=== ...Sunawachi, Kiseki (...That Is, Miracles) A Shoujo Kakumei Utena story by Scott Johnson === My name is Arisugawa Juri, age 16. I attend Ohtori Private Academy, a prestigious school that encompasses all levels of education from kindergarten to university. I am the Student Council representative for the high school first year class, and the undisputed captain of the fencing team. I am respected even among the faculty for my achievements and those of the Council, and yet those who truly know me don't dare get within ten meters of me. I am a solitary individual. I have seen secrets and oddities few will ever see. And I do not believe in miracles. I have seen many things others would call miracles, true. The Castle of Illusion, hanging inverted in the sky above the Arena. The Bride of the Rose releasing the Sword of Dios from her body. A victory turned to defeat by a falling blade, striking perfectly true by sheer luck. Incredible, awe-inspiring sights, all of them. But they are not truly miracles, simply strange, or unlikely, or unexplained. Miracles cannot exist. That only makes me wonder more about that night, though. Others might dismiss it as good fortune, or a miracle, or some other name that really means they don't understand. I, however, cannot dismiss things so lightly. My mind continually strays back to try and glean some small amount of reason from that encounter. Why did I act as I did? Why did they? Why? It was probably the moonlight. Moonlight, they say, affects people in a weird way. Especially on a full moon. So that must be it. She was whining again beside me as we walked back home. I turned to tell her to shut up. Then I stopped. The light from the full moon played on her hair as she also stopped to look at me and continued her nagging. I didn't listen to her, all I could think about was how beautiful she looked in the moonlight. I moved towards her. She waved a hand before my eyes. "Hellooo? Anyone home?" she asked as I moved towards her. Then I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer. "Hey! What are you mmmpphhh!" she said as I kissed her on the mouth. I do believe in love. I was in love once. Perhaps I still am. But my love left me without even knowing how I felt about her. She left me for a boy with a crush on me, which she thought I reciprocated. She actively stole him away, despite how much she thought it would hurt me. Despite the fact that if I could, and if I thought it would make her happy, I would gladly have given him away. If she had but asked. She was my best friend, and more, and together with him we were an inseparable trio -- but such love triangles cannot long survive, I suppose. Perhaps I still love her. Perhaps I hate her for being so blind and selfish. But if I still love any, I love her alone. I know I do not love Tenjou Utena. Why, then? Perhaps it was simply her beauty. The first time I saw her, watching her duel with Miki from the top of one of the towers by the Arena, I was struck by her vitality, her energy. Dressed in a modified boy's uniform, wielding the Sword of Dios as if she were born with it in her hand, she seemed so utterly dazzling, so full of life. Her pink hair flashed in the light as she parried and struck, blue eyes narrowing as she searched for an opening in Miki's defense. And yet even as I admired her through my opera glasses, I was picking out flaws in her technique, inadequacies that could be used to defeat her. Miki was good -- second only to me in the fencing club's rankings. And yet she clearly had him on the defensive. She had defeated Saionji twice, and for all his arrogance and foolishness he was still the captain of the kendo team -- no light distinction at this school. But I could defeat him. I could defeat Miki. And I could most certainly defeat this new girl, this Utena. And yet, when the time came, I lost. How? Utena was the one to break the kiss, backing away from me in surprise as her eyes widened. She seemed... shocked. Uncertain. A bit disgusted? Perhaps not -- perhaps simply uncomfortable. I could hardly blame her -- I was feeling rather off-balance myself. A thousand thoughts were reeling through my mind - my shock at what I'd done, the shame of losing control so, the taste of her lips, the fear of what she must think of me, the stunned and beautiful look on her face, the horrified realization that Anthy was watching us... Utena stepped back slightly, raising her hand to her face as she looked at me with wide, unreadable eyes. "Juri..." she breathed. This must have been so sudden to her -- even more than it had to me. One moment she was berating me for the little prank I had helped play on Nanami (was it my fault the girl was so vain and stupid as to be unable to tell a Sebastian Dior pendant from a cowbell?), and the next... I tried to brace myself for the inevitable explosion. Now she had seen both the sides of me that people feared or scorned -- the cruel, heartless woman who doesn't believe in miracles, and the hopelessly romantic lesbian, heart broken by her first love and never truly healed again. Despite all the rumors about her relationship with Himemiya Anthy, or the hero-worship crushes half the female students her age had on her, she was, in truth, not the type to reciprocate such feelings, or appreciate having them forced upon her. I knew that. I had known that almost since I first met her. Which only left me wondering once again... Perhaps it was simply her personality -- who she was, at heart. When I first met her, in the corridors of Ohtori, the day after her duel with Miki, I was struck with her unique brand of spirit and practicality. She had heard all the rumors (mostly true, I must admit) about my disposition, and yet came to me as a friend, curious to see if I was as bad as my reputation but not letting any prejudgments stand in her way. She was pragmatic and matter-of-fact about the duels, agreeing that fighting for some 'miraculous power' and the virtual ownership of Anthy was a foolish thing. She was practical yet optimistic, fully cognizant of the ways of the world and yet not allowing herself to be beaten by them. In her words, she didn't want to be a princess waiting to be rescued, but rather a prince doing the rescuing. I could most assuredly grow to respect her... and perhaps, just perhaps, there was some small part of me that wondered if that respect could grow into something more. Perhaps it was that small, foolish hope that seized control tonight. But in truth, she hardly lived up to the ideal I thought I saw in her that day. We met by chance that night, in the moonlight -- a full moon then, too -- by the old fountain, a calming and beautiful place with its still, clear waters and old statuary. I had found myself unable to sleep that night -- too many old memories haunted me. She came across me by accident -- it seems Anthy's strange pet had developed indigestion and needed to be walked, or some such folly. We fell to talking of this and that, and at one point I inquired as to why she tended to wear boys' clothing. It was then that I learned just how much she still maintained a childish belief in miracles. She remembered a man -- the proverbial 'prince on a white horse,' no less -- who had comforted her when she was young and in pain, and still dreamed that someday, by some miracle, he would return to her and make her life perfect. Even now, those virtues of hers I had so admired -- her strength, her courage, her kindheartedness -- they were all born not of some inner strength of character, but rather of a pathetic desire to please her prince and mimic the parts of him she was infatuated with. She dressed after his fashion, wore his signet ring -- everything in her life was an imitation of or appeal to her 'prince', some in ways she barely realized. That was when I challenged her. I suppose I felt betrayed in a way, though it was only my own foolish hopes that had betrayed me. But I was furious -- with her, perhaps, or with myself, or simply over the fact that someone with so much obvious talent and potential was crippling herself by putting her faith in the impossible. She devoted so much energy to making herself what her prince would love -- and when her prince never came, she would doubtless pine away, or be crushed all at once as the revelation hit her. All her strength, all her glorious potential -- all would vanish with her childish ideals. Someone had to save her from herself -- to show her how foolish her belief in fantasy was. That was why I challenged her. No, that's not true. It's my rationalization, my self-justification after the fact. All of it is more or less accurate, but I was not thinking like that at the time. I only felt the fury of betrayal, and the desire to break her faith in miracles, to show her the folly of her ways, either to have her cast aside the signet ring her 'beloved' gave her or see her humbled in the Arena as her 'miracles' failed her. I cannot say I am proud of it, but I have learned to live with myself. I am in many ways less than noble, however much I wish I were otherwise. And she beat me. She was not better than me -- far from it. Her attacks were broadly telegraphed; her lunges laughably overextended. I barely needed to move to evade her and send her stumbling and sprawling across the stone floor, over and over again. The barest of simple attacks had her scrambling to dodge my blade. I could have removed her rose at any time, ending the farce, but I must admit I was toying with her... up until the end. Then... I saw her bathed by a bright light, shining down beautifully from the Castle of Illusion far above. I saw her springing into one incredibly fast, perfectly executed lunge, the Sword of Dios streaking unerringly towards the rose at my breast. And I remembered seeing her perform a similar stroke the day before, defeating Miki in his moment of distraction... (No. No, I didn't. I remembered *her*... her final letter to me... 'But I can't regret stealing him from you... because it was what I really wished for, at heart. You must hate me for being like this...' And her favorite phrase, so alien to me -- 'Believe in the miracle that your wish will come true.' And somehow, this time, it filled me with a rage I could not stop...) The Sword of Dios went flying into the air as I parried almost more quickly than I could think, and I caught Utena against me and threw her roughly to the ground, letting her own momentum knock the wind out of her. The tip of my sword was at her throat in a flash. I smiled lightly, calm again, seeing victory was well and truly within my grasp. I could almost taste my triumph, my smug vindication of my earlier harshness. Perhaps I made some light quip about her 'miracles' deserting her; I fail to recall exactly. And then... And then... It wasn't a miracle, that much I can say with certainty. While I sincerely doubt it was pure chance, the Sword of Dios may have odd qualities I know nothing of, or perhaps some form of strange link to Anthy, the Bride of the Rose. Unexplained and fortuitous, yes, even surreal and awe-inspiring - but not a miracle. But the Sword of Dios fell from the arc my parry had thrown it into - - somehow remaining precisely vertical, leading with its point - - and it brushed past my face - - not even trimming a single hair - - and with a whisper - - embedded itself in the stone floor of the arena - - pinning my rose - - pierced through its heart - - without a single petal disturbed - - to the ground. I still can't explain it. I know it wasn't a miracle. But that day, I knew that whatever power had caused that, whatever the great power to revolutionize the world for which we were all fighting was, it was something I desperately wanted. It was something mysterious and amazing, something that I didn't understand. But I had been told it could somehow change the world. I needed desperately to find out the truth of this. If it could not, better that I should have it than someone depending on it, someone who truly believed, who would have their heart crushed. And if it could... Perhaps with it, I could finally bring closure to my troubles, to the things that so plagued my heart - one way or the other. "Juri..." I couldn't bring myself to look at her face. Any moment now would come the fear, or the anger, or the disgust, or whatever form of rejection she chose to display. I had few friends, and Tenjou Utena was certainly not one of them, but we had developed a form of mutual respect, grudging as it was in some regards, and she had come to see me as one of the more bearable among our little circle of Duelists -- not as close a friend as Miki, but more reasonable than Touga or Saionji or (heavens forfend) Nanami. Now... doubtless that was over. Now was the time for rage, or scorn, or... Laughter? I looked at her - somewhat askance, I suppose. She was laughing, half-blushing, rubbing the back of her head self-consciously. This... this wasn't right. *She* was embarrassed? She was taking this so lightly? But... "Jeez, Juri, you caught me off guard there for a moment," she hesitantly grinned. "What the heck was that all about?" She didn't know? Admittedly, *I* didn't know why I had done it, but how could she have avoided jumping to an obvious conclusion? Utena was by no means stupid, despite her lackluster academic standing, and not precisely naive, either. For her to act like this... it was beyond words. For what was perhaps the third time in my life, I found myself utterly speechless. She must have thought she read something in my expression, I suppose, because a look of bemused understanding suddenly came into her eyes. "Jeez, is *that* all?" She turned back to walking down the street, stretching with her hands behind her head. "Honestly, Juri, if you wanted to shut me up, there's easier ways. I mean, I was getting kind of tired anyway." She glanced back at me apologetically. "Sorry for going off on you like that. I guess I've been on edge a bit with all this weirdness, and after everything that happened to Nanami..." She shrugged. "Anyway, I think I'm gonna head for home now. Himemiya, you coming?" "Of course, Utena-sama," Anthy said quietly as she followed along. They were taking it in stride. As if it was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to be concerned with. I could accept them not being too upset, or even just curious, but this... this was... Anthy smiled at me as she walked past. Just her usual pleasant, friendly smile, without even a hint that she'd thought anything about me kissing the girl who was at least her best friend. No surprise, no worry, no irritation, not even the arousal or envy the rumors might lead you to expect. I might as well have been discussing the weather. I watched them walk away into the night, as I stood there, still speechless. I realize that my reaction may seem rather extreme. Perhaps it's simply a sign of how isolated I've been, that simple human kindess can have such a profound effect on me. Perhaps its existence is a sign that the world is not in such dire straits as I might think -- or its scarcity a sign that it is far worse. Perhaps the two of them are simply wiser than I know. Miracles don't exist. That much I can say. We are on our own in this world, and all we have is what we and those around us can do, not the intercessions of some arbitrary divine myth. And yet... sometimes, just sometimes... I think it may be more than enough. -- Scott Johnson | zagyg@io.com | This space intentionally left blank.