No Pains No Gains - By Harukami

author's notes: Gee, am I going to do a series of Utena fics based around
Malice Mizer songs, or what?  Usual warnings and extreme weirdness factor.

        His bokken swished down as his kendo uniform swirled around him,
brushing the tops of his feet, brief burst of wind pushing against his
chest. "Again."  Swish.  Swish.  Swish.

        He was furious.  He was lost in memories.  They always turned him
furious. Harder.  Faster.  Stronger.  Nobody had any right.  Nobody had
any right to hurt him the way he always was hurting.  He had nothing
without the pain.  But nobody had the right to give it to him.  The pain
was his, nobody else's nobody else's, nobody else had the right to touch
it like that.  He looked for a miracle in her and found nothing there.  
There was nothing there.

        There was never anything there.

        Applause.

        He stopped, instinctually rubbing his hand.  He knew who had to be
there. Damn him.  Them.  That person.  Whoever.

        He turned.

        There was nothing there.

        Touga stepped forward.  His eyes were lowered, his entire stance
submissive.  That was not Touga.  He looked up at Saiounji slowly, hair
falling back from around his face.  Blue eyes gazed at Saiounji emptily,
lips opened slighly in a smile.  It was hollower than even Her, at the
best of times.
        
        Saiounji let out a tiny scream, taking a step back, bokken
clattering to the floor.  "Who..."
        
        Touga collapsed, smiling, falling brokenly like a rag doll.

        "Touga?"  He couldn't help himself.  A step forward.  Another.  
Touched Touga with a foot.  Nothing.  There was nothing there.

        Hands, touching him, a tight tall body pressing against him from
behind, hands finding their way inside his kendo gi.  Touching him.  
Saiounji moaned, both pulling away and pressing tighter against that
person.  It was hard to think.  "Who's there?"
        
        "You know me."
        
        Saiounji couldn't see him.  He looked down at the hands tracing
themselves across his body.  Dark skinned.  Her. No, Him.  They were
making short work of what little self-control he owned.  He hated it.  
From this position he could see Touga, sprawled brokenly on the ground.  
"Stop it."  The words were weak and changed nothing.  Nothing was there.
"What did you do to him?"

        "Nothing."  A tongue traced along Saiounji's ear and he shivered.
"Kyouichi... I have done nothing to him."

        "There's--" Nails scraped along under the gi and Saiounji gasped,
arching, trying to find his sentance.  "There's nothing there."

        "Exactly."  Saiounji's shirt was gone and the hands roamed freely.
"There's nothing there.  Isn't that what you wanted?"

        Saiounji ripped away, falling to his knees beside Touga's crumpled
body. "Fuck you."  He didn't look up at the answering chuckle.  "You know
that's not what I want."

        "Isn't it?  You want to see your traitor as he really is, don't
you?  With the words gone, with the layers of ego gone.  Here he is.  And
there's nothing there."

        He took Touga's chin between his fingers and moved the head so he
could look at his old friend's face.  A smile and empty eyes.  "Is he
dead?"

        "No."  The figure pressed against him from behind again and
Saiounji clamped his teeth shut.  Dark fingers took his chin in their grip
much the same way he'd done Touga's.  "He's not dead.  He's just empty.  
You can't find him there, can you?  The only part of him you recognize is
the part of him that isn't.  To you, there's nothing there.  Why don't you
talk to him?"

        "T...Touga?"  Saiounji's focus was broken, with hands tracing
their way over his body, that voice whispering in his ear.  "Touga, are
you there?"

        The smiling lips parted happily.  "Yes."  The voice was Touga's,
barely, higher than it should have been, too quiet, with no ego.  His eyes
stared past Saiounji's head.  Anger flashed through him as brightly as the
lust did.

        "Damn it, Touga.  Do you see me?"

        "Yes, daddy.  I see you."

        Cold washed over him in shivering waves and he collapsed backwards
into the strong arms holding him.  "What... what was that?"

        A chuckle.  "That was him.  Touga."

        Touga's gaze slid towards them slightly.

        The hands hadn't stopped their circling caresses over Saiounji.  
He had no words.  The person holding him had them.  "Touga, what do you
want?"

        "I want you to fuck me, daddy."

        Saiounji felt sick.  "God.  Stop.  Stop."

        "You don't want me to stop.  Touga, I'm not your daddy."

        "Fuck me."

        "What about him?"

        "Fuck me."

        "SHUT UP!"  Saiounji couldn't rip free from the arms this time,
but he struggled.  "There's more than that to him!  There's more!"

        "He's offering himself to you, Kyouichi.  Don't you want him?"

        "NO!"

        The chuckle became a laugh.  "You're lying.  But you hate him just
as much."

        "Why do you hate me?" Touga asked, hands sliding over his own
body, eyes on Saiounji.  "I've done nothing to you you never deserved.  
Never wanted somewhere."

        His bokken was in his hand and he was free, standing shirtless,
looking down at Touga.  "I hate you.  I hate you.  I hate you!"  The
bokken came down.  Touga cried out.  This time, Saiounji didn't drop his
bokken. Again.  Again.  Harder.  Faster.  Stronger.  "I hate you!  I hate
you!  I hate you!"

        He was crying.  The dark hands took the bokken from him and he
turned, burying his face in that broad, strong, protective chest.  "Oh god
oh god oh god..."

        "Shh, Kyouichi.  I'm here."

        "I didn't mean to hurt him, I swear to god, I didn't mean to hurt
him...oh god oh god..."

        "You didn't do anything to him he didn't deserve.  You know that,
don't you, Kyouichi?"

        Saiounji's hair was being stroked.  It was comforting.  "I deserve
it too, I hate I hate I hate and there's nothing there there's nothing
there..."

        "You're strong, Kyouichi.  Aren't you?"

        "No..."

        "Aren't you?"

        "Yes..."

        "Good."  Strong arms pulled him away from the protective embrace
and turned him to face Touga.  The tall boy was curled on his side,
breathing hard, bruises already rising on pale skin.

        Saiounji wanted, suddenly, desperately, to make everything all
right. "Touga..."

        "Why do you hate me?"  The eyes were empty.  "I never did anything
to you.
 You did everything to yourself."

        Saiounji's hand raised, with nothing in it, and came down across
Touga's cheek.  "I don't mean to hurt you!"  He was crying again.  Touga
sprawled brokenly on the ground and did nothing.  Eventually, a laugh came
from behind Saiounji.

        "You know where to go from here, don't you?"

        Hands, everywhere, and Touga was moaning, Saiounji was moaning,
and it was all tangled and nonsensical and he didn't know who he was and
he didn't know who Touga was and he didn't know if either of them were
more than just hollow, just nothing men who said nothing words and made
nothing sex and the next day they woke up in a nothing room in a nothing
bed with nothing beside them and nothing had ever changed...

        Harder.  Faster.  Stronger.

        There was nothing there.

        Saiounji opened his eyes.  His bokken came down.  He took a step
forward. Again.

        A step sounded behind him and he turned, bokken almost hitting his
visitor in the face, setting his hair swinging.  Touga didn't blink.

        He was a student council member.  There was always that.  He let
his hand holding the bokken fall and rubbed it, remembering.  "Mr.
President."  He looked up and met Touga's eyes.

        "Mr.  Vice President."  Touga was smiling slightly, voice
completely assured and amused, 'holier-than-thou'.

        Saiounji stared into his eyes for a moment longer and then turned
away, feeling ill.

        There had been nothing there.




"Honest, officer, he ran into my fist 28 times!  I don't know how he did
it..." -conversation with one of my sempais overheard at Karate class