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

Proprietary rights and notes listed at the end of the chapter.

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 Author's note: to all Francophones (French speakers), the title
is intentional.  Whether you think it incorrect or not, it is being written
this way on purpose.

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

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

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

Trois: Premeditation

    From her viewpoint, Shiko's definition of surreal was probably going to
have to be revised tonight.  Here she was, trying to get a good night's
sleep, and she found herself bound and her parents captured by some bunch of
nutcase Yakuza from Hell, with a leader who was just a little too spooky for
her tastes--actually, a *lot* too spooky for her tastes.  And if that wasn't
enough, amongst the assembly of scum who apparently thought themselves to be
the local chapter of Evil Fencers R Us, yet another person decided to take
up space in her already crowded room.
    Standing in the darkness of the room, body silhouetted by the light of
the full moon streaming in through the windows, was a new figure.  The body
shape was lithe, thin, and female.  The light illuminated the edges of the
woman, including long rose-hued hair and black clothing, and the fact that
she had her arms crossed in front of her.  She didn't say anything, as
though simply being there was enough.  And maybe it was.
    "So," Mr. I-Doth-Be-So-Bad said, "You've arrived."
    The figure turned her head ever so slightly, and the moonlight revealed
the obvious: it was Utena.  Giving the group a look of challenge, she
continued to address their leader: "Yes, I have.  And I see you have as
well, complete with robes and a cloak.  Since when did End of the World go
for the seminary look?"
    "We felt it best to leave the Sergeant Pepper crossdressing business to
you," the man replied, returning the taunt.
    "Sorry; the John Lennon look was never for me." Utena said in what
sounded like a whimsical tone--Shiko was a bit discomforted at that; she
thought that Utena would take the situation a bit more seriously.  "Let them
go.  They're innocent."
    "That's not the point, is it?" laughed The Cloak.  "They've seen us.
That's enough."
    "So you're just going to kill them?"
    "No, I'm also going to kill you, them, and anyone else here, then burn
this place to the ground, and the press will label it a tragic gas
explosion."
    "Oh, good--for a minute I thought you were going to try some other
cliché and stupid plan that's going to fail."  There was another whimsical
tone in Utena's voice, and it was really beginning to grate on Shiko's
nerves.  "Since you're taking a shot at predicting the future, I don't
suppose you can tell me who's going to win the World Series this year, could
you?  Personally, I'm hoping for the Tokyo Giants, but I hear that Anaheim
is having a pretty unstoppable year over in the States."
    Shifting ever so slightly, Shiko noticed that Utena had relaxed her
composure somewhat, and for some reason that made Shiko feel even tenser.
However, from where she sat, Shiko saw the merest hint of metal gray in her
hands and wondered what it was.  A gun, maybe?
    "Well, we may as well get this show on the road."  Utena raised one of
her hands, and snapped her fingers.  At once, Shiko instantly felt some sort
of intangible bond snap into nothingness around her as her body control came
back to normal.   Not wanting to be caught again, she immediately scrambled
behind Utena, hiding like a child behind her mother.  Seeing Shiko move to
safety, Utena lowered her hand back to its original position.  Looking down
at Shiko, she asked, "Are you okay?"
    "No!" Shiko snapped.  "I've got all this shit going on in my room, we're
all going to be killed by these psychos, and you're acting like it's Open
Mike Night at the local comedy club!"
    "Trust me.  I've got a plan," Utena said with a grin and a wink.
    "I really hope so."  Shiko began hoping that said plan also came with
lots of law enforcement and/or military backup.


    The man's lips pursed in a ghost of a smile.  "I'd rather not bother to
stain my clothes with your blood as I chop you to bits.  I trust the talents
of my men to deal with you, instead.  In fact, I'll even have them let the
Kageyama family go, as a measure of faith in them."  He nodded to his men,
and Shiko's parents were released.  While Shiko's mother fainted, her father
was merely slammed on the side of the head by a fist, rendering him
unconscious.  "However, I'd rather my forces not be distracted, either."
Just as a precaution, one of the Duelists found it necessary to kick Shiko's
mother in the head, making things worse.
    *"Mother!  Father!"* Shiko screamed, terror continuing to make its path
in her mind, even as the logical part of her mind reminded her that a:
screaming was going to get her noticed in a rather unkind way; and b: it
wasn't likely to do her parents one damn bit of good under the
circumstances.  ((I really hope Utena's plan works and doesn't involve me
getting used as a pincushion,)) Shiko mentally sniped.  She would likely
have said it out loud, but the least thing she wanted to do was to give
these guys any ideas.
    The young woman smiled, playing her trump card.  "How pathetic,
Saionji."  At the cloaked man's visual reaction, the rosehair smiled and
continued.  "Yes, that's right, I know who you are...and what you've become.
I know your plans, and I'm going to thwart them.  You think that
ruthlessness brings you power, Saionji, just because it's made you powerful,
just because it's made you powerful, and....  No wait, I mean...." Utena
hissed in frustration.

    The cloaked man pulled back his hood, revealing a face that Shiko
recognized, though time had obviously left its mark there.  Looking back at
her and Utena with the same scarlet eyes and green hair was Saionji Kyoichi,
though clearly no longer the dashingly bishonen captain of the Academy's
kendo club that he'd once been.  Though his face still radiated the
arrogance and power that was in his soul, his long verdant locks had long
since been shorn, replaced with a rather mundane hairstyle that made him
look like a refugee from a 90s singing group that Shiko had liked back then.
Additionally, he had a short mustache that added to a harsh, militaristic
cast for him.  All in all, between the dark robes he wore and the look on
his face, he appeared to be very much the image of an evil sorcerer from
some fantasy anime.
    ((It sure feels like it, anyway,)) Shiko mentally noted, hoping that she
was one of the main characters and not Victim #1.
    A snicker came from Saionji's lips, as though the situation were
comical.  "You can't even make a decent speech, Tenjo-san."  Saionji stared
at Utena, his own eyes filled with contempt.  "I would kill you now, but as
I said, I have faith in my men, and I must leave to pass onto the Council of
how your counterrevolution has failed."  Having nothing more to contribute
to this useless diatribe, he turned with a flourish, his robe flapping in
the turn like the dark wings of a bat taking flight into the sky, and within
seconds, he'd disappeared into the darkness from which he came, leaving only
his horde of men and those they opposed.
    A split second after he'd left, Saionji's men drew various types of
swords, all sharp and likely to be used against her.  Someone flicked a
switch, and both sides were blinded for a second as the lights came on,
though still braced for a fight.  The light also revealed the door Saionji
had left through, a not-so mystical departure as he'd made it to appear.
    In any case, Utena simply continued to stand there, though Shiko felt as
though there was an electric motion around Utena, the tigress eagerly
crouching to spring at her prey, while the prey seemed a bit confused as if
they should actually kill her or not.  That was implied, but it wasn't as
though Saionji had given direct orders or anything....
    Shiko looked up at her. "Um, Utena, what do we do now?"
    Without taking her eyes off her foes, Utena answered, "You'll grab your
parents and get the hell out of here, then try to evacuate whatever guests
you have.  I'll buy you as much time as I can, but I can't promise you
anything--I haven't learned how to be in two places at once.  Yet."  The
tone at the end of the statement almost sounded as though Utena was
half-serious.  Somehow, Shiko had an understanding of what Utena was going
to do, so she got to her feet, standing a slight distance away.


    Thus the Mexican standoff between Utena and some fifteen goons with
swords who fancied themselves Duelists continued, each of them with swords
at the ready and determination in their eyes, and Utena still lacking an
offensive or defense posture.  One particularly bold thug, a dark-skinned
woman with lime-green hair and orange eyes fixed her eyes on Utena, waiting
for the least bit of movement.
    Utena gave her a foe a coy smile and replied, "What shall I do now?  I
could go back out the way I came in, but climbing through windows generally
isn't my style.  So you'll just have to put up with me."  With that, Utena
flicked her wrist...
    ...and the weirdness commenced.
    ((As though everything up to this point had been normal to begin with,))
Shiko mentally moaned.

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

Venezia (Venice), Italy
August 23, 200X

    "So, you are Calyx Goodskies?" an older woman asked as she sat down at
the table in the Cafe di Brescante, a cafe situated on Murano Island, in the
middle of Venice's canal quarter.  Nestled amongst the glassmakers and the
beachgoers, it was a nice neutral place to meet for something like this.
    "I'm afraid not," Nanami replied as she set down her cappuccino on the
table.  "I'm an associate of Mr. Goodskies, just as you represent Mr.
Knight, I presume."  This was the story that she and Utena had settled on;
the 'Mr. Knight' comment was just an added layer of safety to protect this
woman's client and thus gain some extra points in their favor.  However,
Nanami also thought of this situation as just another one of the strange
shit that Utena had seemed to drag around her like a piece of luggage. "My
name is Natasha.  Natasha Kirin, and you would be, ah, Ariel LeBon, ne?"
    "But of course, Miss Kirin. It is a pleasure to meet you," the woman
replied.
    "It is a pleasure to be met.  And please, call me Natasha." Nanami said
smoothly.  She looked casually at her associate, examining her as the woman
made herself comfortable.  Though she appeared to be of middle age, her
beauty had still remained quite apparent there, and not likely to fade
anytime soon.  She was dressed with impeccable taste, and she had the look
of a worldly, educated, and urbane woman, not likely to be easily fooled.
Either that, or somebody'd been importing women from Rodeo Drive.
    "And I am Ariel, then."  The pleasantries dispensed, Ariel made her
move.  "So, I understand that your employer is a collector of antiquities,
and he'd like something that my client can arrange to be made available."
    ((Quick, to the point, and no-nonsense.  This is going to be fun,))
Nanami decided, getting into the spirit of things.  "Yes, though it's not
quite a case of loot and scoot."
    Ariel's brow shot up at that.  "Rather to the point, are you not?"
    "No more than you," Nanami countered.  "But I'll be plain.  Mr.
Goodskies needs pictures of whatever's going inside the internal section of
Saint Mark's Cathedral.  We believe that it's a breeding ground for
some...rather unsavory elements, and that it would be in the best public
interest to remove said elements."
    "So Calyx Goodskies is an exterminator of sorts," Ariel said, hinting at
something that Nanami was unsure of.
    ((Look, I just work for the crossdresser.  I don't ask what she does in
her off time.))  "You could say that," Nanami answered, treading on
unfamiliar ground.  ((And when she's not playing World Savior in Drag, she's
causing mischief on a global scale and making a nuisance of herself!)) she
silently added, though she kept that little nugget of truth to herself.
"However, he would like to make sure that no innocents get caught in the
crossfire, so to speak.  So, he would like to know if your client has a
penchant for taking pictures in religious monuments?"
    "My client isn't exactly a photographer, Natasha.  There are others who
have that sort of skill."
    ((How the hell do I answer this?)) Nanami asked herself.  ((Dammit, I
hate not knowing what to do here!  You think Utena woulda given me some sort
of crash course on this stuff, instead of...whatever it is she does in her
spare time.  Hell, if they had some sort of _Espionage for Dummies_, I would
have read that, too!))  For a second, she almost wished she had her old high
school "friends" here--they were better at this sort of stuff than she was.
((Riiiight, sure, Nanami.))
    Fortunately, Ariel misinterpreted--more likely, chose to
interpret--Nanami's silence as an answer of its own.  "I'm assuming that Mr.
Goodskies knows that trinkets are too noisy."
    Nanami had *no* idea what that was supposed to mean, but she continued
bluffing.  "I would assume so.  In situations such as this, a delicate touch
is preferred, you agree?"
    "Of course," Ariel replied, with a mere ghost of an amused smile forming
on her lips before it disappeared.  "Now, as to whether or not my client
decides to take a few photos for your employer depends on whether he has
enough money for the session," Ariel replied.  "Mr. Knight is no ordinary
tourist, you realize, and getting high-quality photography equipment can be
such an expense nowadays."
    "Agreed.  How much for the photo session?"
    "Well, because he would sympathize with what you're doing, I would say
the going rate is 5, with about half up front, set up to our photo studio in
the Caymans.  Once the session is done and the rolls are given to you, we'd
expect the other half to be placed into our Swiss affiliate."  The tone in
Ariel's voice clearly indicated that she expected that Nanami knew all of
this already.
    ((Which of course, I don't.  Well, she did say to spend whatever they
wanted...)) Nanami mused as she pondered Ariel's words.  ((It's not like
it's coming out of *my* pocket.  But I wonder where Utena's gonna get the
money to pay for all of this?  She probably owns a chain of unisex clothing
stores or whatever.))  "Done," she remarked.  Rising from her chair, she
commented, "I shall contact you in a couple of days when you've accomplished
your photo shoot.  Of course, you can begin when we get the funding to you."
Picking up the check, Nanami said, "Until then, taa."
    "We'll be expecting your call," Ariel replied, but Nanami didn't hear
her, as she was already planning to dedicate some time to shopping.  This
was Italy after all, and if the crossdresser was funding the whole escapade,
far be it from Nanami to skimp on expenses.
    ((Maybe I should even give Utena a present for all of this,)) the blonde
thought, then decided to do so; it was the least she could do for Utena, who
was kinda sorta maybe a friend...with the emphasis on the "kinda sorta
maybe" part.  ((I wonder if there are any stores around here that sell
dresses for annoying women with Messiah complexes?))


    A minute or two after she left, Oriel supposedly said to herself, "What
a silly little girl.  I wonder how many James Bond movies she had to watch
just to make that much of a fool out of herself."
    At the table behind her, a young man replied in a husky voice, "Likely
all of them."  The young man moved to Oriel's table, and smiled at the older
woman as he held a cup of tea in hand.  "I'd say that she was just another
clueless courier.  No way would any trained professional act like that."
The gentleman paused for a second before arching an eyebrow and commenting,
"'Trinkets are noisy?'"
    Oriel graced the young man with a grin.  "Anthy, dear, you really have
to get over this _Saint_ disguise bit.  You're a gatherer, not a cloak."
    The man frowned as though chastened.  "Call it an attempt to try and
improve my skills?"
    "It's a credible enough disguise to those who don't, enough to fool most
people; frankly, I have no idea why you couldn't just sit there as Rose.
Anyways, as I was saying, that girl obviously had no clue what I was talking
about.  At the very least, we know that she's not sponsored.  That term is a
military one, not corporate; our Miss Kirin nodded along like she knew what
I was talking about.  You're probably right about her being just a courier
who thinks she's too smart for her own good.  What else did you notice about
her?"
    Anthy squirmed as she removed the coat and jacket that went with the
suit she wore.  "I didn't get too good a look at her face, but the voice
sounded familiar to me."
    "It did?  Interesting.  Anyone you know?"
    Anthy paused.  How much should she tell Oriel?  The voice sounded like
someone she knew in high school, though she couldn't place the face to the
voice at the moment.  ((What the hell--what are the chances of that being
someone from Ohtori?))  "She sounds like someone I knew in high school."
    "When you were a teenager?"
    "When I was in high school," Anthy repeated, a grin on her face.  But
before Oriel could inquire further, the thief added, "She also reminds me of
someone else I've run across--one of Ganya Petrovich's people."
    "Petrovich?  The Russian Defense Minister?"  When Anthy confirmed it,
Oriel had a look of triumph on her face.  "We suspected he was up to no
good, but this is proof in the rock!  Why didn't you tell me about this?"
Even as Oriel asked the question, she knew it was rhetorical.  Anthy would
never break client confidentiality to Oriel while she'd been in a position
to do anything about it; even now, though it seemed to be a breech, it was
more for the sake of this job rather than a forfeiture of trust, and Anthy
knew Oriel would keep quiet on it.
    "He's just a corrupt official who wanted me to steal art, not government
documents; didn't think it was worth bothering you.  Anyway, I don't plan on
doing further assignments for him--he still owes me for a job I did a couple
of years back," Anthy commented matter-of-factly.
    "So what does that have to do with this woman?"
    "He had a woman that worked for him by the name of Melody Sheridan.
Probably not her real name, but that's what she was introduced as.  Anyway,
supposedly, she was one of his couriers, as well as a couple of other
things--he hinted that she knew security and enforcement.  Anyways, after I
talked to her for a couple, I found out that she was nothing more than an
attractive woman with no brains.  What did this Natasha Kirin look like?"
    "Long black hair that was probably a wig, sienna-colored contacts, and
eyeglasses that were purely for show--too thin to be of real use, and I
could see the contacts were there, anyway," Oriel answered.  "Definitely not
who she makes us think she is.  Personally, I'd like to know exactly who she
is."
    "Doesn't sound like the same person.  But don't worry, we'll find out
who she is soon enough, Oriel."
    "You have some sort of backup plan that I don't know about, Anthy?"
    Anthy smiled, her eyes twinkling.  "Of course I do, Oriel.  How else do
you think I perform the magic of my trade?"
    Oriel was puzzled for a split second then groaned as realization set in.
"Oh no, you don't mean...."   Anthy merely gave her a coy look and a smile.


    "Damn kids!" Nanami snarled as she gave up the chase on those two
pickpockets.  They'd nailed her the minute she'd left the tiny café, and
she'd chased them down a few streets, but the kids made expert weaving
through the tourist-filled streets their means of escape.  They were well
into some of the sunken buildings, and it would take a miracle now for
Nanami to catch up to them, which wasn't likely to happen.  Scratch one
purse.
    ((Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn....))  The loss of the money that she was
carrying on her wasn't that much of a deal; she had more euros back at the
hotel.  The loss was actually that of the IDs that she'd been carrying.  She
was going to have to call Utena and see if she could have another set of
fake IDs sent her way.  And Nanami was sure Utena was going to have a field
day making fun of her over that fact, too.  *"GODDAMN IT!"* she screamed
into the air, turning and heading back to her hotel.  "Fuck this shit," she
snarled under her breath.  "You're really gonna owe me for this, Utena.  I
really hope it's worth it."
    At least there would be something good of this: Nanami needed to pass on
the info to Utena anyway, and it was worth a couple of chuckles talking to
her--she always sounded like some bad movie script on legs.  ((Whatever's
going on in that weirdo's mind, I at least hope someday she's going to learn
to talk like a regular person....))

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

    In all her life, there were plenty of degrees of weird, as far as Shiko
was concerned.  Some of them were light amounts of weird, like sneezing when
you were sure someone was talking about you, or people with sore right
shoulders complaining about being haunted.  Then there were the medium
amounts of weird like when that guy Yoshiru asked her out last month--that
guy was creepier than hell.  Then there was really heavy amounts of weird,
like that unexplained burst of light that occurred over Fujiyama last month,
which experts chalked up as being a freak aurora effect, like the Northern
or Southern lights.
    Based on what was happening now, she was about to add a new level of
weirdness in her catalog, one that was to be labeled Utena-level weird.
Utena-level weird started out as Utena leaping in to attack her enemy.

With a lightsaber.

    There was no rational, normal, or even realistic way to describe it.
Utena flicked her wrist, and there was the sudden sharp sound that seemed to
be a cross between an acetylene torch igniting and an electrical panel
exploding.  In her right hand was a small metal shaft, unadorned but
stylish, like one of those expensive laser flashlights.  Shiko could tell
that was the case, because the whole scene became illuminated by a crimson
light coming from the "flashlight". At first she thought that it *was* a
flashlight, but lasers do not act in the manner that Utena's did.  Nor did
they chop through others' metal blades as she moved around in a dancing
fury, hacking and slashing with a precise, deadly manner that was almost
elegant.
    "Get out of here!" Utena shouted to Shiko, ducking at the last second
under a well-timed blow from an opponent.  Unfortunately, she ducked too
late, and while he didn't hit his target, he managed to bring his blade
through her hair, slashing most of it off and creating an airburst of pink
as Utena's hair sprayed in every direction.  As a reward for her new hairdo,
Utena turned speedily and with her freehand, punched him below the belt,
then kicked him away with a sharp thrust to the stomach.  Having no time to
deal with the shock of her new hairstyle, she cut down a few more of her
opponents, either through disarming them or putting them unconscious.
    "Utena--"
    *"GO!"* Utena roared as she slammed one more into a wall then bolted out
the door and down into the hall, where the sounds of automatic gunfire could
be heard.  Obviously there had been more than Utena initially had thought,
and far be it from someone to forget the party favors.
    Time kicked back into fast-forward for Shiko and she scrambled to her
parents side, fear and shock evident on her face as she tried to roust them
back to consciousness.  Whatever was going on, someone was playing for
keeps, and they were willing to kill innocents for it.  They were certainly
destroying the ryokan, which had stood for the better part of forever; and
somewhere in the middle of the thugs with pigstickers and boomsticks was She
Who Thought She Was Utena Skywalker.  Everything was going to hell in a hand
basket attached to a rocket sled, and no matter what, Shiko's life was
never, ever going to be the same again.
    ((Cool.))
    At least, that's what she thought until she smelled something funny....


    Racing out the door, Utena kept her mind off what was left of her hair.
Now was not the time to mourn the loss of it.  Granted, while she'd been
thinking of a slight trim as of late, it would have been better if a
professional had done it.  And the mess her hair was going to be when she
got to a decent stylist...she just didn't want to think of that.
    What she did think of, instead as she cleared the door was two things:
either she could leap down the stairs that were at her feet, or she was
going to stop several bullets from the gun the guy was brandishing.  Since
she hadn't quite learned how to do the latter successfully, she opted for
the former, diving forward just as the person in question opened fire.  She
could feel the streams the metal slugs left through the air above her, and
as she hit the ground, the first thing she did was re-ignite her saber and
fling it like a boomerang.  The energy blade arced like a scythe, slashing
through everything in its path, up to and including a few of the bad guys,
before it came to a stop on the floor.
    Footsteps pounded from down the hallway; Utena waved her hand in the
direction of her blade, and it came back to her.  As a pair of thugs came
into the room, they opened fire on her, hoping to cut her down, but she
managed to race behind the safety of the wall in time.  Unfortunately, a
third person turned the corner, hefting a rocket launcher, and without
further ado, launched a few rounds in her direction.  Regardless of whether
or not she dodged them, they were going to explode, so she did the only
sensible thing: she dived out a nearby window, straight into one of the
mineral springs.
    As she hit the water, there was the sound of something short-circuiting;
Utena swore.  ((Great.  Now I'm gonna have to figure my way out of this one.
Some hero I am.))  Some mental alarm in her mind went off and she leapt out
of the spring, dashing for the nearest doorway. Shortly after reaching it,
her aggressors found where she'd been a second ago and began raining metal
down on the location in a futile attempt to hit what wasn't there.
    Down at the other end of the hall, she could see smoke, and smell the
stench of burning wood.  Apparently, they'd already begun to "cleanse" the
area, and that meant trouble.  Sure enough, as though on cue, tortured
screams began to sound throughout the building, and people began to run out
of their rooms.  This was an obstacle course she didn't need.  Shouting for
everyone to get out of the building, she turned and raced up the stairs,
right into the fire.  As gouts of flame began to consume the decks above,
she realized that one of the rooms destroyed was Shiko's, and there was no
way to make sure if she was safe or not.  ((I shouldn't have come here,))
Utena thought, turning her eyes from the flames, ((but Shiko's someone I
need on my side right now.))  She didn't think to add the possibility that
Shiko might be--


    Without warning, Utena dived for the nearest shelter, a room in front of
her; a split-second later, a torrent of bullets tore down the hallway,
intended to hit her.  Sensing for her foe's presence, she reached out with
her mind and found they weren't walking down the hallway, having thought she
went downstairs.  ((Thank the kami for precog skills.  Saved my butt once
again.))  Finally, she got back to her feet and took a quick look at her new
surroundings.
    Unlike many of the other rooms, this one was set up for regular living
vice a temporary stay; this had to be her parents' room.  Looking around for
something to defend herself with, she could smell the smoke coming into the
room, feel the heat that was coming from the ceiling above.  She didn't have
much time.
    Fortunately, against one of the walls, on a rack, was what appeared to
be an aged Pacific War soldier's saber, in fairly good condition.  More than
likely it was a family heirloom that hadn't seen service as a tool of war in
generations, but it was all that was
available.  Hoping that it wasn't merely a showpiece, Utena grabbed it,
buckled the scabbard on the other side of her, and bolted back out of the
room just as the ceiling began to be engulfed in flames.  She bolted out of
the room as the ceiling began to groan; by then the entire stairway she was
in was engulfed in flames, as though she were standing in a lava tube.  Down
at the bottom, the selfsame woman who Utena had seen earlier was assaulting
a couple not lucky enough to have left the building yet.  Without
hesitation, Utena leapt in for the attack, shouting, *"PICK ON SOMEONE WHO
CAN FIGHT BACK!"*  Utena stabbed the blade home with enough fury to force
the faux-Duelist to change her quarry.
    "I see you've decided to play fairly," the woman replied as she went
into a ready position.  "Too bad.  Now you get to die."
    Utena didn't bother answering, instead clearing her mind of all anger;
she found out long ago that it never really helped her.  Bringing her blade
into a ready position of its own, the pair began to circle each other,
readied for conflict.


    As the walls began to catch fire around them they continued, sensing the
other's moves, probing for weaknesses, observing the other's strengths.
They continued this for a minute or two then stopped, long enough to look at
each other in the eyes, expressions of contempt in the swordswoman's face; a
placid calm on Utena's.  The whole room seemed to tense; neither soul
breathed, nor mouths utter a sound.
    That silence ended as the two charged towards each other, determined to
end the conflict as quick as possible.  The woman made the initial attack,
going into an assault of high-speed slashes.  However, Utena swiftly danced
around them, easily maneuvering between each thrust of the blade.  To
counter, she dived on the floor, rolled free of the area, then commenced a
series of strikes of her own, the blade a blur of silver as her hands danced
only slightly slower than had she been using her lightsaber.  Unprepared for
this, the woman leapt to the side, however, and threw a wide slash, forcing
Utena to back up.  Utena leapt back and raced back in, meeting the woman
halfway in a clash of metal that resounded despite the crackle of the
flames.  They continued to hammer and lock blades a couple more times before
the fire got two intense and the pair raced down the stairs to the next
floor, striking at each other as they ran.
    As she dashed, Utena took a second to chance wiping the sweat from her
eyes.  ((She's good.  Additionally, it's been a while since I used an actual
metal blade, and it's slowing me down some.  That wouldn't be a problem, but
the smoke's telling me the fire's spreading faster than I expected, and it's
gonna burn down this place soon.  I don't even know if Shiko made it or
not.))  Utena had to come up with some sort of plan for dealing with this
fighter, and fast.  She couldn't afford to lose, nor could she afford to
lose Shiko.  Her mind calculated as she went through a few more probing
strikes as the pair silently agreed to take it down one more pair of steps,
ending up in the ryokan's lobby.
    Turning into the lobby proper and ducking under the woman's
suckerpunch-like slash, she flipped overhead, landed on a table, then
bounded off towards her foe, sword down low, ready to whatever it took to
end it.  The pair clashed again in the center of the room, Utena putting her
strength behind a power strike while the woman slashed, aiming for the
rosehair's neck.  Around them, the flames began to appear, and the building
groaned its death knell; the shell wouldn't hold long.
    Utena leapt to her right seconds before a burning beam slammed into the
space where she'd been; the woman chose that second to attack, and only
Utena's rapid reflexes saved her from a problematic fate.  However, this
brought the woman well into Utena's range, and she counterattacked, lashing
out with a kick, nailing her opponent in the head, then spun rapidly
twisting her body and scoring a vicious slash across the woman's face,
drawing a deep well of blood.


    Both opponents stopped and stared at each other for the longest time
with glances that were alternately filled with respect and vicious intent, a
gulf of intent, each aware of the talent imbued in the other.
    The woman scoffed, ignoring the screaming pain that was caused by the
slash across her face.  "Without that toy of yours, you're fair.  Very good,
but not good enough."
    Utena bowed her head ever so slightly.  "It doesn't have to end this
way.  Please don't force me to kill you."
    The woman gave Utena a genuine smile as the room became completely
engulfed in flames.  "I promise to carve that on your gravestone."
    The pair relaxed, bowed once more, then charged at each other, raging
towards a final strike that would determine all.  For a second it seemed as
though the two embodied colors in the spectrum against a blackened room,
being filled with smoke; the hue of the woman a lime green against Utena's
rosy pink. The two came closer until the finally clashed in a collision that
blew out the windows of the lobby, sending them flying into the wind like
fragile rose petals, signaling a death on hand....


    From across the burning bridge, Shiko watched as her home, her life
burnt to the ground.  There was nothing left for her and her family, save to
watch the glowing embers in the dark of night, with the bare illumination of
emergency vehicles.  There was no silence around; the throng of sirens,
klaxons, and such ensured that.  People from nearby locales were now
beginning to bunch around the bridge, watching the building go up in flames,
and with it the livelihood of the Kageyama family.
    One of the watchers herself, Shiko was of two minds: while she might
have considered this whole thing a plus, it was going to affect her family.
They didn't have enough money to rebuild, and her parents were so absolute
about the whole ryokan, they gave their all for it--even now, as they stood
there, gently refusing the paramedics' request that they be seen at the
local hospital, watching the old place burn to its foundation.
    There was a grand shudder, and finally the grand place crashed in on
itself, falling victim to the weight of its own torched and scorched husk.
As the timbers fell towards the ground, some of the beams were still in full
flame, shining like lances of light in their fall.
    It suddenly dawned on her.  Tenjo?  She had no way to know if Utena had
made it out of the building alive before it collapsed, and based on the
so-far futile efforts by rescue teams to find any further survivors, the
chances of that were slim, as well.  Thinking about Utena, Shiko's question
quotient went up by leaps and bounds, and there was no real way to get those
answers easily.  Not now, and maybe not ever.
    Across the bridge, the flames continued to go, signaling the end of a
classic era in the sleepy mountainside town of Hakkone.

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

Ohtori, Kyushu, Japan
August 24, 200X

    Saionji sat at his desk at Ohtori, in the office that was known to
outsiders as that of Dean of Men's Affairs.  The person in charge of keeping
the discipline of the male students at Ohtori, it provided a nice cover role
of him.  And who knew that the dashing young dean was something else
entirely?  Certainly none of the parents who sent their children off to one
of Japan's most elite academies, nor those children, who would meet up with
one of two fates.  But that was the way the pendulum swung, the scythe that
cut a swath through time itself.
    "So, have you done it?" a voice at the door asked.  Saionji looked up
and saw his counterpart, the Dean of Women's Affairs, standing in the
doorway, as impeccably dressed as he.
    Under some circumstances, he would have stood up, straightened out his
shirt and tie, and with an affable manner, invited her in for some coffee,
breezy chitchat, and their daily meeting of the situation.  However, his
secretary was not present, so there was no need to issue such surface
intentions.  So he merely gave her a disinterested look and said, "Why
should I bother to answer that?  You already know that answer.  You are,
after all, the Rose Bride.  You know all."
    The young woman sat down and said, "Yes, and don't you forget that.  I
do know all."
    Saionji ignored that comment.  "You are definitely not the same slip of
a girl I knew when we were students here."
    "Of course not.  You had no idea of what I truly was any more than I
did.  Yet you treated me as though I was nothing to you, just a pawn."
    "If I had known then--" he began.
    "--If I had remembered what I was at that time, things would have been
different," she snarled, interrupting him, anger and hatred shining in her
eyes.  "As it stands now, I am the Bride, and I rule all."
    "The Council doesn't agree with you," Saionji countered.  "We will
handle the issue of Final Revolution together...unless you would rather end
up like our dearly deceased previous headmaster."
    Her tone was filled with contempt.  "Akio was a fool, splitting himself
up into two aspects.  He and Himemiya couldn't handle the power that they
had, so they lost control of it and in the end chose to short circuit
themselves, destroying most of their past and cutting Akio in two."  Her
smile was that of a razor's gleam.  "And look where it got them.  Akio's
dead, and Himemiya's a wastrel."
    "That also, as you said, blocked out your power as well, not to mention
your memory," the man noted with some amusement.
    The woman, however, was not amused.  "Only a temporary setback.  Now, my
mind has come back over the course of these years, and Akio is dead, killed
by his own power.  In seeking to restore it, all he did was create a way to
be engulfed by it."
    "And what of Himemiya?  Surely, if yours has returned, so will Anthy's."
    "It's irrelevant if her mind returns or not.  All she is now is a
worthless two-bit thief--she's 'happy and free,' and that's all she ever
cared about," the woman answered, vitriol evident in her voice.  She walked
over to Saionji's desk and sat down delicately in the plush chair facing him
before continuing.  "Eventually, Himemiya can be slaughtered like the rest
of the lambs, especially since you just killed her protector and lover."
The woman licked her lips in malicious glee.  "I would
have...enjoyed...dealing with Tenjo Utena myself, but sadly, I did not have
the time."
    "Yes, it's a grand shame you were too busy sleeping with your toy, Van
Dressen."
    "You have your pawns, I have mine.  I simply have a better class of pawn
than your gutter trash, Saionji."
    Saionji's eyes tightened in anger, but he held in check his next retort.
"I've got better things to do than to waste my time trading pointless
arguments.  Do you have anything else to pass on besides standing there and
taking up space?"
    "Yes I do.  I would caution you to watch your back."
    "Why bother?  Is it because our enemies are actually bothering to put up
a feeble front?"
    "No, it's because they're smarter than you realize, and it's a shame you
don't realize that."
    Saionji rushed to his feet, his temper bursting at the seams.  "Be
careful with what you say.  You may be the Rose Bride, but you're still just
a woman."
    Daintily rising from her seat, she jibed, "Yes, I am.  It's too bad
you're not man enough to see beyond the façade.  Good day, Saionji.
Hopefully you'll realize your mistake before I have to kill you."  Her dark,
soft laughter ringed the office as she walked out towards her own office.

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

    Morning came, and with it, the aftermath.  Most of the ryokan had fallen
into the nearby river, or collapsed upon itself.  The flames had grown
powerful enough to slag several of the cars that had been in the parking lot
and even burnt away both a sizable portion of the nearby forest and the
wooden bridge connecting the ryokan to the other side of the river, where
the street was.  Several businesses nearby, including other inns, were
helping out with the crisis, doing what they could to blunt the catastrophe.
    So far the way things were shaping, the only loss that would be
permanent would be the Kageyama ryokan.  Though the insurance would ensure
that the family would survive financially, psychologically would be a
different story.  Shiko's parents' livelihood, house, hearth and home was
now gone, and Shiko knew her parents weren't the retiring type.  To be
honest, they'd still be here if it weren't for the fact that she begged them
to go to the hospital and get their possible concussions checked out.  In
turn, she'd stay here and watch the place.
    Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Truth be told, now she
was sort of missing the place.  She didn't want to be trapped in the place
for life, but when push came to shove, that was home that had just gotten
turned into bonfire on overkill.  While it would be easier for her to walk
away from all of that, and likely for her brother as well, it would
definitely be something that her parents would be unable to.  The loss of it
could potentially end them, and that was truly a discomforting thought.
    So was the next one: mainly, what happened to Tenjo?  Shiko evaluated
that for a minute or two before deciding that Utena had to be okay.  It
wasn't something that she could necessarily prove, but somehow she knew it
to be true.  After all, random factors tended to pop up often, and when it
came to random factors, Tenjo Utena had to be on the top of that list.


    "Shiko?"
    The emeraldhair turned instantly at the sound of that voice, deliriously
happy for some unknown reason.  "Utena!  You survived!"  Considering how she
looked at the moment, it appeared to be in the genuine miracle department.
Utena's hair had been rather messily chopped off during the attack, and
there were numerous slashes, burns, and cuts through her clothing.  One of
her arms bore a rather nasty abrasion, though most of it had been bandaged
up.  At Utena's side were her lightsaber-thingy and Shiko's grandfather's
WWII infantry saber.  Ironically, the metal sword seemed as though it had
seen more use than the other weapon, but only because there were odd
scorchmarks on the lightsaber handle, as though it had shorted out somehow.
    Detaching the sword from her belt, Utena handed the older blade to
Shiko.  "I was able to save this before I escaped.  I...thought your family
thought it was an important enough heirloom."
    Shiko bowed in gratitude.  "My father will be glad to know that it's
safe.  Words fail me, Utena.  I can't thank you enough."
    "It was the least I could do," the rosehair woman sighed.  "After all,
if they hadn't followed me here, you home would still be standing."
    Shiko did a double take, nearly dropping the scabbard.  "They came after
me because you came to visit me?"
    Utena had the good grace to look completely ashamed.  "Um, yes.  I just
wanted to draw them out, Shiko.  I didn't mean for this to happen,
really--after I met you at your place, I thought I was going to run into
them on the slopes of Fuji, not here.  I don't know how I can totally
express how so, so, sorry I am about all this.  I managed to save you guys,
but you lost your home in the process."
   Shiko's response was a flat, unemotional stare, which didn't make Utena
too comfortable.
   "Shiko?"
   The flat stare broke into a toothy, goofy grin.  "Thank-you, thank-you,
thank-you!  I thought I was going to be trapped in that place forever!  I'd
rather do anything else with my life!"  Her response was so unexpected that
for a second or two, Utena was wondering if she was still on Earth.
    "Um, you...okay, Shiko?"
    "Fabulous!"
    "Um...yeah.  So, you didn't care much for the ryokan life, huh?"  That
was a hopeful sign, surely....
    "Absolutely hated it!  I'd rather do anything than that!"
    "Anything, huh?" Utena asked, thinking it too good to be true.
    "Er, almost anything," Shiko clarified, the mental alarm finally
beginning to sound.  "What have you got in mind?  I'm tellin' you right now,
I'm not doing anything weird."  A pause.  "Okay, nothing *too* weird...."
    "Well," Utena said, pausing for a second to choose her words, "Let's
talk about it for a second or two.  Maybe you just might want to get
involved with what I'm talking about."

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

    Sitting in her room, Anthy pored over her equipment in preparation for
her next mission.  Miri and Oriel's granddaughter had gone out to dinner
with the older woman, giving Anthy the peace and quiet that she would need
to prep for the situation.  Additionally, it would add to the alibi that
they were out, since the hotel staff didn't do that good of a job paying
attention to who went in and out; it would be a mere trifle for Oriel to
forge Anthy's signature at in the concierge's key logbook.
    Slow and methodical and almost with a ritualistic grace, the young woman
inspected each and every piece of gear she would carry, checked the dark
clothing she would wear.  Usually this was accompanied by a Zen-like focus,
a part of the old Rose Bride within her concentrating on each piece, just as
much when she pulled her own Sword of Roses out of her breast, or when the
Sword of Dios came from it when bidden by another.
    Tonight, though, something was at the back of her mind.  And that thing
was the name Natasha Kirin.  The very face and name were enigmas that seemed
to come far too close to home.  How was that woman a link to Calyx
Goodskies?  And was the aforementioned "Mr. Goodskies" in truth, Utena?  The
whole thought was like a yin-yang, cycling amongst itself, unable to
dissipate, but instead building like a charged particle racing in a torus,
building up more force.  And it seemed that the force of that question would
tear Anthy apart.


    "I need a break, or I'm never going to get anything done."  Unable to
concentrate any further, she settled back down at the table, deciding to
focus her attention on a half-eaten baguette sandwich and a cup of lukewarm
coffee.  In all of her years in her profession, she'd never had this much
trouble, and she was sure that the months in retirement had not dulled her
edge *this* badly.
    ((I'm getting way too worked up about Goodskies.  If I don't
concentrate, I'm going to make some stupid mistake, and I'm going to get
myself killed.))  Forcing some semblance of concentration to her mind, she
ate her sandwich, studious bite after studious bite, watching the world and
the waning sun drop over the horizon.  There would be a few hours for her to
get some sleep before her operation began, and she still had to complete her
inspection of her gear, not to men--
    The tear rolled down Anthy's dark cheek, unbidden.  A slim finger
flicked to her eye, wiping it away in an instant, but a question came up:
why did it come?  She sighed.  Maybe it was her unconscious continuing to
deal with the Utena issue, even as she tried to think of other things.
Maybe it was a sign that when this was all over, she should continue her
search for Utena once more.  She held the tear in her finger, looking at it
as though it was a precious jewel.  And in a way it was: it was a sign that
after all these years, her feelings for Utena had not changed, and probably
never would.
    Anthy Himemiya leaned on the window of the hotel, her head sticking out
as she continued to watch the sun on its lazy travel towards the western
lands and the end of a day...and maybe even to shine on Utena, wherever she
might be.
    In the distance, a piano played the classic piece "The Sunlit Garden,"
too faint for Anthy to be consciously paying attention, but loud enough to
remind her subconscious mind of a different, bittersweet time so long ago.


    In the bar at the hotel around the block from Anthy's window, Nanami
watched the piano player, a rather attractive local, gracefully segue from
"The Sunlit Garden" into some tune by a composer named Gershwin.  It was
pretty much all that she could do at the moment.  With her ID stolen, she
couldn't cash any of the traveler's cheques that she had with her.  It would
probably take Utena a day or two to get a new set of credentials out to her;
hopefully the crossdresser would remember to have entry stamps faked.
((Maybe she'll remember to do that between slaying dragons or whatever
else's on her schedule for the week.))
    Likewise, watching movies on the (overly expensive) pay-per-view system
was a waste.  Granted, it's not like Nanami was paying for all of this, but
there was only so many times that she could watch that new James Bond
film--whoever decided Leo DiCapricio would be a great James Bond had to have
his head examined.  It would have been nice to have Sean Connery as Bond
again, but since he'd died last year, and no one was willing to create a
virtual actor CG for the movie, they were stuck with Leo.  The only other
movies in English were on the porno channel, and there was *no* way she was
watching those.  Furthermore, she seemed to end up in probably the only
hotel in the country that didn't have access to a Japanese broadcast
service.  And in a final stroke of bad luck, the local ISP Union had called
a weeklong strike, so no World-Wide-Web for Na-na-mi.
    So, here she was, sitting in the hotel bar, sullenly drinking her lime
and water, and waving away the much-too-cheerful-for-her-own-good table maid
who kept cheerfully trying to get Nanami to order just about every alcoholic
drink on the menu.  This was irony among ironies: here she was in a bar, and
all she was drinking was H2O with a dash of citrus.  While she did promise
Utena that she'd stay away from the booze while she was running the errand,
it was grating on her nerves.  Yes, it was probably good for Nanami, but did
Utena have to make her promise it?
    ((God, I could really use a drink right now,)) Nanami found herself
thinking.  Of course she did.  She needed to crawl back into the bottle.  It
was the only thing that really meant safety to her and that was nothing that
anyone could take away from her, not even Tenjo Utena.  Not even if Utena
tried really, really hard.  No one could stop her from that, maybe not even
herself.

    And maybe that was the point.

    ((Maybe that's why Utena stepped in,)) Nanami wondered.  ((I don't
believe for a damn minute that she's being entirely altruistic, but what if
she's mainly doing it just to help me?  What if that's the reason for all of
this?))  The blonde heard the splash of water and the tinkle of ice
impacting against sides of the glass; she looked down to see her hands,
locked in a death grip around the glass of water, shaking like shiatsu
machine in full power.  Frightened by the lack of control she had over her
hands, she let go of the glass and it bounced against the flower vase once
before falling to the ground, where it surprisingly didn't shatter against
the tile.
    ((It didn't shatter,)) the woman thought dully.  Something in her saw
that glass as herself, and realized that if that had been the case, she
would have shattered long ago.  There was nothing left except for revenge
and sorrow; why not take that and call it a lifetime?  What else was there
to live for?

    ((Maybe friendship,)) an unknown part of her mind answered.  ((Maybe
destiny, if you're willing to believe.  Maybe someone doesn't want you to
shatter and become worthless.  Maybe someone still sees some value in you.
Maybe,)) that part of her mind dared, ((just maybe the cro--*Utena*--is
actually being altruistic, and you're not giving her a chance.))
    ((Why should I?)) Nanami screamed back.  ((My own brother doesn't give a
damn about me, why would anyone else, now that my Mits' is dead?))
    ((You'll just have to find that answer out for yourself, Nanami.
Unless, of course, you're too chicken.))  Those last words echoed a
challenge in the blonde's mind, daring her to search for a truth.

    As the barkeep raced over to clean the mess, Nanami stared at the puddle
of water on the table, as though she were scrying it.  As soon as the
barkeep cleaned up the mess, Nanami grabbed her attention and said, "A glass
of rum and Coke--"
    ((--You'll just have to find that answer out for yourself, Nanami--))
    "--and give it to the piano player, with my compliments.  Put it on my
room tab," she said, flashing her key.  The barkeep made the entry into her
PDA and went off to get the drink, while Nanami flashed the piano player a
quick, tired smile before deciding to head back to her room.  She could use
some sleep right now, and maybe after that, she'd begin searching for the
answers to questions that had now begun to become a bit more important.


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

Bangkok, Thailand
August 26, 200X

    The Rose Bride lay her head against Wil's bare chest.  Running a finger
against it, she cooed, "You were magnificent."
    Wil flashed her a smile.  "Of course I am.  Especially when I'm with
you.  After all, you are the Rose Bride, and it's the Rose Bride's duty to
meld perfectly with the one she is engaged to, correct?"
    "Of course."  The woman turned around and favored her fiancée with a
deep kiss for a couple of minutes before asking, "And how goes your plans?"
    "The Council doesn't suspect a thing.  I'm building up the Guerre as
fast as I can, and away from the Council's Black Rose contingent.  Hideo is
a capable subordinate, and is doing his best to keep tabs on some of the
Council's other decisions.  Rembrandt is following the events at some of the
other schools around the world, and of course, my dear, you're keeping house
at Ohtori, right under their noses."
    "Of course, my dearest," the Rose Bride responded, snuggling up against
his chest.  "But how goes your plans in this country?"
    "We've just started.  I have a group of Council forces in the jungles,
weeding out any possible signs of opposition from the rebels.  Meanwhile, I
have the Guerre taking charge of their own positions here.  By the time the
Council realizes they've been had, we'll own this nation."
    "That's wonderful, my love," the Rose Bride said, without the slightest
touch of irony or animosity in her voice.  Of course, had Wil known a bit
more about his companion, he would have steered clear of her.  After all,
black widows always had a certain nasty habit after mating...
    ((...and this black widow is going to rule the world,)) she thought, her
inward self darker and nastier than Wil could ever believe.  As long as she
had this fool convinced, she could use him to keep the Council at bay.  And
when the moment was right, she would raise the Black Rose Society back to
its proper place from the guise of the Guerre du Monde, and smash any
opposition.  She would become the Rose Goddess, and there would be nothing
that could stop her.


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

Tokyo, Honshu, Japan
August 26, 200X

    "This is your last chance to back out," Utena told her as she handed
Shiko her ticket.  "Once you step on the plane, your world changes for good.
And I can still get you travel arrangements back to Hakkone, you know."
    "What, are you trying to get rid of me?" Shiko asked.  "Look, Utena.
Strange as it seems, I owe you a lot.  You were the one who saved us from a
very nasty death--though they were there because of you.  My family's ryokan
is getting rebuilt because of the insurance settlement and some extra funds
that you provided--and I'm not going to even ask where you got the cash.
You even talked my parents into allowing me to go off and follow my destiny
and have my brother take his place in the business.  Basically, you gave me
freedom."
    Although Utena smiled, her words sounded sad: "Just like in the past,
and I wonder if I did any good back then either."
    "What was that?"
    "Oh, nothing."  Both women headed to a pair of seats near their gate;
the flight would not be boarding for at least a few hours.
    Shiki had noted a quick, almost undetectable mood swing had come over
Utena in that second's speech: she was almost sad, depressed as though
something vital had been lost in her life.  Trying to come up with something
to lighten the mood, she asked, "So, you live in America now, huh?"
    Utena seemed to come out of a dream.  "Huh?  Wha...oh, the destination.
Sorta.  We're actually going to a place owned by a friend of mine.  She
won't mind, really.  As for where I live, it's a bit more complex than that.
But she won't mind if we use her house for a few weeks.  She's in Europe,
taking care of some business, anyway, so...."  Utena smiled and gave her
companion a boyish shrug.  "You know, I'm still trying to think of a way to
thank you for fixing my hair after it got chopped off."  She felt the back
of it, unconsciously feeling for the mass of hair that was no longer there.
"It still feels...odd, but I'm learning to live with it."
    "It's okay.  Actually, Wakaba--remember her?--taught me how to do that."
Shiko looked at Utena and admitted the handiwork.  Though what was left of
Utena's hair was left as is, the back of it was now tapered down to the
nape, giving it a boyish look that actually was the rage amongst male stars
lately.  Somehow, given Utena's sometime-alpha male nature, it seemed to fit
her like a glove.  "Man, I wonder what she's up to nowadays?"
    "You know, now that you mention it, I really don't know," Utena
admitted.
    "Hmmm.  Thought you two were best friends?"
    "We were, but we lost contact when I left Ohtori.  She was a good
friend, but you know how life can be: sometimes you lose track of your
closest friends.  At least I can say I've never seen her name in all my
research on the Ohtori Academies."  Shiko nodded agreement with that, and
Utena continued.  "So, want to know a little more of what you're going to be
getting yourself into?"
    "Well, to be honest, um, yeah.  I mean, if you're really being on the up
and up with me and saying that I have the same skills as you do, I find that
rather odd.  And speaking of odd, maybe I was just spacing the other day,
but was that--"
    "--a lightsaber I was carrying the other day?" Utena asked.  Seeing the
puzzled look on Shiko's face, she answered, "To be honest, yes.  And I'll
have to explain about all that later, but I will tell you this: George Lucas
didn't create _Star Wars_, well, not in the conventional manner.  I'm sure
he's not aware of it, but he's not a visionary--he's a mystic."  Seeing that
the other woman was still just as confused, Utena waved it off.  "I'll give
a detailed explanation later.  Right now, just to let you know, that you're
about to enter a world that sometimes even I can't explain.  It's a world
that will boggle your mind--after ten years, I still have yet to find
something that doesn't surprise me."
    "Um, yeah," Shiko replied.  "So, what are we going to do?"
    "I'm going to teach you to use your innate skills.  I'm going to teach
you how to defend yourself, and others, when the need arises.  But most of
all, I'm going to teach you fear."
    "I think I've already mastered that," Shiko deadpanned, "but if you
teach me how to protect myself, then I don't have to be worried, do I?
After all, I get one of those shiny lightsabers, and I won't have to be
afraid of anything!"
    Looking at Shiko, Utena gave her a dark, flat stare, and it seemed for a
second that Utena's eyes showed an edge of fear in them.  Speaking to her
companion, the one-time Champion Duelist, faux-Prince and pseudo-Jedi said,
"Shiko, *I* carry a lightsaber.  And I'm *terrified* by what I see."


To be continued...

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

La Fillette Revolutionnaire Utena (Shoujo Kakumei Utena, Revolutionary Girl
Utena) characters are owned, trademarked, and etc. by Chiho Saito, Kodansha,
et al.  Star Wars elements owned, trademarked, etc. by George Lucas, Lucas,
Ltd., et al. Other intellectual properties belong to their respective
creators/owners.

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

Mata ne,
Rob
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