Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Two Princes ❯ Letters, Rings, Roses, and Princes ( Chapter 6 )

Title: A Tale of Two Princes

Chapter 6: Letters, Rings, Roses, and Princes

Rating: PG-13

Poetry is mine

Shoujo-ai Content

Utena and its character do not belong to me. I am just borrowing.

 

The letter had been waiting for her in her mailbox. She had taken leave of her bed earlier than normal, because of... Well, she disliked calling it a dream, but that was all it was, a very terrible dream. It made her understand, in more ways than she was comfortable with, how the other students who had experienced such things felt. What bothered her about the dream though, was that she could not remember it in absolute detail. She could only pick out bits and pieces, scraps of memory, scattered and dissonant.

 

Upon picking the letter up Juri opened it, reading it almost too quickly, and then after she had started walking for her classes and realizing she had about an hour to spare, she took the time to really let the words sink beneath her skin. Some of it frightened her. Some of it made her worry. The whole of it fueled her desire to search for answers.

 

Juri,

 

Thank you for letter. I was happy that you should think of me so soon. I'm doing as well as I can here, but despite my wanting, the change of scenery... I fear the dreams are still just as bad, I think that, maybe, they've gotten worse.

 

Your letter was longer than I thought it would be, but then, reading it I could tell you were writing as if your were trying to decide about something. Is it so hard for you to not want to protect me? Is it still that hard for you, to tell me things?

 

I think I understand why you want to, but then again... I know that I don't. So I'm glad, in the only way I can be... that you found it in yourself to tell me the truth.

 

It's hard for me to say, but... I'm sure you'll be happy with her.

 

Did you know that she wrote me as well? She did... and I can not say she was as gentle as you were in your approach, but that's just because she doesn't fear the injury...You always will, won't you? As much as I hate it, I hope that one thing never changes about you.

 

You said, before I left, that you hoped one day I could trust you with something. I know what you meant, but as much as you say you want to know... I don't think you really do. Should I tell you anyway? Why do I have this feeling, that deep down, you already know what I'm going to say?

 

I have given this a lot of thought...in fact I've put this letter away for nearly two days. It's been staring at me from my dresser. I feel a little guilty for not picking it up again sooner.

 

We're friends, aren't we Juri? We used to be close and now, again... we're almost okay again, and then, we're still further apart than ever. Don't hate me Juri. I don't think I could stand that, not again, not because of this. You have to know... it is not something that is easy to write. It would be even harder to say out loud. I feel like a coward having to write you. I feel...but I've wasted enough paper trying to avoid this. I suppose we have that much in common.

 

Sometimes I dream about you, about us.

 

I dream that I find your locket in my room, and the discovery leaves me oddly excited. I feel vindicated in my feelings for you (which then, you must know, I hated you so). But I don't know why... Finding the locket confuses me as well. There's something...something deeper and I remember something.

 

The dream takes me to a dark...It's just a dark little room, Juri, and there is this voice...and I tell it...I say things. I say things that I mean, and yet, they aren't what I mean. I say things that are darker than what I really feel, and yet...How do I say this?

 

Juri... Somewhere deep inside it was the truth and it was freedom to finally be able to say it all out loud. But as freeing as it was to know what sway I held over you, it made me feel sick as well. It was utterly disgusting, because it meant that I was wrong about you. It meant that you weren't just taking pity on poor pathetic me. It meant...it meant you really cared about me. And it was disgusting, because, God, Juri, how could you love me? How could you want something so pathetic?

 

You see how terrible I am? I'm terrible... but it's the past right? And we've moved on passed those times.

 

The worst dreams happen after that part. The worst dreams give me a pain in my chest, like I've been stabbed straight through. And after the pain fades to a small instant lingering... I'm left a cruel person, and... And I like it that way. I enjoy it, because it makes me strong...stronger than you. Stronger than anything I am.

 

The worst parts of the dream are finding you, and confronting you with the locket. The worst part is the pleasure I take in watching you shrink to the truth. They way you almost cower when I start to flirt, and I do... Not for any reason other than that you look so beautiful when you're sad. Seeing you hurt, like that, by me, because of me... I'm surprised I didn't kiss you.

 

But I don't want to kiss you; in the dream what I want from you is in your heart. I take it from you, I pull it right out of your chest, and it's a sword. It's your sword, and your strength, and with that I can change the world. Standing over you with your sword in my hands... There is this swell in my chest of completion and, I don't know... I can't remember...Maybe I do kiss you; it's hard to remember for certain because that part blurs.

 

Sometimes...if I can't wake up the dream continues. Sometimes I end up trying to kill someone; I think...I think she's a prince. Isn't that odd...that the prince should be a girl?

 

I never win...I always lose in my dreams, but it's okay because when I lose, sometimes I feel better. Other times when I lose I wake up feeling like nothing changed in me at all, and those are the times that scare me the most.

 

I'm not looking for your advice or forgiveness, Juri. I write these lines and relive my worst dreams because you wanted to know...because you worry. I think...I think you worry too much. They're just dreams. They are just dreams and eventually...well they have to pass.

 

Don't hate me for this. I write that, not knowing why I think you would.

 

You're a good friend...one day...One day I hope we can the kind of friends we had always meant to be to each other.

 

Most sincerely,

Shiori

 

P.S. I'm jealous you know. Don't think I wouldn't be... but I'm... happy for you, at least as much as I can be under the circumstances.

 

 

Currents bow to the tides of the heart

They sway lustilytowards the shores

And give up everything to rush there

They lose all force behind their mystery

Forsaking what they are for what they want

Or is it for what they desperately need

And they need answers

They need a perspective on change

A reason for why they've settled for difference

Under a bluer sky than the blacker nights they have known

 

The day was hazy and warm. There seemed to be a type of fog hanging over the school that was all heat and it blurred the edges of forms in the distance, bending the shape of the world into contorted figures. As Touga gingerly stepped down the path, passed the library, on the long road towards the older part of the school and the ruins of Numero Hall, he squinted against the glare of the sun. He should have remembered to take his sunglasses off the dresser. He hadn't realized how bright it had gotten since he had been tucked into the shade of classrooms all day.

 

He stopped for a moment and turned to face the other heap of ruins that were not very far from the hall.

 

The old fencing hall still smelled of smoke and cinder. He had an urge to go into it and explore. He felt as if, in someway, the ghost that lingered there was calling to him, but he resisted the smoky pull and husky creak of the building. In time he resolved to return, but duty was calling him to a different direction.

 

It seemed very odd that there should be two places on the campus that had mysteriously gone up in flames. It felt contrived in many aspects, like a plot without reason, but however minute, he supposed that all plots had a purpose, all however, were not great or true.

 

He moved on and then stopped again as the call of his name caught his ears. He turned to the direction which the voice had come from and smirked incredulously to see an old acquaintance leaning in the shadows of a small tree. He stepped off the path and over to the girl. She stood impatiently, arms across her chest, ocean blue eyes lidded with a sort of irritation.

 

When he addressed her she grinned wolfishly and said, "It's been a while, Mr. Kiryuu."

 

"It has, but it isn't as if you've been missing my company."

 

"Hardly, but then, I've been keeping better company these days."

 

"Sweeter company," he stated with a touch of added flourish.

 

She let a chuckle escape from her throat, "She isn't sweet."

 

"No?"

 

"Mr. Kiryuu you off all people should realize that she's just gracefully wild." She uncrossed her arms and shrugged, stepping forward as if to leave.

 

He stopped her arching an eyebrow to ask, "Making sure my intentions are sincere, Miss Kaoru, how very unlike you."

 

She clicked her tongue and stepped in closer to him, "Listen to me, very carefully, because I won't say it again. This isn't a threat Touga, this is a promise... If you drag her or my brother back into any dealings with the diminished Chairman I will have no choice but find new ways to make your life a living hell."

 

His eyes narrowed, he did not take kindly to such "promises". He looked her deep in the eyes, "Given your past reputation, I think I should be more worried about the dealings you would drag them into."

 

"Well it's nice to know we don't trust each other," she paused and then said, "If anything happens to her or my brother because of these dreams I'm going to blame you. Nothing he had anything to do with is worth exploring further."

 

A smirk perked at the corner of his mouth and he nodded adding, "I have no intentions of dragging your brother into anything, but I can not control Juri. She's too smart and worries too much to keep her nose out of this. Speaking of dreams... have you told your brother about them?"

 

She bit at the inside of her lip and then smiled, "I'll see you around. My promise stands though." She began to walk away and then turned sharply on her heels to state, "If you ever kiss her-"

 

He laughed, "Dear girl, before you could lay a finger on me she'd have me laying face down in the mud."

 

Touga watched as Kozue ambled away and shook his head. That was certainly a new experience for him, but then Kozue Kaoru was always very straight forward about her intentions. Even if her threat was presumptuous and a tad infuriating, it presented her full opinion on things, and cleared up any doubt in his mind about her past connections. The girl may not have been a top student, but she was not stupid, in fact she was almost too street wise and observant for her own good.

 

With a deep breath he continued his trek to Numero Hall.

 

Juri had arrived first and was already poking around the rubble, she gave him a courteous nod and continued her searching until he stepped over to her and playful recalled his encounter with Kozue.

 

The fencer sighed and shook her head, "I can't exactly blame her reaction, however, perhaps I should not have told her about what I was doing."

 

"Yes, why did you do that?"

 

"You know as well as I do that she is smarter than she likes to let on. She doesn't do it often, but the way she speaks about her past sometimes, it's a wonder she doesn't have this school on its knees."

 

Touga was intrigued, "Explain that a little more please."

 

She paused and looked over and him smiling softly, "She has a knack for gathering information."

 

"Oh, no doubt."

 

"No, Touga, I'm serious... You and I we're pretty good, but she knows all the little dark corners of this school. She's lingered in them for a long time and with the kind of teacher I'd never want to take a lesson from," she said and continued her searching.

 

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to imagine anything that Akio Ohtori could have, or would have taught someone like Kozue. It was hard enough living with the lessons he had been given, even if they seemed and felt like things he wanted at the time.

 

The building was barren of anything. Too much of it was in ashes to be suitable, he couldn't piece together where the confessional would have been located. And suddenly, he remembered his dream, he was about to mention it when he noticed Juri standing very still. She was not trembling. She stood in the rigid pose of someone who would tremble if they weren't so very strong and stubborn. It was as if her body absolutely refused to show the fear it felt.

 

He stepped over to her and she turned to greet him palm outstretched and he had to fight from taking a step backwards. Because he didn't want to be anywhere near what she held, understanding all too well the fear he had sensed in her just moments before. It wrapped up around him and threatened to extinguish his pride. He let his expression wash to stoic, and wondered how he must look to his friend.

 

She took a deep breath and then swallowed before saying in a tone that wanted to quaver, "I think we're in a bit over our heads."

 

"I think," he replied in very much the same manner, "I would have to agree."

 

He stepped forward and picked up one of the two objects in Juri's hand. It was a ring. More specifically and importantly it was a rose signet ring, but the metal was completely black, singed to the point that the ash was lacquered on, and irremovable. Even the rose quartz inlay had a darkness to it in the places where it actually remained; many of the places where the inlay should have been were vacant.

 

"Duelists died in this building," she stated. "Do you remember how old this building is?'

 

"No, but we need to find out."

 

They were very still for a long time and then Juri said, "What do we do with these?"

 

"We leave them here," he said firmly.

 

She shook her head, "If we leave them others may find them." Her eyes shut tightly as a thought occurred to her that she did not want to mention but then whispered, "And what if there are more left?"

 

He didn't have a reply.

 

"About ninety-eight left, do you think?"

 

"I-"

 

She closed her hand tight around the ring in her hand, "It's unforgivable. Something like this is completely unforgivable."

 

"Juri?"

 

"Unforgivable, Touga... We took risks when weaccepted our rings. We worked with live steel, but the goal and target was always clear...You aim for the rose. You aim for the rose and do as little damage as possible, and we all could manage that because we have the skill to pull something like that off. This... this is cowardice and for what?" She looked at him and there was a chill in her gaze, "What is there to gain, even in that stupid game...what is there to gain in taking the lives of others?"

 

He shook his head, "I don't know Juri, but we can find out."

 

He moved to put his hand on her shoulder but she edged away. He had never seen her that angry. He had seen her in anger, but this; this was near white knuckled rage. He pocketed the ring that he had in his hand, and waited for her to make a move. There was something, something that felt off about her, and it wasn't just the anger. She was taking it too personally, or maybe that wasn't it. Maybe he was just not taking it personally enough. After all if it was so easy to dispose of one set of duelists, how hard would it have been to dispose of them as well? Was there ever a line in the duels that could not be crossed? Was there ever a boundary? There probably was not.

 

She took a deep breath and seemed to relax a little more. She pocketed the ring as well but before she took a step to leave she said very firmly, "I swear to God, if I ever meet that man again... I'll kill him."

 

He nodded, "You would not be short on allies willing to assist you."

 

She huffed, "A prince would not ask assistance."

 

"No, a prince would not, but you know, a prince would offer to help."

 

She crossed her arms over her chest and her shoulders rolled forward. He reached out again and this time she did not shy away from his hand on her shoulder.

 

"The library will close soon if we don't leave now," Juri whispered.

 

"The research can wait. Juri... Would you...care for dinner?"

 

"Only if you're buying."

 

He smiled and clapped his hands together, "Then it's a date," quickly amending, after receiving a scathing look, to add, "in a completely non-romantic and platonic way."

 

She dreams of darker things

Of shadows and heartache

That are beyond repair, is she beyond repair

In the darkness,in the shadow

She sees beyond herself to deeper things

She's been touched by a void of dreams

And the souls that they capture cry for revenge

She's been cursed by justice

Oh you think you understand but your dreams are so different

Oh you think you know the plot but you were given light

You were given different things

She dreams of darker things

Because only hope can find away through the black

To the true colors of a ghostly rose

 

He carried his concern from dinner all the way home with him. He didn't want to worry, but he did. All those dreams, and now both he and Juri had dreamt something similar. As much as he would have liked to waive it all off as a coincidence, there were just too many signs to ignore. His dream was different than Juri's. He had light and she had darkness at the end. He had a bad feeling about it, and it coupled with the distress of finding those rings.

 

He thumbed the ring in his pocket. When the duels were over all the duelist tossed their rings away into the fire and then they had taken the ashes to the river. Was it such a futile thing trying to toss away what you once were so that you could become something better?

 

He was undecided.

 

Touga stopped by his sister's room and was about to knock and check up on her, but the girlish giggles from the other side of the door kept him from completing the task. It made him happy that she was doing things with her friends, but he wished he could have had a good night talk with her. He could have used it, the lovely a trivial report of Nanami's day.

 

When he was younger and hating junior high, or troubled from over hearing something his parents were arguing over, he would always go and talk to his sister about her day. She would eagerly tell him every little detail. She soaked up the attention from him like a sponge, and he realized as he grew older that it was because she, and he too, couldn't get the exact attention they craved from their parents.

 

The horrible fates of rich children, their parents ship them off to a boarding school, and expect them to grow up and appreciate what they've been given.

 

He chuckled to himself. Things could have been worse. He was lucky to be so financially sound at his age.

 

As he sat on his bed he noticed a letter sitting on his pillow. He took it in his hands and grinned when he saw who it was from.

 

When he opened the letter a small wooden carving of a leaf, painted gold, fell out into his hands. As he read the letter he found himself extremely amused, and suddenly very obligated to fulfill the request the letter asked of him.

 

To be continued....