Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Two Princes ❯ The Gathering Tides of Darkness and the Grave of a Lonely Man ( Chapter 8 )

Title: A Tale of Two Princes

Chapter 8: The Gathering Tides of Darkness and the Grave of a Lonely Man

Poetry is mine

Shoujo-ai Content

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

 

Though there was no way either could have known it, the dark dreams of confessional elevators, and a soothing robotic voice haunted Touga and Juri at the same time in the night. The dreams went exactly as they had before for each of them but, this time when they woke, simultaneously, dripping with sweat, there was an immediate dread that filled them with great fear. They breathed heavily in the darkness and as if by mental link they turned their heads towards the direction of the other's dorm. They whispered to the darkness, an almost secret pact. They vowed something they were not sure they had control enough to keep, but they had to swear it. They had to say out loud as to catch the ears of the listening gods.

 

"I will not harm you."

 

And while Touga had to get out of bed for a moment and calm the beating of his heart before he could find a way back into it, Juri was lulled back into sleep by kisses from a girl who smelled perennially of a multitude of spices and clove cigarettes.

 

They were not sure what was happening, but in that shared moment of mocking coincidence Juri Arisugawa and Touga Kiryuu knew one thing for certain... Something had begun. Something that was darker than their dreams could fully imply.

 

And then in the morning they had their suspicions confirmed.

 

It started like the first beats of a giant storm, quiet and then, there was the down pour. The first student had approached Juri on her way into a class, which she subsequently missed. And from there things just grew. The students would seek them out, both of them at once, or individually, as if under a spell of compulsion. They wouldn't know why they had to do it, but they felt that if they didn't they would have been haunted forever, haunted by the terror of dreams, dreams of dark confessionals and an unseen voice prodding them on and asking them to, "Go deeper."

 

By the end of the day Juri and Touga found themselves exhausted and alone in the library. They never even asked each other what was going on. They already knew.

 

Juri messaged her temples for a moment before shaking her head and speaking softly, "How many do you think?"

 

"Nearly a hundred, but a little less." He leaned back into the chair he was sitting on.

 

"I would give about the same estimate."

 

He nodded slowly and then said, "I think I could have handled it except for-"

 

"Who?"

 

He grimaced, "Her friend, the prince's friend. I had gone back to see her because she wanted Saonji's address and when I got there-"

 

"I see," pointed concern marked her features and she continued softly, "Is she going to tell him about her dreams?'

 

He shrugged, "I suppose she would want to-" He looked over at his friend and tried not to grit his teeth as he continued, "The confession seems to be the important thing for them."

 

"I told you before, Touga, these dreams want to be confessed. It's like they're searching for remembrance. I had thought others would seek us out but this... All in one day... This is not something I'd consider a good sign."

 

"I understand your point, but what is it leading to?"

 

They locked gazes and a single word drifted into their heads, but they couldn't speak it out loud. They wouldn't dare.

 

"We should... We should start looking at the archived newspapers," Juri whispered.

 

He nodded and they left to study the archives for the clues they needed. And when what they sought so readily presented itself to them the coincidence sparked an edge of anger in them both.

 

Waking clouds the mind in a mist of certainty

It drifts across like salvation to give a poke at reality

But nothing here is real, nothing here is true

It is all the whim of his illusions

It is all the power of the things he once was, and wishes to be

I am the product of dream gone to waste

I am the subject of illusion lost within itself

Lost here for wanting her love

Lost here for needing their love

This real world you speak of

This place you call what is right

It is the grandest of illusions

It is the empathy of waste

Darkness shrouds the mind

And the world becomes cloaked in the colors I love

The world is the spin of black on maroon touched pink (touched salmon)

In the end the sacrifice was worth the cost

In the end the love never died

In the end I can crawl in the black and pull the dreams of this world around me

Memory for memory because remembrance is immortality

It is what he could never understand

 

"Professor Numero," the name slide off her tongue and into the cool of the even sky.

 

Touga stood next to her and merely regard the unmarked monument with slight distain. There was a foul taste building in his mouth and he felt remarkably uncomfortable. He felt as if he did not belong there. But then how could anyone feel they belonged in such a sad and lonely place.

 

It was just a track of flowers, a small patch of color along the dull of what used to be Ohtori white. It was graying now, almost yellowing under the harsh beat of the sun. An unmarked stone to note the passing of a man the old newspaper hailed as a genius. A man of such talent in numbers there was nothing he could not calculate, a man who had lived and taught in the hall, and a man who distinctly wore the sign of a duelist upon his left finger.

 

The picture in the paper made both instantly anxious, but the sudden appearance of the yearbook with the complete picture and student listing of the hall made them feel worse. A hundred students all in rows, under the celluloid print, all wearing the same ring, and all destined to die in a terrible fire. The paper deemed it an accident, but neither Touga nor Juri had the strength to believe in such a lie. They saw passed it and to the man responsible.

 

"Then the chairman was not the one who-"

"Are we to believe, Touga, that he was never involved with this? We can't prove it, but do we even need to? The students that lived in that hall were searching for something, and once it was found they were no longer needed. But why doesn't anyone really remember?"

 

He took a deep breath and then stated, "Because what is forgotten can not live on. Memory is a key to immortality."

 

Juri gave him a strange sideways glance and then shrugged. A hollow feeling began to pound at her chest. It was a sensation she had not felt in months. It was not something she had felt since-

 

And a wandering hand reached up to her chest for something that was no longer there.

 

"I-I need to go."

 

"Wait, what's wrong?'

 

She shook her head, "Nothing I just...need to go."

 

He reached out for her but she slipped away. She walked but there was an expedience to her gait. It told of fear and something...Something that could not quite be placed.

 

He looked again at the miniscule monument, and he felt a chill in the warmer air around him. Standing there, looking so discreetly, upon someone so forgotten, he had an urge; it was a calling to something like his dreams. With a light and causal step he moved towards the desolate hall. It was not so far away.

 

He wanted to say he was shocked when, to his eyes, the place appeared intact. He wanted to say that, but he could not. He knew it would be complete. It was an illusion, but illusions in his experience were often more real than they ought to be...Especially on the Ohtori campus where the light and shadow always seemed to breath life into the inanimate.

 

He entered the door.

 

The vast and poorly lit entrance corridor stretched on into the distance. Chairs lined the way, and white cardboard with the picture of a hand pointing dotted along until there was a bend, and ultimately the elevator. Something in his gaze was not his own when he looked down that hallway. Something in his smile seemed rather robotic, and stiff. His blue eyes caught on a questionnaire that sat by the front desk. It had his name on it and without so much as a blink of the eye...He filled it out...He filled it out completely.

 

Don't you know they all fall down

Every prince becomes a clown

And to the wandering of their eyes

Everyone is hypnotized

By the light of wondering

By the dark of dawning

And into the depths they go

Rising, falling, calling out again

They found the space

The waiting land

They found a grave of a living man

And in that tomb buried neatly in the ground

Were the remains of a prince who'd lost his crown

But it was all lies and deceit

This prince you see was very unique

Two sides to every coin are there

Two sides vie for power, though one is unaware

And the things that die with a prince's defeat

Well, they are the trophies of the wicked's relief

 

They watched in the shadows, as much as two un-embodied beings can watch anything. The sound of their voices were all that really existed at one moment or another, briefly accompanied a splash of light, or the sound of water dripping into a still pool. It was not that they were without form. It was that, they had to let loose the physical in order to attain what was too them... an eternity.

 

They were watching Juri Arisugawa just in that moment. They clung to the darkness of the tress and shadows cast by the setting of the sun. If they had actual eyes, it might be that they were watching with great intent. They watched though and found little ways inside of the fencer, who was floating on the edge of reason.

 

"She's resisting it." The voice seemed almost proud of the effort.

 

"I told you she was strong. Besides the dreams of the others seem more like memory to her than they do to him."

 

"Well, he was absent for most of it, and then just after he came back and-"

 

"He is no longer ruled by such forces."

 

"I kno- Where is she off to?"

 

Juri stumbled and caught herself on a tree branch. She held herself there, breathing heavily. She closed her eyes and fought memory. She fought what she new had really happened. She fought what had been replaced by something different. She fought the sting of Shiori's little hands finding a way into her heart and taking what was hers.

 

All those dreamers, who were duelists for a moment, they thought they reached inside and pulled out someone's strength. They thought it was all they needed to defeat the prince. They thought the power was all there was. How could they know? How could they even begin to fathom that what they were taking was not just strength, but everything. It was everything someone was. It was all fears and hopes. It was strengths and weaknesses. It was the very soul, and the souls of duelists were powerful weapons indeed. But powerful, or no, they were souls who had already been defeated. They had already lost, and so how could they hope to win again in the hands of another?

 

She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes. She felt like she was being watched, but knew there was no one around.

 

"She senses us."

 

"She would." It was the proud voice again. "She notices a lot about others. She's only blinded to those she holds dear. She won't forgive this, not even of us." There seemed to be a sad smile that sprang up and died as the sentence moved along. It wilted on the vine of sound.

 

"But will she notice the important thing?"

 

The shadows cooled their conversations and died away into whispering winds.

 

Juri didn't want to remember. In her dreams she was told to forget, but the dreams did not want to be forgotten. And that was the thing. It was all about-

 

"Memory," she whispered. "He said it first though, 'Memory is immortality.' Memory is that thing. What you remember of someone is what makes them live on. It gives voice to the dead. And we can not forget, the memory, even if we lose the names..." She paused and released a breathy chuckle, continuing, "Because even if the name is lost, the story lives, and the souls along with it... and here is myth. Tales of princes and princesses... We remember them and they find a new kind of life... They find eternity."

 

She took a quick seat in the grass and laughed. It was such simple magic, even if she did not understand how he had done it. Such a base trick, and laughable to the last, because-

 

Her eyes went wide as the thought struck home, and the shock was enough to let something else seep through. Her vision went dark for a moment and she stood up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring. Once upon a time that ring had been destroyed by fire, she knew it somewhere deep inside, but now, to her eyes, it was pristine.

 

She slipped it onto her left finger, and a grin forced itself into being that was something a little more than wicked.

 

 

To be continued...