Welcome to Ohtori Academy! Ah, and such a fine old academy it is! The classes, the teachers, the students, all beautifully entwined to create naught but the finest of educational experiences! If you can afford the price tag, I'm sure you'll remember what you learn here for the rest of your life! Come in, come in, dear guest! Don't be shy! Here, I'll give you the grand tour....... you'd like that, wouldn't you? * * * ...... and THIS building in the East Wing is where we have the Ohtori Memorial Lecture Hall, which is said to be built over the very grave of the Academy's found- hey, where are you going? Oh, no you don't! Foolish boy. That forest is forbidden. No, of course there's nothing wrong with it, it's just.... proper students do not GO to the forest. It simply isn't done. Here, would you like to look at the Spire? It's the tallest building on campus, you know! They say there's even a fully-functional observatory on the top floor, where the Chairman keeps his office! No, of COURSE we can't go there either. The Spire is for the SPECIAL people, like the Student Council. You should be so lucky to aspire to such heights!!! But you know...... Maybe I can make an exception. The Spire is not for you. But under the Spire..... there is a place..... that you might find interesting. Would you like to see it? * * * Isn't it PRETTY? Look at all the swords! In the walls, in their glass cases, even hung from the ceiling. It's one of the finest collections in the world, the weapons in the Armory! The Chairmen of the Academy have spent many, many years accruing them. The finest blades from all across the land, and- Feh! You say they're nothing more than broken, rusted half-swords with tarnished hilts, do you? Shows what you know! These blades have real CHARACTER, they do! Wielded by many a prince, they have been, in defense of their realm! Or a realm. Something like that. The POINT is, don't mock the swords! Let me show you. You see this one? Here, hold it, don't be bashful! S'nice, isn't it? Now look at it. Go on, really look! Look at the light slide right around that tarnish! And isn't the blade nifty? If you scrape away the rust with your fingernail, you can look at it closer! Go on, look! Especially at the angles, where the shadows fall in such interesting red and black patterns..... Look close enough, and you can even see......... * * * (There was a man) Mikage Souji thrust forward, his blade fully extended. "I knew you would jump!" he crowed. (There was a woman) Tenjou Utena's eyes widened in fear. She was too far over, her weight too committed to her jump to pull back now, and Mikage would win- (And they Duelled in the sky) But then Himemiya rushed forward, calling out for her, and Mikage suddenly seemed to stop... Mikage could have won, then. The path before him lay open. But then he stumbled to a halt, and stood dumbly, staring at the photographs neatly arranged on the Arena's desks as if seeing them for the first time. *Sempai, you're going to lose now.* Mikage started. "Mamiya!" *You're going to get your Rose destroyed by her.* Utena reversed her blade, and the Bride touched its tip, oh-so-gently, sparks trailing from her hand. She thrust...... (But there was someone else) In an office somewhere, a phone rang. "Ah, Nemuro-kun. I was thinking it was about time you called me. "Yes, the boy called Mamiya, that you were keeping with you out of your lingering attachment to Tokiko, died long ago. (A Red Prince.... on his throne in the sky) The Sword of Dios cut once, precisely, and a black rose scattered into the breeze. "I exploited the illusion that you cherished in your memory so much, you even halted your own time. The period where you hid the possibility in your heart, not growing up, was useful to me." (In a steel hell, the blades waited) The Red Prince smiled. "However, that's all over. From here onward, the path before you is not prepared." (A great clattering arose from the gathered iron) "You may graduate now." Click. And things became not as they were, and as they are, and a page was torn from history and rewritten, and there was no Mikage Souji or Nemuro-sensei left, only (In the glass case, a new blade appeared, as broken and tarnished as the rest) "What's wrong? Are you sympathizing with him?" (And now he was holding it, and he felt as it tried to reach out and - * * * Stop looking now. It was just a sword. But I wonder.... will you still remember me when you wake up? ~o/ kashira kashira, gozonji kashiraaaaaaa!!!! ~o/ * * * "TATSUYA!!!!!!!!!" The riding crop slapped hard across the desk, just an inch from his nose. "GYAH!!! Iwasn'tsleeping!" lied Kazami Tatsuya as he jerked bolt upright. "Really!" Kimiko Hoshi glared at Tatsuya from behind her angled, severe sunglasses. "You know the drill, Kazami-kun. You, bucket, hall, now." Tatsuya sighed. This just wasn't his day. "Yes, Kimiko-sensei." >From the seat behind him, Wakaba giggled. "Dreaming of your princess, oh great Prince of Onions?" she whispered sotto voce at him. "Do you have something you'd like to share with the class, Shinohara-kun?" Wakaba did her own bolt upright sitting. "N-no ma'am!!" Her arm twitched, and she accidentally knocked her entire case of pencils off the desk. "Oh noooooooo!!!!!!" Tatsuya almost smiled as he shook the last cobwebs out of his head. Watching her scrabble blindly about the floor in a desperate attempt to gather them up before they rolled every which way was almost worth being sent to the hallway for. *You were ever my princess, Wakaba, even if you are rather silly.* He sighed almost contentedly, and hefted his watery burden. if we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended, that you have but slumber'd here while these visions did appear -Wm. Shakespeare. SISYPHUS. A Story of Revolution. Act 1 By Mercutio. A poster for the series may be found at http://www.thekeep.org/~harnums/Jaquemart/sisyphusb2.jpg * * * Once upon a time, there was a princess grieving over the deaths of her mother and father. Before this princess appeared a prince traveling upon a white horse. This is not their story. * * * Once upon a time, there was a young prince. He was good and kind, if a little confused, and was precious to a young princess. And they played together in the sunshine of their youth, and were happy, even if the whole of his kingdom could be inscribed within the circles of an ordinary onion. Even the smallest princes have their nobility. But one day, the prince left, and his princess, bereft of the precious memory, convinced herself that was she was naught but the most ordinary of girls, one face among many. So desperate was she to regain what had been lost that she latched her sights onto another prince, though this one was tall and hard and altogether undeserving of her. So great was her attachment to him that, when her young prince returned, now grown to manhood and seeking her out, she was blind to his devotions. And he despaired, weeping over her, yet always hoping in his heart that she would return to him. And he became less than he was as well, standing softly in the background, his true strength buried deep within him. He had lost his princess, and drifted loose, but for a time he would still stand. But was that really such a good idea? For who knows what might seek out a purposeless prince, and seek to fill that empty vessel? * * * >We abide alone and wait< [For one to pass the sacred gate!] ~The Red Prince claimed us all, we failed~ >To break the seals our swords assailed!< [Yet one comes now who might to aid!] ~Draw him hie and we'll be saved!~ >And then we four shall be as one< [Till the Revolution comes!] ~Till the Revolution comes!~ >Till the Revolution comes!< ~>[TILL THE REVOLUTION COMES!!!!!!!!!!!]<~ * * * Aren't they silly? WAKE UP! And stop slouching! * * * "Yes'm," Tatsuya mumbled, straightening up. "Tatsuya! You were sleeping again, neh? And leaning against the wall with a bucket of water too! Wow, I think I'm impressed" "Hrmh?" Tatsuya blinked, and turned to look at Wakaba, who was leaning over studying him in that exaggerated manner of hers. Behind her, various students filed out of the classroom, some of the girls glancing at him and giggling. He looked down. The bucket of water he'd been assigned to hold was still there, hanging from his fingers and swaying gently from the bottom of his limp arms. He hadn't spilled a single drop. He sighed. "Class is over, isn't it?" Wakaba nodded, bouncing slightly. "Mmm-hmm! Kimiko-sensei wants to see you in her office tomorrow, though!" There was a tiny, almost imperceptible smile on her face. "You live to take pleasure in my misfortune, don't you Wakaba?" Tatsuya said, setting his bucket down carefully and stretching. *Oooh, man, I'm gonna be stiff for awhile.* "Neh, neh, how can you say that about me?" Wakaba protested, the back of her hand against her forehead, suddenly all melodramatic. "I think I'm insulted! No, no, don't try to apologize, I'll never get over this, not in a million years.... oh, woe is I, to be so cruelly insulted by a friend?" Tatsuya laughed. He couldn't help himself. "Sorry, Wakaba. How about if I buy you lunch, instead?" "Yay!" All smiles and perkiness again, she grabbed his arm and began half dragging/half carrying him toward the lunchroom. "I'm gonna have some soup, an' a double order of octopus balls, and some salad, and some of that weird meat that I don't know what it is but it's REALLY tasty, and some lemonade, and maybe a cookie!" "Hey! Slow down!" And all was right with the world. * * * Blinking, Tatsuya stared at Wakaba's empty plate. "I can't believe you ate the whole thing. I barely got a bite in edgewise." Wakaba emitted a tiny, ladylike burp. "Mmm, food. And it serves you right, you big meanie." She stuck her tongue out at him. He smiled. "Hmm. Wakaba, I was wondering, that test in Foreign Literature is tomorrow... would you like to come and study wi-" "Wakaba-chan!" a group of girls yelled from across the dining hall, interrupting him. "Come watch with us! Saionji-sempai is having his first kendo match since he got back to school!" Wakaba looked up and blinked. "Oh?" One of the girls beckoned with her hand. "Come on--it's Saionji-sempai. He's so dreamy!" "Oh. Sure. I'd love to come." Wakaba stood up, slowly. "Bye, Tatsuya. See ya later--hey, wait up!" She scampered over to the group, and was soon lost in midst of the giggling, squealing crowd of girls headed for the kendo hall. "-with me." Tatsuya finished lamely. " 'Gee, Tatsuya, I'd love to! Seven o'clock good?' 'Sure, how about my place?' 'Neat!!' " He drained what was left in his cup, slammed it back to the table, and sat there for a long while, watching the clouds go by and the grass blow in the wind. Then the bell rang, and he went back to class. * * * "Figures. Can't stay awake in class, but as soon as it's TIME to go to bed, I'm all alert and restless." Tatsuya wandered about the darkened campus aimlessly, trying to tire himself. Ohtori was amazingly lax in regard to curfew rules; they existed, but were enforced only sporadically. Similarly, students (except for the Student Council or duly appointed representatives thereof) were prohibited from being on campus this late at night, but nobody actually ever bothered to stop any who might choose to come. In fact, certain secluded areas had become popular trysting places for lovers. _Other_ people. And _their_ lovers. Tatsuya stretched, and almost yawned. *Hunh. Damn biorhythms. Wish I could sleep when I'm supposed to be sleeping.* Frowning and muttering to himself, he decided to take another turn around the campus before heading back to his room to take another crack at bed. Which is why, when passing by the kendo hall, he chanced to overhear a pair of softly muted voices. "but you........ meaningless....... laughing in your...." "...... not true." Frowning, his curiosity piqued, *Who else is up at this hour?* Tatsuya backed up a couple of steps and gently laid his ear against the rice paper of the traditional sliding door. "Even if you're conceited with your cheap tricks," said a harsh, commanding voice from inside, "Don't forget that you lost to Tenjou Utena as well." "As have you." This voice was deeper, calmer, more mature. "Furthermore, I've heard that someone I know says he's quitting the duels now. However, I have not yet given up." Tatsuya frowned, and strained to hear more. He thought maybe he knew these people, but wasn't exactly sure..... duels? Tenjou Utena? "There's someone I want you to meet," the mature voice continued. The other said, "Someone you want me to meet?" "You haven't really given up either, have you? Listen, can't you hear it?" "Hear what?" That was when things turned weird. "So long as your soul hasn't given up entirely........" Tatsuya inhaled sharply. There was..... a feeling.... coming from inside the room. "..... then you should be able to hear this sound....." He'd felt this before... but when..... he had to know.... to see..... his hand groped for the door handle, but slowly, as if the air were turned to molasses. "... running about the Ends of the World." Wind.... he could feel a wind, blowing cold and distant through the door, but he was inside, and there was no wind...... he heard the other one speak again, and a dull kind of roaring sound.... a coat flapped in the breeze..... his hand slowly continued toward the door handle..... "Then come, journey with us, to the world that you desire!!!!!" Tires screeched on the floor from inside the room. He heard car doors open, then close... he thought the door would break, he was leaning against it so hard..... an engine reved, once, and then faded into the distance. And then things were normal again. Tatsuya's hand blurred itself the rest of the way towards the door handle at a frightening speed, and he slammed it open, nearly ripping the old-style door from its track. He stepped inside the room, voice rising in his throat--- and stopped. The room was empty. There were no people. There was no car. Except, in the air, a faint smell of rust....... Tatsuya scratched his head. "Well. That was strange." He stepped back out of the kendo hall, shutting the door carefully behind him. Then he started on the way back to his room; he felt very tired all of a sudden. Act I: Song of the Fallen Kingdom- Redux. *Ook. Long day, long day. And I have to be up in six hours. Looks like I'll be napping through history again.......* Tatsuya finished buttoning up his pyjamas, then collapsed into his bed. "Sometimes I wish I had a roomate," he said aloud to the ceiling. "These single-occupancy rooms are so darn tiny." He lay in bed, for awhile. Slowly, pleasantly, he could feel the lethargy of sleep come over him. *Ahhhhh. That's better. Mmm. Got lots to do tomorrow. Gotta figure out how to smooth things over with Kimiko-sensei. Got classwork.* He blinked once, again slower, then closed his eyes. *I gotta.... figure out.... what that weird thing was in the kendo.... place. Hall. That's it. Know I felt something like that, once before...... can't quite remember when.....* Tatsuya turned over in bed, tangling the sheets around him. Moonlight poured in through the window, framing his slight form in stark black and silver. *I know I could remember..... maybe if I talked it out, or told someone, or something.* "Then, please begin." Tatsuya opened his eyes. He was seated in the elevator. In front of him, a dark mirror. On the wall, a framed butterfly. The elevator jerked into motion, and started gliding smoothly downward. He began. "W-well, I heard the rumor," he began. "That you can have a consultation here when you're in trouble." He swallowed, painfully. (This) "There was a girl I had been watching for a long time. She was a princess to me alone." The elevator whirred along it's path, accelerating. "But she left me to see another man. I'm sure she is being deceived." (I remember this) "Oh, and she was such an innocent girl..." Tatsuya choked, clutching his head in his hands. "I'm sure he'll do all sorts of terrible things to her," he almost wailed, "Like... or that... or even... ahhh!" (This is where I felt that feeling..... before) He regained his composure. "But it's okay. No matter how much of her purity she loses, she'll come back to me. Because of my love for her." (Yes.... it was here. When I spoke of her) Tatsuya tried to smile. It came out sickly. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. "Yes, 'cause in the end, love always wins." The gears creaked, and the elevator accelerated more rapidly. "I would be able to make you happy. I would be able to give away anything, for your sake. I would..... I would...." The elevator roared down the shaft now, whooshing- "WHY CAN'T IT BE ME??!!!" (WAKABA!) His head cradled on his arms, Tatsuya lay against the small ledge, crying his eyes out. A thin man, with pale red hair and a ring the same shade, stood impassively behind him. "You're really a good person, aren't you?" (Him! That's where it came from.... this feeling.....) "So, there's no path for you to take here. Go home." (... it came from the man... ) Tatsuya turned to look at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were blurry and unfocused, so he couldn't see him all that clearly. "This isn't a place for someone like you." Tatsuya looked at him still, and then his eyes flicked blurrily to the room behind him and through the open door. (.... who was touched by the Red Prince) BRAAAAAP!!!!!!! BRAAAAAAAP!!!!!!!! BRAAAAAAAAP!!!!! BRAAAAPPP!!!!!! Tatsuya jerked, tried to sit bolt upright in bed, caught his leg on on the baseboard, got his arm twisted in the pillowcase, and somehow managed to end up on the floor. "Ow! Dammit....." BRAAAAP!!!!! BRAAAAP!!!!! BRA-click. "Note to self: set alarm for radio from now on. Ooof." Hauling himself to his feet in a flurry of bed linen, Tatsuya blearily checked the clock readout. "Six a.m already," he mumbled. "Damn. Gotta wash..... gotta get to class...... breakfast....." * * * The piece of cedar turned on the lathe, revolving rapidly, tiny splinters detaching from the force of the velocity and whirling away. Slowly, carefully, a cutting tool descended to a specific point on the rotating wood, and touched briefly, which sent flowering streamers of sheared wood spiraling out from point of contact. Turning the lathe off, Tatsuya snapped his safety goggles off and examined his handiwork critically. *Hmmm. Not bad.* Dismounting the newly minted table leg from it's clamps, he held it up to the light. *Not bad at all. Now all I need to do is sand and stain this, then do three more.......* He began walking absently over to the large suite of drawers that contained varying grades of sandpaper. When most people thought of Ohtori Academy, they tended to think of its widely renowned departments of math, science, and the various humanities. It wasn't the sort of school where you expected to find the more vocational trades being taught. However, the academy at its founding had been outfitted with large and extensive wood and metal shops, and they had both been dutifully upgraded and maintained by the Board of Trustees over the past half-century. While enrollment in Woodworking 201 wasn't exactly something for the record books, there was a place at Ohtori for such technically adept people as Kazami Tatsuya. Humming softly to himself, he rumagged through the drawers until he found a piece of sandpaper of the proper grit. Securing his unfinished table leg gently in a vice, he began working gently on smoothing it. It would take most of the class period, which meant he wouldn't be able to get to staining today, but it had to be done. "Kazami-kun." Looking up, Tatsuya saw Fujimoto-sensei, who taught Wood Shop and sometimes Metal Shop when Fujitaka-sensei needed him, beckoning him come-hither. "Yes, sir?" asked Tatsuya, heading over to him. Fujimoto handed a small slip of paper over to him. "Kimiko-san, your Foreign Literature teacher, asked me to give this to you." Tatsuya unfolded the note, read it, and groaned. "Great. She wants me to meet her in her office up in Guidance next period. I was hoping she'd forgotten." Fujimoto raised an eyebrow. "In trouble?" "Sleeping in class. No big deal. Most of my teachers wouldn't have made such a big issue, but she's a real tight-a.....err, umm..." Tatsuya suddenly realized he was talking to someone who was _also_ a teacher. Chuckling, Fujimoto clapped him on the shoulder. Tatsuya staggered a bit; Fujimoto was a large man, powerfully built. "I'm going to assume you were going to say 'tight stickler for the rules' and we'll leave it at that, Kazami-kun. Finish that table leg, and then you can be on your way. Oh, and don't sand against the grain like that. Kasugari! What are you doing with that rotary saw?" Muttering softly to himself, Fujimoto headed across the room. Tatsuya nodded to his back, then returned to sanding. WITH the grain. * * * Tatsuya slowly trudged into the Spire building, site of most faculty offices, the main dining hall, the Chairman's Wing, and the Student Council chambers. Climbing the stairs to the third story, which was as high as one could go without taking one of two elevators (the first went to the Council chambers and required a passkey while the second went to the Chairman's Wing, and Tatsuya had no business with _him_) he paused to lean on one of the sills and look out into the small courtyard which contained the rose garden, enjoying the view before he went to Kimiko-sensei's office. Basically, he was trying to kill some time and delay the inevitable. Typical student stuff. *I'm going to be lectured at. I can tell that right now. I wonder if it's going to be the 'think about your future' lecture, or the 'respect my authority!' lecture, or maybe the 'just don't do it again, here, run these files down to the main office for me' thing. I'd be okay with that one.* It wasn't that he got sent to this particular office a lot. It was that students in general were. *Might as well get this over with.* Pushing off the windowsill, he glanced down into the courtyard, and paused for a second. There was a red sports car, a convertible, parked just outside the doors to the rose garden. Inside, he could see people moving around. Tatsuya whistled. "Niiiiiiiiiice car. A Jag, I think." After staring admiringly at it for a moments, he turned away, walked down the hall to the appropriate office, and knocked. * * * "Here," said Juri, tying shut the icepack and handing it to Miki. "This will keep the swelling down." Miki gratefully accepted the soothing bag of ice, cradling it gently against his cheek. "Owww. Saionji-sempai hits pretty hard." >From across the table, Nanami sniffed disdainfully. "Hmmph. I always did think he was nothing more than a bully, albeit a refined one." She fixed her eyes on Miki. "So, you say he challenged Tenjou Utena? Again?" It was the usual mild, clear, beautiful day they had in the spring at Ohtori, and the Student Council members met, as they generally did, on the balcony attached to their chambers halfway up the Spire. Arisugawa Juri leaned casually against the ornate, tastefully designed table they habitually sat around, staring out across the campus with unfocused eyes while Kaoru Miki related the events that had recently transpired in the Rose Garden below....... Saionji Kyoichi's unexpected arrival in a kind of mad rage, his physical aggression, his equally unexpected challenging of Tenjou Utena. Kiryuu Nanami, her expression simply screaming "nonchalance," sat across the table from Miki and listened absently. "...and then, he just sort of... walked away." Miki finished. "Utena-sempai took Himemiya-san back to their room, and we had this meeting planned." Juri sniffed. "Interesting... another challenge, after all this time. Who was the last to duel? Touga, wasn't it?" Miki cocked his head, readjusting the icepack against his cheek. "I want to say yes..... but it seems like so long since Touga duelled. Surely...... there were other challenges in between?" A pregnant silence hung over the table. Miki's brow creased with effort of recollection. Nanami snorted rather suddenly. "Oh, what does it matter what order we went in? Or who duelled last? Saionji is duelling now, and he's welcome to it. We do have other business to attend to..." She gestured at the small pile of official documents lying on the table " ...and I for one would like to get this over with. I have other things to do this afternoon." Juri's eyes narrowed fractionally for a second. Just a second, though. She shrugged. "Certainly, Nanami. I'm sure we can take the time to fill out these..... important documents." Turning around, she pulled out her chair from the table and sat, pulling a small black pen inlaid with orange highlights from the appropriate pocket. Miki and Nanami produced similar blue and yellow ones, and for the next ten minutes or so, the only sounds on the balcony were the scritching noises the pens made, and the occasional soft rustle as papers were shuffled about. "Oh, dear," said Nanami, staring at the last sheet in her pile. She bit her lower lip, a worried expression on her face. "This isn't good." "What is it?" asked Miki, looking up from his own just-completed stack of assorted miscellany. "It's a request by the Board for a complete set of the Student Council's records. Evidently, they're doing some kind of massive review of the Academy's financial history or some such thing." The worried look on Nanami's face increased a notch or two. "Why is that not good?" asked Juri neutrally. "We'll just open up the filing cabinet and- wait. ALL of the records? Even the ones in the Dun- the archives?" Miki shuddered. Underneath the Spire, Ohtori Academy's main building, there were various storage and equipment rooms. Under those rooms were other room with boilers, heating equipment, sewage outlets, and other items necessary in the running of any modern building complex but aren't the sort of things people need to see. And under THOSE rooms were the academy's long-term document archives, or as most students referred to them, the Dungeon. Filled to the brim with old records that nobody looked at often enough to justify keeping in the library, they were cramped, dark, ill-lit where they were lit at all, disorganized to the point that made it nigh-impossible to find anything quickly, damp, and perpetually clogged with the smell of rotting paper. Nobody liked going down to the Dungeon. Teachers had been known to quail in fear, and the janitorial staff refused to enter in groups of less than three. "I don't suppose we can just ignore this?" "Unlikely, Nanami. The Board of Trustees doesn't take well to being ignored." Miki turned his head to look at Juri. "Somebody's got to go down there," he said slowly. Juri nodded, turning to look at Nanami. "Somebody's got to go down there." Nanami glared daggers at he two of them. "Yes," she said evenly, "somebody does, indeed, have to go down there." She rose from her chair. "I'll leave you two to figure out who." Turning on her heel, and tossing her hair over her shoulder in a move deliberately calculated to indicate her disdain while simultaneously not providing any mature way for whoever it was aimed at to take offense, she proceeded to march imperiously towards the elevator. "Wait a minute, Nanami," said Juri irritably, following Nanami. Mike trailed along behind her. "You can't just walk away from this." "Think of it as delegation, Juri." Nanami slid open the elevator gating with a clatter and stepped inside. Juri caught it in her hand as it began to snap shut, holding it open for Miki. "An indication of my trust in your abilities. I _am_ the Acting President, after all......" "Only until Touga returns," mumbled Miki. "And that notwithstanding, being the President merely makes you first among equals, Nanami," Juri added. "I thought you understood that." Nanami pressed a finger to one of the buttons. The elevator jerked, and began descending, humming softly. "Hmmph. I'm still not going down there, Juri. I quite frankly don't care enough." "I'm not going either." Miki said dully, still pressing the bag of melting ice against his cheek. "There's spiders the size of your hand." Juri sighed. "Well, I went the last time we needed to, and certainly have no inclination to go again. It's all... cobwebby." The elevator hummed to a stop. None of them made any move to exit. After a short bit, Miki spoke. "What was that Nanami said about 'delegating?'" * * * Bowing respectfully to Kimiko Hoshi, Tatsuya shut her office door, and walked carefully down the hallway. After rounding a corner, he smiled and broke into a brisk jog that bordered on outright running. *Free! Hahahahahaha! free! Never doing THAT again, thank you very much!* It HAD been the "respect my authority!" lecture on the part of Kimiko-sensei, which basically entailed a good fifteen or so minutes of her ranting expressively at him about how she expected, nay, DEMANDED the respect due her position from the students under her. Many verbose points were made, usually using her riding crop to emphasize them. Tatsuya had smiled when neccessary, nodded at the appropriate points, and once restrained the urge to giggle. But now it was over, and the best part was that he now had a good half hour free before he had to go to another class. *Ah, life isn't so bad, really.* Whistling as he reached a stairway, he glanced about once or twice to make sure no one was watching, then hopped up on the bannister and slid down the flight of stairs fast, laughing softly to himself. Hopping off at the bottom, his momentum forced him to carry himself forward at a run for a bit. Which is why he couldn't stop himself in time to avoid running over the blue-haired boy coming out of the gated elevator, who had his head turned in such a manner as to not notice the fellow student bearing down on him. "Hey you, look ou- OOOOF!!!!!!!!" Tatsuya went down with the other boy in a tangled heap, catching his head on the wall along the way. "Owww............" Disentangling himself from the other boy (who, he noted rather sourly, was already being helped to his feet) Tatsuya lay his back for a couple of seconds, trying to blink the spots out of his eyes. "Miki, are you all right?" Tatsuya levered himself up on one elbow, blinking the last flashing white dots out of his eyes and looked up. The speaker, a tall, regal girl, was supporting the blue-haired boy he'd run over, a look of concern on her face. Behind her an annoyed-looking blonde stood. All three were wearing lavishly styled uniforms of similar cut. It took a few seconds for his brain to complete the "special uniforms + bearing + they came out of the locked elevator = Student Council = I'm screwed" equation, but it eventually got through. He then got to enjoy the many-splendored pleasures of trying to regain his footing while breaking out in a sort of cold sweat. He'd heard STORIES about these people...... at least five people he knew lived in mortal dread of the tall one - *Julie? Jury? No, Juri. I think* - for no adequately explained reason, which merely allowed his imagination to come up with its own. "I'm fine, Juri-sempai. This just isn't my day, I guess........" Juri glared coldly at Tatsuya. "And what do you think you were doing, running through here like that? Someone could have gotten hurt." Standing fully upright, Tatsuya began casting about for a response. The blonde (he tried absently to come up with her name) had gone from "annoyed" to "irate" and was now glaring down at him *I'm _taller_ than her..... how is she _doing_ that?* with an expression on her face that didn't exactly bode well. "Well? Say something for yourself! Stupid boy, running through the halls like it's the end of the world or something, I swear.... I should report you to someone for disciplinary action. It's unsafe. You had best hope Miki isn't seriously hurt....." Tatsuya ulped. Backing up a step, he sketched the most formal apologetic bow he could manage at the moment. "Errr.... I'm sorry, I really am...... I just wasn't watching were I was going, and he came out of the elevator so suddenly..... really, it was an accident......." "Sorry doesn't cut it, young man." Tatsuya blinked. *I'm reasonably certain I'm at least a year older than this girl.* "I'm okay, really, Nanami." The blue-haired boy (Miki, his brain supplied: Kaoru Miki. You voted for him as Secretary last elections) said, waving off his colleague. "It was just a little bump. I'm sure he didn't mean to do it." "Er, that's right." Tatsuya was starting to relax a little bit, although he still expected some sort of retribution. "Really, I am quite sorry; I didn't expect anybody else to be in the halls." He bowed again, deeper this time. "I'm sure there must be some way to make it up to you....." Ah, bargaining. The last resort of the desperate. Miki looked at Juri. Juri looked at Nanami. Nanami looked back at Miki. Tatsuya got the feeling he'd just stepped in something unpleasant and it merely hadn't registered yet. "Why, yes," said Nanami, suddenly with a toothy grin on her face. "I believe, in fact, there is something you could do to make it up to us......." * * * The best word to describe the room was "cavernous." The walls were partially concrete and partially bedrock, with partially exposed wiring running along them up to the ceiling, from which dangled lightbulbs that only partially worked, swaying back and forth gently in the convection currents the room formed, providing only partial illumination; the rest was in shadows. The second-best word to describe the room was "partially." Nothing looked like it was completed. The huge shelves, boxes, and filing cabinets scattered, stacked, and piled haphazardly in every available space were often missing fronts, backs, and sides. Two-by-fours were used as makeshift supports in places, especially where water damage (most likely caused by leakage from the exposed pipes overhead) had occured. The stench of rotting paper and wood, and the sharp tang of rusting metal, filled the entire space. Tatsuya stood at the top of the rickety wooden stairs that led down from the boiler room and surveyed the wasteland. "I _volunteered_ for this?" Sighing heavily, he adjusted the beam of the electric torch he'd brought along and proceeded carefully into the gloom. "'There must be some way to make it up to you'.... what was I thinking?" (Juri pressed some papers into his hands. "Here. You can run this.... errand for us. Quite a simple task, really...... just go down to the long-term document archives and retrieve this list of items........" He blinked. "Long-ter.... you mean the Dungeon?" Nanami tittered slightly, still smiling at him. "Oh, they're not as bad as everybody says, really.") "Bitch," muttered Tatsuya. He checked the list they'd given him. "Cabinet D-17...... Expenditures. How precise. Well, it says 'Cabinet' not 'box' or 'shelf,' so presumably it's in one of those big filing cabinets over there....." Something skittered across the floor behind him. "I really hope that wasn't a spider." * * * Three hours, two toppled bookshelves, and thirty-three spider scares later..... Now covered with an unsightly layer of dust, Tatsuya perched precariously on top of a rickety ladder he'd found leaning against one wall. The electric torch was clasped firmly between his teeth as he rooted with both hands through the depths of the tall cabinet; he was on the furthest side of the room from the stairway up and out, and the lights didn't reach this far back. "Now, lefts thee..... it thould be behinth thith thtack........ ah." He reached out and grabbed the stack of papers. "Theeth THOULD be the latht of them....." he flipped through the sheaf, then frowned. There seemed to be a page missing. He peered back into the cabinet. There, lying way in the back, was a tiny corner of white peeking out from the shadows. He stretched out and manged to barely scrape its edge. That was when something sharp and metal flashed out from that shadow and bit into his palm, hard. "AAAOOOWWW!!!!!!!!" Tatsuya screamed out involuntarily, the electric torch flying from his mouth and clattering away on the floor, its beam winking out. This was of only incidental concern to Tatsuya, as his violent start had caused the old ladder to sway back and forth precariously, before one of its struts snapped and the entire thing collapsed under him. He hit the ground hard, with another cry of pain, and rolled, unfortunatly, right into the wall. Or at least, where a wall WOULD have been if the stairway he hadn't noticed in the dark weren't. The steps were raw concrete, and lower down simply rock carved into steps, and they hadn't been used very much. Thus, they were extremely sharp and pointy, and hurt quite a bit to roll down. Tatsuya desperatly covered his head with his hands and kicked at the wall to try and slow his decent; he was somewhat successful in this, but tore his shirtsleeves into strips and picked up quite a few bruises in the process. Since there were one hundred steps, it took him quite a bit of time to reach the bottom, and when he did he was concentrating far too much on not breaking his neck to be relieved. He'd built up a LOT of momentum by then, and continued rolling despite his best efforts. He jabbed out an arm and flung it across the floor desperatly scrabbling for purchase, which turned the roll into a kind of abbreviated skid right about the time he passed through the archway. |click| Tatsuya, having finally skidded to a halt, lay in a tattered heap on the floor, blood oozing from the wound in his hand. Groaning, he raised his head, and heard the sound of rushing water somewhere inside the walls...... And a huge portcullis swung down from the ceiling and dropped snugly into the archway with a loud clash of iron on stone. * * * [That was not very nice of you] >Hush< * * * Tatsuya pulled himself up against the wall and sat there for a bit, breathing heavily. Absently, he pulled a small chunk of stone out of his hair, and brushed off his shirt and pants as best he could. His hand was still bleeding. "Well. That wasn't pleasant." It was also, however, amazingly non-fatal, a fact for which he thanked the gods profusely. Groaning, using the wall to support himself--it, more than anything else, was keeping him from falling over and passing out--he got shakily to his feet. "Ugh." Turning back to the archway he'd fallen through, he examined the portcullis. A huge, almost looming construction of heavy, unadorned, cold-forged black iron, it was quite intimidating. Its teeth penetrated deep into the rock floor through special grooves carved especially for them. While obviously well-cared for, there were numerous patches of rust all across its surface, looking almost as if they'd been carefully placed there for effect. There was also no obvious way of reopening the thing. A portcullis, Tatsuya knew, could normally be opened one of two ways: by lifting it directly out of it's resting place (unlikely, given his stickboy figure) or by employing a complicated system of chains and counterweights attached to an easily-turned wheel, which did not appear to be in evidence. He wrapped his arm around a bar and experimentally tugged it toward him. There was a brief, almost unheard scratch as the thing shifted slightly in its grooves. He didn't even bother trying to lift. *Well, heck. How am I going to get back up?* Tatsuya squinted in the dim light of the place. He could just barely see the steps he'd so unceremoniously tumbled down on the portcullis' far side. *Hey, wait. I _can_ see. But I dropped the flashlight, so how..?* He turned around. There was a short tunnel through the rock - *Actual rock. I must be real deep* - and an obviously well-lit area beyond it... that was where the dim glow that suffused everything came from. Giving up on the portcullis angle for now, Tatsuya headed toward the light to see if there was maybe a way up. He ducked under the low hanging rock lip at the exit to the tunnel, and looked around at the room he was in. "... wow." The place was cavernous, and not in the dank, dark, "underground lair" way the dungeon had been; this more recalled the vaulted magnificence of a cathedral. Tall columns, decorated in the rich Corinthian style, formed a perfect circle around a domed central area. Nine torches blazed in wrought holders upon each column, at varying heights. Three huge lanterns, suspended on chains from the ceiling, hung in an equilateral triangle over the central area, glowing grandly. The effect of the light was such that the areas around the edge of the room, outside the arches created by the columns, were wreathed in warm, emberlike shadows, while the central area itself was as bright as an open field on a sunny afternoon. On the far side, opposite him, Tatsuya could see the opening of another tunnel. The entire place was constructed of finely polished stone. And everywhere, everywhere, were the blades. Hundreds, possibly even a full thousand of them, of every conceivable shape, size, and style. French duelling daggers resting in velvet cases next to massive claymores nailed to the wall next to arabic cruciform blades hung from the ceiling next to ancient katanas in laquered wooden racks. Some were in special glass display cases, with little placards on them; others lay discarded on the floor in odd corners, covered by a thin patina of dust. They were all very beautiful, and all very broken. Most of them had been snapped off a little way from the hilt, or had only half a shattered blade. Beautiful, but broken, nothing more than rusted half-swords with tarnished hilts....... isn't it pretty? Tatsuya whirled around to his right, and thought he saw something flash into shadow and disappear. "...wow." After he took a few tentative steps into the chamber and nothing else weird happened, he slowly walked between two columns to stand beneath the dome. Craning his neck around, he tried to take it all in. He stopped in the middle of the room, directly beneath the central point of the dome, in a clear area where no swords were. On impulse, he looked up, and was impressed all over again. The dome had a beautiful a mosaic of the star-speckled night sky--the winter constellations, Tatsuya thought, picking out Orion and Polaris and Venus. Despite the bright light thrown by the lanterns, it looked somehow appropriate. The centerpiece of it was the full moon, tiled high up at the very center. And, simultaneously seeming both out of place yet perfectly fitting, a sword had been embedded hilt-down straight into the moon's center; a slender blade, double-edged, with a hilt carved in leafed green and gold, and a rose-shaped pommel. Tatsuya whistled softly. "Whoever built this place really went all-out." There was a small plaque set into the stone floor, with words in the Latin alphabet. He knelt to read it. ARMORY "Zwei Seelen wohnen, ach! in meiner brust..." "What in the world........." he murmured. (I've been here before.) "Yes," Tatsuya said softly, dreamily. "I have......." (I remember another sword.) "There was." Standing up, moving in an odd, sleepwalker fashion, he moved away from the plaque, towards a glass case that looked newer than the rest. Above and behind him, the shadows moved in strange patterns across the roof of the dome. "In here....... I think." His hand reached out and lightly stroked the roof of the case, in which rested a broken duelling blade, with a flared, crescent-shaped hilt of gold. "I think.... this one. It might be......" go on, really look! (Open it.) Tatsuya reached down and flipped up the clasp holding the case shut. There was no lock. There didn't need to be. look at the light slide right around that tarnish! He reached in and seized the blade, lifting it off the fine velevet cushion. It was surprisingly heavy in his hand. if you scrape away the rust with your fingernail, you can look at it closer! He absently rubbed the broken end of it with his thumb and forefinger. A tiny flake of rust curled off and drifted slowly to the floor. He held the sword higher, so that it would catch the torchlight, and he could get a closer look. go on, look! (I know this blade.) "Yes, I do." He turned it left and right, moving it in slow circles through the air, never taking his eyes from it. especially at the angles, where the shadows fall in such interesting red and black patterns...... "What is this place?" Tatsuya said, in a distant voice. "What's happening?" Behind him, the shadows moved. look close enough, and you can even see..... "I wonder......" ~o/ kashira kashira, gozonji kashiraaaaaa! ~o/ * * * (Who are you?) The sword stirred. There was a building once, said the sword. Not just a building, my building. I, I, I remember there was an elevator, and an office. There was a basement. There was a boy in the basement, I recall. I, I. And there were roses. Such black roses as you may dream of. Great black roses that bloomed at the ends of the world. One hundred were sacrificed. For the revolution. (Who were you?) And there were roses, black roses. I, I, me. Such black roses as you may dream of. Great black roses that bloomed at the ends of the world. The revolution. One hundred were sacrificed. Me. To the revolution. And there were black roses. Me, me, me. Revolutionize the world. Such revolution roses as you may dream of. Great hall elevator rose dream at the ends of the world. Me, me. Sacrificed. Dream of revolution. One hundred were sacrificed. To me revolution greater rose glory dream. Failed. (What did you do?) Me, I, me. Revolution. (Can you hear me?) Red. Failed. I, me, him. One hundred were sacrificed. For the revolution. (What was your name?) Name? Name. I, I, I remember names. Boy in the basement, name. Me. Name. (Tell me!) Name. My name. Me, I, I. Nemkage. Mikaguro. Name, name. You have a name. You, you. Tell me. Give me. (Wha.... stop that.) Name, name, name. Give me your name. Me, me. Have name, live. Won't you tell me? Revolution. For the world. (I won't.) Name, name, name, tell, tell, tell......... (Stop that.) Name, name, name, name, tell, tell, tell, tell, I, I, I, I...... (ENOUGH!) * * * Stop looking now. It was just a sword. * * * Tatsuya dropped the blade, its hilt smeared with his blood, back onto its cushion and staggered backwards. His pupils were dilated and his breath came in short gasps as he struggled to regain his equilibrium. The glass case slowly fell closed over the discarded blade, its clasp swinging around with the momentum and latching itself. "Okay." Tatsuya was bent nearly double, his hands on both his knees to support himself. "Okay. Bad, bad. No more freakishness today. Gotta find way out." He took a few deep breaths, squeezed his eyes closed, and opened them again. "Right." Standing fully erect, he turned towards the tunnel out of the room he'd noticed before, opposite the way he'd entered, and started towards it. He heard a small popping sound to his immediate right. Turning to look, Tatsuya saw a small felt-lined case in which rested the broken hafts of a group of French duelling daggers. There was an open indentation where one had fallen out; it lay on the floor near his foot. Without really thinking about it, he bent down, picked it up, slotted it back into place, and continued on his way. Pop. Pop. This time, Tatsuya stopped. He turned back around, slowly. Same case; same daggers. Only now there where _two_ open spaces, and two daggers lying on the floor. Pointing at him. *Maybe the case is improperly balanced,* he thought, backing up a step. Pop. A third dagger....... _jumped,_ there was no other way to describe it... out of the case at him. Tatsuya gulped. He backed up two more steps, towards the tunnel behind him. Two more daggers jumped out of the case; the ones already on the ground hopped towards him. A tiny part of his brain that wasn't numbed by fear or pain noted that rusty dull broken blades would probably hurt MORE than clean, sharp ones. He backed up again, and glanced over his shoulder at the beckoning tunnel behind him, which probably saved his life. He ducked as the gigantic broadsword, swinging down from the ceiling, nearly took his head off. The display wires that had been holding it aloft snapped fully as it swooshed over his head, and he heard it hit the floor behind him and wail mournfully across the stone. Then Tatsuya heard _another_ sound behind him, and threw himself to the right, sprawling, as the entire family of daggers whistled over his left shoulder and rebounded against a nearby pillar. Two of them, snarling almost, tried to jump towards him again; the others just lay on the floor making soft pinging noises, as if cooling from a great heat. a great clattering arose from the gathered iron The swords -ALL the swords- started shaking. They rattled in their cases, struggling against their glass shells. They shook on the walls, writhing in their steel capstans. They swirled about in the air above like birds of prey, suspended from their wires. Tatsuya wiped a bit of blood from the side of his mouth, practically threw himself onto his feet, and ran like hell into the tunnel. Behind him, glass cases shattered, display stands ripped from walls, and wires snapped as a huge wave of steel poured onto the floor and surged after him. need........ need...... NEED Tatsuya ran faster, faster. He tried not to think to hard about what was happening, only to run, the torches on the walls flaring into blurs as he passed them, his heart pounding in his ears, don't think, just run, faster, faster, there's not a huge angry wall of desperate hungry broken swords behind you, oh no there isn't, things like this don't happen, you can't HEARRRRR themmmmm.... want........ want........ WANT Faster, faster! Down the tunnel! Don't look back! Now climb the stairs! Don't stumble! That'd be bad! Look, there's a door! * * * In a disused part of Ohtori's cellar, a stone door banged open, and a harried, bleeding figure in tattered clothing rushed out. He stopped, turned, grabbed the door's edge, and, with a gasping sob, desperately flung it shut. He then collapsed against it, breathing heavily. And maybe it was just Tatsuya's imagination, but he thought the door shuddered slightly, and that he heard a series of muffled clangs and scrapes, like a great many metal objects moving very fast had rebounded from the far side. He sat down and rested his back against the door. Surrounding him were crates and wooden things, and the dim, soft glow electric bulbs. It was cool, and dry, not like it had been in the Dungeon or that... other place. *What the hell was that? Did it really happen? How? Whu- what's happ'ning here.....* Tatsuya was suddenly bone tired, exhausted; it was becoming difficult for him to think straight. *I don't...... this..... ugh.* The angry blonde girl wasn't going to be happy. He hadn't finished cataloguing the archives. *I'm bleeding. Wow. That's not good.* Indeed, he was bleeding, from various scrapes and cuts. The wound on his right hand, in particular, was a deep, angry red. It throbbed. Tatsuya pushed against the door, using the leverage to rise to his feet. *I should probably... go somewhere. Up. Up sounds.... good.* Resting his head against the wall (door? was there really one there? it looked exactly like any other part of the wall) briefly, he stepped back and turned to leave. He got exactly three and one half steps. Then he noticed the three swords floating gently in front of him, in a loose sort of pyramid, and froze mid-stride. *Oh, no....... nononononononononono...... this isn't happening........* He swallowed, trying to clear the enormous lump that had formed, cancre-like, in his throat. He took a step backwards. The blade to the left drifted forward a corresponding distance. It was barely a blade, in fact; more of a massive broadsword hilt with a small bit of badly rusted metal sticking out of it. A tiny gold cross was etched on the crosspiece, and it wobbled a little as it flew. Tatsuya licked his lips and glanced nervously to the left and right. Large crates, too big to scramble over; no help there. He took another step back. The blade to the right moved ahead, passing its brother to the left. A slender thing, with a hilt all curves in silver; it looked european. Arrogant, it seemed, if a sword could be. Tatsuya backed up another pace. His back hit the wall. That probably heralded something.... not good. The blade in the centre, floating slightly higher and much steadier, moved. It was nearly intact; three-quarters of a full sword of gleaming steel extended from an only slightly tarnished katana hilt, terminating abruptly in a jagged tear. It seemed somehow.... feminine. A tiny part of Tatsuya's brain pondered the precise meaning of this while the rest of him gibbered in fear as it floated gently forward, past its two brethren, to lightly caress his cheek with its point. [I am sorry, but it must be this way. We will not use you too badly.] Then the three shot upward together, touched together in a trefoil above Tatsuya's head, and swooped as one down, cut a great hole in his chest, rent bone as they sought his heart, and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and SCREAMED.... |flash| screamed as he clutched his head between gauntleted hands and tore at his mail shirt, blood running from a wound on his scalp; on the field below, his King was dying, and the shining dream was dying with him. Behind him, a red ermine robe swirled in the breeze, and a voice chuckled, "Oh, what can ail thee, Knight-at-arms?" |flash| screamed as he cut the soldiers down on the Rue de la Char et Pain, silver blade working feverishly to and fro. On the balcony above, the Count watched, smiling faintly. "La voie......" It had seemed so easy, those months past, when they'd met in smoky cafes.... "La verite......" And talked of the revolution that would make things right. "La vie." |flash| screamed softly, if there could be such a thing, into the arms of the woman who had come when the American's firebombs swept over the city and burned her house. The woman, who was awfully pretty and had long hair just like Mother did, stroked her hair and looked kindly upon her with large green eyes. "Be not afraid." |flash| aren't they silly? * * * |plink| A drop of water, in the stillness. (Listen.) Who's... there? (Listen. Don't-) >That's enough from you.< (Lis-) Struggle. (-ten.) Discontinuity. * * * but i wonder..... will you still remember me, when you wake up? Tatsuya opened his eyes. "Where I am, and what is the time?" The first thing he noticed was that that he was in a bed. Soft, white sheets; a clean pillow, well-stuffed but smelling faintly of disinfectants, like a hospital bed or an old man's room would. Sitting up, he winced; pain, coming in dull lances from all over his body and a spot on his head; gingerly reaching up with one hand, he found a bandage wrapped about his brow, and, for that matter, around his hand as well. He was also shirtless; wider, stronger bandages wrapped about the upper part of his torso, over his sternum, and looped about one of his shoulders. "Ah, I see you're awake, young man. Excellent." Tatsuya looked at the voice. A tall, severe-looking man in a white doctor's coat stood in a doorway some feet away, holding a clipboard. Between the two of them was a row of well-made beds, each identical, and though the doorway he could see the back end of a metal examination table, a jar full of tongue depressers resting on it. Three tall, narrow windows pierced the wall across from him; outside, he could see Ohtori's familiar west wing across the walkway, and the very tip of the Spire peeking out from above it. "....... oh. I'm in the Infirmary, aren't I," he said, mostly to himself. The man in the doorway nodded slightly, and stepped forward. "I'm relieved to see you awake..." Quick glance on at the clipboard. "...Kazami-san. You weren't in any real trouble, but that was a nasty crack on the head you had, among other things. I was worried we might have to check you into a proper hospital with a possible concussion. I'm Doctor Akito, by the way." Setting the clipboard down, he withdrew a small rod from his pocket and pressed a switch on one end, causing a small beam of light to shoot out the other. "Now that you've regained consciousness, I need to check a few things.... If you could open your eyes as wide as you can and tilt your head towards me....." Tatsuya rather groggily endured a good quarter hour of various pokes, prods, and probes from the good doctor, not really being in much shape to do anything else but dully acquiesce. "Ummm....... Doctor," he asked rather hesitantly when it appeared Akito was done, "by any chance, do you know-" What the hell happened to me? If it was all a dream? What's going on? "How I managed to... end up here?" "Oh?" Akito arched an eyebrow. "You don't remember? That's not a very good sign, young man....." He made a small notation on his clipboard. "Well," said Tatsuya, slowly, choosing his words deliberately, "I was down in the Dun- er, the archives, running an errand for the Student Council, and..... I guess the ladder I was on wasn't all that stable, because I fell off it-" *And rolled down stairs that shouldn't have been there, and got trapped behind a portcullis, and there were swords there, many swords, alll broken, but they still could do things, oh my yes, and they did, they did something to me-* "-and that's all I remember," Tatsuya finshed lamely. He put one hand behind his head in a sheepish guesture. "I guess I must have hit my head pretty hard, huh?" Akio looked at him oddly for a moment, then nodded. "That gels with what I was told, Kazami-san; the janitor who found you said you were lying in a smashed crate in a storage room, bleeding from a number of minor lacerations." He made another little mark on his clipboard. "Are you sure nothing else happened? You had a lot more cuts than I'm used to seeing from a simple fall; it looked like someone had dragged you across a rough floor or shoved you down a flight of stairs or somesuch." "Errr.... no, no, it was just the fall. Nothing else...... happeed, I'm sure." *Well, nothing else that I _can_ be sure of, anyway......* "All right, then." Akito's brow furrowed a bit. "You're going to have a nasty scar on your right hand, I'm afraid." Tatsuya glanced at his bandaged palm. "Ah. Er. Well, I can deal with that.... I guess." "You've little choice." Akito checked his clipboard again. "Well, you had quite a lot of scrapes, bruises, and small cuts, but they were more numerous than serious; you'll merely be covered in scabs for a week or so. I'd like to keep you here another two or three hours, just to make sure you're all right up here..." he tapped Tatsuya's brow lightly, "...and to make sure you eat something -Nurse Yume is making a yakitori run right now- but you can probably sleep in your own bed tonight." He scribbled a few more notes. "I'll give you some painkillers before you leave, and I'll want to see you again tommorrow -you've been excused from classes, by the way- but otherwise you should be fine." "Ah." Tatsuya allowed himself to fall backwards, his head softly settling back into the pillow. "Well, that's good, then." He felt a draft of cool air slide over his bare stomach, and shivered slightly. "Could I have my shirt back, please, in the meantime?" "Cold?" Akito smiled thinly. "I could give it back, but it wouldn't do you very much good; the thing was ripped to tatters. Is there a friend I could call to go get you a spare one from your room?" "That won't be neccessary," said a cultured female voice from the doorway. Tatsuya turned his head, and saw Arisugawa Juri standing in the door, flanked by Kaoru Miki and a somewhat irked-looking Kiryuu Nanami. * * * After making the requisite hellos and small talk, the Council had comfortably arrayed itself around Tatsuya; he felt rather hemmed in, actually, with Juri and Miki flanking him and Nanami standing imperiously at the foot of his sickbed, but didn't dare complain. "We really can't apologize enough, Kazami-san," said Miki, with genuine concern in his voice. "Yes," affirmed Juri, her face studious and neutral, "it was our responsibility to take care of what needed doing in the dungeon, and we should never have tried to palm it off on anybody else, no matter how unpleasant." She shot Nanami a look that Tatsuya knew he wasn't supposed to have seen. "Isn't that right, Nanami?" "Of course," said Nanami, after a pause that was just a hairsbreadth too long. "I couldn't agree more, Juri." She smiled charmingly at Tatsuya in what he knew was a manner calculated to be sweet and disarming, but now, somehow, he knew it was false; bright gilt over a dark and unpleasant surface. "I do hope you recover quickly." Tatsuya bit back a cutting reply that suddenly swam to the top of his mind. "Um. Thanks, I guess." Miki nodded, continuing. "Anyway, Kazami-san, we felt we owed you something in return for all the troubles you went through-" "Oh no, really," Tatsuya said, his natural politeness reasserting itself. "You don't have to-" "Oh, but we do," said Miki, not missing a beat. "We wouldn't feel right about it otherwise." Nanami sniffed. She might have just been clearing her nose. "Yes," Juri spoke. "We had a spare shirt brought from your room-" She passed a neatly folded and pressed uniform top over to Tatsuya. "-your dorm supervisor was more than accomodating. We also talked to your teachers." Her lips quirked into the smallest of smiles. "If you need to take a couple.... extra days off from your classes, nobody will mind." "Wow. I mean, really, you didn't have to go to all that trouble....." "Nonsense." Juri waved a hand. "It's one of the responsibilities of the Council to see to the needs and well-being of the students." "After all..." said Miki, clicking a stopwatch and staring hard at the numbers before slipping it back into his pocket. Tatsuya decided not to comment. "...we'd hardly be very good representatives if we didn't, would we?" "If we're quite done here," Nanami interjected suddenly, "We still have those documents that started all this to retrieve." She made a flicking dismissive guesture with her hand. "Happily," said a deep, mellifluous voice from the doorway, "you won't be required to anymore." Tatsuya started and turned towards the speaker, a tall, handsome man leaning against the doorframe. He smiled, and, brushing his long red hair back over the shoulder of his sparkling white uniform, pushed off into the room. "I've already had all neccessary documents gathered and sorted," said Student Council President Kiryuu Touga, brandishing a large stack of manila folders bound together with a red cord. He cracked a half-smile. "It seems I can't even take a leave of absence without the rest of you almost getting someone killed." "Oniisama!" Nanami practically hurled herself across the room, wrapping her arms around Touga's waist and spinning around him like some yellow tether. "You came out, to see me!" Touga smiled indulgently. "Of course I did, Nanami." Juri stood up. "Well, this is abrupt, Mr. President." There was a mild sting of rebuke in her tone. "I suppose this means you're done moping in your room." Tatsuya stared curiously at Touga, tuning out the conversation floating around his head; Nanami was saying something small and petty to Juri, and Miki was absently toying with his stopwatch again. Something about Kiryuu Touga...... absently scratching at a sudden twinging itch on his chest, Tatsuya studied him; the man's voice seemed familiar, though he had only ever seen him from a distance before. His eyes suddenly narrowing, Tatsuya's left hand slowly trailed down to rest against his hip, and readjusted something that wasn't there. *I remember you,< he thought, easing his hand on his sword's hil- "-shouldn't have been down there by yourself in the first place, Kazami-kun." Blinking, his train of thought disrupted, Tatsuya realized Touga was addressing him. "Ah, really?" Touga nodded. "It's really not safe to be alone down there; maintenance in the dungeon is shoddy at best." He gave Tatsuya a winning smile. "Next time, get a custodian or teacher to escort you; they'll be accomodating, I assure you. Of course, you probably aren't quite ready for a 'next time,' eh?" Tatsuya laughed a little, nervously; he got the feeling that he was expected to. "No, I guess not." "Excellent." Touga glanced at a small clock hanging on the wall above Tatsuya's head. "Ah, look at the time. I hope you'll excuse us, Kazami-kun, but the Council really does have to go over these records before we hand them into the Board..." He inclined his head at Tatsuya once, and then moved to leave, Nanami still hanging off him, gushing as her yellow hair spilled over the white of his uniform sleeve. "Wait, Touga," said Juri, following them with a slightly cross look on her face. "You can't just return after an absence like yours and immediatly assume your former role with no explanation....." "Actually, Juri," said Miki, following behind her, "according to the bylaws...." "Leave Oniisama alone, Juri.... you should just be glad he's better." Kazami Tatsuya now forgotten, their obligation to him fulfilled, the Student Council left the infirmary with barely a look in his direction, though Miki did glance over his shoulder apologetically as their voices faded from his ears. Tatsuya watched them go, then, sighing, lay back on his pillow, drawing the blanket up after him. *This has been quite a day.* He lay for awhile, listening to the soft click-click-click of the clock's second hand as it curcled the face and watching the shadows lengthen outside the window; sunset was coming. Eventually, Doctor Akito brought him dinner. * * * First there was no-one, then two stood in the center of the chamber, under the great dome. The Red Prince surveyed his Armory. "What a mess." It was indeed. A thin layering of glass shards covered the floor, the remnants of display cases. Guttered torches burned in smashed and twisted braziers on chipped columns, and two of three lanterns had fallen from the ceiling; the last, its sides staved in, gleamed only fitfully. The blades were scattered willy-nilly; most lay in disorderly heaps, while a few were stuck into the walls. A long line of them trailed off into the far tunnel. The dome, curiously, was unmarred; only the single sword piercing the moon violated its curve. The Red Prince sniffed, and walked a circuit of the room, his shoes crunching on glass. Casually, he selected a rather old sword hilt with only a half-inch of rusting blade remaining. Half the grip flaked to red dust against his palm as he picked it up. "My, and what have we been up to?" He slowly ran a finger down the fragment of the blade; watched it splinter under his light touch. Slowly, he tightened his grip; rust flakes and metal fragments rained to the floor, until, with a sickening crunch, the entire thing came to bits in his hand. He smiled. The other had dispassionately gone to examine the chips in the columns and fallen lanterns, and frowned as he ran one big hand over scarred marble and craned his thick neck to look at some of the snapped wires hanging from the ceiling. "Much work will need to be done repair this, Lord." He absently rubbed his square chin. "Of course," said the Red Prince, clapping his hands clean. "I leave that to you. Everything back the way it was, and everything in its place." He indicated the entire chamber with a gesture. "Oh, and and something to keep this from happening again, would you?" he said dismissively. "Come to me for whatever you need." The other man hesitated, then saluted with his hand to his heart. "As you say, Lord." The Red Prince walked across the chamber, striding casually under the dome, and then he was gone. The other man stood, watching the space where the Prince had stood for some small time. Then he bent to his work. A tiny flame flared, adding its light to the darkness. And if anyone had been listening, a little later they would have heard the slow, rhythmic fall of hammers begin, ringing like bells against the metal and stone they shaped. * * * Dinner was good. Sometime after the nurse had taken away his tray, Akito returned, ran Tatsuya through another series of cursory tests exactly like those he had before, and, leaving a small bottle of painkillers on the bedside table, pronounced him fit to leave. *Doctor Akito certainly doesn't have much in the way of bedside manner,* thought Tatsuya, shrugging into his shirt. He winced at the protest his right shoulders raised as he forced his arms into the sleeves. *Ouch. I'm going to be needing these things.* He pocketed the bottle of painkillers. Buttoning up his shirt, he walked through the outer office, exchanging nods with the nurse, and opened the door to the outside. It was late evening, now; the sun lay fat and golden against the hills, and Tatsuya had to blink against it and raise a hand to the level of his eyes as he walked down the few steps leading to the walkway and turned towards home. "Wait, Kazami-san." Tatsuya turned, and saw Akito standing in the doorway, motioning towards him. "Yes, Doctor?" he asked. Akito descended the steps to him. "I forgot to give you your clasp back, young man." He pressed a small piece of jewelry into Tatsuya's right hand. "It must have completely slipped my mind." Tatsuya blinked. "My.... clasp?" Akito nodded. "The janitor who found you said you were holding it quite tightly, in your left hand. Really, I can't understand why you'd be fiddling with ornaments while on top of a rickety ladder...." Muttering to himself, Akito turned without waiting for Tatsuya to respond and returned to his office, closing the door with a heavy thud. Tatsuya blinked again. *I don't have a clasp...* He stared at the piece Akito had given him. It was a small, circular piece of well-laquered metal. The front had been carved with a highly stylized rose crest, done all in steely silver; it gleamed when Tatsuya held it up to catch the last of the daylight. The back was enameled all in black, and a small gold pin to pierce cloth extended a quarter-inch from its center; a pressure clasp, also gold, was hooked snugly to it, to be removed and then reaffixed to the pin to hold it in place. *Wow. S'nice.* Tatsuya bounced it on his palm a few times, ruminating. *Well, it's mine..... I guess,* he finally decided. *Why not?* Without really thinking about it, he reached to the collar of his shirt. Picking out the thread from his top button was the work of moments; fumbling slightly, using the clasp to resecure his shirt took only a few moments longer. Humming softly to himself, Tatsuya turned again, and walked off towards the sunset, and home. * * * Miracle of miracles Look what the night dragged in - It's a pocket full of misery And trouble on the wind You spoiled the best years Of your life You took them all in vain Now you think that you're forgiven But you can't be born again --Eurythmics, "Don't ask me why." End of Sisyphus - Act 1 Utena and its characters belongs to the Be-Papas, Saito Chiho, Shogakukan, Shokaku Iinkai and TV Tokyo. -Notes and Miscellany- Ah, the notes. Where the author gets to rant, and you can't stop him! Serious, serious kudos go to Alan Harnum, pre-reader, editor, friend, and the Amazing Canadian Human Grammar-Checker. He provided a couple writing assists, and made the nifty poster you'll see if you follow the above URL. He also, of course, writes 'Jaquemart,' which is well on its way to becoming the definitive Utena fic. Without him, 'Sisyphus' wouldn't be nearly as good as I'd like to imagine it is. A few points, in seriousness: -When? Where? Who? Which? 'Sisyphus' takes place during the series, and runs parralel to it from Episodes 25-39; this part took place at the same time Episode 25. -Kazami Tatsuya? Who's he? Tatsuya shows in three episodes of the series, 19, 33, and 39. The back of his head cameos in the movie, for those of you who have seen that. For the full story, in all of its emotionally-scaring glory, either watch Episode 19, "The Song of the Fallen Kingdom," or read the script at www.duellists.tj. -"kashira kashira, gozonji kashira?" The Shadow Play Girls signature statement, which I feel is much more effective in the original japanese than in its english equivalent. In the fansubs, it's translated as 'I wonder, I wonder, do you know what I wonder?' or something similar. I dislike the english wording, so I stuck with this.