"Illusion and Memory" by Miang   (miangrmsus@aol.com)

---

I truly hate to imagine what she must think of me now.

I can only hope and pray within perhaps my final days on this earth
that she uses some of her plentiful intelligence to look past her
feelings and realize what I was trying to do. 

But, still, how unpleasant it is to lie here and know that she might
very well consider me the worst bastard in this world. Oh, how I wish
I could tell her that there are a few people who are far worse than I
could ever be. 

In fact, the brutality I seemed to possess in the final days I would
have the opportunity to see her is not quite my true nature. It was an
uncontrollable instinct brought about by my overwhelming need to help
her. To do that final deed before I could do no more.

And, yes, I simply cannot deny it to myself - it was also brought
about by my need - no, more like my desire - to make her feel some of
my pain. I know, I know, there was no real reason to do that to her.
Certainly the suffering she has endured these past several years over
that girl has been plenty for her. But, nevertheless, I can't say I
dealt all that well with the fact that she didn't know I was going
through the same torture. It burned a hole inside of my heart over
time. And on the day I came back to that surreal world of a school I
simply could not contain the vindictive nature that was taking root
inside of me. 

I'm not an ignorant man. Actually, in my arrogance I find myself to be
quite aware and intelligent. And I know that I am only kidding myself
to believe that she holds anything but contempt for me now. 

But, I can't help but feel that perhaps my goal was achieved. Maybe,
just maybe the cruel man I was for that time has paid off by changing
her life forever. Maybe, finally, she will let go. When she left the
dueling arena I noticed that she also left behind the shattered chains
of gold that she always held closely around her ivory neck. I hope she
can realize now that those golden chains were no better than the
chains one would receive in a prison. They had bound her constantly,
as restrictive as the ever-so tight ringlets in her tangerine colored
hair. 

I can still recall when we used to fence one another by our spot
overlooking the glimmering ocean. We would always meet close to dusk.
The sun would spend its time lazily setting while we practiced and I
helped to unlock the hidden talents for fencing inside of her. Her
hair was long and much straighter back then. There were a few curls
framing her lovely face, but in the back it flowed without bounds. I
didn't know at first that she was carrying around her love for that
petty girl. Perhaps I am too self-assured in assuming this, but I like
to think that when she was with me she could let go of her pain for a
while. I guess that's why I was so convinced that I was the only one
who could truly set her free in the end. 

The time spent by the ocean was the most enjoyable of my
soon-to-be-short life. Some days we hardly spoke a word to one
another, but there was significant communication going on there
nonetheless. I could tell her mood by the way she carried herself, by
the way she swiped her rapier at me, by what emotion she put into her
movements, even by the gleam in her eyes. She is such an emotional
person, but she lets her feelings swirl inside of her like a hurricane
- spinning around and around. I soon realized that the only way to
discover what emotion was at the forefront - or if it happened to be
one of the rare days where she was right in the calm of the storm -
was by looking into her bottomless green eyes. Most people see her and
think that she feels nothing at all, I would assume. They are
intimidated by her aloof manner and calmness. But, she couldn't fool
me. All I had to do was stare into her eyes for a moment and I knew
that she was a woman with a great deal of wildly varying emotions pent
up inside.

As much as I love that she is a silent storm of a woman, I have to
admit that the days spent with her truly at peace were the most
intriguing and fulfilling. It was then, and only then, that she would
open up to me. Looking back, I can see now that her and I developed a
very strong bond. We were close friends for a while there. She
confided in me. I could tell that normally she never confided in
anyone. Sometimes she would talk about her family. One thing everyone
knows about Ohtori Academy is that the students are usually not close
with their families. How else would one deal with living on campus and
never see their own flesh and blood? I heard so many stories of family
problems from fellow students. She was not really an exception to the
rule. Being the real black sheep of her family, she always felt
inadequate. Particularly with her older sister. She even lamented once
that she had not been blessed with the beauty her sister possessed.
She was so normally self-assured that I was rather taken aback by this
comment. I remember that I didn't say much in return. I was quieter
back in those days. More thought than action honestly. But oh how I
wish with every struggling cell in my body that I could go back to
that moment and tell her that she was the most beautiful creature ever
created.

And she is. There's no doubt about that in my mind. If there is some
kind of heaven after I leave this painful existence, I am certain that
no angel could be as exquisite as she. What's so appealing about her
is that she is no demure angel. She is this amazing mix of feminine
and masculine - so gentle and yet so harsh - so soft-spoken and yet so
fierce. I have never met anyone like her. 

And then there's me...I never truly unraveled the mystery of whether
or not she could even be attracted to my kind. But even if she is able
to, I sometimes wonder if she could have ever seen me in that light.
Sometimes while we would be sitting side by side on that bench,
overlooking the ocean, I would catch her studying me. Not her usual
quick glance, or her angry stare downs - but an honest probing look of
feeling and maybe even curiosity. I always felt a comfortable warmth
wash over me when this happened. It was an absolute state of
contentment to be sitting there next to her watching the beauty of
nature, and feeling that she might actually care for me. 

Of course, I never let my weakness for her show. Or rather, I never
allowed her to know that she was what strengthened me. She was a
person who could handle harshness well. While fencing, I would often
call for a strict atmosphere and I think she appreciated that most of
the time because it was the best way for her to learn. And, like I
have already mentioned, we did have our more relaxed moments. 

I do think she felt that we were similar souls. We could be very
reserved and coy when needed, and quite out-spoken when we felt
otherwise. I feel we were both highly intelligent individuals that
didn't handle our emotions well. Afterall, we were both in love but
didn't know how to express it - couldn't find the words or the actions
to relieve our agony. 

Yes, I was - I am - completely in love with her. I don't lie here and
say that with great sentimentality however. It does come out slightly
bitter. Like the taste of unsweetened coffee lingering on my tongue.
I was never a heart-on-my-sleeve kind of person. I am certainly not
shameful of my emotions, but to flaunt them around is to lessen their
importance and meaning. And my feelings for her are more important and
meaningful to me than anything. Back when we used to still spend time
together, before I had to leave Ohtori, I came to a point where I
realized how strongly I felt for her. It came as a surprise how often
I found myself admiring her every move, her every word. At first she
was more like my student, or perhaps a casual friend. But she grew to
be my equal and then the brightest light in my rapidly dimming life.
It didn't take me long after that to also realize she was too trapped
in her own frustrations to ever see me the same way. 

She had mentioned that pitiful little girl to me once or twice.
Perhaps even a time or two more. Usually only when she was in that
more introspective and serene mood of hers that I cherished so much.
But I consider myself quite free of delusions and extremely
perceptive, and I couldn't fool myself - the way she spoke even
briefly of that girl communicated something very clearly to me. It
suddenly all seemed to fit - her boiling and unresolved anger, her
reservations against most socialization, perhaps even her resistance
at first to opening up to me. Somehow, this breath-taking woman - both
down to earth and otherworldly at the same time - was wrapped up in a
severely destructive love for a girl who had brutally betrayed her. A
girl who was too oblivious to see the miracle of her friend's love
even while it was placed right in front of her face.

It was soon after that I found out about my illness. I didn't leave
her on the greatest of terms. Since discovering how deep my feelings
for her went I had become a bit awkward. Either lashing out when I
didn't mean to or being composed, cold, and maybe even a bit snide. My
actions had started to push her away. She would act equally angry or
cold right back to me. Needless to say, I hadn't been looking forward
to telling her I was sick and going away. I gave her little advance
notice, and perhaps she resented me for that. 

When I announced to her that I was not well, she took it as I expected
her to, but certainly not as I hoped. She dealt with it the way she
dealt with most upsetting news - angrily. Her eyes narrowed and I
could swear the green in them darkened and thickened. She didn't say
all that much though. She just shook violently and turned away, unable
to sympathize with me or offer a kind word. She asked simply when I
would be back, and I told her just as simply that I didn't know. We
were both so cowardly. I didn't tell her how I would miss her. And
even as a friend, she couldn't bear to offer her apologies. But I knew
it was terribly unpleasant for her nevertheless. It was just her way
of dealing with things. And then, quite unexpectedly, she turned to me
right as I was thinking about making my exit. I was outright startled
to see one single lonely tear fall from her left eye. She looked right
at me and said that she would pray everyday for my recovery and
return. And that was that. But I have to admit that I secretly
treasured that she cared enough to shed one little tear for me. If I
could go back to that day I would capture that droplet in a box and
keep it forever.

In the end, though it was with no surprise that I found her to be cold
and hostile upon my return to the academy. During my absence I spent
so many hours pondering how to sort through my feelings for her. And
then eventually I schemed on how I could possibly free her from that
girl. That girl who is a rose with nothing but the sharpest of thorns. 

I had returned to Ohtori with a vague plan. My doctor had warned me
against leaving the hospital so I knew I didn't have a great deal of
time to work with. It was not necessarily my original intention to
start a romance with that girl. But it all seemed to fit so perfectly
when I discovered her with her hand covering my name posted on my
locker. And when that sword tumbled out of the locker, my thoughts
sped as fast as lightning through my mind and the plot laid itself out
right before me. How entangled the three of us became. It was like
something out of a horrific soap opera. 

I suppose if I am to be judged after I die, one of the greatest sins I
committed was how cruelly I treated that girl while we were involved.
How she clung to me, attaching herself to me like a baby bird in
desperate need of nourishment. I found myself rather disgusted by her
from the beginning. Normally I would feel a girl like that should be
pitied, for I do think she is beyond much help. But given the
circumstance that I was whole-heartedly in love with a woman who
somehow found it within her to love this simpering little girl..well,
I must say it brought out the worst in me. 

Afterall I came back to Ohtori a dying man. I had absolutely nothing
to lose. And with only one goal in mind, I was prepared to do whatever
it took to break the chains around my love's neck. Even if it meant
crushing the spirit of the baby bird. 

Oh, I am positive that The Ends of the World found it all truly
amusing and worthwhile. In the end, she had to duel again any way one
looks at it. I showed up at exactly the right time. He made no
hesitation in handing me my student council uniform and a shiny new
rose signet. I remember clearly making my entrance at my one and only
student council meeting. The reaction she gave me was enough to remind
me why I love her so. I know without a doubt she was stunned to see me
there, but she showed no outward signs of it and simply refused to
face me. So mature and immature at the same time. I also have to laugh
when I think of how displeased little Nanami was to see me there. I
have been acquaintances with Touga and his sister ever since first
attending Ohtori. I was never actually friends with Touga but I
suppose you could say there was a mutual respect there. His sister, on
the other hand, always seemed to dislike me severely. Always acting in
such childish ways as to call me names or tell the people she likes to
consider her friends what a monster I was. God only knows where it
came from. I think I fancied that she had a little crush on me when I
was younger, but I soon learned that Nanami didn't care much for
anyone besides her oniisama. As for the only other member at that
particular council meeting, I must say I took no issue with the quiet
Miki. He seemed a bit unaware, but intelligent nevertheless. I've been
informed that he's a good friend of hers. Which I must say shocked me
at first. She who has so few friends. But they seem to give one
another their space, so I suppose she appreciates him for that. Anyway
you look at it though, I saw nothing at Ohtori that made me want to
stay there any longer than I had to. Being there is like being under a
spell, even the students look as if they are always dreaming. I
suppose I was to a certain extent while I was there too. 

I was beyond the normal hesitation I would have felt at striking up a
deal with such a man as The Ends of the World. If he can even be
considered a man that is. The trip her and I took in his car that one
night was extremely frightening and exciting at the same time. 

I certainly won't try to fool anyone - I derived a sadistic pleasure
from it all. Sitting in the backseat with that girl. That girl who
meant the world to my love even while she knew that she was entangled
within my arms. While we were captured within one another's embrace
that night I found myself amazed at the fact that this girl honestly
believed that she would receive the power of miracles with me. I
cannot even guess what she would have thought if she had only known my
true motives. 

The impact of the Ends of the World was so immense, so able to bring
out the most vulnerable in a person, that I found myself kissing her
more deeply with every cruel thought I felt toward her. Because I knew
the more she felt for me, the harder she would fall when I dropped her
as carelessly as possible.

From that point on everything seemed to work out, rather unpleasantly
I must admit, but it moved along all the same. My treatment of the
girl caused my love much agony. She even set aside her pride enough to
offer to help her old friend. But, alas, I hear that she was rebuked
harshly for it. Wasn't that enough for her? Why persist in loving
someone so cruel? Most people would have given up. But not her. No, I
don't think she ever gave up on anything as long as I knew her.

So I knew then that there was no way in hell that I could give up on
my mission to save her. Even if it meant making her hate me in the
process. I suppose one would argue that I didn't need to treat her so
poorly in order to get her to duel again. But, I know better than
anyone that she is motivated through anger. It was also how she was
prompted to duel her first time around (or so I've been told at
least). And back when I taught her how to fence, I always knew I would
get the most positive of results if I taunted her with a few light
insults here and there. She would come alive and fence like her life
depended on it, while still maintaining the grace she was so blessed
with.

Perhaps one would argue that kissing her went too far. Certainly I
could have caused (and did cause considering she tried to ram her
fists at me) sufficient rage by insulting that little girl of hers to
her face. Frankly though, at that point I would have not been
satisfied with that. I had spent months in that hospital trying to
convince myself to let go of my feelings for her and my desire to help
her. But my need to see her again won out in the end and I found
myself determined to do some good for her in the process. I came back
to the academy so confident I was outright cocky and seemingly full of
my male arrogance. While feeling like this, I also became intoxicated
with the hypnotic drug that is Ohtori, and I found myself doing things
I never would have imagined. Kissing her was one of those. 

Of course I had daydreamed about it from time to time. But to actually
do it, and by force? Well, that, I guarantee you, was not something I
ever felt was a real possibility. Even though the kiss was a violent
one, as soon as my lips touched hers I felt the taint of the baby
bird's own mouth removed instantaneously. She struggled under my
control. Perhaps I was just too strong for her, but part of me doesn't
believe that entirely. Part of me thinks she could have thrown me off
if every cell in her body was determined to. But she didn't. Maybe I
am delusional to think she was anything but utterly disgusted at my
mouth pressed against hers. Afterall a man on the verge of death will
try to comfort himself with such illusions. I can only assure myself
of one thing. I, without a doubt, have every millisecond of that kiss
documented in my brain with vivid clarity. And I know for a fact that
there was a moment or two before she decided to use her teeth to
remove me, in which she went still and yielded to me. Most likely this
was the couple moments she used to devise a sure-fire plan to get rid
of me, but the memory of those moments is ingrained in my soul for
eternity.

As is the feeling of her face and hair against my hand as I drew the
spirit sword from within her chest. She made no attempt to resist me
then. I was so thankful at that point. Remember that warmth I
mentioned I used to feel when I caught her looking at me while we
relaxed on the bench by the sea? Well, that's the exact same feeling I
felt then as I held her close to me.

Ah, what is happening to me now? Are these silent tears slipping
slowly down my face? How pathetic a man becomes when he lies here in a
hospital bed waiting to die. I've just gotten too sentimental for my
own good, haven't I? My nurses would say I am being too hard on
myself, and that I should listen to my heart and emotions. Well, I
guess that's what I've been doing. It's really all I can do now.

Oh, here are the nurses now to visit me and see how I am doing. They
are so friendly and kind-hearted. Quite intelligent ladies as well. I
have found myself confiding in them these days. They listen wide-eyed
and respectful as I have poured out my worries to them. They claim
that they shall miss me when I am gone, and I actually believe them.
It seems morbid of them to bring up my imminent passing, but I don't
mind. In fact, they are the only ones who have the guts to even
address the topic. 

They warmly chat with me for a little bit and then leave me, turning
out the hideous fluorescent lights as they shut the door. It is time
for sleep, they say. I suppose my body yearns for rest, but my mind is
still too active. Even as my body has grown weak, my hair even losing
its deep shade of royal blue, my thoughts have always stayed
alarmingly agile. I wonder if it's some kind of punishment.
Considering I have done my good deed and have mostly accepted my
current state, couldn't I at least by blessed with serenity of mind? 

Well, in the end I told her not to worry, and I suppose I should heed
my own advice. As we stood there under the drenching rain on that
platform in the sky, it pained me worse than any suffering I had
endured from my illness to know that this was the last time I would be
near her. A part of me wanted to admit my feelings, and say my
goodbyes in a more conventional fashion, but my love for her - no, not
just my love, but the whole mess we had gotten ourselves in - was of
such an unconventional nature that it just didn't seem right. I didn't
feel that a word I could say would have made a difference to her then
as she stood in the rain, feeling the effects of having a neck no
longer held down by her chains. I stood beside her, looking up at the
sky, smelling the soft scent of her hair. It was then that I found
myself without a facade, without any need to hide. But I made no
declaration of love, no admittance of my feelings - just the only
reassurance I knew how to give her. My final words to her were the
most selfless I had ever spoken. So simplistic, but I genuinely meant
them. At that moment all I could think of was that I wanted her to
finally be free. And I realized that she was probably in a state of
shock, so it just seemed natural to let her know everything was going
to be all right. I wanted her to be calm, at peace. I wanted her to
feel like she did back in the days when she was able to open up to me
about herself. I wanted her to know that I did care. Most of all I
just wanted her to be happy. 

Softly, I said, "Juri, don't worry." And then "Don't worry, Juri."

With the memory of those words floating about in my mind, I finally
find myself tired and ready to try a bit of sleep. I think I can allow
myself to believe that she at least doesn't hate me now. And that
maybe she even understands what I was trying to do. 

One last memory plays out in my mind before I allow myself to drift
into slumber. In this memory we are fencing one another at our little
spot by the water. I am in a particularly snappish mood due to an
unusually poor day. She makes a mistake, and misreads one of my moves,
thus losing the match. I accuse her of not knowing me well enough.
Afterall, she should be able to read my movements by now. She stops
and seems to ponder my comment, which surprises me. She then says
calmly, in direct opposition to my foul mood, "Actually Ruka, I
believe out of everyone I know, you are certainly the one I know
best." I suddenly find myself smiling, and then laughing quietly. She
seems pleased with my reaction and smiles back. I know she is right.
She is the only the one who could ever pull me from my unpleasant
moods with a simple comment or look. She did indeed know me better
than anyone.

And so it is with this beautiful memory, one amongst hundreds I hold
of her, that I allow myself some peace. Although I am sure many think
I am a callous and malicious man, I know that she understands me, even
if she isn't always aware of it.

This is why I could never help but love her. A selfish man I always
thought myself to be, but I learned that love is the one force that
makes such a man sacrifice himself for another.

---

Written by Miang, 10/2000. All "Shoujo Kakumei Utena" characters and
creations belong not to me, but to their rightful owners. I tried to
give my interpretation of the character of Ruka, who I feel is often
misunderstood. It is just my opinion though, and I recognize that
others might see him differently. Nevertheless I hoped you enjoyed my
little introspective rambling. I'd love to see any comments or
criticism you might have, feel free to email me. Thanks!