All That I've Ever Wanted by E. Liddell -------------------------------------------------------------------------- This more or less fits in between episodes 32 and 33 of the TV series and does not take the movie into account. I'm not sure whether it says more about Akio or about Touga, and I'm not sure I *want* to know. Judge for yourselves. This story contains implied male/male sex. If that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. As usual, Shoujo Kakumei Utena and associated characters do not belong to me, yadda yadda yadda. Direct any feedback to eliddell at dark hyphen kingdom dot de. (I trust that's clear enough for everyone to understand what I really mean.) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Outside the window, the clouds are beginning to blush faintly pink. It's almost dawn. Not that you would ever stay awake long enough to watch it. You love your beauty sleep too much, don't you? Yes. I wonder if any of your other lovers has ever told you that you snore when you're splayed out on your back like that. At least you don't steal the blankets the way Anthy does. That's why I always have her on the couch, instead of bringing her to bed. You, on the other hand, would never think of covering yourself that way. You enjoy being on display too much. And why not? You have the face and body of a young god to go with your silver angel's tongue and your black devil's heart. I have taught you well. You have all the mannerisms, the apparent chivalry of a prince, but none of the substance. Not like *her*. She is your complete opposite. She can see right through you, can't she? She has looked past that perfect face and those vibrant blue-violet eyes and that charming, seductive manner, and discovered just how hollow you are. How many years have I laboured to make you what you are? You were just a child when you came to me first, a little boy with blood-red hair and big dreams. Not entirely naive even then, mind you. You knew what you wanted. And then I led you down into the labyrinth, the maze of power, and showed you how to get it . . . Why did you even come here tonight? Do you know yourself? It can't have been for comfort or sympathy. You would have found more of that in the arms of one of those girls who always follow you around, and I think you know it. Did you just need the relief of stripping away a few layers of masks? I suppose we're closer to honest with each other than either of us ever is with anyone else, although in our case, that isn't saying much. You did a beautiful job of manipulating that little minx of a sister of yours. I must admit, I had my doubts when you urged me to bring her into the game, but she's fallen into line quite nicely, exactly as you predicted. I never hoped that you would be capable of such gratuitous cruelty toward someone so close to your heart. You've become a true master betrayer. Did you know that some medieval European religious scholars believed that Judas Iscariot was a red-head? But was it really betrayal? I must admit that I wonder. There has been a hint of rebelliousness in you lately. Could it be that you were trying to push her away, to get her to leave the game? To save her? I've often wondered if that wasn't what you were trying to do with your friend Saionji. Is he your lover, too? You urged his expulsion, then burned the exchange diary that he shared with Anthy . . . oh, yes, I know about that. Did you think that he would get safely away from me if you did that? A shame that you didn't figure out until too late that *you*, not she, were his strongest tie to the game. Not that I would have let you save him in any case. Why should you have a chance to preserve what you love, when I have lost everything? I do remember, you know. Oh, not all of it. Part of my mind shies away from some of the memories. I can't remember what it was that I did to precipitate that illness--I don't even know why I think it was something that I did. But I do remember lying there on the straw, able to hear everything that was happening outside the door of the little shack. I remember her screams . . . Anthy's screams . . . I loved her more than anyone or anything else in the world, but I could not save her. And I don't understand why that was, either. Why could I be everyone else's Prince, but not hers? What cruel god made that decree? Damn them all! That was when I decided that, if I couldn't be her Prince, I wouldn't be anyone's. Those selfish people didn't deserve it. I didn't understand what hatred was until they taught it to me. And so I tumbled from that high place I had lived in all my life, sliding downwards ever faster until I landed in the pit where I now reside. It wasn't until I reached this nadir that I realized what I had lost, and by then, of course, it was too late to recover it. Chicks cannot go back into eggs, and those who have learned to hate cannot return to that state of perfect, infantile innocence that lets miracles happen. *She* still has it. Utena. Eden hasn't yet closed its gates to her. She is everything that I was, everything that I have lost. It almost hurts to look at her. I want her . . . and, at the same time, I hate her for making my shortcomings plain. Were you ever like her? Somehow, I doubt it. Utena reminds me of a good sword. You can put her under pressure and force her to bend to your whims, but she will only bend so far, and always snaps back to her original shape once the pressure is released. And yet, at the same time, she is too strong to break easily. You don't break easily, either, but you've chosen a different strategy to avoid damage to your soul. You've made yourself almost infinitely flexible, like a snake. You bend, you stretch, you sway in every current that comes your way and make yourself a part of it. It is effective enough, in its way, but it lets you be tied into knots, and I have discovered that I'm rather good at macrame. You want to be her Prince, don't you? I cannot begin to tell you how much that amuses me. Perhaps I shall let you have the chance to play the part once again. Be a good little serpent, and pass my apple on to her. Would you like that? Of course, by the time I let you at her, it will already be far, far too late. Tomorrow, she will become absolutely, completely, and irrevocably mine. When are you going to realize how I'm using you, little fool? You make a terrible devil, really. Rebellion is the quintessential demonic act, and you cannot quite bring yourself to oppose me openly. If you want my respect, you will have to stand up to me. But you don't seem to understand that any more than Anthy does. She is meekly obedient; you are slyly so, but it comes to the same thing in the end. Are you waking up? I can see your eyelids flickering. Yes, you're awake. The early morning sunlight is turning your hair a beautiful red-gold, and it feels so soft under my hands. Do you think you could manage to . . . ? Ah, yes. *Yes*. That's the way to go about it. Anthy has never understood this, either. She treats me like spun glass whenever we're together, as though she thinks that rough handling will damage me. She doesn't understand that I want--that I *need*--that I *DESERVE*--to be punished. For what I did to her. Or for what I failed to do. I still cannot remember. *YES!* Oh, that feels so wonderful! You really do have magic hands. All the practice you get from those girls stands you in good stead, it seems. Here, and only here, you are the master, and I am the slave. This isn't like the world outside, is it? You are so beautiful . . . That body of yours is beyond perfect. I know that you fancy yourself an adult, but the truth is that you're frozen right at the edge of manhood. You will never be quite so perfect again. Should I make time stop for you here, as I did for Mikage? I wish I could, but you would have to want it as fiercely as he did, and I know that you don't. Sometimes, for a moment, I can see the hatred shining in your eyes. I don't know of anything else that is half so arousing. It will be even better after I betray you for the last time, won't it? Perhaps then you will finally be able to end this for me. Dying at the advanced age of . . . how old am I, anyway? . . . in bed, with a redhead. I can think of worse ways to go. Come now, my son, my lover, my otherself. Hate me. It's all that I've ever wanted. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- E. Liddell eliddell@puc.net http://ejlddll.virtualave.net --------------------------------------------------------- "One tacky fairytale artefact per expedition is about my limit." --------------------------------------------------------- UtenaCode(1.0) U:6- F:To+++Mk+:pOA D:CC X:*:a39++ M:f"Internal Clock, Municipal Orrery"