A little, or not so little, idea that had been flitting through my head was the inspiration for this story. The product of many obsessive hours of study and analysis, it takes place after Episode 39, with obvious spoilers for the entire series. Standard disclaimers apply. Shoujo Kakumei Utena is the property of Chiho Saito, Be-Papas, TV Tokyo, and various other international companies involved in its production and distribution. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Terminus By: Gramarye -------------------------------------------------------------------- Either you had no purpose Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured And is altered in fulfilment. -- T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets--Little Gidding -------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a high-pitched whistling sound that woke me, I think. It sounded a little like the dented old sewing machine that my aunt used when I was young, when I heard the rhythmic noise late at night through my closed bedroom door. It sounded a little like cold wind slipping through a chink in the window. Whatever it was, it hummed and thrummed until sleep decided to leave me and find someone else to curl up with. I opened my eyes just a crack, my mind still groggy and not fully awake. Brilliant sunlight streamed into the room, bright enough to make me idly wonder if Himemiya had overslept--she usually woke me up on school days, worried that my noisy alarm clock would disturb Chu-chu. Even so, I'd know if she was still asleep. She always snored, just a little bit. /She must have let me sleep later than normal./ I rubbed my eyes, stretched and rolled over, searching for my slippers. I promptly found myself on the floor, dazed and bruised from my fall. Rubbing the sore spot on my head, I opened my eyes fully and stared at the sturdy wooden bunk bed and neatly arranged furniture of my room in the East Dormitory. /When...when did we move back in here? Why aren't we in the tower with Akio...san..../ A sudden explosion of brutal pain in my chest knocked me flat on my back. Wave after wave of cold nausea swept through me, and I curled into a fetal position, knees pressed tightly to my body to try and stop the awful burning inside me. No sickness I'd ever had hurt as much, not raging menstrual cramps or stomach flu or the aftermath of one of Himemiya's cooking experiments. It subsided slowly, pain receding to a dull ache just behind my breastbone. There was a faintly sour, metallic taste in my mouth, as if I had been drinking water straight from a garden hose. With a series of grunts, I stumbled to my feet and used the familiar furniture as a crutch to get to the closet. I needed clothes and a shower before I could even imagine pondering anything else. --------------------------------------------------------------------- After a short shower in rusty-smelling and tepid water, I slowly padded around the room, my damp fingers idly tracing patterns in the layers of dust on the furniture. Except for the fluffy brown dust on everything and a slightly musty smell, our room hadn't changed since we left it to live in the tower. /Himemiya...what's happened to her?/ I hadn't dared to venture outside the dormitory. The possibility of running into Miki-kun, or Touga...or heaven forbid, Akio-san, was far too great. Even seeing Wakaba wouldn't be a good idea. There was no way to explain.... /Explain what?/ I wondered. /How can I explain what happened when I'm not even sure myself?/ In the shower, I had noticed a thin gash across my back, between and just below my shoulder blades. Encrusted blood edged the wound, which throbbed angrily in the stream of murky water. The rest of the shower was spent contorting my body in all manner of positions, trying to get clean while avoiding the uncomfortable feeling of the water on my aching back. I had torn up a clean sheet to bind the sore spot, wrapping it around and around my torso. When I had finished, I was swathed from armpits to navel in white cotton, my breasts non-existent. While it didn't flatter my naturally boyish figure, it kept my clothing from chafing the already tender area. And in terms of clothing, I was tempted to wear my "uniform", but settled for a well-worn sweater and pair of trousers. My toilette done, I flopped into a chair with a gusty sigh. Dust motes swirled in the sunlight that tried to shine through the filthy windowpanes. I sat there for a while, watching the sunlight move in bars across the floor. I wasn't thinking about anything--one of those strangely zen moments that always seem to come at the wrong times. The shadows had mostly faded by the time I decided to get out of that chair. The room was uncomfortably warm, and I needed to move around. Without even thinking, I shrugged my jacket onto my shoulders and opened the door of our...my...*the* room. The East Dorm was filthy--floors not scrubbed, furniture draped in dingy dustcloths, windows and mirrors caked with thick layers of grime. It was almost painful to see my former home in such disarray. Himemiya had always kept it spotless, though I couldn't imagine how much time it must have taken to clean and maintain an entire dorm, to keep it looking presentable. I'd never really thought about it before. I tried not to touch the gritty-looking bannister as I walked downstairs and out the front door. The building itself looked slightly more disheveled than I remembered. The gutters and rainspouts hadn't been cleaned, and the ivy and other climbing vines threatened to engulf a significant portion of the dormitory. It made me a little sad to look at the dirty windows--I half fancied I could hear Himemiya humming tunelessly as she busied herself with cloths and buckets of steaming, soapy water. The East Dorm sorely missed her gentle touch. Turning my back on my old home, I set off on a leisurely stroll. It soon brought me to the middle of campus. The grounds were completely deserted--everyone was in class after lunch. A few discarded prepackaged food wrappers made crinkling noises as the light wind brushed past them. I don't know exactly what happened at that moment. I was watching the wrapper of a candy bar whirl around in a sudden updraft, and then the whole world shifted beneath my feet and I was standing in the shadows of the courtyard corridor, and then there was Himemiya in my line of sight, walking quietly toward me. A flicker of nausea turned my stomach, and my mind jangled with a sickeningly discordant sense of displacement. The wound on my back burned briefly but painfully, as if someone had set a white-hot poker between my shoulders and pressed down for a moment. I'm certain that my mouth was hanging open wide enough to catch flies. And I think I remained that way until she passed by the pillar in front of me, continuing down the corridor. She didn't even look at the greenhouse, or even pause in her stride as she walked past. This from the girl who seemed to spend most of her waking hours prodding at the roses that bloomed inside its glass walls. I quickly followed her at a safe pace, afraid to go near her, terrified that if I tried to speak to her or touch her, a magic spell would be broken and she would vanish like a burst soap bubble. I followed her doggedly, just close enough to always keep her in my sight, but far enough away to avoid suspicion. She turned a corner, crossing behind the main high school building. For a moment I thought I had lost her--only to catch up to her standing before the Chairman's tower. She stopped at the elevator, and pressed the little pearl button next to it. The doors slid noiselessly open. She stepped inside, and the doors closed. The little light above the elevator began its slow journey to the far right as the elevator rose. Like a fool, I nearly pressed the button. I caught myself just before my finger touched it, realizing that I would be a fool to get caught up in whatever was going on up there. Yet the need to follow Himemiya was stronger that my common sense, and I resolutely began to climb the fire staircase inside the column. /Akio-san might be many things,/ I thought, /but he's not fireproof. At least I have no trouble with long flights of stairs./ The fire exit in the tower was concealed behind a curtain, since flawing the elegant architecture of the top floor with a health code-mandated addition was repugnant to its owner. I took care to move very slowly and quietly, passing through the bedroom Himemiya and I had shared, then peering cautiously around the doorway into the Chairman's quarters. Both Himemiya and Akio-san were in there. Himemiya stood in front of Akio-san, and he was at his desk, working industriously on his computer. Feeling like the mustache-twirling villain in an old-fashioned comic drama, I crept from my spying place and hid behind the planetarium projector. My position provided me with a clear view of Himemiya and the rest of the room, although the back of Akio-san's head blocked my view of the computer screen. Himemiya faced him, hands folded placidly in front of her. Chuchu, looking tired and strangely listless, sat on the desk next to several envelopes. My fists clenched unconsciously at the sight of the rose seal pasted neatly over the flap. "It hasn't been that long since then, but everybody's forgotten about her completely," Akio-san said, his voice frighteningly casual. "She didn't cause a Revolution after all." His fingers raced over the keyboard. "Now that she's gone, she was just a dropout to this world." If he had thought that he could elicit a response from her, he was disappointed. Himemiya didn't move, and her bland, vacant expression--the one I hated so much--didn't change. Calmly, he continued. "I have to rebuild the Code of the Rose Signet from scratch. I'm counting on you, Anthy." There was a soft click as Himemiya removed her glasses and placed them on the table in front of him. Something deep inside me squirmed momentarily, inexplicably. But a second later, Chuchu slipped off his tie, removed his earring, and placed both on the table next to his mistress' glasses. "You don't know what happened, do you?" Anthy said quietly. Startled, Akio-san looked up from the computer monitor. "Eh?" She stared at him gravely. "It's all right now. Please continue playing the make-believe 'Prince' in this comfortable little coffin forever." She turned away from the desk and walked toward the elevator. "However, I must go." I could only imagine the look on Akio-san's face. "Go? Where?" From over her shoulder, Anthy replied, "That person hasn't vanished. She's merely left *your* world." "What're you talking about?" He leapt out of his chair, papers and sealed envelopes scattering wildy and falling to the floor. "W-wait a minute! Anthy!" She didn't stop. She didn't turn back, not even to look at him. "ANTHY!!" he shouted, desperation tinging his cry. "Farewell." The doors of the elevator slowly slid shut. The bells that had signaled the start and end of each successive duel began to ring just then, pealing out with the ethereal power and beauty of a church carillion on Christmas morning. Akio-san collapsed into his leather chair and seemed to wilt, defeated by their loud clamour. If he heard the elevator bell ring, and the door slide open and closed one more time, he showed no sign of hearing it. Once in the elevator, I cheered out loud, my heart singing in silent triumph. Himemiya was free--free of that horrible penance that forced her to be the Rose Bride, free from her brother's control. She wasn't a mindless, suffering puppet anymore. I did a silly little dance, too, capering on my toes and giggling happily. When I reached the ground, for a horrible moment I feared I would discover that Himemiya had vanished. The relief I felt when the doors opened and I saw her facing the front gate of the academy made my stomach quiver. My breath caught in my throat at the wonderful sight. With her glasses gone, her bag packed, and a smart rosy pink traveling suit that had magically appeared in place of the dowdy regulation skirt, Himemiya was a different woman. I found myself gazing at her in awe, trying to find in this beautiful and self-possessed lady any trace of the quiet schoolgirl and sometime 'trophy' I had known. Chuchu scrambled up and onto her shoulder, a small blue and white handkerchief slung over his back. It was filled with food, I had no doubt, but I had to suppress a quiet chuckle at the sight. Anthy smiled indulgently at him, then turned to face the front gates. "Now it's my turn to go to you," she said quietly, speaking to herself. "No matter where you are, I'll find you for sure. Wait for me, Utena." With barely a pause, she stepped lightly through the gates of Ohtori. I ran after her, happily crying her name, but just before I reached the entrance to the academy, I ran into a wall. Or what felt like a wall, since the gates were wide open. It's hard to describe exactly what was keeping me from following Himemiya. It was a little like a wall, in the fact that it was hard and absolutely unyielding. It was like a pane of newly-cleaned glass, since it was perfectly transparent. Whatever it was, I threw myself at it, trying to break through and run after Himemiya. It didn't move. I kept hurling myself at the invisible barrier, feeling the pain increase as my heart pounded. Bruising my arms and shoulders, scraping my knees when I fell, blood dripping in coppery rivulets from my mouth--I must have bitten my lip or tongue somewhere along the way. As I gathered up my strength for one final assault, I heard that same high-pitched whistling that had awakened me in the morning. But this time, the sound of someone talking quietly was mixed in with the maddening hum. It sounded like my own voice, but the whistling drone behind it nearly drowned out the words. "Say, if anything is troubling you, talk to me about it...I want to be your friend. And someday, with me..." "Someday, with you?" The voice that replied might have been Himemiya's--my head was spinning too badly to concentrate. "Himemiya...I'm...right here...." I wheezed as pain screamed in my chest, driving the breath out of my lungs. Through blurry eyes, I could see her less than a hundred yards away from me, walking away from Ohtori--yet I knew she'd never hear me, not if I shouted her name as loudly as I could. I didn't feel my knees wobble and my legs give way as I collapsed onto the pavement. I don't know how long I knelt there, crumpled on the ground like a discarded marionette. My mind whirled, wild and disjointed thoughts careening around inside my head. I screamed, sobbed, cursed, threw things, howled in frustration and anger--but only inside my head. My body wouldn't move. "Are you going to stay like that forever?" The male voice sounded slightly amused, although the levity didn't register in my brain for several seconds. I lifted my head a fraction, just enough to stare into a pair of dark blue eyes. "Are you going to stay like that forever?" the voice repeated. I gazed without emotion at the tall man who stood next to me. I should have recognized him instantly--after all, no one else I knew had hair that color, with that unruly forelock--but for some reason I couldn't put face and hair and voice together very quickly. "Ruka-sempai?" I ventured cautiously. He nodded. "I thought you were dead." The first coherent sentence I could make, and it had to be that one. Ruka seemed to take no notice, however. "It is a pleasure to see you again, oujisama," he said with a small smile. I flinched. "Don't!" I snarled, clenching my hands into fists. "Don't call me that...don't mock me." Ruka raised an eyebrow. "You can't tell me that you've given up already, oujisama." "I'm not a prince!" I shouted. The effort of raising my voice made the pain return, and I pressed a hand against my heart in a feeble attempt to relieve the agony. "It was just pretend," I said weakly, "just a lie I told myself to make believe that I was someone special." "For a lie, it certainly was effective," Ruka replied, extending a thin hand in an offer to help me to my feet. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reply, but I couldn't ignore the gesture. I took his slim, cold hand, and he pulled me to my feet without much exertion on his part. "You can't give up now. We're counting on you." he said. "We?" I looked around at the deserted campus, then back at him. "There's no one else here." Ruka's mouth twitched. "I enjoyed watching your last duel. There was true desperation there, something I hadn't seen in any Duellist since Saionji's response to your victory. Both fighting to regain or retain their tenuous hold on reality." I didn't answer him. A sickening feeling had begun to grow in the pit of my stomach, making my insides churn nauseatingly. "Despite what you may think, Saionji wasn't...sorry, I should say *isn't*, an incompetent," Ruka continued placidly. "One doesn't end up as captain of the kendo club for nothing. But in terms of fighting styles, Touga could--and, as I'm sure you noticed, *did*--beat him quite easily. What Miki lacks in experience and strength, he makes up for in stamina and skill. And Juri...." Ruka trailed off, lost in thought. After a moment, he shook his head abruptly, as if to clear his mind. "Juri could defeat him. No question." While Ruka was speaking, I felt a change in the air. The campus seemed to shiver, and the familiar outlines of buildings wavered and melted together. I rubbed my eyes and blinked several times, trying to clear my vision. When everything finally returned to normal, I gasped. A large crowd of people stood on the formerly deserted campus lawn, gathered behind Ruka. They wore various outfits, none of which I could clearly distinguish. In fact, I couldn't even see their faces properly--their features shifted and changed, blurred together like a wet watercolor. Ruka shook his head slowly. "You certainly weren't the first person to be Victor. You won the Rose Bride from Saionji. Who do you imagine he won her from?" /Former captain of the fencing team./ "You, of course." While the thought would have never entered my mind at any other time, the logic was inescapable. "Isn't it amazing how important the promise of revolution can be to someone? And the fact that one's opponent is half-dead at the time is possibly the best part." He shook his head at his self-depreciating humor, then continued. "All of us failed, oujisama. All of us, former Victors of the Duel, or whatever the Chosen One was called at the time. We failed to Revolutionize the world, and as punishment, we are trapped here." "All of you?" I exclaimed. "Ah, but surely you must have wondered about the concept before. I doubt if anyone could be that grossly insensitive or that hideously naive to not wonder," said an unfamiliar voice. A hush fell over the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of pink, a shade lighter than the color of my own hair. The crowd parted in respectful silence as a young man walked toward me. One look at his face, with its arrogant smile and far-away eyes, was enough for me to remember a part of my life so inexplicably forgotten. My world tilted nauseatingly upon its axis, and the ground seemed to fall away beneath me as I said his name. "Mikage Souji." "Not exactly right, but it will do for now," he replied, inclining his head gracefully in my direction. Without turning his head, he addressed Ruka. "You have told her what she must do?" "Not yet," Ruka answered, nodding respectfully. The change in his manner was dramatic--the confident fencing captain, bowing to *Mikage*, of all people! "Then I will." Mikage delicately cleared his throat. "You have saved one person, oujisama. Are you prepared to save more?" "Save?" I repeated dumbly. "From what? And how?" "Is the what so important? Princes usually do not stop to ask such pointless questions," Mikage said delicately. "And as for the how...." He mimicked the removal of a sword from a sheath. I tried to speak, but only succeeded in making a rusty croak. Mikage lowered his hands, never taking his eyes away from mine. "When I see you now, it fascinates me to remember what you said to me at our last meeting but one. What was it you said...." His voice suddenly altered, changing to a slightly husky version of my own. "'I'll beat you to a pulp and prove that I'm different from you!'" He cleared his throat a second time, and his voice returned to normal. "Yes, that was it." A sharp stab of pain darkened my senses momentarily. Mikage smiled--not a nice smile, I thought. "I think you also called me a 'string-pulling bastard', if memory serves me right. Then again, memories can be so *malleable*, can't they?" He moved closer to me; his intense eyes with their fanatical gleam boring their way into my mind. "You should know, oujisama." I pointedly ignored his last words. "I remember fighting you. I also remember that I won," I said, my voice low and calm. "And after that you weren't there anymore. And until a minute ago, I'd all but forgotten you." Mikage tilted his head slightly. "You've been subjected to the same treatment as I. 'Graduated' from these illustrious halls of learning. Vanished, gone without a trace. No one clearly remembers the dashing Tenjou Utena, just as no one remembers the charismatic Mikage Souji, or the brilliant professor named Nemuro. But like myself, like all of us, you are still here. And you cannot leave. No one can--at least, not without *his* permission." I found my voice at last. "So you want me to free you, all of you, from this place. Why should I?" Mikage sighed quietly. "Because of who you are, oujisama." All of my anger came surging back. "WHY?!" I exploded. "Why should I help *you*, or Ruka...or any of you who used Himemiya for your own purposes, never thinking about her as anything more than a tool to get what you wanted. So you failed, and I succeeded, and now you want me to help you. Well, Mikage, or whoever you are, you can forget it. Because I have no intention of assisting someone who once manipulated my life, trying to kill Himemiya, trying to turn those I care for against me." "If you don't intend to listen to reason--" "Reason?" I said witheringly. "Reason? You're the last person I would expect to hear talking about *reason*. You're stark raving mad, for lack of a better word." "I thought you would have more sense than this, Tokiko," Mikage replied, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "I imagine that seeing my best friend turned into a soulless doll has something to do with my opinion of....what did you just call me?" I said, startled out of my diatribe. Before my eyes, the arrogant sneer quickly melted from his face. He blinked several times, shaking his head slightly, as if to clear his thoughts. He seemed to age immeasurably as I watched, his body slumping, as he looked around with bewildered and almost paranoid eyes. "Even when he has no further use for me, he continues to torment me," he mumbled. He lifted his head slightly and stared at me, his pale face haunted and haggard. "You have every reason to loathe me, oujisama. I understand that. I have no right to ask you for anything. I accept that. But we..." and with that he waved his hand behind him, indicating Ruka and the hazy crowd--who had remained silent all this time--"...we need you." "To kill him," I said quietly but forcefully. "That's what you want me to do, am I right?" "The Prince will do the right thing," Mikage replied blandly, without emotion. "The 'right thing' meaning that you'd prefer him dead." Ruka stepped forward, speaking for the first time since Mikage had taken control of the conversation. "If nothing else will free us, then we would accept the fact that you had no other options." His words sounded tinny, rehearsed many times before. Something deep inside me told me to overlook that warning note, brush it aside for now. I folded my arms across my chest, wincing only slightly when the muscles in my back stretched and pulled the edges of the healing wound apart. "What will happen to you, then?" I asked. A soft noise made me turn my head to look at Mikage again. An almost beatific smile had erased the pain from his tired face. "Release, I pray. A chance to be reunited with...well, the name is of no importance. Or perhaps oblivion...it doesn't really matter. But I will graduate, of my own free will, and be at peace. And so will everyone else. You also, I assume." I turned my gaze to Ruka, the unspoken question plain in my eyes. He nodded once. "You performed my task for me, even if you didn't realize what you had done. Cut that damned golden albatross from her neck. I was certain that I was free from the academy--I died, I imagine, with the proverbial smile on my lips. And yet I found myself here." I returned his nod. "Because you had failed, and had allowed someone else to win your battles for you." "Precisely." "So therefore, if I set all of you free, as I did with Himemiya, then I'll be allowed to leave?" "That is the likely outcome." My mouth settled into a line of grim determination. "Then I'll do it." I frowned slightly at the pure relief that crossed Ruka's face. "But I'm not doing it for you--understand that right now. I'm doing for the all the people that cannot help you be free, that in some small way act as a part of your chains. For Juri-sempai, and for...." My mind whirled and cleared, settling on a name that I had never heard before, but one I had always known. "....For young Mamiya." Mikage's sudden sharp intake of breath--a ragged gasp that was closer to a sob--and a rustling murmur from the shady crowd made me continue haltingly. "I will be your prince, in their name." "But what are you going to do?" Ruka asked. I smiled mirthlessly. "When I reach the top floor and look him straight in the eyes...that's when I'll know what to do." With that, my right hand flew to my chest. A sharp, surprisingly painless pull later, I held my glittering sword in a steady hand. I turned on my heel and stalked toward the tower that dominated the academy. Bringing the Revolution home. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Gramarye April 22, 2001 gramarye@mailandnews.com http://gramarye.freehosting.net/