Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ A Twisted Couple ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Angry Love: a Twisted Couple

A few weeks later a rather excited and nervous Wakaba pleaded with me to attend a dance with her. Not as her date, but as a companion so she wouldn't feel so odd going alone. She invited Anthy along as well, but I could tell she didn't want to. She didn't like my quiet Bride, perhaps she saw Anthy as a threat to her love of Saiyonji.

He would be there of course. That almost made me decline, claim the injury too serious, but I didn't. I couldn't leave her just because I was too cowardly to face that green-haired man. So I consented and she dragged Anthy and I out shopping. I hate shopping, I hate it more than anything else. What's the point? My old clothes are as good as new ones.

Then I thought of my only nice dress and decided that I loved shopping. That pink monstrosity that Touga had sent me so long ago still rested in the depths of my closet, never to see the light of day again, or at least I hoped so. I can't believe he thought it would suit me and I can't believe I wore it. Ah well, that's in the past.

Anthy purchased a dress of deep violet silk that feel gracefully to the floor. Wakaba found a slinky black dress. I teased her about its length and helped her pick out a pair of stiletto black sandals. I thought she would fall in them, but she seemed confident in her sense of balance. I can only say that I'd fall flat on my face in two seconds if I tried to wear something like that.

I was the last one to find a dress and tried to stall as long as possible. I treated them to lunch and offered to pay for a movie, alas Wakaba grabbed me firmly by the arm and dragged me into a clothing store. I would have fought or cried except it was pointless and I'd just embarrass us all. Anthy followed faithfully never once uttering a contradictory word.

In what seemed like years later Wakaba finally deemed a dress worthy of me. I don't remember, or want to, how many dresses she forced me to try on. All I can of the experience is that if I saw another 'absolutely perfect' dress I'd hurl. The dress she approved of was a blue that was a shade darker than my eyes, or so she claimed, with an asymmetrical hem that fell in loose waves about my knees.

I made her swear not to bother me about shopping for two months. She agreed and giggled before wondering what Saiyonji would be wearing. I couldn't care less.

If he was there then so would Touga. I didn't want to see either of them now, but friendship and all that.

* * *

Have I mentioned that I hate parties? Dressing up and wearing a dress? Well, I do. The three of us, Anthy, Wakaba, and I, entered the gaudily decorated ballroom and stared, or at least Wakaba and I did. It looked more like a wedding, or funeral, than a dance. Yards of gauzy white fabric had been hung around the wall and hundreds of white balloons crowded the ceiling. We saw bunches of hot house flowers, white of course, scattered about and tied with pale blue ribbons.

"Is this the right place?" I asked. Wakaba nodded vacantly and continued to stare about. Couples twirled by in expensive gowns and tuxedoes. I felt woefully underdressed. I turned to Anthy to make sure she was all right before merging with the crowd on the sidelines.

"There he is," Wakaba giggled nervously and pointed to spot on my right. Indeed, Saiyonji stood there talking to several people I didn't know. Did he ever take off his uniform? Apparently not for he still wore it. It led me to wonder if he had an infinite supply of them or what.

"Go ask him to dance," I told her. I didn't particularly want to see her with him, but I doubted that he'd do anything violent to her in public. Besides one little dance wouldn't end the world.

"I can't, what if he says no?"

"He says no."

"I'd be so embarrassed. You ask him." I stared her in shock. Had I heard her right? "I know you don't like him, don't know why really. But please? Then tell me what it's like? Please?"

"You can't be serious?"

"Please?" I sighed in defeat and consented. One little dance wouldn't end the world my own voice mocked. Normally I wouldn't want to even look at him, much less dance with him, but the kiss-why do I keep calling it the kiss?-made it doubly worse.

"Anthy, stay close to Wakaba so you don't get lost in all these people." The purple-haired girl nodded serenely and offered Wakaba a tranquil smile. I hated to leave her side, knowing the extent of her xenophobia, but Wakaba was my friend as well. Friendship…did Anthy understand it? Or was it like everyone said. She followed the will and wants of her 'master'. I wouldn't believe that. No girl, no human wanted to be a living doll, subject to the whims of whoever held power.

"Go, before someone else asks him," Wakaba hissed shoving me lightly in his direction and breaking into my dark musings.

"I'm going." With a confidence I didn't feel I thrust my way through the writhing sea of flesh, the emerald of his hair my beacon. Sweaty arms of the dancers brushed me like clammy vines and felt the suffocating press of their ephemeral excitement. I kept telling myself that I could do this, that one dance wouldn't kill me. I hoped.

The last shifting wall of refulgent people parted and I stood in the half circle of empty floor that surrounded Saiyonji and the rest of the student council who sat there watching the dance. Miki gave me a small smile, stop watch in hand, and Juri merely cast a staid glance in my direction. Touga, fortunately, seemed to have disappeared to some place. Saiyonji regarded me with a sardonic sneer, the usual anger and resentment shinning in his eyes. I found that reassuring, if he could pretend nothing happened then so could I.

I took a fortifying breath, ignoring the rioting butterflies in my stomach, and strode towards him. I stopped a few feet away, the first tendrils of uncertainty undermining my forced confidence. I could do this. Wakaba you owe me, I thought.

"Saiyonji…"

"What do you want?" he demanded in irritation. I felt heat rush to my face from a mixture of mortification and rage. Wakaba had never considered that he might turn me down.

"Would you…would you like to dance…now?" I growled balling my hands into fists. The last word came out as more of an order than a request. A look of surprise filtered into his lavender eyes as he stared at me. Dimly I noted that Miki and Juri were staring at me in shock.

"You're asking me?"

"That's right. Yes or no?" He stood abruptly, forcing me to look up in order to meet his gaze. He glared at me, yet something indecipherable shone in his eyes. What would he say?

* * * *

Okay I'm stopping this chapter there because I'm lazy. That and I need to take a break and do something else. So I'll just post this and pick it up again later. Please review if you are so inclined.

Oh and I am planing on writing another couple of stories with different pairings for our lovely pink haired girl. Miki in Sweet Love and anyone else, no matter how unlikely or completely wrong.