Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ The Darker Shades of Green ❯ Masochist ( Chapter 5 )

A/N: Here is another chapter! I almost did something horribly mean and post it on Valentine’s Day, but then again, I hate V-Day and all of its mushiness. I didn’t want to be that mean though.

Anyway, this chapter deals with masochism/hashing/slashing. If you’re offended, then don’t read it. It’s nothing that differs from what’s been happening in this story.

SAME WARNINGS.

VV

The Darker Shades of Green

Chapter 5: Masochist

VV

This is a time that I dread the most…returning home to my father. The man that I could never be anything for.

As I packed my things, I could feel the apprehension more and more. I didn’t want to do this.

I’ve never liked facing my father, even as a child. He had always been disappointed in me- for I was never the star child he had wanted me to be. I could never be the best. I’m probably not the best to him even now…

I stare at my destination, unsure of whether I want to go in, or simply walk back to Ohtori and forget I ever came. It wouldn’t make any sense of me to turn back now.

I walked up to the door and gave it a quaint knock.

“Yes?” The man I used to call father answered the door.

“Oh, Saionji.” He finally replied, seeing me at the door. “Come in.”

I entered the house, though it was wearily.

We sat at the kitchen table, talking over the time we had lost.

He had asked me if I was winning any of my Kendo championships, I had to hang my head in defeat with all of the times Touga had won in our matches. For the ones I did win, however, memories of the past were brought up yet again with his little joke of, “Well, at least you’ve won it rightfully without fluke this time.”

I didn’t think it was too damn funny, and yet I couldn’t help but feel a prang inside of my heart from his stabs.

After a while, we’ve sparred in the kendo room, and he actually complemented me on the fact that I was getting better.

Still not good enough for him, though.

I know what I’ll be doing all weekend.

But perhaps this time, I could prove to him that I can be what he wants me to be…

As time progressed we began to recall events from the past, both painful and morbid. I pretended to play along with my father’s constant joking of my childhood weaknesses. Unbeknownst to him, I had actually tried back then.

I tried to be everything that he wanted me to be…

And yet…

I fail…

As I do now…

All he does is joke around about my pain…

I don’t know what the hell is so funny about my past.

“Hey Saionji.” My father called to me. “Would you mind polishing the blades before you leave for Ohtori today?”

“Of course.” I agreed, which was not an intelligent thing to agree to when not in the best of moods from his constant teasing earlier.

I walked towards the desolate room, in which contained the blades. There were three of them in total, lying on the floor, unsheathed. I took them one by one and began to clean and sharpen each of the magnificent blades.

One of them I had recognized. It was the blade that he had used to train me in my childhood years. It had indeed been well kept over the years. I began to wipe the blade down with an old cleaning rag father had given me.

As I had cleaned the blade, flashbacks ran through my head.

“What are you doing?”

“But father, I’m really tired. We’ve been training for hours. Can’t we take a break?”

“Winners don’t take breaks.”

“You’ll never obtain anything being that weak!”

‘You’ll never be anyone if you can’t win, Saionji!’

“What are you doing Saionji? Train harder!”

Worthless.

That’s all I was.

That’s all I’d ever be.

“Look father, I won the kendo tournament!”

“You barely won. You shouldn’t have even advanced to the finals; you’re not nearly as good as the other fighters.”

‘False dreams…false hope…I can never be a winner!’

So many memories…

So much pain…

Am I really a nutcase?

“I can never do anything right!”

“Good bye, sweet memories.” I recalled chunking the book into the school’s incinerator.

I am nothing truly.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing… < p>The sword began to shake with my weak nerves. I took the sword to my wrist one more, and let the sensation of draining the pain sink in. It swirls around within a crimson river, and once that river is released, the pain isn’t so unbearable anymore.

I wiped the trail of red off of the blade and looked into my own reflection. I could see morbid amethyst eyes stare back at me in a loop of never-ending sadness.

Time came to leave my father’s house. We both stood at the front door, each bidding their good byes.

I left that day, without looking back, a new opening for the pain to release fresh on my wrist. Perhaps I could leave some of the pain back at the place in which it all began.

In the room in which the swords were, Saionji’s father walked in to do some training with the old blade he had used to teach Saionji kendo, when he picked up the sword, the bloody rag fell off of the blade, and small remnants of the blood remained on the blade.

“Saionji?” His father asked in a shocked voice as he looked at the sword with concern.

What had happened to his son?

I think that I shall never see
a billboard lovely as a tree.
Perhaps, unless the billboards fall,
I'll never see a tree at all.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. was being weird with me and wouldn’t let me update anything for a while. I don’t know what its problem was. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter and tell me what you all think.

R and R!