L' Chevalier De La Malchance
By Rob Barba, with ever helpful banter and input from Matt Campbell

_La Fillette Revolutionnaire Utena_ (_Shoujo Kakumei Utena, _Revolutionary
Girl Utena_, _Whatever We're Calling It This Week So Long As It Ends In
"Utena"_) characters are owned, trademarked, and etc. by Chiho Saito and a
whole bunch of other people.  Of course, I'm not one of them.  Which is a
shame, really.  I think it would be nice to have some sort of profit in what
I do, as would you all, but I suppose that's not likely to happen, is it?
But I digress....

Other intellectual properties belong to their respective creators/owners.
I'd tell you what they were but I'd like it to be a surprise.  I will give
you one example, though: _The Cantebury Tales_ copyright, etc. Geoffrey
Chaucer, who has been dead for at least a few years now and is not likely to
complain about the use of his work herein.  ^_^

SPOILER WARNING: this series takes place after the end of the whole
series...and I mean the whole series, though there are no plans to use
elements of the movie.  If you are familiar with only chapters 1 ~ 13 of the
series (Vols 1 ~ 4 of Software Sculptors' videos), then you may want to take
a backseat on this one.  Otherwise, enjoy.

Additional Credits: Sword and Duelists' canticles courtesy of The Utena
Encyclopedia (http://www.duelists.tj)

@}>---`---,----

"Tell me who admires you and loves you, and I will tell you who you are."
-Charles Augustin Sainte-Beauve

Deux: Ex-Cathedra

Hakkone, Honshu, Japan
August 15, 200X

    "Tomomi!" a woman's call split the air, echoing in-between the hills of
this quiet mountain fishing village, a contradiction if there ever was one.
"When you're done with the sweeping, can you give me a hand with the futons?
I need some help folding them."
    "Of course, mother," Kageyama Tomomi answered.  ((Great.  Another
wonderful use of my college degree,)) she thought sarcastically.  ((Just
like the rest of my life's going to end up, at this rate.))  Tomomi yawned
and continued sweeping the steps leading to the women's public bath of the
Kageyama ryokan.  It wasn't the first time she'd swept up here.  It wouldn't
be the last.  However, it was one hell of a total waste of her talents.
Then again, drawing water for the baths, washing the futons, doing the
waitress bit for the inn's guests, and all that sort of stuff wasn't a
stretch of her college years, either.
    Tomomi sighed.  Such was life for the only daughter of Kageyama Shidara
and Miaka.  For a while there, it looked like her younger brother Kaji would
inherit the business, leaving her free to do what she really wanted to do in
life--what she'd studied at college, for kami's sake!--but Kaji was such a
total waste of space, their parents didn't want to leave it to him.  And
with the way he was going--or rather, not going, due to a clear lack of
motivation--she'd end up being the one to take over the ryokan and be stuck
in this one-horse town forever.

((Give up your dreams, your hopes, your life.  Subside to the way of life,
the way of the Rose and of the Revolution.))

  The very odd canticle she'd heard at school so long ago crept into her
head, unbidden, and she had to laugh at that bit of tripe.  Whoever was the
moron who wrote that at school deserved that little play that she and her
friends Mei and Yuki had done of them...she could still remember the line
from that play during their senior year that made everyone laugh:
"Sssh...the maestro's decomposing!"  Most people wondered where they got the
ideas for their shadow plays, but it had always been in front of their
faces.  Mei, Yuki, and Tomomi, just three drama students and future
entertainers, putting on a little show that was more often than not a parody
of life at Ohtori Academy.  That particular play, about that musical little
twit--what had his name been?  Ah, Miki, that was it--was a
well-orchestrated little piece of satire, one of her best works.
    ((You were always the poet of the group,)) she said to herself.
((Always the one who wanted to write the scripts and fashion the words.))
But that was a part of what had made Kageyama Tomomi so popular back then.
    Finishing her sweeping, Tomomi looked at the waters of one of the
natural springs the ryokan had been built around.  One of the largest in the
town, it was a well-known inn, a family-owned business that had been here
practically since the earliest days of the land of the rising sun.  Everyone
enjoyed this place; even during the American Occupation during the war, it
was said that General McArthur had stayed here a few times.  This place
spoke of majesty.  This place spoke of tradition.  This place spoke of
serenity.
    This place was really beginning to get on her nerves.
    "Kaji, you ass," she snarled silently, as she looked at her reflection
in the water of this outdoor pool.  Just twenty-four, her long emerald hair
was tied in a Japanese ponytail and draped over her right shoulder, the
colors of her hair bringing out the yellow of her eyes.  Oddly, this seemed
to blend well with the plum-and-mist gray colors of her kimono, and enhance
her beauty.  An irony, since it had never been really what people had known
her for.
    But that's what one gets when one's high school nickname was Kage Shojo
Shiko--C-ko the Shadow Play Girl.  But hey, Shiko as a moniker beat Tomomi
any day; and since those days, that's what she preferred to be called
anyway.  There was something about the mysterious anonymity that she felt
suited her.  Well, that and doing shadow plays with Mei and Yuki...A-ko and
B-ko.
    Tomomi laughed softly at the memories of yore.  It had been a long time
since she'd thought of her friends.  Tomomi had went off to college in
Tokyo, while Mei and Yuki had gone to universities much closer to home.
They lost touch, eventually; that always happened to everyone sooner or
later in life.  What were they doing now?  Likely in Tokyo show business, or
considering how aggressive A-ko was about her acting, probably even
Hollywood.


   "Um, excuse me," a voice said from behind her.  Shiko turned around and
faced a beautiful woman her age.  "Is the bath ready now?"
    "Aa, gomen nasai," Shiko bowed, "it's been ready for about ten minutes.
I should have taken down the PLEASE WAIT sign."
    The woman smiled.  "That's okay, Shiko.  You're allowed to daydream."
Laughter filled the woman's sky-blue eyes as she said, "I know I've done it
enough times."  Slipping off her yukata, the woman's nude form slipped into
the pool as easily as a rose petal sliding down a piece of silk, looking and
feeling totally relaxed.  Shiko, looking at the woman, though, noticed
numerous scars on her body; nothing to take away her elegance and beauty,
but something that said this was no hothouse flower, either.
    "You seem to know me," she said to the woman, "but do I know you from
somewhere?"  Now that she thought of it, the girl did look sort of familiar.
    "We used to go to school together once at Ohtori," the woman answered,
"but I had to...drop out for personal reasons, so I'm not surprised you
forgot me.  I think most everyone has."  She gave Shiko a pleasant smile and
added, "but I did always enjoy your plays when I was going there.
Personally, I thought your best one was the one about the mermaid and the
dolphin--that was supposed to be about the time when they caught those two
lovers in the swimming pool, right?  Very sweet, that."  The rose-haired
woman chuckled.
    "So, ah, what brings you here, Miss--"
    "Utena.  Tenjo Utena.  And as to what brings me here, well, I'm looking
for a weapon."  She relaxed in the pool a little more, letting her words
sink in.
    "A weapon?" Shiko asked.  "I'm sorry, Tenjo-san, but we do not have
weapons here.  This inn has always been one of peace, and we really wouldn't
know what to do with weapons if we tried."
    "Shiko, you can call me Utena.  And I didn't mean those kinds of
weapons.  I meant other kinds, the type that are far more important that
guns or swords, not to mention far more dangerous."
    "What would that be?"  Shiko was caught halfway between confusion and
intrigue.  What possible thing could she be talking about?
    As if expecting the question, she said, "You, Shiko."


    There was a pause for a few minutes while birds chirped, cicadas hummed,
bees buzzed, and Shiko thought about the best way to phrase the term,
"You're as lost as a gecko in the desert."
    "I know that sounds odd," Utena commented while sitting in the spring,
"but consider this: have you ever thought about the size of Ohtori?  Most
private schools are small affairs, much smaller than public schools.  Ohtori
is almost as large as Tokyo Gakuen University.  Yet the school has only a
small number of students.  Most of the dorms are empty.  My time at Ohtori
was spent in a room where only me and one other lived in it.  And while that
wasn't the norm, most of the other dorms were pretty empty as well.
    "Another thing to consider: over the past few decades the school has
been in existence, do you know how many students have gone on to move past
the school?  The school employs nothing but graduates, and there are
actually more employees than there are students.  But of course, that would
be disproportionate, right?  So what happened to all the others?  Did you
know that in the past ten years, only four students have left Ohtori and do
things on the outside?  And two of those students never graduated from
there."
    ((This woman is completely unhinged.))  Shiko remarked, "I think you're
imagining things, Tenjo-san.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.
Please enjoy your stay here at our ryokan." Shiko turned to leave, grabbing
her broom that she'd set down and planning to get away from this weirdo.
    "Have you ever wondered what happened to A-ko and B-ko?" Utena
announced, the question hanging in the air for Shiko to grasp.
    "Not really," Shiko lied.  "They probably work for Sony in Tokyo or
maybe even Hollywood."
    "No," Utena replied.  "They're 3rd Grade teachers at Ohtori, now.  To
look at them now, you wouldn't even know that they were once two of the most
talented actors the school had ever developed...alongside you, of course.
They don't even deal with anything in regards to acting now."
    Shiko stopped in her tracks.  "But...that's impossible!  Mei always said
she was going to be a big name in the movies some day!  Yuki wouldn't
consider anything other than acting--it was her life!  Are you sure?"
    Utena stepped out of the spring, steam rising off her body as droplets
of water sloughed off her tight, athletic figure.  Reaching for her towel,
she looked at Shiko eye-to-eye and said, "Look, Shiko, I'm...."  She grinned
and said, "I've never really been good at being the mystical type of person.
I'm just too earthy a person to do this.  Would you believe before I came
here to talk to you, I read this book called _Joe Mysterious_?--it's by some
American theologian named Dr. Matthew Campbell.  Apparently it's supposed to
help you learn to be a mystic."  She rolled her eyes and drawled,
"Personally, I think I'd've been more productive if I read the latest _Star
Wars_ manga."
    "You came here to talk to me?" Shiko asked, rather surprised at the
revelation.  One is not usually sought out by people one knew a decade past
for reasons that no one can really discern.
    Utena nodded as she slipped on her yukata.  "But getting back to what I
was saying, I need your help.  You're one of the four people who have
escaped Ohtori, and we have to put a stop to it."
    "Put a stop to what?"
    "Put a stop to the End of the World before they create the Final
Revolution, of course," Utena commented, as she walked around Shiko, that
circle stopping when she was standing right behind her.  "There have only
been four people who have been able to break free of the whole cycle.
There's only we four that can do something about it, before it's too late."
    "I don't understand, Tenjo-san."
    "You will, Shiko.  You will.  I'll see you later."  With that, there was
silence, and Shiko turned around to face the other woman, but she was gone.
Shiko looked around the area, but saw no sign of where she went.  Granted,
there were a million places she could have hidden: in the nearby bamboo
grove, into the changing room, back into the water, even something as
preposterous as leaping the three and a half meters it took to make it to
the top of the roof.  There were several places she could have gone.
    The problem was, all of those moves required that the person make some
sort of noise, whether it was the rustling of the trees as she moved in, or
landing on the aged wooden tiles of the roof.  When she'd disappeared, Utena
hadn't made a single noise, not at all.  One minute here, the next minute
not.  That was, needless to say, absolutely not the norm.  Shiko continued
to look around in a bewildered state as she tried to figure out exactly
where the woman had gone.  However, her mother called for her again, and
time seemed to move forward once more as Shiko left the bathing area, the
events that had just occurred slipping into her mind for a later time.

@}>---`---,----

Singapura (Singapore City), Singapore
August 17, 200X

    In a darkened room in the legendary Orchid Hotel, Wil sat, staring at
the Singapore skyline.  He could feel the power of this city, could feel
every heart and breath of this metropolis.  And at this very moment, he was
making arrangements to make this city part of the Guerre du Monde.  The
troops he brought with him were currently in the Chinatown district at the
moment, crushing the shadow opposition to the Guerre's plans.  Soon enough,
it would come time to supplant the regular government here, and this would
become a bastion of Guerre power in Southeast Asia, one that would spread
the divine power of the Revolution.
    Pulling a pen out of his pocket, he felt compelled to write a poem about
this place.  Everyone had to have a habit, and he certainly was no
different.  Wil fancied himself an intellectual, and as an intellectual, he
felt that he should be ever faithful to the pursuits of artistic beauty.
While admittedly, it constantly earned him the reputation of a strutting,
pompous peacock amongst the other Duelists, that was merely because they had
failed to understand the concept of true intellect...and the more that they
tended to dismiss him as a "stuck-up twit with a talent at waving a pig
sticker," the more it would be his pleasure in the end to prove them all
wrong.
    As he prepared to start his epic sonnet, he was approached by two
people, ever loyal to his cause and to him.  One was his right-hand man, a
young man that went only by the name of Hideki.  An intellectual almost as
brilliant as Wil, Hideki tended not to dress as opulently--and the result of
that was that he often looked as far away from his bearing than one could
imagine.  Usually found wearing nothing more fancy than a button-up style
T-shirt and grungy, sometimes ripped jeans, it made him look quite the rock
star...and that was a charitable comment.  His long, flowing ivory hair
rolled halfway down his back, and the well-trimmed beard he wore on his face
gave his red eyes a demeanor of a Japanese version of Rob Zombie, that aged
death metal rock star from America (someone that Hideki loved to listen to
on his stereo).  Though he looked to be just about as scruffy as biker kids
in the park, Will knew the Duelist to be one of the most elegant combatants
that there ever was, a living study in contrasts.  With his choice of
weapon--the short-bladed Chinese falchion--he was allowed to Duel, though he
hadn't been good enough to work himself into the senior circle of Duelists,
let alone the Rose Council--even Wil hadn't made it on the Council...yet.
Hideki, for all his dissonance, was also one of the few other Duelists that
Wil trusted enough to call a friend.
    The other one was a marionette, or as much as one could be while being a
living person.  In truth a young, woman of some considerable beauty, she
seemed as wooden and lifeless as any puppet that danced at the end of a
string.  She stood, as though waiting to be given some sort of command.
Although she was more than capable of her own thought--whatever that would
pass for in that silly little head of hers--it seemed as though she much
more preferred to have someone controlling her life.  Which made sense.
After all, she was the Rose Bride.
    "I've a thought, Hideki," Wil said gently, not bothering to turn to face
the other.  "What are the chances of finding another Duelist here, one we
can bring into the fold?"
    "Frankly, Wil," Hideki replied, his soft voice ringing through the quiet
of the room, his red eyes flashing a sort of telegraphed danger, as though
he portended things to come.  Wil initially had found it odd that such a
soft voice could come from such a tawny-looking soul, but he'd grown used to
it since.  "I've been in contact today with End of the World."
    "Oh really?" Wil inquired, his curiosity piqued.  "And what does the
illustrious body have to say?"
    "There are reports that they may have discovered the whereabouts of two
of those who pose a threat to the Rose Code."  Hideki paused for a
millisecond, recollecting his thoughts before he continued.  "Apparently one
appeared early this morning in the Five Lakes area of Japan.  No description
was given, but the Council has sent out a group to investigate."
    Wil reached for a drink he had on a nearby table.  "I'm wondering if
that is her?"
    "Who?"
    "A woman that I encountered while in Germany," he replied smoothly,
punctuating his sentence by taking a sip from his Singapore Sling.  "A woman
full of wit and fire, oh you should have seen her, my friend!  She was of
grace and talent and beauty, and most of all, life!"
    Hideki grinned; it was always like Wil to be drawn to people with more
personality than he had.  "I see she's rather caught your fancy.  But may I
remind you that you are engaged to the Rose Bride?"
    Wil waved his hand dismissively.  "It matters little.  The chances of me
seeing her sooner or later are obvious, and when I do see her again, I will
make her mine, as she will surely come to me."  His face holding a sardonic
grin, he said, "Did you know the woman I faced that time was the previous
Rose Bride?"
    "Really?" Hideki asked, more out of conversation than actual curiosity.
Wil was a genuine friend, but after all this time, Hideki had pretty much
given up on curing Wil of his raging arrogance.
    "Quite so.  Apparently, at the very beginning, she was just as simple as
our dear Bride there," he commented loftily, gesturing in the direction of
their female counterpart.  "Somehow she transcended whatever being the bride
is, and is now a considerable power out there.  A rogue one, one that could
oppose us.  The Council would like to see her destroyed.  I would
like...something more to come of her."
    "I see," Hideki murmured, commenting no further, more out of a lack of
desire to say anything than missing details.  There was a pregnant pause for
a second, before he began again.  "Well, I must attend to seeing the status
of our men in Chinatown.  They should be done by now, and I'd rather we
avoid entanglements with the police or more of the local thugs."
    "Take care, then," Wil advised.  "I do not trust the RSP any more than I
do the Tong."
    Hideki bowed whimsically, then turned towards his goal, headed on his
appointed mission.


    Wil was left in the room with the Rose Bride.  Not bothering to pay
attention to her just yet, he closed his eyes and meditated for the answer
to who the mystery of Himemiya Anthy was.  That question burned in his mind
probably far more than it should have.  Who was she, really?  What was she
like? He thought of her as a majestic lady, proud and sure, a modern-day
swashbuckler with the sleekness of a panther and the grace of an angel.  She
seared into his mind, and he found himself wondering where she was.
    Was that normal?  Was that right?  Did that matter?  After thinking
about it, he decided it didn't; bringing about Revolution mattered far more
in the immediacy.
    Wil sighed in frustration.  He was close to asserting control over this
small island nation, and it would be all for the glory of the Guerre du
Monde, and thus by extension, his own glory.  It was somewhere just out of
his grasp yet moving closer to his orbit every day, he was sure of it.  All
that was needed was a little patience, and a little more time.  He would
soon be able to grab that brass ring, and with it all the accolades that
would happen when one brought the world into Revolution.  After all, it was
only right that one as talented and graceful as he should be the one to do
so.
    Finally, he put down his drink once more.  He picked up his pen to write
once more, to enscribe the beauty of this place from Sentosa to Sembawang
and all points in-between, but the moment had passed, and the poetry in his
soul had taken flight and moved on.  He thought of many a few more things to
do or attend to, but few of them were really elegant enough to hold his
attention.  Finally turning his attention to the Rose Bride, he bade her to
"come closer."
    "Yes, sir?"  With a sort of somber elegance, the Bride moved to his
side.  As she reached it, she kneeled at his feet and placed her head
against his leg, a sort of loving response that oddly seemed more
ritualistic than out of any actual emotive content.
    Putting his hand on her head like one would a favored lapdog, he asked
gently, "Are you happy, my Bride?"  At least that's what he figured enough
to say; anything else could have come dangerously close to being an original
statement.
    "I am the Rose Bride," she answered in a lilting tone, a pat answer in
return.  "I am happy when the one who I am engaged to is happy."
    "Don't you want more out of life?  Where's the spark you have?  Where's
your life?"
    "I am the Rose Bride, and I fulfill the wishes and dreams of who I am
engaged to," she answered, knowing that he knew that particular epiphany
already and that this was likely banter for her sake.  "That is who I am,
and what I am here for."
    "Is that all you want?"
    A pause for a second or two, then followed by a simple, "Yes."
    "Well, then."  He stood up and said, "Attend me, then."
    With apparently automatic, rehearsed movements, the Rose Bride undressed
herself, letting the opulent kimono she wore slide to the floor.  Under that
clothing, the silky smooth flesh of the young woman appeared, glowing with a
healthy beauty that took to Wil's fancy immediately.  And as the Duelist
began to undress himself as well, he never noticed as the vacant gleam in
the eye of the Rose Bride turned into one of cunning, of a person scheming a
grand design.

@}>---`---,----

Alconbury, England, United Kingdom
August 19, 200X

    "Whilom, as olde stories tellen us,
Ther was a duc that highte theseus;
Of atthenes he was lord and governour,
And in his tyme swich a conquerour,
That gretter was ther noon under the sonne.
Ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne;
What with his wysdom and his chivalrie,
He conquered al the regne of femenye,
That whilom was ycleped scithia,
And weddede the queene ypolita,
And broghte hire hoom with hym in his contree
With muchel glorie and greet solempnytee,
And eek hir yonge suster emelye.
And thus with victorie and with melodye
Lete I this noble duc to atthenes ryde,
And al his hoost in armes hym bisyde.
And certes, if it nere to long to heere,
I wolde have toold yow fully the manere
How wonnen was the regne of femenye
theseus and by his chivalrye;
And of the grete bataille for the nones
Bitwixen atthenes and amazones--"

    "Mama!  Mama!  Look at me!"  Racing by on her horse, Miri moved with the
natural grace of a well-trained rider...not bad, considering she'd only been
riding them regularly for about a couple of weeks, now.
    Watching Miri on the pony for a second or two, Anthy smiled at her
child's progress as she set aside her copy of Chaucer's work.  Miri was
taking well to her equestrian lessons, and since Anthy had bought the pony
for her, that was something that not many had, even those who lived in the
quiet English countryside.  Nor did they have personal trainers, which the
ex-cat burglar and onetime Rose Bride had also provided.  Everybody had to
have a hobby, Anthy had admitted, and if Miri wanted horses, well, it wasn't
as though they couldn't afford it.
    That of course, included herself.  Frankly, at first she wasn't sure if
they were going to survive the changes in their lives, either Miri the
stability of a family or Anthy the comfort and placidness of retirement.
However, now that they had each other to rely on from now on, perhaps that
was the key, and actually worked out for the best.  Miri found having Anthy
around on a daily basis to be the time of her young life, and Anthy found
that she could go back to some of the old routines that she had before she
went into her just-ended "career"...all but rose gardening.  She found that
to be one pleasure that she could no longer enjoy without the scars of her
past rising forth once again.
    Of course, all was not so well.  After living for years and years,
Chuchu had finally passed on two months ago.  Anthy still felt sorrow at
that; the little monkey had been the only tie she had to her past, and
though Chuchu had not been as immortal per se as she was, he was still quite
long-lived for a monkey and now was gone.  Since then, although they now had
a ferret named Solstice, it wasn't the same.  Though bright and inquisitive
(not to mention currently munching on cookies at the table), Solstice didn't
have the same quirky personality that Chuchu had.  In the end, it went back
to what Anthy had always said: Chuchu had been a friend.  Solstice was
nothing more than a pet.
    Reminiscing in bittersweet thoughts of her old friend, Anthy went back
to her copy of _The Cantebury Tales_, trying to enjoy the crisp fall
afternoon of a perfectly English day.  Just the Himemiya girls, the two of
them in their cozy little cottage in the Alconbury countryside, enjoying
life.  That's the way it should be, and the way it was.
    ((Oh, who am I kidding?)) Anthy thought after a second.  ((I enjoyed
what I was doing.  I really did.  Granted, it wasn't exactly something
someone would consider worthwhile, but to be honest, that is my business.
Frankly, sitting around is dull, dull, dull.  And if I get invited to
another neighbor's place for one more spot of tea, I'm going to go nuts!))
    "There has got to be something more fun than this," she sighed.

    Thank goodness for phone calls.

    Happily, she set down the book and reached for the phone, wondering who
it was.  Perhaps it was the local Benevolent Society, asking for a donation.
Maybe it was one of Miri's friends--the girl had met quite a few at
school--asking if she was available to play or go to a movie.  It could have
even been Oriel, who called every now and then to see how they were doing;
Anthy found she missed her old friend, one of the few she felt she could
really call that.  If she really got lucky; it would be that cute gent down
the street; while Anthy's career prevented her from having a steady
significant other, there was nothing stopping that now.  Frankly, *anybody*
would have been welcome--even if it turned out to be an operator from
British Telecom just testing the line.  "Good afternoon, Himemiya
residence."
    "Hello, Anthy," the voice on the other end answered.
    "Oh, hello, Oriel," she said, glad to hear an old friend vice a
telemarketer or somesuch.  "How are things going for you?"
    "I'm finding retirement to be as dull as you are--don't ask me how I
know that little truth," the woman responded, laughter in her voice. "But
I'm afraid I didn't call for this to be a mere conversation."
    "Well, I'll be honest, Oriel.  I retired at your suggestion," Anthy said
in a terse voice, adding, "and I'm loving the extra time I'm spending with
my daughter.  Yes, retirement can be a monotony, but I plan to stick with
it."  She let a few more seconds pass before laughing and revealing, "And
you're probably the only one I would come out of retirement for.  So what's
the deal?  The French contact you to get a hold of Chevalier's services?"
    "Not really.  It is a rather interesting task I have for you, but it's
not being handled by any organization or nation I've ever heard of.  It's
apparently by a single individual.  I don't remember much about the person,
save that the name was Calyx Goodskies...does that ring a bell with you?
I've never heard the name."
    Anthy froze in her seat.  ((Coincidence.  It has to be.))  Yet something
told her it wasn't, that just as she'd given up reaching for the brass ring,
it had begun to shine with a brighter light.  ((Utena....)) Anthy mentally
whispered, unable to dare believe what things were telling her.  Back on a
slow day during their time at Ohtori, Utena had been helping her on research
for a report on languages, and somewhere along the line, the topic had
skewed into name meanings in other languages and equivalents.  While Anthy's
name was a French derivative of the Greek word for flower (something she
already knew) and her last name had meant Shrine of the Princess (for some
reason, the computer had suggested "Princeton" as an English equivalent to
her surname), the oddball one went to Utena.  Looking on the computer,
Utena's name had come up in English as Calyx (which was not a common name by
any stretch...not that Utena was common in Japanese, either), while Tenjo
had been transliterated by the site as "Goodskies".  They'd laughed at the
unusualness about it, and went back to their research.
    Now, ten years later, the name Calyx Goodskies had popped into her life.
Coincidence?  Possibly, but not likely.  Was it really a sign from Utena?


    "No...the name really doesn't sound familiar to me," Anthy lied.  Better
to be safe than sorry.  While she did trust Oriel completely and the line
was scrambled, she wasn't sure this was something that should be up for
discussion.  "I may have run across the person before I started working for
you, but I can't say the name's familiar, and a name like that certainly
anyone would remember."
    "Just checking; I found the name rather odd, myself.  In any case, I'll
need you to head over to Venezia as soon as you can.  I'll be meeting you
there, and from there we can discuss the terms of the contract.  I don't
know how much it is, but considering I was given a million euros just to
find Chevalier, the bid for your services must be very high indeed."  Oriel
sounded as though it were nothing more than old times, though the truth was
plain: there would be no safety net this time.  Granted, there wasn't much
of one the previous times, but there was a world of difference between scant
help and no help. "I realize what I'm asking is rather odd, considering that
as you said, I was the one who suggested you retire.  But I've asked Hervé
to do some research for me, and it turns out that the assignment happens to
be in the same area as a suspected Guerre facility."
    "So you suspect that this Goodskies fellow must be on a vendetta of his
own," Anthy finished.
    "Between you and me, I actually think it's the American CIA.  They do
things like this all the time to keep their hands clean.  But if it affects
the Guerre, I'm all for it.  But this is something that I thought you'd be
aware of, and see if you wish to come out of retirement for it.  I already
told them that there was no guarantee that Chevalier would reappear."
    "But you're asking me to do it."
    "Yes.  I want revenge, Anthy.  I'm an old woman, and with me no longer
having as much access to secrets as I used to, it makes it harder.  All I
can do is things like this, and even that takes your help.  I'm not trying
to be forward on this, but you once told me that Chevalier would aid a woman
in need.  Is that still a maxim?"
    "Please, Oriel, don't be patronizing," Anthy said as years of memories,
longing, wondering, and just about every emotion that Anthy had ever had
began to rush into the forefront of her mind like a four-car pileup on the
local highway.  Her mind already elsewhere, and though it seemed rude, she
wasn't even really listening to Oriel at this point.  Her decision had
already been made.
    "Anthy, you're my only hope."
    "And as you said, Chevalier is gone, nothing but a memory.  But I
wouldn't be adverse to helping you out in this situation, Oriel."
((Especially since I have something of my own to investigate there.))
"Would Monday be quick enough for you?" she asked.  She felt conflicted, as
though a long weight had begun to be lifted, even as the shadow of a larger
weight loomed overhead.  But suddenly it all dissipated under the light of
divine truth: unless it was one of those Grade-A, once in a lifetime
coincidences, Utena had finally resurfaced, and was now calling to Anthy.
    There was no way in hell that Anthy was going to refuse that call.
    Not knowing what was going on, Oriel continued.  "Okay, then.  I'll
reserve you a room at the Hotel Piazza di Venezia, in the new quarter.
Check in there, and that afternoon, I'll meet you in the canal quarter, at a
little restaurant named Castillo di Bonamico.  Until then, Anthy."  There
was the click of a disconnect, the second or two of silence, followed by the
ready tone, but by that time, Anthy was already ignoring the phone, too lost
in her rapture.
    Anthy leapt to her feet instantly, like a cat moving to her feet.  There
was a boundless joy in all of this action, and it showed in her face.  Life
was an adventure, she had known in her years of freedom, and it was
something she treasured daily.  And that freedom throughout her long life
had been due to Utena.  And now, finally, Anthy stood to reunite with her
beloved Utena.  There was absolutely no way at all that she would not.


    "Mama?"  Anthy turned around to see Miri siting on the horse, just a few
feet away, watching her mother suddenly leap to her feet and dance around,
acting silly.  "What are you doing?"
    "Oh, Miri!  Something wonderful just happened!" Anthy raced over and
hugged the girl, total enthusiasm in her heart.
    Miri looked at Anthy and said, "You mean you're gonna go back to work?"
That was a little unexpected, but before Anthy could ask, Miri said, "You
always look so bored and unhappy, Mama.  Don't you want to be with me?"
    Anthy brushed Miri's hair out of her eyes.  "Of course I do, dear.  But
let me ask you this: do you like riding horses?"  When Miri nodded in the
affirmative, Anthy said, "Well, I liked what I worked at."
    "But I don't want you to go!"
    "Dear, I'd rather not, but sometimes each person has something to do
that has to take them away from the people they love.  Utena taught me that.
How can I best explain it?"  Anthy pursed her lips while thinking of an
example.  "Okay, look at it this way: you love riding horses, right? And a
lot of times, you have to go to horse riding practice without me.  You know
I'm always here, but you can't see me.  It's the same thing, really.  My
assignments don't always allow me to have you with me, but you know I always
come back, right?"  Miri nodded once more and Anthy said, "Okay, I'll tell
you what: just this once, you can come with me, but only to the site--and
definitely not while I'm working, understand?"
    "So where are we going?"
    Anthy grinned inwardly; no fooling this kid.  "We're going to Venice for
a couple of days.  We can go on some canal boats and such while I'm doing a
study of the site, okay?  Oriel will be there, and I'll ask her to bring her
granddaughter along so you'll have someone to keep company with."
    "So, what are you going to steal this time?"  Anthy silently noted that
she would have to correct her daughter's casualness about discussing her
mother's profession.  While the majority of work over the years had been
assignments from Oriel, she had done quite a bit of freelancing, as well as
"self-employment"--she still had the stolen Reniors to prove it.
Truthfully, while it was one thing to be an independently wealthy woman
living in England, it was quite another to have your next door neighbor (who
was a local bobby) find out you were responsible for the break-in at
Buckingham Palace last year, not to mention dozens of several high-profile
cat burglaries around the world.  Being arrested might very well ruin her
positive standing in the local community.  On the bright side, at least it
would stop all those damn tea invitations....
    "Oriel and I are going to be doing something for someone."
    "Is it the Prince?" Miri asked, her voice full of awe.  Anthy couldn't
help but chuckle at that; she'd spoken in such glowing, awesome terms of
Utena, the child half-believed Tenjo Utena to be a mythic figure.
    "Not likely, dear," Anthy responded, and it was at this simple statement
that reality finally kicked in.  What proof did she have that it was Utena
who was asking for her?  It had been ten years--how would Utena have any way
of knowing Anthy's alter-ego?  The pair hadn't run across each other in that
time, so there was no way she could know.  Additionally, the computer had
suggested "Goodskies" as an equivalent surname.  That would have to mean
someone had that name.  Though the chances were that it could be Utena, the
chances were higher that it was not, and that this was that Grade-A
coincidence.  Anthy mentally chastised herself for potentially walking
herself into an idiotic situation.
    Miri pouted.  "I was hoping to meet her."
    "So was I, sweetheart, so was I."  Hugging her daughter once more, she
smiled and said, "Well, I have to do some research tonight.  So you know
what that means?"
    "Movies?" Miri asked hopefully.
    Anthy nodded.  "If you want to invite a few of your friends over for a
sleep-in party, you may do that, too.  As for me, I have to go inside and
start looking up the information I need...not to mention to call for the
pizzas."  Miri cheered at that news, and headed her horse towards the
stables as Anthy went in towards the house, stopping only to pick up
Solstice and set him on her shoulder.  It was going to be a long night of
Disney films for the kids...and a long night for herself as well.  Anthy
brushed her bangs out of her eyes and smiled; at least she would get to get
in a couple of hours of relaxation in.
    After all, the two movies she usually watched for research, most people
in the world considered nothing but mindless entertainment.  But for her,
_The Saint_ and _Hudson Hawke_ had been two of the best films on her style
of cat burglary that she knew.  Okay, okay, okay, so it really didn't have
much value other than mindless entertainment, but hey, as the saying went,
all work and no play makes for a dull Anthy--and she was rather sick of
being dull these past few months, thank you.  She was even sure that Mssrs.
Kilmer and Willis had found amusing the number of thank-you notes that
Chevalier had sent them over the years.

@}>---`---,----

Palm Springs, California, United States
August 19, 200X

    ((Okay, bottle, check.  Other bottle, check.  All clear.  Now, I can get
back to my personal oblivion,)) the woman thought as she poured a sizable
rum and Coke.  It hadn't been the first she'd had tonight.  It wouldn't be
the last.  Maybe if she was lucky, she could drink herself to death tonight.
Not likely, though.
    But before the bottle began to dispense its contents into the glass, she
found it swiped out of her hands.  "Gimme that!" she snarled.
    "No."  Utena's voice was firm.  "I refuse to see you destroy yourself,
Nanami."
    "Fuck you, Utena.  Get the hell out of my house.  How did you get in,
anyway?"  Nanami slumped on the table in her house, hoping that Utena would,
for just once, actually listen.
    No dice.  "You gave me a key, remember?"  Utena held up a silver
housekey that she'd fished out of her pocket.  "You asked me to help you,
Nanami.  I'm doing that."
    "You want to help?"  Nanami's words were as thick as stone.  "Go kill
those bastards who killed...."  Nanami trailed off, biting back a sob.
"Kill them, or kill me.  Or kill them and me.  I don't care anymore."
    "I do," Utena remarked, pulling the glass out of the woman's hands.  "Or
do you enjoy putting your friends through this?"
    "All I want is to die.  Die and be with him."  Nanami turned to look at
Utena, hatred glaring in her brown eyes even as they began to well.  "We
never even got the chance to get married, Utena," she moaned.  "I loved him!
We had a life together, and all I wanted to do was to free him from their
grasp, to be free like me.  And just when I finally managed to do that,
*they killed him*!"
    Utena reached out to embrace Nanami, even as the blonde hugged back,
leaning into her.  It wasn't the first time she did this; this had become de
rigeur for the past three months since she'd located Nanami.  At least it
hadn't been as bad as the first time, when Utena had saved Nanami from
committing suicide.  At least she was in slow burn now; that was at least
controllable, and from that point, the rose-haired woman could stop her
friend's slide into oblivion.  "Yes, you could do that, and it would be
rather easy.  But let me ask you this: would Mitsuru's spirit be at peace,
knowing that you simply gave up?"  Nanami looked up at Utena with the
helplessness of a child, but Utena continued.  "Nanami, I've been struggling
for years trying to find out who I am and why I've become what I am.  During
those years, I've learned a couple of things about life.  One of those has
been that when people hurt you, you can take two roads.  You can forgive,
you can take revenge, or you can fight for justice."
    "That's three roads," Nanami pointed out.
    "...right.  Anyway, you can take three roads.  Forgiveness, revenge, or
justice."
    "I could also die."
    "Okay, four roads.  When someone hurts you, you can die, forgive,
revenge, go for justice, or stop hassling me about how many roads there
are."
    "That's five--"
    *"NANAMI!"*
    The blonde looked up at Utena sullenly.  "I can't even throw in a little
gallows humor, huh?"
    "You're so depressed nowadays, I never know when you *are* joking,"
Utena pointed out.  Silence at that point was the order of the minute,
until...


    "I want revenge," Nanami murmured angrily.
    Hearing that, Utena let Nanami go, allowing the woman to fall out of her
seat and crash violently to the floor.  Turning to walk away, Utena hissed,
"Then do it on your own.  I'm not going to participate in revenge.  I didn't
come here to watch you kill yourself, and if you go for revenge, then you
may as well blow your head off!"
    "When the fuck did you get so fuckin' high and mighty!  I remember a
certain girl at the end of her days in Ohtori who was lashing out at just
about everything there was!"
    *"AND LOOK WHAT IT GOT ME!"* Utena screamed.  *"DO YOU KNOW WHAT I HAVE
BEEN THROUGH THE PAST TEN YEARS?  DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW?  ARE YOU SO
DAMN SURE THAT YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE LINGERING EFFECTS OF REVENGE TRULY
MEANS?!?!?!?!?!"*  Nanami looked up into Utena's eyes and not only saw anger
and a holier-than-thou righteousness, but also...fear?  A second went by
before she whispered, "I'm sorry.  I've worn myself out the past few days
shuttling all over hell and gone.  I didn't mean to yell."  She raised her
hand to hear head, as though massaging a headache as she said, "But I won't
allow you to kill yourself, and going for something like revenge will, trust
me on that.  Besides, getting revenge isn't the answer; it's not
satisfaction, it's a cancer that will eat you alive."
    "So help me, then," Nanami grunted as she got back to her feet.
    Utena pulled something from her pocket.  "Help yourself, first.  Go dry
out for a few days, Nanami.  If you want my help, then you had better be
damn well ready to participate.  Only then can we take down the Rose
Council."  Utena yawned and said, "I'm dead tired.  I'm going to crash.
Where's your guest bedroom?"
    Nanami gave her a dark look.  "You come into my house uninvited, insult
me, and now you want to do a Kato Kaelin?"
    "What's a Kato Kaelin?"
    Nanami shook her head.  "Forget it--you have to live in Cali to know
that.  Down the hall, second door on the right," she replied in a resigned
tone.  "I'll assume you'll be wanting breakfast in the morning, too."
     Wrong thing to say.  Utena's eyes lit up with that comment as she
replied, "Thanks, I'll take you up on that offer.  See you in the morning."
Utena headed for the bedroom, and as an afterthought, said, "And stay off
the liquor, Nanami."
    "Sure thing, mom," Nanami snapped sarcastically, punctuating it with a
"Goddamn frigid bitch."


    Nanami Kiryu stared at the envelope for a few more minutes before slowly
stumbling upstairs and into her bedroom.  Closing the door, she went into
the bathroom and, wincing as she turned on the light in the bathroom (oddly,
the only light in the house that was now on, which was probably why it had
been so harsh).  Looking into the mirror, she ignored her beautiful face,
framed by her Anniston-style hairdo and complimented by a gorgeous body that
showed through the tanktop and tight jeans.  She only saw her bloodshot,
tearstained eyes, the true indicators of what she'd turned herself into.
She could no longer see any of the beauty in herself that had attracted
Mitsuru to her.
    It had only been a decade ago when 14-year-old Kiryu Nanami came once
again into the life of Tsuwabuki Mitsuru, age 10. She'd treated him horribly
in a childish attempt to gain the attention of her older brother, only to
find that her brother had always loved her (or so she'd thought at the time)
and that she'd been unfair to Mitsuru.  Eventually, Toga took Mitsuru under
his wing and began to mentor him, turning the bold kid into a smaller
version of himself, and giving Nanami a whole new way of looking at him.
    Friendship with Mitsuru turned into love, eventually.  As that had
occurred, her reputation fell into decline at the school--imagine the
scandal of a senior in high school dating a freshman--and her friends
abandoned her; in retrospect it had been a blessing, as it finally showed
Keiko's, Aiko's and Yuko's true colors.  Once she left the school,
disillusioned and a sort of pariah, she never looked back, even though she
kept in touch with her lover.  Just as bad, her relationship with her
brother had changed from love to animosity as he began to treat Mitsuru with
more attention than he did her; this was no longer petty jealousy on her
part, as she realized that she had never meant much to him and that he only
watched out for her due to protect his own reputation.
    Once she had left, she had almost lost him to the Duels; he had become
so involved with it, it had become a religion to him, and Nanami, seeing
things from the outside, now realized what she had been involved with.
They'd argued many a time, and there had even been a month-long period where
they refused to even see each other due to an argument, but love had
prevailed and kept them together throughout the years until his own
graduation.  By then, she'd gotten a scholarship to a college in America,
and she vowed never to go back to Japan.  This was cemented as her parents
were killed in an accident a few months later; she took her half of the
inheritance and moved herself permanently to America, investing her money
and paying for Mitsuru's own college at the same university that she'd gone
to.
    During that time, they'd been free.  She and her Mits, living life away
from the mysterious past.  They'd agreed to get married when he graduated
from UC Palm Springs, and not a happier pair could you have seen in that
little corner of the Southern California desert. Now, two years into their
life together here, six months after she'd started planning details on the
wedding, all had been taken away from her.
    They'd found his body in his car, bloody and still pockmarked from the
bullets, in downtown San Diego, a hundred miles southwest or so of where
they lived.  SDPD ruled the killing a tragic accident, an unintended killing
during a drive-by rampage that some gang had perpetrated against a rival
group.  It didn't seem to matter to them that the day before, Mits had told
her he was going to Avalon for the weekend with a few friends of his; it
didn't seem to matter to them that Avalon, on Catalina Island some fifty
miles off the coast of Los Angeles' San Pedro district, was nowhere near San
Diego.  They never found the killers, and as Mitsuru was buried, the police
promised to continue their search, even as they filed it into a CASE
UNSOLVED status.
    Police incompetence regardless, Nanami knew who killed her love.  It was
clear to her, even though they didn't believe her suggestions.  The design
on the car looked old, as though the detailing had been there since the day
she bought it for him on his arrival in the US.  But Nanami knew damn well
that neither she nor he had ever placed a pale gray Rose Sigil on the gas
cap cover of his car.  That was a warning to her: you took something from
us, and now you pay.  She even knew who would do something like that, and
she knew that she, fervent never to set foot in her homeland again, could
never gain vengeance against the man who killed her would-be husband, the
man she'd dedicated her life to.
    Kiryu Toga, her own brother.  He'd never really left Ohtori.  When he
was going to college, he tutored Mitsuru and made sure he was the prime
Duelist there, until Mitsuru had been defeated by a foreign exchange student
from the Netherlands.  When her brother had graduated from his university,
he'd instantly taken a job as one of the high school teachers.  It seemed
that Ohtori Academy was more of a family to him than she'd been.  Looking
back now, she wondered how she could ever have loved a brother who clearly
never gave a damn about her.  It was all about Ohtori, and the surrogate
self he'd created through Mits.  And when that surrogate chose to leave for
love, especially with Nanami, that must have been final insult to Toga and
those Ohtori bastards.  So they took their revenge against her, and now Mits
was buried in a cemetery a couple of miles away from here.
    Nanami's eyes raged with hatred for her brother.  Oh, how much she
wanted to "exercise her constitutional rights" as she heard so often, go buy
a gun, and hunt down her brother like the stinking dog she knew him to be.
She would have no problem killing him.  But she didn't do that.  And rather
than dwelling on that option, she chose to slide into oblivion without
Mitsuru, a strong woman lost without her reason to be strong, drifting until
lost forever afloat on the seas of despair.
    Enraged, she didn't even remember punching the mirror once, yet several
times.  All she could remember next was staring at her bloody right hand,
cut from smashing it into the glass of the bathroom mirror over and over
again.  She was helpless to redeem herself.


    But maybe Utena had given her a chance to do so.  Right, sure.  Utena
wouldn't have come out of the blue out of pure altruism.  Their paths hadn't
crossed in a decade, and now Utena was here to play shining knight?
Apparently that nickname that she'd picked up at Ohtori--"The Prince"--had
gone to her head.  The question was, which prince was she emulating?
Charming, or Machiavelli's?  Was she truly being a friend to Nanami, or was
the she a convenient pawn on a chessboard?
    Nanami ripped open the envelope, allowing what appeared to be airline
tickets to slide out of it.  She looked at the ticket, reading the cryptic
information through her tears: United Airlines flight 2214, nonstop to Rome,
then Alitalia flight 322 to Venezia International.
    Nanami was taken aback.  Venice, Italy?  Why Venice?
    ((Why not?)) her mind answered.  She couldn't think of a response, one
way or the other.
    (("I'm not going to let you kill yourself, Nanami."))  Utena's words
from last week rang in her head.  (("You have so much to live for."))  Utena
gave her the ticket to live, but there was a second meaning behind it: Utena
would only send Nanami there if there was a feasible way to strike back at
those who had nearly ruined her life.  The people of her adopted home here
had a saying: God helps those who help themselves.  It was a double-edged
sword.  Nanami would be stepping into Utena's world, not the other way
around.  Would she allow herself to be used like that?
    With that, Nanami set down the tickets and headed into the bedroom,
proper.  She wanted answers from Utena before she said yes or no, and she
was going to get them.  If Utena was using her, she'd just tell her to fuck
off and go find another chess piece.  But if Utena was really a friend...and
the kami knew that Nanami could really use one right now...the rose-haired
woman would come off her mystical bodhisattva attitude long enough to be
upfront with her.  After all, that's the Utena that Nanami remembered, not
this Sturm und Drang woman of mysteries that Utena had been since she
reentered Nanami's life.
    And if she was lucky, Utena was on the up and up, and this was truly a
way of striking against Ohtori.  And if that was the case...
...those bastards at Ohtori would rue the day they had ever heard the name
Nanami Kiryu.

@}>---`---,----

Hakkone, Honshu, Japan
August 24, 200X

    Shiko woke up softly in the middle of the night, trying to remember the
fragments of her weird dream.  In it, Utena appeared, reminding her of the
conversation she'd had with the woman a week ago.  During the following
days, Shiko had naturally dismissed the stuff as the prattle of a person not
quite right in the head.  After all, there was a reason that Tenjo Utena had
left the Academy, and though she couldn't remember why (she barely
remembered that she had gone to the school), it wasn't too far-fetched to
think that insanity might have been the answer.
    Rubbing her eyes, Shiko looked at the clock on the wall.  It was two in
the morning, and she was wide-awake.  Maybe a nice soak in the hot springs
would do, followed by going back to bed.  It was her day off today, and so
she would spend it in a peaceful way.  She thought about asking her friend
Michie if she wanted to go to Chukoku no Mori-ku and the open-air museum
there.  They had just rebuilt the Picasso Museum, and supposedly there were
a few new works of the artist that had been acq--


    "I see you're awake," a deep, male, and most importantly, unfamiliar
voice said.  "Don't bother to get up, you're not going to be able to."
Nevertheless, Shiko tried, and found that she couldn't move and that she'd
lost control of her body; she couldn't even scream out in fear.  All she
could do was stare in fear at this voice coming from the darkened corner of
her room.  "I told you that you couldn't."
    Out of that dark corner came a man shrouded in a black cloak, the hood
covering his eyes and obscuring the rest of his features, though Shiko
guessed that he was probably about the same age as she was.  Other shapes as
well came out of the darkness, some of them looking familiar, people she
knew in her past.  And for those that she didn't know, their clothing said
it all: they wore the militaristically designed uniforms of Ohtori Academy,
specifically the male uniform.  Several of them also appeared to be armed
with weapons, swords of various designs or other.
    They were in her room, and they could mean her harm.
    They were from Ohtori.
    With what little motor control she still had over her body, she blinked.
And blinked again.
    The strange man in the cloak chuckled.  "I'm afraid this is no dream,
Kageyama Tomomi-san.  Or should I just call you C-ko?"  Giving her a dark,
terse smile, he said, "I, as well as my escorts, are here from Ohtori
Academy's Alumni Organization.  We've come...to ask you a few questions."
    "I wasn't aware making contributions to the Alumni Association was
mandatory," she drawled, trying to mask her fear.  She would have added
more, but she found herself unable to even speak.  And as that sank in,
Shiko began to have the sinking suspicion that the "madwoman" Tenjo Utena
may not have been two hachi short a bento after all.
    "I will make this simple for you, Kageyama-san.  If you answer my
questions correctly, you will be left in peace.  If you do not, I'm afraid I
will have to resort to unpleasantries," the cloaked man said, in a sorrowful
tone which Shiko knew was as heartfelt as penguins sitting in Antartica and
complaining about the heat.  "I will now allow you to speak, though you will
not be able to do so above a whisper.  Do you understand?"  As Shiko gave a
nervous nod, the man asked, "Okay, first question: where is the Prince?"
    "The Prince?" Shiko shakily answered.  "What Pri--"  She was unable to
say more as she suddenly could not breathe.  As she looked forward, she
noted the man stood there, merely holding out his hand in a fist.
Illuminated by the moonlight coming into her room, the hand was slender,
well manicured and unadorned, save for a gold ring with a pink gem set in
it.
    "If you persist in such games, Kageyama-san, I'm afraid that I will have
to attend to your errantry in a rather uncomfortable manner.  I would rather
not."  He chuckled and added, "It would be such a mess to have to clean up."
He lowered his hand, and at once Shiko was able to breathe again, gasping
and pulling air into her tortured lungs.  "Gentlemen, if you would, please."
    Two thugs stepped out of the shadow to stand beside the cloaked man.
Frightfully enough, she recognized them as two people she'd gone to school
with, the one on the right had even once asked her out on a date (though
she'd declined).  Both stared at her with looks of fervent hatred, as though
she was the basest thing in this world.  But that wasn't the worst.  The
truly horrific part about all of this is that the pair held her parents
hostage, razor-sharp blades held to each of their necks.  Additionally, the
bruises and blood on her father's face showed that they were not joking and
that he'd been taken down hard.  The look in her parents' eyes was one of
bewilderment and a complete lack of understanding as to why this was
happening.  She could understand this easily; she wasn't that much far ahead
from what they knew.
    Shiko looked at the scene before her, total horror creeping into her
mind.  He meant to kill her and her family, here and now unless she gave
answers to questions of which she had no knowledge.  Why?  For what reason?
Who was the Prince?  Who was this person, for that matter, with his
entourage of thugs and the ability to stop her from breathing.  It was all
just way too freaking weird.  And it was likely going to end up with the end
of her and her family.
    "Now, I'll ask again, for the last time.  Where is the Prince?"  At
those words, Shiko sat in silence for a second or two, watching the
horrified look on her parents' faces, feeling a cold bead of perspiration
roll down her face.  She wasn't sure how to answer that, and any mistake
might be her last.  Even simply sitting there, not answering, could be a
wrong answer.
    "It wasn't a hard question," the man spoke.  "If you do not answer now,
I will have to assume that you do not wish to, and I will have to deal with
that accordingly...and you may not like how I do so."

    Shiko was ready to say, "I don't know," and pray to the gods and Buddha
that a miracle occurred.
    Fortunately, she never got a chance to answer that.

To be continued...

@}>---`---,----

Mata ne,
Rob
primary: rob@yogipigs.org  secondary: mara@megami.net
AIM: Mitsukai com   ICQ: 45925353
Mitsukai! http://www.mitsukai.com
Sailor Moon AX: http://www.yogipigs.org/sailormoon-ax/
Studio YOGIPIGS: http://www.yogipigs.org
A Long Strange Webpage: http://www.yogipigs.org/ALSW/