari sat to the side and waited her cue.
Lost in the beauty of the production, Sari watched Erin glide out
onto the stage, resplendent in her role as the sister-witch. For
all of her annoying habits, and snotty attitude, she truly was a
brilliant dancer. She had a wonderful future ahead of her, and
as much as it grated on Sari to admit it, she was probably going
to make it one of these days. She had the diva personality down
to an art already, plus when she danced she radiated a passion
unsurpassed by many of the company. In a way, Sari wondered why
she hadn't been chosen as the Princess, but supposed that it was
her size that had decided it. Erin was not fat by anyone's
standards, but she was taller than most of the girls, and as the
Princess actually spent more of her numbers in the air held up by
the various members of the cast than on the ground, it made sense
why they'd chosen her to be the witch instead. It was still a
very important role, just not quite as lifting intensive.

The beginning of the story was classic enough: Once upon a time
there was a Rose Prince, willing to do anything for the
Princesses of the world. He was a good boy, doing everything to
the best of his ability, but he when he fell ill many bad things
happened. His sister was found to be a witch, and the local
villagers punished her when he was too sick to save her from her
fate. Thus, angered over her unnecessary death, the Rose Prince
became dark and worldly and it was only at the appearance of
another Prince from a far away kingdom that he began to remember
what he had been before. This new Prince and the Dark Prince
battled, but the Dark Prince won, sending the Prince away in
shame. Then the Princess would arrive and Sari had a truly
beautiful number filled with lots of leaps into the arms of the
castle servants, purposefully avoiding the arms of the Dark
Prince until the end of the number. She was then locked in the
tower (actually a portable dais set in the middle of the stage
and surrounded with thin strips of glass) and danced continuously
in sorrow in the background until her rescue near the last act.

The rest of the performance was the battle between the new Rose
Prince and the old. At the end the new Prince dies in her arms,
but in his death he frees the servants and awakens the old
protective instincts in the Dark Prince. He was in reality a
sacrifice to make the Dark Prince remember his old self. His
corpse is taken away then Sari and the newly reborn Rose Prince
end the performance with a dance set to the rising dawn.

Hearing the opening strains of her entrance piece, Sari took a
deep breath and sprang out on to the stage into the arms of Anya,
dressed in the livery of a footman. She closed her eyes and
began to move, loosing herself in the story...



(Her Dark Prince held out his arms to her as she ran down a
flight of impossibly long stairs. They curved down and down and
down, like an elevator into hell, and still she ran, hearing his
steps echo behind her, getting closer, closer...)

(The Rose Prince was using more than just his feet as he fought.
A sword of some kind was in his hands, and he sliced through the
air, catching part of Sari's scarlet dress with the tip, ripping
a large gash in the overskirt as the underskirt leaked pale white
ruffles onto the dueling arena's floor...)

(Sari was screaming as she pounded on the glass walls of her
cage, watching the servants and people walk calmly by as she
thrust her fists again and again against the hard, smooth walls.
Something shattered in her hand and Sari screamed, watching in
utter surprise as her left hand dropped uselessly to her side,
blood gushing out from the splintered bone peeping through her
dark skin. She felt faint...)


...not truly coming to until the audience was on their feet and
roses were littering the stage.

Glancing around, Sari was surprised to find her right hand being
tightly gripped by Erin. "You did wonderfully," her rival
smiled, handing her a bouquet of daisies. "Congratulations."

Sari could only blink in surprise and bow to the crowd. Erin was
congratulating her? When exactly did hell freeze over and was
she too busy dancing during the snowstorm to notice?

The bows continued, with the audience chanting for an encore.
Sari had never felt so tired and exhilarated at the same moment.
She knew she had just been dancing, she could feel the burning in
her arms and legs -strangely enough, her left hand was throbbing
with phantom pain as well- and felt her entire body drenched in
sweat, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember anything
past leaping into Anya's arms at the very beginning of the piece.
Wow, she thought to herself, that must have been some
performance. They're still standing up and clapping, and it's
already been a full two minutes. The cries of 'encore!' weren't
fading either; if anything, they'd grown in strength.

Two women (the strange dance instructors, Sari's mind informed
her idly) approached from off stage, the one on the left was
holding a bouquet of black roses. "For you," she smiled at Sari
as she handed the heavy flowers over. "Bow again, dear, never
leave your audience wanting."

Nodding at her instructor, Sari dipped low again as gracefully as
she could, tucking her chin to her chest as Madame Norris had
taught them, somehow inadvertently taking a deep breath of the
black flowers.

The reaction was instantaneous; she began to cough violently and
the auditorium took on a distinctly fuzzy look as she sank to the
stage floor completely devoid of grace. She numbly noticed that
her hands had dropped the bouquet but she couldn't figure out if
that was because her fingers were anesthetized or if it was the
uncontrollable dizziness she was experiencing. Her feet slipped
out from under her as she tried to stand; the crowd began to
murmur in surprise. The clapping died down as the audience
stared at Sari. She fought to push her legs beneath her; she had
to accept her grand finale...she had...she had...

All her limbs were tingling now, from her legs all the way up her
body. Even her face felt strange; a throbbing pulse in her
temples was rapidly growing from a mild pain to a spasmodic
muscle scream. The agony in her head was so strong Sari felt the
world actually begin to twist around in her head. It was
excruciating. Her body had finally had enough shock; as her head
thumped on to the stage, sending a shooting pain from the back of
her neck in a sharp wave to the front of her face, Sari watched
as the expression on Yamika-momma's face and Adam's changed from
pride and joy to confusion and then fear as the curtain dropped
with an ungainly thud. It didn't matter really though, before
the curtain had dropped Sari's quickly dimming gaze had skipped
over them, moving to the woman who was rushing towards the stage
along with them. With a sense of confusion Sari recognized her
now; she was the exotic bindi-woman of the restaurant from three
months ago. As the world grew black around her, Sari idly
wondered why she'd come to see the performance.

In the space between dreams, Sari struggled with her
surroundings.

A moment ago she was on stage. Now she stood alone in a rose
garden.

An apparently empty rose garden.

There was a wrought iron bench not too far away, so she sat down.
It seemed the thing to do, really. But there was something she
was missing, and it bothered Sari. Her hand throbbed, her legs
ached, and she felt as if she'd just run a marathon in record
time.

Even her head wasn't unaffected; she had a bitch of a headache,
more akin to a mild migraine than anything else. But it was more
than the physical aches and pains; there was truly something off
somewhere nearby. She couldn't put her finger on what was wrong.
It wasn't really where she was, not when it came down to it.

Though very spooky, the garden was nice she supposed, if you like
gothic wrought iron and lattices. As for the foliage, nothing
grew but blood-red and black roses. Even the grass itself was
dead and crackling under her feet. The air was frigid; with
enough moisture it would soon snow, and Sari hoped that it
wouldn't while she was sitting here, trying to get rid of the
feeling she'd forgotten something dreadfully important.

As she sat there, wondering where in the hell she was, she
noticed two shadows dancing along a bare wall not far from the
garden. Sari rose to go find out who could dance so well, only
to find she couldn't step past the opening to the rose garden.
"What the hell?" she hissed, pushing at the doorway with her
hands. The air between the posts felt spongy, as if a good hard
shove would send her through, but for some reason fear held her
back from doing that. She didn't know why she was here; perhaps
the barrier was to protect her from the strange dancing shadows.
As if her thoughts conjured them up, Sari looked up to find the
shadows moving towards her with a liquidly graceful glide
impossible to achieve in real life. It was more the slow,
sinuous glide of a large cat- a panther, or a lion- than that of
a human. Sari didn't realize it, but she was shaking with fear.
"Who are you?" Sari demanded, dropping to the ground and trying
to see who was making the shadows. It was the middle of the
night, she suddenly realized, there was no way anyone could be
making those shadows. It had to be a figment of her imagination.
"Do you know?" whispered a voice in her ear.

Sari screamed and jumped to her feet, whirling in tight circles
trying to discover who had sneaked up on her. She could see no
one now, not even the strange, disembodied shadows.

"Have you heard the news?" The voice in the other ear now,
laughing at her, mocking her confusion.

"No!" Sari screamed, looking frantically about for a weapon. Her
scanning gaze showed her nothing. "I don't know! I haven't
heard! Tell me!" Her thoughts were in an uproar. She was only
nine years old. She would be turning ten tomorrow. She was too
young to die. Too young, oh too young, please don't hurt me,
please, please, please don't hurt me, I'll buy a nightlight, I'll
go to church or something just please, please, please...

"Why would we want to hurt you?" The voice was indignant now,
behind her. Sari whirled again, and found herself face to face
with one of the new dance instructors. Well, not so new now,
they'd been teaching Sari for three months, but Sari kept
forgetting their names. Annie and Betty, or was it Aretha and
Barbara? Stunned into mental silence at the sight of her teacher
(Betty, her mind spoke up, she's the B-one) Sari just stood and
stared. Her hair was in its normal girlish braids, but the twin
ropes of hair were defying gravity as she watched; they stuck
straight out behind her, the ends curving slightly upwards.

The teacher laughed. "You're doing so well. You have real
talent, and such a flair for drama too! We've been thinking you
know," she began before the other teacher stepped out of the
shadows behind a nearby rose bush and shook her head.

"Now, now, you shouldn't ruin the ending for the little thing,
B. Just give her the cake."

Feeling thoroughly confused now, Sari could only shake her head.
"Cake? What cake?"

"This one," prompted the one on the left, the one with the big
silly bow in her hair. She held a large round white cake out to
the girl. There was a stylized rose on the top of it; in fact it
kind of reminded Sari of the ring she had taken off that
afternoon as she prepared for the performance and given to
Yamika-momma to hold. "We know you hate chocolate cake, so it's
lemon with strawberry frosting. Do you like lemon and strawberry
as a combination, Sari? It's very good on snow cones and shaved
ice."

Sari nodded numbly, though she had never had the combination.
One of the instructors pulled Sari's customary headband out of
her pocket and slipped it on the startled girl's head. Sari now
could see her own shadow on a nearby wall; with her ponytail and
headband added it looked strangely stylized...like the dancing
shadows of before... Something was wrong here, what was she doing
in a bizarre rose garden with her two dance instructors anyway?
Wasn't she just on stage?

"Of course not," assured the other teacher as she slipped on a
cowboy hat, then reached forward and tugged on Sari's ponytail.
"You weren't on stage a few minutes ago, you were here, remember?
Eating a piece of your fourteenth birthday cake."

Fourteenth? That wasn't right, Sari realized, she was turning
ten. But...

Sari looked down at her hands. Yes, she must have been confused.
She had a drooping pink paper plate in her hand, a mostly eaten
piece of cake on it speared with a fork. A small puddle of
melted ice cream dripped over her fingers and she absently traded
hands to lick the vanilla flavored gook off her fingers.

"It's good," she murmured in surprise; her fear had faded along
with the brief taste of the ice cream. "You made it for me?"
"Of course," laughed the one with the braids. She held out her
hand and a dress appeared in it, a scarlet affair with ruffles
everywhere. She held it up against Sari, apparently measuring it
against her form to see how it would fit. "Is it good?"

Sari nodded and took a bite of the cake. It was too sweet,
gaggingly so. Frowning, she looked down at the cake and her eyes
widened. No, she thought, it couldn't be. Holding the plate up
to her face only confirmed what she had very much not wanted to
know. Sari shrieked, dropping the plate and its horrible
contents all over the lovely red dress. What she had taken for
white frosting between the pink strips of the rose design was
actually a mass of wriggling white maggots. Sari stumbled over
to the side of the garden and began to retch, forcing her finger
down her throat until she was certain the last of the cake was
decorating the black rose bush beneath her and not happily
digesting away in her stomach. Dizzy with horror and disgust she
turned on her teachers, prepared to start screaming for help.

What she found instead forced her mouth closed with a click. She
winced; tasting the blood of her bit tongue, but didn't say a
word. Where her teachers had been there was now a glowing
castle.

An upside down castle.

Hanging from the top of the strange rose garden.

Sari licked her lips in a nervous gesture, unconsciously coating
her lips with blood from her cut tongue, and stared with more
than a little fear.

What in the hell was going on here?

"It's not too late," murmured a voice behind her. Sari turned,
expecting it to be one of the demon instructors, only to find a
pretty girl of fourteen or so sitting on the bench with one arm
slung over the back.

Sari was confused. "I don't understand what you mean. What is
that?"

The girl brushed back a strand of pale rose-colored hair off her
cheek and smiled softly. "Think of it as a mirage. Someone told
me that once and I took him at face value. It has no real
meaning unless you give it meaning."

"But..."

"Shut up," the girl said, not unkindly. "We don't have a lot of
time. You're going to wake up soon and have to face the biggest
decision of your life. It might not seem like it at the time,
but I promise, what you decide will affect you and those around
you until you die. Do you get me?"

Sari nodded and moved beside the girl. She sat down and looked
the girl up and down, noting the strange black and red uniform.
There were epaulettes on the shoulders and ruffled trim along the
bottom edge of the black jacket. The figure beneath the clothes
was trim and muscular, though not in an unattractive way. She was
pale, and her eyes were a bright vibrant blue. She fairly
radiated health and youth and beauty. The girl's hands were
slender, and much to Sari's surprise, bare. She supposed she had
expected the girl to be wearing some sort of ring, like the Rose
Prince in the play...what play? It was a silly notion, but one
that had been strong nonetheless. Hadn't she just been in...no
never mind. This was more important that a feeling that she was
forgetting something. "What's your name? Who are you?"

The girl snorted. "Not enough time. Explaining that would take
forever. I'm a Prince, okay? Leave it at that. Look, Sari, this
is important. You have to try to remember this when you wake up.
Promise me that you'll try."

Sari nodded; she was thrilled that all these strange occurrences
were just products of a dream. It made things easier to bear.
"I'll try. What do you want me to remember?"

The girl reached her hand forward and grasped something around
Sari's neck. Sari was surprised to realize it was her mother's
ring. "How did that..."

"Not enough time," the girl snapped. "Don't, whatever you do,
put this ring on! Do you understand me? Don't trust anyone, and
I mean ANYONE wearing a ring like this! I don't care that it
belonged to your mother, she was a naïve fool, do you get me?!"

Fighting back a harsh retort, Sari yanked the necklace out of the
girl's grip. "My mother," she hissed as coldly as she could,
"was a wonderful woman. Not at all like YOU. What in the hell
does a ring..."

The slap was loud in the shivering silence. "Listen to me," the
girl grabbed Sari's face and held it mere inches away from her
own. Sari was stunned to see tears brimming in the large blue
eyes, tears that began to spill over one by one down pale cheeks
as she watched. "Listen to me," the girl repeated in a softer
voice, "you can't think like that. Your mother was a good woman
once, so were many people. But time...changes things. She loved
you, so she sent you away. Always know that she loved you. But
if you go in search of things you were not meant to know, you
will disgrace her memory and do a lot of damage. Don't try to
find her; she might as well be dead to you! So trust me, it's
better that you stay away from things you know nothing about.
Don't trust strangers, especially ones that say they come from
far away. Trust Adam, and Yamika, and yourself. Get away from
those dance instructors, that's very important. If that woman-
the one with the bindi- if she tries to protect you, let her.
But avoid her at all costs otherwise. It's better this way, do
you understand? I want what's best for you, Sari."

Mind whirling with all the information thrown at her, Sari shook
her head in denial. "I don't understand. I just don't..."

The girl kissed her. Soft pink lips grazed her own; it was a
warm, loving kiss. The girl drew back and then surged forward,
her arms wrapping tightly around Sari's torso, trapping her arms
in the hard embrace. "Don't search for me," she whispered in
Sari's ear. "Now wake up, Sari Himemiya. Remember what I said.
Stay here, don't go to Ohtori. Please...I'm very proud of you.
I love you. Wake up."


Sari opened her eyes to a stark white ceiling. She blinked a few
times, trying to clear the cobwebs out of her head. She felt as
if there had been an entire army of the little buggers, weaving
black poison threads through her dreams. She had a vague sense
of urgency, but she couldn't figure out why. She wasn't supposed
to do something, but she couldn't figure out what. What was she
forgetting?

Trying to make sense of her surroundings, Sari glanced around.
She was obviously in a hospital room. There were the obligatory
white walls with faded green trim and a track along the ceiling
with a separating curtain tucked in the corner. Apparently she
had the room to herself currently as no one else occupied the
other narrow bed, though there was a small vase of daisies on the
bedside table. The window was closed and snow flakes drifted by
with a lazy purpose, though it was very warm in the room despite
the drafty hospital gown they had her in. As Sari lay there and
fought with her rapidly diminishing memories of the dream, the
door creaked open and a familiar head poked in the room. "Hey."

The rest of the memories slipped soundlessly away at the sight of
his face. "Adam," she breathed softly. "Hey."

He stepped the rest of the way into the room, his arms behind his
back. "So, I see you woke up." He was fidgeting, Sari noted.
Adam never fidgeted. Something was up.

"Yeah," she drawled slowly. "It had to happen eventually."

"Well," he coughed, slowly inching closer to the bed, "the
doctors will be here in a minute to check up on you. Do you
remember what happened at all?"

Sari nodded. "I overdid it, didn't I?"
He laughed. "Typical you, right? But they think you'll be okay.
You didn't hurt yourself; it just looks like you passed out from
exhaustion. Not that I blame you, you danced like you had to do
it or die. It was beautiful."

Quietly thrilled at the compliment, Sari sat up a little. "You
really think so?"

Grinning, he sat down on a small stool by the bed. "You have to
ask?"

"So...what's behind your back?"

Adam flinched ruefully. "Didn't fool you for a minute, huh?"

She shook her head. "Get well gift?"

"Birthday gift. When we get home we'll have a little party.
Yamika made you some birthday cake."

At the mention of cake, Sari's stomach lurched in a strange way.

Her hands scrabbled at her mouth and Adam, recognizing the
international signal, grabbed a nearby bucket for her to retch
in. When she was finished, he smoothed the sweaty hair off her
forehead and set the bucket aside. "I guess no cake after all.
That's okay. Want a glass of water?"

Sari nodded numbly and settled back against the pillows. That
was strange. She hadn't felt nauseous until cake was mentioned.
Great that was just what she needed, a case of the stomach flu
right before Christmas. Fabulous.

"My stomach hurts," she grumbled. She was rather surprised to
see Adam flush a bright red at her words and she frowned.
"What?"

He licked his lips nervously. "Nothing. Don't worry about it.
Yamika will explain it better than I can when the doctor gets
here. Here's your water."

Frowning a little at his evasion, she took the plastic cup
gratefully and gulped down a hefty swallow. Refreshed somewhat,
she tilted her head and looked at Adam. He had settled back down
in the seat across from her and was shifting a small silver box
back and forth between his hands. "Adam?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want me to open that now or later?"

He blushed again. "Right. Sorry about that. Here. Happy
Birthday."

"Thanks," she muttered dryly. What was wrong with him? He'd
tossed the gift at her like she would bite his arm off.

Frustrated, she sat the gift down in her lap, unopened. "Adam,
is something wrong? Because if there is something, tell me right
now! You're acting weird."

"Na...uh...no," he stuttered. "Nothing's wrong. I promise.
Just open your gift already!"

Sighing, she held the small box in her hands and found the edge
of the wrapping paper. Though she normally wasn't the kind to
rip in to gifts, there was something about this particular box
that made her want to rip the paper off with her teeth. Shaking
her head softly to get the strange ideas out, she carefully
peeled away the paper to find a wide black velvet box.
Curiously, she glanced at Adam.

"Go on," he urged, "open it."

The inside was crammed with tissue. At the very bottom there was
an old battered gold locket in the shape of a rose bud just
beginning to bloom. It was this that Sari held up to the light.
"Adam, where did you get this?"

He grinned, a boy's grin really, and rubbed his hands together
happily. "A pawn shop on forty-fifth. It's not as fancy as the
other stuff you're gonna get, but I know how you like old jewelry
like your mom's. This used to belong to some starlet the clerk
said, but since the chain was broken he let me have it for a real
bargain. I knew you'd like it, so I sort of just grabbed it. Is
it okay?"

Feeling a strange sense of foreboding, Sari tried the latch. It
wouldn't open. "Is it...broken?"

Adam flushed a little. "Well, the clasp and the chain were, so I
had that replaced. The clerk said nothing could be done about
the hinge without ruining the locket. I know you like to have
mysterious objects, so I bought it anyway. He said the starlet
smashed it before she sold it, you know. Probably some dead
lover's picture is in there. Wouldn't that be spooky?"

Trust no one.

The words echoed in Sari's head and she shivered uncomfortably.
It was odd to feel so strongly about a gift just given, but she
felt as if a piece of some invisible puzzle had just dropped into
place. "It's pretty. Thank you, Adam."

She reached forward, the necklace still dangling from her grip,
and Adam leaned down, crushing her in his arms. The hug was
sweet, comforting, and warm. It was in his embrace that Sari
truly felt at peace and at home.

The moment was too short.

"If we're interrupting anything, we can come back."

Sari's eyes flew open to find Yamika, the doctor, and the strange
exotic woman just inside the doorway of the hospital room. They
had come in so quietly neither of them had heard their entrance.
Realizing they were no longer alone, Adam jumped back as if he'd
been doing something more to her than merely hugging.

She wished.

Feeling slightly wistful, Sari looked on her new visitors,
keeping a careful eye on Yamika's guest. There was something
interesting going on there. Apparently she hadn't noticed the
duo on the bed; her eyes had been glued to the locket dangling
loosely in Sari's hand. Feeling a moment of disquiet, Sari
decided to test an unformed theory. Slipping the necklace over
her head, she held her arms out for Yamika-momma to give her a
hug, all while keeping a close eye on the unexpected visitor.

She wasn't disappointed. The woman stared at her with a mild
form of worry and horror intermingled on her face.

"Well," harrumphed the doctor. "I'm sure Miss Nurri and Sari
here would like to be alone while I examine her. Can you two
please leave momentarily? You may wait in the waiting room."
The woman and Adam nodded, slipping out of the room, leaving
Sari, Yamika, and the doctor for the examination.

The boy was silent as they walked down the hall, Anshi noted. He
seemed almost embarrassed of the hug they had walked in on.
Smiling a secret smile to herself, Anshi kept her calm demeanor.

He was a good boy, and obviously had no idea he was in love with
a girl four years his junior. So good was he that she doubted
he'd recognize the telltale signs of love for several years yet.
She silently wished him luck. It wasn't often that one stumbled
across such a good person. Hopefully the world didn't screw him
over too badly.

But that necklace...Anshi's inner peace was violently disturbed.
Where had Sari gotten the thing? Surely it couldn't be the same
one, that was patently ridiculous.

Wasn't it?

There was no way Juri's necklace could have made it all the way
to the United States and found its way into the hands of Utena's
child. The mere suggestion of it was ridiculous.
So why wasn't she laughing?



"I did what?" Sari's face was a mask of disbelief. No wonder
poor Adam had turned so red when she had complained about her
stomach.

The doctor smiled as he sat back from the table and covered her
legs with an examination sheet. "I must admit, young lady,
you're taking this remarkably well. Much better than most of the
audience, I must say."

Sari groaned a little. Say what you will about her dancing
talent, that was one performance no one would forget for more
reasons than just excellent dancing. "I can't believe it
happened on stage like that. Everyone must have been freaking
out."

Yamika-momma grimaced. "You did have us worried, I will say that
much. When the ambulance arrived, I thought you were going to
die on the way here. How was I to know that nature had just
chosen a very inopportune moment to make itself known?"

Sari chuckled. "Oh well, at least now I'll have a good story to
tell my kids. No matter how embarrassed they get when they turn
their white shorts red I can just remind them that old Mom got
her first period in front of an entire audience full of people."

The doctor laughed. "Well, it was a gusher, that's for sure.
I'm not surprised they all thought you were hemorrhaging. Your
body must have been storing it up for more than a month for there
to be that much blood. All the anxiety of the performance
probably kept it from starting, then once the performance was
over...whoosh."

Grimacing at the visual, Sari touched feather-light fingers to
her belly. It didn't feel any different. How strange. She was
on her way to being a woman now. "Well, thanks Doctor."

He nodded. "Anytime, Sari. You come back and see me if you have
any questions, okay?"

She nodded in return. "Okay."

Patting her shoulder comfortably, he slipped out of the room,
leaving Sari to change into street clothes and Yamika to help
her. Sari dressed slowly, her thoughts not on the task at hand.
Her first period. Wow.

She felt a pang low in her belly and Sari winced, laying a hand
over the spot. She wondered if her real mother had ever been
this scared and surprised. How did she take her first period?
Was it also embarrassing or was there more to it?

Setting her lips into a thin line, Sari yanked on jeans provided
by Yamika. Her mother had probably had a mom around to tell her
the birds and bees long before she started her period, not the
New York public school system. She'd probably spent hours
giggling with Sari's grandmother over what scent of perfume to
wear, what clothing would make this boy or that boy notice her,
what color shoes would go properly with that dress. Her mother
had probably been a lady through and through who never messed up
and showed the world that she was human by collapsing on stage.
Her mother...

The jeans were a little tight, Sari thought desperately.
Already, mid-menstrual bloat was setting in. She'd have to go to
the store and get a new pair. And maybe some hose and shoes. Or
a dress. Or...

It was only when Yamika's arms were holding her tightly that Sari
realized she was crying.

It was only when her face was buried in a neck liberally scented
with Chanel Number Five that she realized how much she loved and
missed the scent of roses.

It was only when her shoes were tied, her hair brushed, and her
face washed clean of the tear tracks that she realized how
frightened she was.

And how much she wanted her mommy.


Adam wanted to talk with the strange woman. He did, really. She
sat across the room by the windows, staring outwards with a face
somehow serene and turbulent at the same time. Her slender brown
fingers twisted in her lap, negating her calm outward appearance,
and if it weren't for those clenching and relaxing hands, Adam
would never have known how nervous she was.

He cleared his throat guiltily. She didn't glance up.

Okay, plan B.

"Um, Ma'am?"

Anshi glanced up mildly. The boy was talking to her, perhaps she
should answer; it would be the polite thing to do. "Yes, Adam?"

Adam laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm
sorry, Ma'am, I forgot you name."

"Oh, is that all?"

He nodded, but she didn't reply again. "Um...Ma'am?"

Anshi glanced up again. "Yes, Adam?"

"Your name?"

"What about it?"

He grimaced. Was this woman stupid or was she playing him for a
fool? "What is your name?"

She glanced down at the scrubbed tile floor and sighed softly.
"You may call me Anshi-san."

Knowing he had the world's most confused look on his face, he
coughed softly. "Forgive me, Anshi...um...san, but that's a
Japanese honorific, right?"

Nodding, Anshi turned her brilliant green eyes on him. "I heard
you call Sari 'Sari-chan' once. Do you understand the honorific
system?"

"Well, yes...but why don't you want me to call you by your last
name?"

A small frown flitted across her lips and Adam cursed himself for
three times of fool for bothering her. She was not amused. "Are
you always this rude?"

Deciding that since he'd already offended her he might as well go
whole hog, he grinned with as much charm as he dared. "Why, yes,
I am."

Surprisingly, Anshi smiled. "Good."

More than a little dumbfounded, Adam shifted in the hard waiting
room chair. That was...unique.

"Uh...Anshi-san?"

"You're wondering why I'm here with you to see Sari, correct?"

Adam flushed. Was he that easily read?

"Well...yeah."

She smiled mysteriously. "You could call me a fairy godmother to
a princess. Would that explain things any better?"

"Not really," he said flatly. "Not unless you plan to take Sari
away from the streets and adopt her. But if you did that I'd
have to..."

"You love her too much to want to let her go, is that it?"

Adam flushed an even brighter shade of red and turned his face
towards the window. It was still snowing lazily outside; there
were people scraping heaping piles of snow off their cars in the
parking lot. Only a native New Yorker would see the kid
slouching on the street corner and see the drug dealer he really
was. Only a native New Yorker would see the two girls sashaying
down the street for the hookers they really were. Only a native
New Yorker would know that the rickety moving van up the street
couldn't actually belong to the owners of the leather couch going
into it. He rubbed his arms briskly and muttered something under
his breath.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you," Anshi asked.

"I said that I would do anything to get her out of here. Nothing
else matters, got it?"

Anshi frowned a little and stepped up behind him. She saw all
the people on the street; she even absently noticed the robbery
in progress, but it was all the layers of humanity that she truly
perceived. Yes, it all looked bad on the surface, but there was
a certain beauty in the balance. All of these the little daily
trials could exist because the major ills were being borne by one
who had visited this city once. Utena had left a very special
little girl behind in this city, but what Anshi didn't understand
was why she had done it.

"If I can get her out of here," Anshi said, choosing her words
carefully, "will you make sure she accepts?"

A sneer worked its way across his lips. "Quit it," he whispered.
"You can't do anything for her, okay? Just leave us alone. I
don't know why you're here, and I don't care. Just leave Sari
alone."

Anshi laid her hand on his shoulder. "I can't do that," she
murmured back. "She and I are joined in a way you don't
understand yet. But you will." Anshi paused to consider. "I can
take you with us."

Jumping to his feet, Adam grabbed her by the upper arms and
shook. "Just shut up! Shut up and leave us alone!"

She ignored his strong hands; she'd been hurt much worse by
Saionji than this child could ever imagine. With surprisingly
gentle fingers, Anshi reached up and traced a line down his
cheek. "Why are you crying?"

His hand flew to his face; when he withdrew it his fingers came
back glistening and wet. "I...I don't know."

Anshi drew the young boy close to her body; her arms wrapped
around his waist, her head leaned into his gangly
fourteen-year-old chest, and she sighed. He was tense in her
embrace but bit by bit he relaxed into the simple hug. "I'm
sorry," he whispered against her hair. "I'm being selfish.
Please, if you can, get her away from all of this."

"You have to trust me implicitly," she warned. "No going back on
your word." Anshi felt him shake his head and she smiled. "I
will work on it."

His voice was quiet. "Thank you."

"No," she murmured, pulling away, "thank you."

As she walked away, Anshi scanned his mind. She was more than
startled at the irony in life as she found out a few very
distinctive facts about him and his relationship with both Sari
and his birth mother. It was almost enough to make her believe
in some sort of convoluted fate, it really was. Taking note of
what she knew as she rode down in the elevator, Anshi came up
with a plan. As she passed the first floor duty desk she picked
out which people would be easily manipulated into helping it. As
she stepped out into the snowy night below, she had settled down
her course of action and was now wondering where she was going to
be getting dinner.

If her plan worked it would be odd for the two children, but it
would be for the best. She'd have to coach her fellows in
deception on what to say and come up with some sort of convenient
way for Adam to join Sari. Now if only she could get the prickly
roses of her past to comply...


The midnight hour struck as Sari snuggled deeper into her
comforter and thought about the day. After her crying jag, she
and Yamika-momma had made their way to the waiting room. The
exotic woman was nowhere in sight, but Adam leaned by the window;
his eyes searched the street below with a hungry sort of fervor.
She could tell by the way he held himself that he was tired and
restless. At least he didn't have to go to work the next day; if
she was lucky they'd get to spend the day together.

"Adam," she murmured, curling up on her side and wrapping her
fingers around the golden locket he'd given her. "Thank you."
Her sleep was quiet, and as far as she knew, dreamless.