Showerbrooding by Jon Carp jcarp@med.unc.edu Since we first met, not an hour has passed that she has not crossed my thoughts. Wake up. Shiori. Fix my hair. Shiori. Go to class. Shiori. Practice. Shiori. Eat lunch. Shiori. Shiori. Shiori. My heart broke whenever I thought of her. I wish that I could phrase that in a less cliched, childish manner, but how else can I put it? She forced herself into me with such fire and intensity, it was difficult to keep from sobbing my way through each day. That is, until six weeks ago. Six weeks ago, when a foolish prince stabbed me through the heart, and a cruel miracle told me everything was going to be okay. Talk with Miki. Shiori. Practice. Shiori. Go bowling. Shiori. She still won't leave me alone, but it's different now. The pain is gone, replaced by a mere itch. Just the memory of torture remains. Is this what it's like to not be in love? I smiled as he sat across from me, and he responded with a friendly, but polite, "Juri-sempai." We ate in silence for a few minutes. He looked oddly nervous, but covered it behind his normal exterior. Probably only someone who knows him well could even tell. "I saw you sparring with Shiori yesterday in practice," I remarked, trying to subtly steer his thoughts away from whatever was bothering him. He nodded. "She really is amazing. She almost beat me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your friend has a talent for it." She really WAS good, and it made me burn with pride to hear him say it out loud. But I couldn't let myself dwell on it. I just nodded, and there was a silence once again. His soft agitation had only increased. "Are you thinking of Himemiya?" I asked softly. He blushed, and nodded. I smiled. "How often do you think of her?" "Only once in a while," he replied. "I hope she's okay out in the real world." "She can take care of herself," I said. "Utena saw to that." He hung his head slightly; obviously he missed them both. "I thought the campus would... feel different without them," he said quietly. "She did revolutionize the world, after all." I smirked cynically. "She was the victor, she put us to shame," I remarked, "and yet we get the glory. I guess that's how it works." As if on cue, Utena's odd, brown-haired friend walked into the cafeteria, followed by her usual entourage. There was the boy with the brown hair (what was his name again?), several faceless, female followers, and a small horde of drooling males. She stopped at our table and grinned at us. "Hi, Juri-sempai, Miki-kun!" she nearly squealed. "I had a small break between basketball practice and drama club, so I decided to get a bite to eat. Hey, do you know about our performance on Friday?" Miki opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "It's going to be SO great. You should come! Student council members get in free, so come by! Oh, and we have a volleyball game on Thursday, you should see us, we're really good since I joined! And on Wednesday..." She continued to babble loudly, until the boy with the brown hair (what WAS his name?) tapped her on the shoulder and told her she only had ten minutes to spare. She shrieked and muttered a hasty goodbye before running off towards the food. Her followers trailed behind her. Miki and I didn't speak for a few moments. Wakaba's exuberance irked me greatly, but I had to admit that her sudden change was nothing short of miraculous. She shone so brightly... Utena must have had something to do with it. And for a brief second, I hated Utena. Such naivete... she had saved Anthy and still had enough left to somehow energize her friend. Such nobility. I relaxed a bit, basking in the comfortable silence between Miki and me. I watched him take a bite of his sandwich and felt myself smile. The silence continued. He broke it slowly, as if afraid. "Juri-sempai?" he murmured uncomfortably, not making eye contact. "Yes?" He continued to look past me. "Something happened today." I frowned, and put my sandwich down. "What?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "I was given this." For a terrifying second I thought it was a letter from the Ends of the World. But then I looked closer at the soft pink stationary and smelled the perfume that had been dabbed on the paper. "Miki-kun," I said, smiling a bit, "it's a love letter." "I know," he said. He looked extremely uncomfortable. "It's from Yomina Oaka." It took me a second to match the name with a face, but only a second. "I know her," I said. "She's on the fencing club." She was my age, and had only joined this year. Very impressive for a novice. Extremely strong; I am far from a weakling, but her thrusts threaten to overpower me. She also seemed to be very intelligent; she never attacks with the same strategy twice. Only Miki, Shiori, and myself could beat her with regularity, and even we had a hard time with it, as these things go. And though I had never really looked at her as anything but an opponent and a student, I had to admit that she was quite beautiful. I smiled slyly. "What are you going to do?" I asked. "I don't know," he replied. He looked absolutely miserable. I wondered briefly, did his indecision stem from fear of what Kozue would think, or was he still clinging to the hope that Himemiya would come back? "Sempai," he said softly, "she gave me the letter... to give to you." Now, to say that I was taken aback is an understatement. My thoughts focused mainly on Miki, for some reason. No wonder he was so hesitant. It must be an intimidating concept to meddle in my personal life. And the implications... He knew. And then came the fleeting image: Oaka, beautiful blue determined eyes as she lowers her mask and raises her sword... Miki knew. Shiori. Oaka's beautiful eyes. Shiori. I reached over and took the letter, holding it tight. I could smell the sweet perfume. I looked straight into Miki's eyes. He looked back, expectantly. "What do you think I should do?" I asked. His mouth fell open in an expression of absolute shock, to my dismay. I nearly cursed. Was I so shut tight that it would be surprising for me to ask my colleague, my friend, for advice? Is that what Shiori did to me? I reached out and put my hand over his in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. He blushed, perhaps embarrassed that he had been so embarrassed. "She is very beautiful," he said. I smiled broadly. "You're right." I glanced at the letter. "Oh, and she has nice handwriting. That's always attractive." He grinned, obviously relieved I hadn't reacted badly. I wondered how much he knew, if he knew about Shiori. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so polite," I joked, deadpan. "I feel like a jack-ass, keeping a secret you already knew." "I'll try to be more rude in your presence, sempai," he replied. "If you want, I'll go practice on Shiori-san." I laughed, and it felt wonderful. So he did know. I stood up and tucked the letter in my pocket. "I have to think about this," I said. "Thank you, Miki." He smiled softly. "You're welcome, Juri-sempai. I will see you at the meeting tonight." "Yes. Till then." "Goodbye." The details of the letter aren't important. It was highly personal, concise, sweet, and even a bit tongue-in- cheek. I read it several times, continually growing in respect for Yomina Oaka. I could remember seeing her many places doing many things: dressing, standing in line, walking on campus, parrying one of my thrusts... but still that one image stood in the front of my mind. Determined blue eyes. Of course she was determined, I thought. If she beat me, I would notice her. I suddenly felt very strange. I didn't like this feeling, whatever it was. I was suddenly reminded of a night so long ago (but NOT that long ago) when I tried to pull the rose signet off Utena's finger. She had been so charming, so innocent... she almost had me believing in miracles. A knock at the door broke my reverie. I put the letter carefully down on my study desk and strode to answer the door. Shiori stood on my doorstep, hands clasped in front of her, a demure smile on her face. Every time I see her, I'm surprised by how small she is... as if she was made to be held and protected. "Hello, Juri-san," she said shyly. My brain was itching frantically. "Shiori. Please come in." I steeled my nerves. We're friends now, nothing but old friends. "Would you like some coffee?" "If you would be so kind, Juri-san." I went into the kitchen to fill a mug, and when I returned she was still standing uncomfortably near the doorway. "Please sit down," I said, handing her the mug. She perched herself lightly on the edge of the chair, ready, it seemed, to jump up and run from the room at any moment. I sat across from her, watching as she brought the mug up to her lips and sipped timidly. "It's good," she said. "You always brewed good coffee." I hadn't ever made her a cup of coffee before in my life. "Thank you." A pause. "So, why did you drop by?" "I... just wanted to see you. I saw you in the cafeteria earlier today, you were talking with Miki-san, right?" I nodded, still curious about her motives. She seemed so nervous. She made brief eye contact over the rim of the mug. "You eat with him often, it seems." I don't know if the malice in her statement was imagined or not. "Yes," I replied. "We... just discuss student council business." She nodded. "I almost beat him yesterday, you know." She sounded like she was cofessing to a crime. "I know, he mentioned it. Congratulations." She nodded again and looked away. "There is a rumor that the council is going to decide their replacements for next year soon." "That's right." She raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "Have you decided who is going to replace you, Juri-san?" I frowned, suspicious. "No, not yet," I answered. She took another sip of coffee, closed her eyes, and sighed. "I'm sorry, that wasn't very tactful. I..." She trailed off, and I noticed a shining tear on her cheek. My heart itched so much I thought it would explode. She opened her eyes again, and appeared to be trying, in vain, to keep from crying. "Juri-san," she whimpered, "do you think I'm special?" I was by her side before I even knew it, wiping the tears off her cheek and whispering comfortingly. She looked up, her eyes were wide and agonized and agonizingly beautiful. "You and Miki and Touga-san are so special," she whined, "and I don't think I can ever be like that." "Yes, you can," I said, without even thinking. "All I want is to be special, like you." She grabbed my hand tightly and gazed into my eyes. "That's all I ever wanted." Her head drooped, my heart ached. "But I messed it up. I'm just small and petty and I'll never be anything else." I moved to embrace her, but she stood up and moved away. "I came here to ask to be your replacement on the student council," she said softly, looking at the wall. "It was stupid, I know. You'd never do that." She looked at me, and I think I saw hatred in her eyes amidst the sorrow. She turned away again, the tears flowing freely now. "I'm sorry, Juri-san. Please don't hold this against me. It was a moment of weakness, nothing else." She walked quickly to the door and left without another word. I noticed that her coffee had spilled all over the rug. Slowly, I went to the kitchen to get the seltzer. I always enjoyed student council meetings. Despite my rigid appearance, I truly appreciated the relaxed atmosphere that Touga provided, and it was always amusing to watch poor Miki struggle against it with his personal formality. Despite that, the encounter with Shiori weighed heavy on my mind as I approached the elevator. I was enraged, absolutely livid. It was nearly uncontrollable; I almost seethed as I stood, waiting for the others to arrive. Miki came first, as I expected. He looked tired, in much lower spirits than that afternoon. Kozue was responsible, I assumed. I do not like Kozue. I prefer not to think of her at all, truthfully. I would not want the line between her and Miki to become blurred in my mind. True, she is cruel to her brother, but more than anything else, her weakness irks me. To be so affected.. ruined, even... by a single event in her childhood... Well, like I said, I prefer not to think of her. Miki and I nodded to each other, and we waited in silence. Touga and Saionji were ten minutes late. They strutted up to the elevator together, all sinewy muscle and sticky hair. Their shirts were undone and exposed their tight torsos. Touga gave me and Miki a semi-serious look. "Are we ready to begin?" Miki clicked his stopwatch and I merely smirked. We stepped into the elevator as a group. I dreaded this meeting. A position on the council is gained through politics far more then merit; even I required Ruka's nomination to be a member. I scowled inwardly as we rode up in silence. I normal adore the quiet, secluded nature of the student council's headquarters, but that night it grated my nerves like never before. I hid it perfectly, but I still yearned to finish this business up quickly. Touga regarded me as we exited the elevator. "Why, Arisugawa, you look troubled." Goddamn him. "Do I?" I replied, not looking at him. "Quite. I wonder if you have had trouble deciding on your replacement." He frowned as we sat around the table. "I've heard rumors that you're considering giving your position to Takatsuki Shiori." I stared Touga down. "That is incorrect," I said simply. Saionji waved his hand through the air dismissively. "It doesn't matter who our replacements are, anyway," he said. "They won't be duelists, and that's all that counts." "Do we know that?" Miki asked meekly. "The chairman..." "They won't be duelists," Touga interrupted with finality. I wondered briefly if he knew for sure, or if he was just defending Saionji. There was a pause. Miki looked at his stopwatch, but did not break the silence by clicking it. Touga leaned back in his chair. "Well, it seems that I am the only one who actually has a replacement in mind already. Besides Miki-san, naturally." Miki's replacement was Nanami, of course. Miki had the least power among us, and it was well known that Touga wanted his sister to be the new secretary. Miki never protested about this. I sometimes wonder about the two of them... but it is none of my business, so I have never asked. Miki slicked his stopwatch. "Who is to be the new president, then?" he asked. Touga grinned. "There is only one person who could properly fill my shoes," he replied. "Saionji Kyouchi." I was surprised by his gall, but not the decision. Miki looked absolutely shocked. "But..." he stuttered for a bit, "the school's regulations clearly state that no one can be on the council two years in a row." Touga smirked. "Due to the misunderstanding earlier this year and the vice-president's expulsion, I have decided to make an exception." "What are you complaining about, anyway?" Saionji asked, not even looking directly at Miki. "You are all but guaranteed to be Arisugawa's vice-president a year from now. We all get our favor where we can." "We do not all relish in it, though," I remarked, looking sideways at Saionji, and then at Touga. Touga laughed. "Please, the duels are over. There's no need for tension between the four of us." I was about to reply, but Saionji spoke before I had a chance to. "Ah, this is tiresome. If there is no further student council business, then let us adjourn." Touga stood up with a flourish. "Agreed. We will settle this tomorrow evening." He waggled his finger at me and Saionji in mock-reproach. "I expect that we will all be ready?" Saionji walked away. "Right, right," he muttered as he stepped into the elevator. Touga followed, and the two of them went down together. I took a breath and let it out slowly. Without a word, Miki handed me a deck of cards, and I began to shuffle. When I returned home that night, there was a message on my answering machine from Shiori, apologizing for her rudeness and arrogance. Her voice was unsteady; she was probably drunk. I'd come to pity Shiori since I stopped loving her, and that hurt. Sighing, I erased her message and unplugged the telephone. Not many people would guess it, but I sleep very little; usually only about three hours a night. The rest of my time is spent training, reading, watching films... even television I consider to be more worthwhile than lying in a bed, doing nothing. This night, however, was different. It was nine o'clock when I changed into my nightgown and began sipping my mint tea, and the first thing I did was go directly to my desk and reread Oaka's letter. I don't know why, but I felt the need to read it again. And again, and again. And eventually I stopped seeing words and paper at all, but rather blue eyes. Determined blue eyes. The next thing I knew, I was groggily picking my head up off the desk. I ached all over, and I noticed, with dismay, that the letter was soaked with some kind of liquid and was illegible. I glanced over at the clock, and it was six a.m. The aching diminished quickly, and for some reason I felt lighter than usual. Even the minute effort of walking became subtly less. Most unusual, however, were my thoughts. Normally in the morning I plan my schedule and perhaps review my curriculum (Shiori), but that day, as I dressed and fixed my hair, I could only seem to focus on one phrase, one idea. "Today is going to be a good day." To my amazement, it WAS. When I arrived at the cafeteria for breakfast, I was surprised to see Wakaba sitting in my usual seat. Across from her was Miki, who looked haggard and exhausted. I could hear her telling him to "cheer up!" all the way across the room. As I neared the table, I realized with some concern that Miki's condition was even worse than I had originally thought. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair mussed, his expression downcast. Wakaba noticed me as I approached. "I'm sorry I took your seat, Juri-sempai," she said, blushing and rising quickly. "I noticed that Miki-kun had the blues, so I came to perk him up." "That's okay," I replied. I was not just being polite. For the first time, I actually enjoyed seeing Wakaba. She was different than Utena, surely, but she had that same spark of life and innocence. Wakaba leaned close to Miki. "You need to tell her!" she hissed, cupping her hand over her mouth in an impotent attempt to keep me from hearing. "You know how rumors spread here; it's better that she hears it from you!" I sat across from Miki and looked him straight in the eye. Wakaba leaned close to me. "Now, sempai, please don't be upset," she said, this time not bothering to cup her hand. We both looked at Miki, who sighed miserably. "It's Kozue," he muttered after a moment. Of course it is, I thought. But how does this involve me? "I... caught her last night. She was... with... another woman." My eyes narrowed. "Juri-sempai," Wakaba said fearfully, "please don't be upset." Miki looked me straight in the eye. "It was Shiori- san." Every single muscle in my body tensed. For a horrible moment, the itching threatened to turn back to pain... but then it subsided. "Juri-sempai..." "I'm not upset, Wakaba-san," I said softly. "When I came upon them, Shiori-san began crying and ran off. Kozue... she just smiled and told me not to worry." I couldn't think of anything to say. I just kept on gazing straight at Miki. I guess I made him nervous, because he quickly looked up, blushing. "I'm not upset because I caught Kozue with a woman, Sempai," he said. "It's... I don't even know why she does this to me." "They are both petty," I said with quiet anger. "Petty little girls." Wakaba laughed nervously. "Now, come on," she said. " I know you're both upset, but don't be mad at them! They may be a little strange, but you want them both to be happy, right? I mean, Kozue-san is your sister, and Shiori-san is your... your friend, right? Being mad won't make them happy." I glared at Wakaba, who just grinned back. God, she even somehow looks like Utena now! The same look in those brown eyes: innocent, yet determined, and strangely beautiful. "What do you think will make them happy, Wakaba?" Miki asked. "I dunno," Wakaba replied. "Love, probably. Orrrrrrrr... friendship. You know, stuff like that." She stood up and winked. "I've got some time before my debate club meeting. I'm going to see if I can find Kozue-san or Shiori-san, and if I do, I'm going to say hello and make friends with them." She paused, and thought for a second. "Unless you REALLY ARE mad at them. Then I'll yell and make a big scene!" "I think we've made enough of a scene right here," I chided, though I wasn't really mad. Wakaba pouted for a moment, then grinned. "Okay, then," she said. "I'll just leave well-enough alone. That's what Utena-sama would have done." It's odd how profound the mention of someone's name can be, even when they didn't affect you directly. I suddenly realized what a great loss Wakaba had experienced. But then, naturally, my mind filled with Shiori again and I couldn't think of anything else. "Thank you, Wakaba-san," Miki said politely. Wakaba grinned back, nodded to me, and left. Every head in the cafeteria (especially those belonging to men) turned to watch as she walked away. When she was gone, they all resumed whispering to each other and stealing glances at our table. I sought Shiori out later that morning. She was hiding in her room, embarrassed, blushing, terrified. When she saw me, she began crying, and walked away from the door without shutting it. I took this as an invitation and went in. "Juri," she whispered. "I... guess you heard. Everyone's talking about me." "I thought you liked it when people talked about you," I replied softly. "Not like this," she hissed. "Not like... not when they say dirty, awful things." That stung, but I held it in. She's so good at accidentally hurting me. "So it's not true?" I asked. "I'm not like that," she whimpered. "Really. I'm not. I... I was drunk, and it was so warm in her arms, Juri. She looks so much like Miki-kun." I didn't say anything. Shiori's voice was empty. "I felt so bad after what I said to you last night. It was so pathetic, I was like a child. I'm so sorry..." she broke into giggles, even as tears rolled down her face. "It's stupid. I'm not sorry when I hurt you, but I am when I make a fool of myself. It's petty and small and stupid. "I just wanted to run away. From you. It's so hard, Juri, you don't understand, you DON'T understand. It's so hard to not be special. But... I found her, and she understands! And she... "She told me I was beautiful, and she had her hands around my neck, and she told me... she told me to imagine that she... was you. That her voice was your voice, that her breasts were yours... "And she had her hands around my neck, and she told me to call your name, louder and louder... Juri, really, I'm not like that! Really! "And I was so afraid that you would hear me. But you didn't. Miki-san heard me. I guess... she knew he was there." She was fully sobbing now. "I'm not like that, Juri, I'm not! But she had her hands around my neck and... Juri, I just wanted to be beautiful, I wanted..." I wrapped my arms around her and she sobbed against my chest like a child, like a strong, beautiful, special child. She calmed down after fifteen minutes or so. "Juri," she mumbled, "why? Why're you here?" I didn't have an answer, so I just stroked her hair over and over, her soft, beautiful, perfect hair. Maybe someday a poet will love her and describe her beauty with wonderful, artistic words. I hope so. She moaned softly and closed her eyes. "I lied before," she murmured. "When she s'd she was you, had my hands 'round her neck, too." And then she fell asleep. "You really hurt her. She's fragile now, even more than before." A pause as chapped lips are licked. "You goddamned bastard." Ruka could not answer me. Neither could his tombstone. I truly hate Ruka, I think. I still don't know why I keep his grave stocked with fresh, blue roses. Sweet laughter bubbled up from behind me. I whirled to see the one person I least wanted to see, want EVER to see. "Don't worry, Juri-sempai," Kozue said, walking up to Ruka's grave, uncomfortably close to me. "I won't tell anyone you talk to yourself." "What are you doing here, Kozue?" I near-growled. Looking back, I should not have allowed myself to get so angry. She is adept at manipulating people. "Merely visiting my departed classmate," she answered calmly. "You know, his hospital room was so white... sterile." She looked at me as I (stupidly) gazed back in shock. "Sterile, but not pure." I did not, could not reply. "White like Utena's rose," she mused after a pause, turning her eyes back to his headstone. I quickly regained my composure and fixed her with an icy glare. "I don't care what you did with Ruka or anyone else," I whispered, "but stay away from Shiori." She laughed again, and there was something there that almost frightened me. "She's a complex person. I can see what entices you." I swear, only her resemblance to Miki stopped me from physically attacking her. "It's so funny," she continued, "Last night, as I looked at her, I could almost see myself staring back." She moved her eyes up my body to my face. "It was either me or Miki, I couldn't tell. We look so alike." "I don't care," I said simply. "Matters between you and Miki are none of my business. But Shiori..." "That's right, Miki is my business," she interrupted (interrupted *ME*). There was a touch of madness in her voice and I suddenly knew why people could fear her so. "He will never be your business." Even now, I can't think of a decent reply to that. Nothing would have convinced her of the truth. But deep down I knew she was afraid of me, and silence was my friend. Unfortunately, it was broken almost immediately by a cellular telephone's beep. Kozue reached into her purse and pulled out the device, never taking her eyes off Ruka's grave. She opened it and held it to her ear. "Hello?" Oh, she smiled a wicked smile that was obviously for my benefit. She looked like a cat about to eat a baby bird. "Well, speak of the devil." I ignored her and walked to the tombstone. I bent down and took the now-wilted bouquet I had left the week before. The dark roses were still beautiful, but no longer strong or fragrant. "I think that's a good idea," Kozue was saying. "I'll see you then." A beep and the phone was back in her purse. She still wasn't looking directly at me. "She wants to talk about what happened," she announced. "And also about other things." I did not reply, but this time it was a willful protest. Kozue looked sideways at me. "Don't worry about her," she said quietly. "My word means nothing, but I give you my word I'll never hurt her. She's so innocent and weak... I'm not going to do anything but save her." I glared. It was deep and menacing and I could tell she was frightened. Smiling, she indicated the grave with a nod of her head. "Poor, poor boy," she murmured. "I wonder if he did any of the things he said he wanted to do to you." The world flashed white. I stood and moved to slap her, but she was already walking quickly away. As I walked back to campus, I cursed my circumstances. I had been experiencing possibly the worst day of my entire life, and it was hard to shake the feeling that I only had myself to blame for it. After all, if only I'd put a stop to the rumors about me and Miki, if only I'd been able to talk to Shiori, if only I'd handled the situation with Kozue better, if only I still loved Shiori... I must have made a terrifying sight, walking across the campus, brooding like that. People stopped and stared, wondering who was going to bear the brunt of my rage. I glanced at groups of them as I passed, scowling, when I suddenly saw a pair of piercing blue eyes. She was probably on her way to class, and I was obviously in no mood to talk, but our gazes met for more than a second. In that second, something melted inside me. I must have done something right, because she smiled at me and went on her way. Her gossiping friends didn't even seem to notice anything had happened, but somehow we both knew we'd affected the other. The next thing I knew, someone was softly clearing their throat behind me. I turned and saw Tsuwabuki Mitsuru approaching, clipboard in hand. "Excuse me, Arisugawa- sempai," he said, bowing his head. "Miki-san asked me to tell you that he is not going to be able to attend fencing practice this afternoon." I frowned. "Did he say why?" "He said it was personal, and that he hopes you understand." "I do. Thank you, Mitsuru-kun." I nodded politely and expected that to be the end of the conversation. However, he did not walk away. "Arisugawa-sempai... may I ask, have you heard the most recent rumors about Kozue-san?" "No, I haven't," I answered. "And I don't care. Excuse me, Mitsuru-kun." I turned to walk away. "Wait," he called timidly. I stopped without really knowing why. "Please," he said, "she may seem strange, but she has a good heart. She doesn't really want to hurt anybody." "I don't have any feelings about her one way or the other," I replied curtly. "Yes, but something's happened," he said earnestly. "This morning, she told me to contact all the boys she'd been dating and... break up with them for her. She said she doesn't care about the men of Ohtori anymore, not since last night." I didn't say anything. "I tried to talk to her, to convince her, but Miki- san came and asked me to leave. He gave me that message for you. And... I have something I need to tell you, too." I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" "I don't know what's happened, but I know you're mad at her. And Arisugawa-sempai," (at this point he looked straight into my eyes; he was almost shaking) "I won't let you hurt her." I almost burst out laughing, but he was just too serious. "I swear," he continued, "i-if you touch her, I'll make you pay." "What will you do?" I asked, hardly able to keep a grin off my face. "I don't know, but I'll make you pay. And, and Takatsuki-sempai, too, if she has anything to do it. I swear." It was no longer funny. "She has a good heart," he said again. I regarded him seriously, my fists clenched by my sides. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about," I said quietly, taking a step closer to him. "Now, have you finished your business with me?" He gulped audibly and nodded. "Remember," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezing it tightly, "Takatsuki-san has a good heart too." "I'll remember that," he replied, his face white as a sheet. "Just... remember what I said." I smiled, and let go of his shoulder. He turned and walked briskly away. Fencing practice came next, and I was a demon. I don't believe it took me more than a single lunge to score a point on anyone that afternoon. I was unforgiving; I yelled at every tiny mistake they made, shaming them for losing so quickly. Had Miki been there, he'd have had positive things to say about everyone's performance. Had Shiori been there, she'd have smiled at me and I'd stop being quite so angry. As it was... well, let's just say I caused a few tears that day. When Oaka lost, she simply listened to my shouted advice and returned to her place in line. I was suddenly embarrassed, but I didn't let it show. After practice, I requested she stay for a moment longer, under the pretence of haranguing her further on the minutia of her defensive stance. Her friends looked simultaneously sympathetic and envious as they filed out. I suppose she'd mentioned the letter to them. I regarded her carefully as I told her which muscles to tense, which foot to keep her weight on, and so on. She was significantly shorter than me, about Nanami's size, but she was very muscular and had clear, focused eyes. She did not have the build of a fencer at all. It was surprising she was as good as she was. I couldn't help thinking what a better match she would make with Miki. "I received your letter," I said out of the blue. She blushed and stammered something apologetic. I smiled despite myself. "I think it was very sweet," I said. "No one's ever had the courage or inclination to give me one, before." That was actually true at the time. She turned bright red. Now I was sure she'd make a better match for Miki. "I have a student council meeting in a few minutes, but I would like to get to know you better." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "Would you meet me back here at eight o'clock?" Her face lit up and she agreed enthusiastically. It was cute; I chuckled. She gathered her things and left quickly, and for some reason I felt much, much better than I had before practice. "I can't believe I just did that," I muttered to myself. I had a few minutes before the meeting, so I returned to my dorm room and immediately headed to the bathroom to shower. I love showers. When I was a child, I remember reading in some storybook about a character who was perpetually rained upon. He had a small thundercloud hovering a few meters over his head at all times, and even though everyone else was walking around in sunshine, he was eternally soaked and dreary. I loved that character. Storybooks never appealed to me; I appreciate realism instead of childish fantasy, but for some reason he captured my imagination. As I recall, I spent several days searching for my raincloud. I'm a bit embarrassed about that now, but I was a child and didn't know better. Even today, I often stand in the shower, close my eyes, and pretend I have a raincloud. It's so much harder to think about things in the sunshine. Anyway, as I shampooed my hair, I couldn't help reflecting on what I had just done. I had set up a date. A date. With a GIRL. Who wasn't Shiori. I had no delusions about the situation; I know what happens. A girl sees someone like me, strong and beautiful, and respects her on an objective level, and sometimes that respect grows into something more. It's selfish, too; Oaka wanted to be LIKE me, not WITH me. She thought my affection could make her strong. That's ridiculous, I thought with scorn and more than a little anger. Love can't make you strong. I remembered how people used to talk about Utena. She was as popular at Ohtori as any handsome man, but her admirers could barely even remember her name after she left. These things are fleeting and artificial. Not love. There was another issue... my sexuality... that I really did not want to address. Yes, I had strong feelings for Shiori, and yes, Shiori is a woman, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I really don't like thinking about this. Not because I'm ashamed or embarrassed, but because it makes me feel like such a damn TEENAGER. Though, I guess if Utena taught me anything, it's that I'm not as grown up as I like to think I am. Utena... I wonder what my feelings for her really were. And I wonder what they would have been if I'd met her later, when my heart merely itched. I dried myself and redressed quickly. I had business to consider now. The meeting was in half an hour, and I still hadn't decided on a replacement. It didn't really matter, since I knew Saionji just didn't care enough to choose a new vice-president. Still, there were precious few alternatives. I was putting on my uniform when I heard a knock on the door. Buttoning up only high enough to be decent, I went and opened it. Ohtori Akio stood there. I nearly shut the door in his face, but the expression he wore... he didn't look like the Ends of the World at all. I hadn't seen him since Utena left. I had heard that he simply wasn't the same man he'd been before; not nearly as charming, not nearly as cunning. Most of the students thought it was such a shame, but they'd never ridden in his car. "Arisugawa-san," he said politely, and he looked... sad. "Excuse me for interrupting you. May I come in?" I simply glared at him. He laughed quietly, regretfully. "Don't worry. I don't bring news of duels or roses, just boring, mundane academy business." I kept glaring. His eyes were empty. "Fine, if you insist, I'll just stay out here." "What do you want, Chairman." He was much less attractive than he used to be. He must have lost something very important, or he was trying to gain my sympathy. Either way, I wanted him gone. "I saw you in the graveyard earlier. I would have spoken to you then, but you looked to be... occupied." "What were you doing spying on me?" I asked harshly. He smiled fakely. "Don't worry, Arisugawa-san, it was a coincidence. I was paying my respects to a young man I used to know." "Please get to the point, Mr. Chairman. I don't want to be late to my student council meeting." "Yes, of course." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper, folded in half. "Please give this to Kiryuu-san," he said, holding it out to me. "It's an official order from the chairman to the president in regards to next year's student council. I tried to tell him face to face, but he wanted nothing to do with me." I snatched the note away. "I'm not surprised," I growled. He sighed. "I've never understood it, Arisugawa- san," he said. "What have I done to wrong you so?" "You used us," I replied, and that was answer enough. He closed his eyes and suddenly was beautiful again. Anger spread across his face like a war, and he looked just as he did while riding on the hood of his car. I could feel Ruka's hands. "How childish," he muttered. "None of you understand." He looked up, and was haggard again. "I freed you from hopelessness, Arisugawa. Did you think it was an accident, the way it all fit together?" I was so taken aback I could barely speak. "Utena..." (Utena... it's what I whispered when I had really felt those hands moving on my body, the scrape of fabric on the leather seats and the whirring wind deafening... he hadn't heard and for a while I forgot I even said it) "Utena was a fool," he interrupted coldly. "Too stupid to accept my help. She was just another point of view, just another duelist. Don't credit false princes for your transformation." He looked very old all of a sudden. "I helped Kiryuu understand himself, I showed his sister and Kaoru how to grow up, I allowed Saionji to learn self-respect. NONE of that would have happened without me, do you understand? No matter how twisted I become, I am still a prince." He sighed again and for a second I thought I saw a tear flash in his cheek, but it was just a trick of the light. "I always do good, and when I do wrong I make up for it. Please give that note to the president." And then he was gone. I don't know why, but my anger was gone with him. It was as if something had just snatched it away. I unfolded the note. There, in the End of the World's impeccable handwriting, read, "The new vice- president will be Shinohara Wakaba." I had to make a stop before the meeting. I still don't really know why, but something compelled me, told me things would never be okay if I didn't go. I stood in front of Shiori's door for over a full minute before knocking. I think I was trying to convince myself to be nervous, but it wasn't working. The door opened, and a beautiful young woman stood there in front of me, dressed in loose-fitting clothes that suited her perfectly. She seemed... taller. Too large to comfortably fit in my arms. "Juri-san..." Shiori whispered, looking horrified. "I..." "Good evening, Shiori-san," I interrupted, nodding politely. "I'm sorry to just drop by like this. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." As if in reply, a slender arm snaked around her shoulder and pulled her close, in a tight embrace. Kozue stood behind her, eyes cold. She didn't say anything. "Eh... Juri-san..." Shiori stammered. "We..." "I think she can figure out for herself what we were doing," Kozue interrupted. Her voice was a deep, seductive growl. "I apologize," I said, and I think I meant it. I think. They were pressed so close together, like one person made up of two, a person I somehow both admired and despised. "However, I am just on my way to a meeting, and I need to speak with Shiori in private for a moment." Kozue's eyes narrowed as she nuzzled Shiori's neck. "Anything you have to say to her you can say in front of me. We understand each other, isn't that right, Shiori- chan?" "Y-yes," Shiori said, "but... it's okay." She dislodged herself from Kozue's grip and looked at her tenderly. "It'll only take a second." Kozue glared at her, then at me, then back at her, and eventually stepped back into the flat and shut the door. Shiori was white as a sheet, but she forced herself to smile for me. "We weren't doing anything, Juri-san. We were just talking. She likes to show off for people. But, we decided, if she doesn't care what Miki thinks, I shouldn't care what you think so much." "That might be good," I said. Shiori giggled. "I'm sorry about how I acted earlier. I... I don't remember exactly what I said, but it must have been awful. We talked about that, too. She really does understand me, Juri-san. We have something in common... something deep I don't really understand. She..." "It's okay, Shiori," I interrupted. "You don't have to justify anything to me. I'm not here because of her." Shiori blinked. "But, I thought..." "You weren't at fencing practice today." She looked confused and squinted at me. "Y-yes, I was here, with Kozue." I held my head high and regarded her like a stone goddess protecting a village. "How do you expect your skills to improve if you don't even come to practice?" She somehow went even whiter. "Are you serious about fencing?" She hung her head. "I am," she admitted eventually. "I started because of something Ruka said... he told me I wasn't strong enough to help him win the power of miracles." That cruel bastard. "When did he say that?" "In the dueling arena, right before he dumped me. I was so confused; I never knew what was going on. After all that, joining the club just felt right. I wanted to be stronger than him, and I wanted to be friends with you again, but... it's just stupid, isn't it? I hurt you so many times, I even made you fall in..." She caught herself just in time. Her mouth hung open as she stared at me in horror. She probably thought I was going to throttle her or have her expelled or something. "Shiori," I said, "You've been fencing for about a month. In that time, you have shown more raw talent than I have ever seen. With practice and hard work, you could easily become the best fencer in the club, and that includes Miki and myself." She closed her mouth. "I would like to teach you all I know. I want to see you excel." "But... but that won't happen," she whispered. "I could never be that good." "I can defeat most of the experienced students faster than I can beat you. Did you think I was going easier on you?" She looked away, and it was obvious that was exactly what she'd thought. "No," she said, "Of course not." I wanted to just kick the wall, but for some reason I was oddly serene. I took her hand and made her look at me, into my eyes. She was desperately beautiful. "Shiori, I need to know. I know you can do it, but you have to believe in yourself for anything to happen." She blushed and looked away. "I want to believe. But it's not as simple as you think, Juri. It's all so easy for you, but for me it'd take a miracle or something." I smiled. "Then you'd better believe in the power of miracles." She looked at me blankly for a second, then slowly, very slowly, she smiled too. I remembered that smile, it was the one she'd always have when we were children and she'd just beaten me in some game. Gods above, I love that smile. "Thanks, Juri," she murmured. And then she hugged me, just like she had always done in the old days, and I couldn't help it; all I could think of for a moment was that first night when I lay awake in my bed and suddenly became aware of how often I thought of her, how precious every touch was, how badly I wanted her in my arms... She broke away suddenly. "I... I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice absolutely hollow from guilt. "I didn't think..." "It's okay," I said softly, and it really was. The moment was horrible but brief and difficult to even remember a second later. "Things may be a bit awkward, Shiori, but I'll manage. All I want is for you to believe in yourself." She smiled wearily, and it was a new smile for her. She hadn't had it when we were children. "You know, Kozue- chan said almost exactly the same thing tonight." "Did she?" I forced myself to not growl. "Yes, she said she and I were like those birds she keeps. They don't have any parents to teach them to fly, but they know how. They just needed someone to prod them hard enough. She said they did it for each other, and we could too." "I think you can," I said softly. Shiori grinned. "I'd better get back inside; she's probably listening at the door with a glass or something." She looked up at me, raising an eyebrow. "You don't like her very much, do you? I mean, aside from... before all this happened, I mean." "It doesn't matter what I think of her," I replied. "I just hope you won't spend time strangling each other anymore." Suddenly, the door opened. Kozue stood there, an empty drinking glass in her hand. "We were both very upset last night, Arisugawa-sempai. She won't be calling your name out loud anymore, either." I really should have been upset or angry or at least insulted, but I couldn't muster it. Things were just... okay. "I apologize for the misunderstanding earlier today," I said, very slightly bowing to Kozue. "I acted inexcusably." For a quick second she looked surprised, but then just sneered. "Oh, me too. That reminds me, aren't you late for your student council meeting? Poor Miki will be waiting all alone with no one to keep him company." "Kozue-chan..." Shiori murmured. "We talked about this." Kozue smirked. She interlocked her arm with Shiori's and kept staring at me. "You're white as a sheet, Juri- sempai," she said. "Is something upsetting you?" "Kozue-chan, please don't do this," Shiori nearly snapped. "I told you before, there's nothing to be jealous of. She's just my friend." "And your fencing instructor," I reminded her. Kozue's eyes narrowed. "Don't be arrogant, Juri- sempai," she said. "She's a much better person than you give her credit for." I gave an ironic little half-smile, something I never used to do as a child. "Yes, she is." Shiori blushed, but remained silent. "Well, I don't want to use up any more of your time," I said. "Please excuse me." "Thanks again, Juri-san." Shiori looked so comfortable in Kozue's arms. She looked like she fit perfectly. "I'll see you at practice tomorrow." "I look forward to it." She looked happy, she really did. "Goodbye Shiori-san, Kozue-san." I think they stayed there in the doorway watching me walk all the way down the hall, but I can't be sure because I didn't turn around to look back. I was extremely late for the council meeting, a fact that would have embarrassed me had I the capacity for embarrassment. I had never been late before. As I approached the elevator, I saw a figure leaning against the wall, studying the sky with bemusement. I knew who it was immediately. Only Touga can turn an everyday stance into an alluring pose. Only he can make boredom seem erotic. I couldn't see his features as I approached. His body was bathed in red light, the same color as his hair, and he almost didn't look real at all. "You're late," he said amicably, still gazing up at the sky. "I had business to take care of," I said formally. "I apologize." "That's all right, it gave me the opportunity to watch the sun set. It's beautiful." "I suppose it is," I replied after a moment. "Are the others already up?" He turned to look at me for the first time. He was grinning. "No, the meeting was canceled. Kyouchi never showed up, and Miki-san didn't seem to have his heart in it tonight." I nodded silently. "He'll be all right in a few days," I said eventually. It really was a gorgeous sunset. "Probably. My sister... excuse me, Nanami-san... walked him home." I raised an eyebrow, invisible in the now-orange light. "Nanami-san?" "Yes," he replied, as uncomfortably as possible without actually being uncomfortable. "She insists that I call her that now." I didn't reply. What could I say? Fortunately, he spoke again before the silence became awkward. "And I stayed behind to wait for you. I still do need to hear the name of your replacement for next year." "Has Saionji chosen his?" "No. But I'll beat it out of him later." Touga grinned. I chose to ignore any hidden implications of that statement and just assume he was kidding. "You don't have to," I said. "I spoke to the chairman today." Touga's grin vanished, and his body tensed noticeably. For a moment I thought he was going to strike me, but I didn't flinch. "I can't understand it," he growled, both fists balled in rage. "It's not enough for him to mock me, he has to do the same to you. What did he say? Did he try to convince you he was only doing good all along? Did he say that what happened to her was all her own fault?" I simply reached into my pocket and removed the slip of paper. It glowed in the sunlight. "He gave me this. It's a message for you." "I don't want anything to do with that," Touga spat. "Not if it came from him." "I wouldn't have brought this to you if it mocked you," I said angrily, thrusting the paper at him like a dagger. "That's why he gave it to me." Touga paused a moment, and then snatched the paper violently from my hand. Growling, he unfolded it and read the words... and his features softened, like a wilting flower. "Her friend," he murmured plainly. He turned away and I think he wiped a tear away from his face, but it was hidden by his radiating hair. After a moment he turned back and he was tucking the paper lovingly in his breast pocket and he looked different than I'd ever seen him before. Calm. Not languid... calm. "I respect Shinohara-san," he remarked softly. "She stands up for her friends. Not all of us are strong enough to do that." I didn't say anything. I hadn't known that he was in love with Utena. Touga chuckled softly and leaned back against the wall. "This is turning out to be a very interesting collection of people." He fixed me with his gaze, but there was nothing malicious, or seductive, about it. "Well, what about you, Arisugawa? Who do you want to send into the arena?" I leaned against the wall too, and looked out at the sky. I knew exactly what name to say, what name I HAD to say... but actually saying it was a different matter. "We both know who it is," Touga said flippantly. "You don't have to say it out loud if you don't want to." I turned and glared at him. He looked back with an expression I couldn't quite read. "I apologize if this is still a sore topic for you," he said, "but I remember last year. Ruka was just as tongue-tied when he had to say your name." I don't really know if I was angry or heart-broken or ecstatic, but some strong emotion ran through my body right then and I opened my mouth and I said it: "Takatsuki Shiori." Touga smiled. "I'm glad," he said, turning to look back at the sky. "She'll do well on the council." We stood there in silence a few more moments as the last rays of sunlight slowly disappeared from the wall. Eventually, I pushed away from the wall and looked sideways him. "Well, I guess we finished our business," I said. Touga looked back. "I suppose we have." I started to walk away, but he called after me. "Arisugawa." I turned back. "Yes?" "Before I graduate, we must have a match." I found myself smiling. "Very well. Fencing or kendo?" "Neither. A duel." "I look forward to it, Kiryuu." And then I walked away from him. A few steps away I turned to look back, and he was still leaning against the wall looking up at the sky as the few brightest stars began to appear. It was fully dark when I left my room and began the long and arduous journey across campus to the fencing hall. I knew she would probably be surprised when I arrived. She had most likely thought I was just making fun of her, or I had decided during the day that she wasn't worth my time. It's sad; why do only the wrong people hate themselves? I walked slowly to give myself time to think. That old question weighed so heavy on my mind it almost hurt; what the hell *WAS* I? I had to decide before my rendezvous, obviously, but no answer seemed to be in sight. I did know one thing: despite being surrounded by Miki and Touga and all the rest, I had never, ever had romantic or sexual thoughts about any man. Ever. Even when Ruka and I were in the car, I just closed my eyes and thought about Utena and it's like it never happened. On the other hand, Utena had quite a bit of Shiori in her, and Ruka didn't have any. I could never hate Shiori, but I almost did right then, for making me so confused. I despise not understanding things. If it hadn't been for her, I'd have known for years now already, I'd be able to live like a normal human being. I quickly regretted those thoughts. Self-pity is just as childish as being confused. I thought I'd outgrown them both. I was quickly deciding that this whole thing was more trouble than it was worth. I was just about to turn around and go home... But just then I saw a beautiful young woman walk out of the darkness towards me, and as I looked at her, I knew. I can't explain why, but for some reason when I caught sight of those sparkling brown eyes, I just KNEW. "Hiii, Juri-sempai!" "Good evening, Wakaba-san." I want to make it clear that I did not have any romantic feelings for Wakaba that night. There was just something about her life, her openness. I finally understood. "You look nice," she was saying, "where are you headed?" "Oh, I'm just meeting a friend of mine. What about you?" "I've got rehearsal. For some reason, the other members of the club always..." she trailed off, and sniffed the air. Then she looked at me with a mischievous grin. "You're wearing perfume, aren't you?" She was probably expecting me to blush, but I did not. "Yes, I am." She raised an eyebrow. "And who is this 'friend' of yours?" "That's none of your business," I replied, though I wasn't mad and couldn't make myself sound like I was. "Humph." She pouted for a second, then grinned again. "Miki-san..." "It's not Miki-san!" I snapped, my cheeks very slightly reddening. I sighed. "I really need to put a stop to that rumor." Wakaba giggled. "I'm sorry, Juri-sempai. I know how it feels for that kind of rumor to spread about you." I smiled. For some reason I wasn't upset about losing my composure in front of someone. "Utena, I suppose." She nodded. "I hate how people always jump to that," she said sadly. "We were just best friends. There was never anything more going on." Inwardly, I winced. It was obviously a sore topic for her, and I was sorry for bringing it up. "It's very frustrating," I said simply, hoping to steer the conversation back to my problems. "Besides," she continued as if she hadn't heard me, "even if we were... you know... gay... she wouldn't have wanted to be with ME. She would have been with Himemiya- san or you or somebody. Not me." She sounded like her heart was breaking, and truthfully, I had no clue what to say. In half a second, though, she laughed nervously. "Sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I? I didn't mean to, I just still miss her." "That's okay," I replied, smiling wistfully. "We all still miss her. We talk about her in student council meetings sometimes, wonder where she is, what exactly happened to her." Wakaba's face lit up like a tiny little sun. "I know where she went!" she near-squealed, hugging herself. "She told me before she left!" I blinked. "She did?" "Yep!" Wakaba leaned close with mock secrecy. "Now, Juri-sempai, I'm going to tell you a BIG SECRET, okay? Promise you won't tell a soul!" "I promise," I replied, smiling. "Okay. This happened the very day she left. I found that out later. That's what makes this story so creepy! "I was looking around campus for her. I don't remember why; I think I wanted to study math or something. I hadn't seen her in a long time, what with all the time she'd been spending with the chairman and Himemiya-san, and doing... whatever it was she'd do with the council. I really just wanted to be around her, y'know, just spend time with her." "I understand. What happened?" Wakaba looked for all the world like she was ten years old. "Well, I was looking and looking and I couldn't find her. I just decided she was spending time with Himemia-san or something, and so I gave up. But as soon as I did... there she was, standing in the middle of the hallway, looking at me. I ran up to her and said where were you, but she wouldn't say anything! Even when I asked her if she wanted to study math, she wouldn't speak. And I got mad and yelled something, and she..." Wakaba trailed off. He face was bright red all of a sudden. "What happened, Wakaba-san?" I prompted. Her blush deepened. "Um, nothing, never mind. Eventually, she told me she had to leave. I said okay, we'll study later, but then she said, no, I have to leave FOREVER. "I didn't understand, I asked her why. I was really upset, Juri-sempai, but now I realize that Utena-sama wouldn't do ANYTHING without a good reason. If she had to leave, then I know it was to help people or make people happy or something like that." "Maybe she was forced to leave," I remarked, almost to myself. "Nuh-uh, she's too strong for that!" Wakaba protested. "I KNOW she went to help people. I asked if I could come with her, and she said my place was here for now. I was squeezing her and sobbing... I'm surprised we didn't collect a crowd, but there wasn't anyone around for some reason. "I asked her if we would ever see each other again, and she said yes. I asked her if she was sure, and she said yes again. Then I asked if she was absolutely positively sure, and she laughed. She said, 'I promise, Wakaba-chan, in eleven years we'll be drinking tea together." "Why eleven years?" "I don't know, but it made me feel wonderful! But I still didn't want to let her go. I squeezed her tighter, even though she kept saying she had to leave. Eventually I let go and she started walking away, but I called after her, 'Wait, you left out one thing! WHERE will we drink tea?' And she turned around and laughed and said... "'In the Onion Kingdom.'" I had absolutely no idea what that meant, and I guess my facial expression betrayed me. "It was kind of an inside thing between us," Wakaba said sheepishly. "But trust me, it was the most perfect, most wonderful thing to say." I smiled. "Then what happened?" "I don't know. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in my room. But it WASN'T a dream, Juri-sempai, I know it. She wouldn't do that, she wouldn't just appear in a dream if she had to leave. She'd really say goodbye." "That's probably true," I mused. "I must admit, I regret not being kinder to her while she was here. I wish I had known her as well as you did." I didn't mean to imply any kind of hidden meanings with that statement, but Wakaba blushed again. "Um, sempai, remember when I said we were just best friends, and nothing more ever happened between us?" I raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" "Well... that wasn't exactly true..." "Really?" I asked, desperately hiding a smile. "When I was yelling at her, remember, and she wouldn't say anything, she just kind of leaned close to me and... kissed me. Right here." She pointed at the soft, white space directly between her eyes. "She did that once before, actually, and it just kinda confused me then, but this time... I-I wanted..." "It's okay, you don't have to say it," I interrupted. "I understand." "But... do you really? I mean..." "Yes. I do." We just sort of looked at each other for a moment, then. "It's a little frustrating," I said eventually. "I certainly don't regret having those feelings, but it's sad to want something that's not meant for me." "Oh, I don't think so at all!" Wakaba replied, all smiles and exuberance again. "Everybody only desires things they can't have, that's the whole point! No one ever REALLY gets what they want, but it's okay. Everything always turns out all right anyway!" I gave an ironic little half-smile. "I guess that's true. That reminds me, Wakaba-san, we just finalized our decisions for next year's council." I bowed slightly to her. "Congratulations, vice-president." Her mouth hung open, and she just stared at me. "Are you making fun of me, sempai? 'Cause that's mean, and I thought you weren't like that, and..." "It's not a joke," I interrupted, vaguely insulted. "You were chosen to be the vice-president in next-year's student council. You have impressed a lot of people in the past few weeks." Wakaba's face glowed, literally GLOWED as she looked at me. "He remembered," she whispered. "I thought he'd forgotten all about me, but... he didn't." I blinked. "Who?" She had her hands clasped just over her heart, as if it'd jump out of her chest and fly away if she wasn't ready to beat it back in by force. "Saionji-sama," she replied, voice still tinged with awe. "You all choose your own replacements, right? So he... he chose me." Suddenly I understood, and it made things very awkward indeed. Wakaba looked different to me now; the idea of... loving... Saionji is so distasteful to me, like a punishment. Such a cruel, weak, ugly man... I had Wakaba pegged as an intelligent person, despite her general exuberance. This put a cloud over her. Though, the rational voice in my head said, the way I see Saionji is just the way most people see Shiori. "Wakaba-san," I said hesitantly, and the change in my demeanor caused her to look at me with confusion and concern, "you misunderstand. Saionji didn't choose you. It was an order handed down directly from the chairman." The change was immediate. She was devastated, I think, but looked oddly okay with it, like she expected it to be the end result anyway. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry," I said lamely, not sounding like myself at all. She didn't reply. I was vaguely annoyed that a future member of the student council would mope so about something she couldn't change, but I realized the irony of that and didn't say anything. Besides, Wakaba is a good person at heart, and I didn't want her mad at me. Wakaba sighed. "Oh well," she said eventually, giving a tired little half-smile. "I guess there's no point in moping about it. You knew about that letter I sent him and everything, right?" Of course I did, the whole school knew about that. It's how I first heard of Wakaba, before I'd even known Utena. "No, I try not to meddle in other people's business." She smiled in thanks, then looked oddly serious a moment later. It put me off how drastically and quickly she was able to shift her facial expression and still manage to always look sincere. "Oh, before I forget, how did things turn out with Shiori-sempai? Good?" Damn her and her musical name! but I kept my cool and nodded stoically. "Yes," I replied, "Everything turned out okay." And suddenly all was relief and happiness and eagerness again. "I'm glad. I was so worried about you and Miki-san! I knew you'd work it out!" She smiled widely, and I suddenly realized that she considered us friends, and that Utena had, too. "Thank you, Wakaba-san," I said. I had been acutely aware of how late I was going to be for my... date... and was about to say something now that our conversation had reached climax and balance, but it seems she realized it too. "Ohh, I'm making you late for your... meeting, aren't I? Sorry sorry sorry, I babble sometimes. I'm late too; the girls are going to give me 'UFO duty'." "Well, you don't want that," I said, smiling. "I will see you later, Wakaba-san." "Bye!" She started to walk away, but turned quickly and looked at me with flashing eyes. "You sure you weren't lying about the whole vice-president thing?" "It's an easy job," I replied. "Don't worry." She beamed, waved, and skipped off happily into the darkness. I stood behind for a second or two before going on my way. I didn't realize it then, but from that moment on, I only thought about Shiori when I had reason to. When I returned home later than evening, I immediately took a shower, because I was in need of one. I turned on the water, washed myself, and then turned the water off. Humming to myself and feeling very clean indeed, I put on my nightgown and went for a stroll. The fountain was quiet and solemn as I approached, but it seemed to welcome me with soft, soothing words as I sat down. There was no moon, but there was a lot of light from the stars. I sat, feeling only the warm air around me and seeing only the night sky above me, as I waited for her to come. She never came. I don't even know who I expected her to be, really. Maybe Utena, so I could apologize for my behavior when we first met. Maybe Shiori, young and small, grabbing my hand and pulling me off toward some new game or adventure. Maybe someone else entirely, someone I'd never even seen before. I waited there all night, but she never came. The sky remained clear and the air remained warm, and she never came. I grew slightly older and my fountain kept flowing, and she never came. I was sixteen years old, sitting alone by a fountain on a beautiful, moonless night, and it felt like it would be an eternity before I turned seventeen. She would never come. I was so happy. I closed my eyes and stretched back my head and waited for her to come. _______________________________ Special thanks to Elisabeth Hergerat and Marybeth Mareski Super-ooper-duper special thanks to Alan Harnum, for pre- reading, encouragement, and, y'know, single-handedly keeping Utena fandom alive.