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

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

Thanks,
AngelKate

^_-



The Memory of the Rose

Chapter Two

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

-'Humankind', Wiesel



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

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

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

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

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

Satisfied that the shoe wouldn't fly off in the middle of a glissade, Sari
sat to the side and waited her cue.

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

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

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




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

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

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



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

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

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

The bows continued, with the audience chanting for an encore.  Sari had
never felt so tired and exhilarated at the same moment.  She knew she had
just been dancing, she could feel the burning in her arms and legs -
strangely enough, her left hand was throbbing with phantom pain as well-
and felt her entire body drenched in sweat, but for the life of her, she
couldn't remember anything past leaping into Anya's arms at the very
beginning of the piece.

Wow, she thought to herself, that must have been some performance.  They're
still standing up and clapping, and it's already been a full two minutes.
The cries of 'encore!' weren't fading either; if anything, they'd grown in
strength.

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

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

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

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



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

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

An apparently empty rose garden.

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

Even her head wasn't unaffected; she had a bitch of a headache, more akin
to a mild migraine than anything else.  But it was more than the physical
aches and pains; there was truly something off somewhere nearby. She
couldn't put her finger on what was wrong.  It wasn't really where she was,
not when it came down to it. Though very spooky, the garden was nice she
supposed, if you like gothic wrought iron and lattices.  As for the
foliage, nothing grew but blood-red and black roses. Even the grass itself
was dead and crackling under her feet.  The air was frigid; with enough
moisture it would soon snow, and Sari hoped that it wouldn't while she was
sitting here, trying to get rid of the feeling she'd forgotten something
dreadfully important.

As she sat there, wondering where in the hell she was, she noticed two
shadows dancing along a bare wall not far from the garden.  Sari rose to go
find out who could dance so well, only to find she couldn't step past the
opening to the rose garden.

"What the hell?" she hissed, pushing at the doorway with her hands.  The
air between the posts felt spongy, as if a good hard shove would send her
through, but for some reason fear held her back from doing that.  She
didn't know why she was here; perhaps the barrier was to protect her from
the strange dancing shadows.

As if her thoughts conjured them up, Sari looked up to find the shadows
moving towards her with a liquidly graceful glide impossible to achieve in
real life.  It was more the slow, sinuous glide of a large cat- a panther,
or a lion- than that of a human.  Sari didn't realize it, but she was
shaking with fear.  "Who are you?" Sari demanded, dropping to the ground
and trying to see who was making the shadows.  It was the middle of the
night, she suddenly realized, there was no way anyone could be making those
shadows.  It had to be a figment of her imagination.

"Do you know?" whispered a voice in her ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's good," she murmured in surprise; her fear had faded along with the
brief taste of the ice cream.  "You made it for me?"

"Of course," laughed the one with the braids.  She held out her hand and a
dress appeared in it, a scarlet affair with ruffles everywhere.  She held
it up against Sari, apparently measuring it against her form to see how it
would fit. "Is it good?"

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

An upside down castle.

Hanging from the top of the strange rose garden.

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

What in the hell was going on here?

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

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

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

"But..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

Sari nodded.  "I overdid it, didn't I?"

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head.  "Get well gift?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hmm?"

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

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

"Thanks," she muttered dryly.  What was wrong with him?  He'd tossed the
gift at her like she would bite his arm off.  Frustrated, she sat the gift
down in her lap, unopened.  "Adam, is something wrong?  Because if there is
something, tell me right now!  You're acting weird."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trust no one.

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

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

The moment was too short.

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

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

She wished.

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

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

"Well," harrumphed the doctor.  "I'm sure Miss Nurri and Sari here would
like to be alone while I examine her.  Can you two please leave
momentarily?  You may wait in the waiting room."

The woman and Adam nodded, slipping out of the room, leaving Sari, Yamika,
and the doctor for the examination.

The boy was silent as they walked down the hall, Anshi noted. He seemed
almost embarrassed of the hug they had walked in on.  Smiling a secret
smile to herself, Anshi kept her calm demeanor.  He was a good boy, and
obviously had no idea he was in love with a girl four years his junior.  So
good was he that she doubted he'd recognize the telltale signs of love for
several years yet.  She silently wished him luck.  It wasn't often that one
stumbled across such a good person.  Hopefully the world didn't screw him
over too badly.

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

Wasn't it?

There was no way Juri's necklace could have made it all the way to the
United States and found its way into the hands of Utena's child.  The mere
suggestion of it was ridiculous.

So why wasn't she laughing?



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded in return.  "Okay."

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

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

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

Her mother...

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

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

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

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

And how much she wanted her mommy.



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

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

Okay, plan B.

"Um, Ma'am?"

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

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

"Oh, is that all?"

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

Anshi glanced up again.  "Yes, Adam?"

"Your name?"

"What about it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surprisingly, Anshi smiled.  "Good."

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

"Uh...Anshi-san?"

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

Adam flushed.  Was he that easily read?

"Well...yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice was quiet.  "Thank you."

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

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

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



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

"Adam," she murmured, curling up on her side and wrapping her fingers
around the golden locket he'd given her.  "Thank you."

Her sleep was quiet, and as far as she knew, dreamless.