Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Daddy Dearest ❯ In a Mirror Darkly ( Chapter 4 )

Utena passed the dojo and saw a cluster of sighing and droning fangirls doused in nauseating pop idol perfume, whetting acrylic talons, and fruit glassine lips, clones proudly boasting a style of her own. Magical creatures of fantasy and credulity, baubles ornamenting this chic prison. Possessive exclamations and adulatory shrieks were heard for miles, Utena stepped forward thinking nothing and feeling less knowing who the combatants were. On the far left was Saionji, gnarled evergreen pulled up into a samurai's ponytail; shinai raised above his head the more preferential position, teeth gnashed glittering at the corner of his mouth. On the conflicting side was Touga, his scarlet fall tied off at the end by a white scarf like a spoiled shogun's son; shinai situated in front of his waist. Titans of discontent and approbation, `And fucked out of their minds,' Utena reflected wading her way through the rabble that didn't require prodding, each of them preoccupied in their own little world with their chosen prince at the core of it. The vice president opened up by rushing him, the president feinted going to the left and deflected. Saionji anticipating this pivoted on his right heel catching Touga's sword at the datosubu gracefully resting all his weight on his left bent knee poised his shinai congruently with Touga's criss-crossing them, the shadows of the bamboo blades quartering their faces the propensity of evil pulling back like the rolling fog in the dueling woods. Here was a pair of 17-year-old boys dragging out a trifling row over who will pedal the bike and who will ride shotgun.

            ; `What are you doing?'

With his back to her the young man paused his bokken in midair. `Headstrikes.'

            ; `Is it fun?'

          &n bsp; `It's part of my training.' Utena smoothed her sunset-colored ruffled skirt under her thighs before seating herself on the grass. Some high shrubs sheltered them; she was confident that her auntie was still shuffling her books and papers, too busy to notice that her niece teleported from her spot on the picnic blanket. Utena could care less about her church clothes, if Yurika was going to get so upset why wasn't she allowed to bring her shorts and a tee after Sunday school? Grown-ups made no sense sometimes, and she wondered looking at this handsome older boy why did he want to be one so badly. Never once had she laid her eyes on him before but there were secrets he let slip. Not that she'd ever tell…

            ; `Your hair is so pretty.' Touga brought down his blade once more and looked at the grinning girl, chin propped up in her tiny hand heels. Was she still here? Why? His red hair reaching past his shoulder blades, at that bastard's request, lifted in the warm breeze prickling his cheek like rose thorns. She shouldn't be here and he shouldn't be speaking to her, not now at least. The timetable hadn't been set.

            ; `Do you want to learn?'

Utena was starting to her feet, `For real?' Touga crooked a finger and stretched his arms out. A unicorn wove through the white Birchwood trimming the lake. Utena's clasped hands secreted in the folds of her deep rose chiffon and taffeta skirts, she knew not to disturb the creature dipping its snout into the clear, sweet water.

          &n bsp; `Utena?' Touga approached her in a red jacket, golden braids, frogs, and plaited rose epaulets. Dios' sword sheathed at his side. She accepted his heady kiss moaning in the white sunlight. The immortal beast watched with her green eyes as tongues slid and twisted.

            ; `My prince, an omen?' Utena sighed breathless. His tongue perused her once more, teeth clicking already a discharge of fluid making the patch of silk itch caught in her rosebud from that morning's solo endeavors. Her fingers were a poor substitute, but Utena needed to see to herself or else she would do something unbecoming of her station. Arm in arm they trailed up the shimmering path to their bed to savor the animalistic thrusts at their peak to the final anointing kisses before slumber.

            ; Putting herself at risk once again approaching the frontlines, Utena manifested from the silenced onlookers ready to barge into their feud, clattering shinai and all, when she was petrified to the spot. Her heart a fist knocking high in her throat blocking the passage of air, the encroaching blackness as thick as molasses erased the afternoon sun's dusty rays disorienting her until she felt the slap of the hardwood under her cheek. “Otou-san…”

            ; They mirrored each other's smiles, the only things brighter than the star at the center of the universe. Patiently walking in step were Anthy and Miki, the tensei in a gentlemanly gesture carrying the Rose Bride's briefcase as he asked her if she might join him for a practice session in the music hall. And Anthy of course was more than happy to… as long as Utena-sama gave her consent.

            ; “Get the nurse!”

            ; “She's fainted!”

            ; “Utena!” The girls swarmed Utena. Princesses vying to wake their prince with their kisses. A stopwatch clicked and they gave Anthy and Miki a wide berth.

            ; “Utena-sama!” Anthy immediately flew to her champion's side gingerly pushing away the towel and rattan rack that was knocked down when Utena had fallen. Miki shouted instructions into his cell for the clinic to send up a gurney. “Utena-sama… Utena-sama…?”

Utena unable or unwilling to open her eyes breathed a ragged breath. “Otou-san…” It was a luscious freefall, melting then dissolving at last into moonlight splashing through a church's stained glass window above the altar. The final act of the passion play, and the curtain was going up.

            ; “Utena… Utena… Oi Tenjou!”

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; “Nani?!” A jeep barreled down the inclined asphalt causing Utena to shove away from the guardrail.

            ; “Did you have a nice time?”

            ; “Eh?” Utena's vision failed to refocus and she unsure about this new voice.

            ; “I said did you have a nice time?”

            ; “Nice time?” She rubbed her eyes finding it difficult since she was fisting a briefcase. “Where did I go?”

            ; “Wherever you went.” She looked at her two companions, both in uniforms indigenous to the assortment of high schools in Tokyo. It was then she realized she donned one as well. The modest pleated skirt was maroon as was the matching blazer, a charcoal cotton vest and under it a crisp white blouse. The school's insignia gold and dark navy emblazoned the right breast pocket. Swinging from the metal joint on her briefcase was a keychain that looked something like Chu-Chu. Utena shrank back uneasily not recognizing her friends. “Utena?”

            ; “What?” She snapped.

            ; “Daijoubu? You look lost.” The girl wore a gold barrette splitting the part in her chin length jet-black hair on the left side. She drew out a coconut sprinkled Pocky stick with her teeth and munched it without once using her fingers. The boy unmindful of the women around him tapped the liquid crystal screen of his Palm Pilot with his stubby plastic pen zealously. His hair was neatly trimmed and his titanium frames flashed alive from the reflecting sun. His grey slacks had straight razor creases and his black tie was pressed.

            ; “Kaido…?” Utena croaked, bringing her fingers to her lips.

            ; “Eh?” He rejoined reality. They continued walking to an unknown destination, perhaps they knew but Utena knew better than to question. The girl latched onto Kaido's arm chattered incessantly with her boyfriend who grinned and nodded on cue and Utena on her left silent. And there they were, three ordinary friends walking home on an ordinary afternoon, on an ordinary street, in front of an ordinary house, in ordinary Tokyo.

            ; “Ja Utena!” Kaido waved.

            ; “See you on Monday!” The girl twittered and they continued walking down the hill. Utena turned to see a nameplate read TENJOU on the black letterbox with oxidized corners stuffed to the gills with junk mail. She furled the bulky interior design magazine around the car insurance cards, exceedingly high interest rate credit card applications, and CD club ads and walked through the front gate. Utena didn't feel her brown penny loafers slide off. The waxed floor squeaked under her socked feet as she indecisively mounted the raised step where she was greeted by embracing aromas wafting from the kitchen and the sounds of routines muddling her senses. She admired herself for a moment in the front hall mirror peering into the living room done in subtle tones of cream, navy, and sienna. The sheer white drapes whispered amongst themselves, surely Utena's name was mentioned. A taupe and grey diamond patterned duvet cast over the back of the damask sofa, on the yellow glass coffee table stood a vase of gardenias with leaves beginning to shrivel, and a deep black leather armchair by the hearth had a man's trench coat draped across the arms.

            ; A blend of Chinese eggplant, mushrooms, scallions, and bamboo chutes, and carrots hissed and sizzled stridently after being tossed into an electric wok filled with long rice and clear olive oil. A woman paced back and forth between a mixing bowl and several boiling copper pots. The cordless wedged between her shoulder and chin inattentive to her secretary's blaring watched the oil spatter onto her satin cuffs. Her blonde hair brushed her waist in graceful waves, Utena once seen a graduation photo of the Chairman's daughter Ohtori Kanae in a glass display in the Hall of Alumni Honorees. The woman's stylish deportment bore echoes of Kanae-san but it seemed more innate and delicate, versus the rich girl's artifice of gentility.

            ; “…Hai… I found the tickets in my attaché; sorry I blew up at you. I'm just trying to get dinner ready and the dry cleaning hasn't gotten picked up yet-” A pot lid danced from the unstable steam before she removed it, lowered the flame then saw Utena in the archway. “Ara! Utena… eh? My daughter just came home. I know I want the projections for the third quarter finalized by Monday morning- first thing. Right, bye.” Her mother, Utena assumed, folded melted fudge and chopped walnuts into cream then set it aside to open the oven. “Utena did you pick up the mail?” Utena held her arm out robotically. “Thank you sweetie.” Her mother set a Pyrex plate over the steaming bunt mold and flipped it over sliding the cake out. It smelled so good. “This has to cool… your father just came home and has to pick up the dry cleaning, where are those tickets?” Tossing the oven mitts into the sink she plucked two scraps of folded white and faded pink printouts from a plastic green clip attached to a white board with a list of chores under the heading THINGS TO DO. “Why don't you give these to him and go do your homework because dinner will be a little early tonight.” She took the receipts from her mother and climbed the stairs. The master bedroom door was open and she saw a man unpacking a suitcase at the same time typing on a PC, gathering herself Utena rapped gently on the walnut door.

            ; “Hmm? Utena!” Her father had close-cropped pink hair, ruddy eyes, and dimples like Aunt Yurika.

            ; “Otou-san…” His footprints were set deep into her subconscious only then did the salty sea pull back and let them resurface when she inhaled the spiciness hidden on her father's flesh. “Otou-san!” She wrapped her arms about his chest in a vise grip bracing for the fall back into the abyss. “Where did you go?” She rasped. “Why did you leave me?”

            ; “I hate the trips just as much as you do, Little Bear. Daddy's job comes first at times, but it's important that you see things to the end when you make a commitment. Didn't I already teach you that?” Utena sniffed loudly swiping the back of her hand across her nose. “But Daddy's here and he's not leaving.”

            ; “Otou-san…”

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Utena was at sixes and sevens. The desk she sat at belonged to a dead girl, or was it a girl who fancied herself dead wearing a rose colored blindfold groping through the hordes trapped in Ohtori. Ohtori… was that truly a dream? And what of the prince? Her uniform blazer joined her other clothes hanging in the closet. She peeled off her socks and pulled out her shirttails. When Utena unbuttoned her blouse she became even more paranoid finding Juri's golden rose at her throat. It was also apparent that it was the only piece of jewelry she wore, her signet ring was not present on her left hand. When did Juri give the locket to her? Or did Juri exist in the first place? Himemiya? Miki? Saionji… Touga? Padding down the back stairwell no louder than a cat traipsing through a puddle she found a baby grand piano in the den, the exact one as Miki practiced on in the music room compulsively, praying Kozue might have a change of heart.

            ; In the yard was a white pergola, rose vines lovingly coiled up the columns. The white wrought iron patio furniture beneath the rose smoked glass roof had a fresh coat of paint. And the bushes carried roses of every color. Exhaling a breath she'd been holding since she was six, Utena sat on the pergola's step and sobbed into her hands. The duels, the prince, and Himemiya were all her imagination gone horribly wrong. Her heart fell to her feet at the thought of celebrating Himemiya's non-existence but was it not better that Himemiya not be real rather than be a sacrifice to the Rose Seal?

            ; Utena's mother served beef curry, most of which Utena pushed around her plate and the few morsels she was able to swallow she couldn't taste. Ohtori's cafeteria menu put a good number of Japan's five star restaurants to shame.

            ; “Utena,” her mother interrupted her daughter's mental merry go round.

            ; “Hai?”

Her mother took a sip of white wine. “What time is Chieko picking you up tonight?”

            ; “Chieko…?” She replayed the shorthaired girl's bubbly farewell when she and Kaido dropped her off.

            ; “You are spending the weekend with her, aren't you?” `See you on Monday!'  At the foot of her pink and purple bed sat a white canvas gym bag. Expecting to find her team uniform or a sweat suit instead inside was an outfit. A cotton pink blouse with a risqué V-neck décolletage, a flared white skirt, and white Gucci slingbacks that put a few inches on her height. Chieko was obviously covering for her as she spent the weekend with her lover. An hour later her parents were dressed to the nines: her father in a black tuxedo with coattails and her mother in a royal blue crepe gown. Tiny spaghetti straps hugged her shoulders, her blonde hair wound about her head set with tiny crystal blue butterflies. Her gaijin clients were meeting them at the Budokhan for the opening night of La Boheme, and since they were Glaswegians it would only be appropriate to have a drink afterwards. “We should be home by one- two at the latest.” She stepped into a pair of jeweled pumps, Utena handed her a sequined clutch bag.

            ; “When you get to Chieko's just leave a message,” her father said wetting his fingertips bending them along the inside arch of his polished left shoe. He kissed the top of Utena's head. “Have a nice time.”

            ; “I will. Good night!” She waved until the red taillights on the silver Cadillac liquefied into the darkness. In the kitchen once more Utena tapped the locket weighing the outcome sensing something skirting betrayal. Betrayal of what, her mind rallied. A ghost? Something less? Stroking the fingers of her left hand she wished that her prince's gift were there to comfort her as it had done in the past.

            ; `What's your name?'

          &n bsp; `Tenjou Utena.'

          &n bsp; `Tenjou Utena… I think I could be falling for you.'

          &n bsp; `Oi! Mr. President! Don't get cute with me!'

`HA! HA! HA!'

She pushed herself from the table, the steel legs under the Brentwood chair screeched on the coral linoleum only hearing the gates rolling back upon her entrance to the dueling arena. Touga was right during their last duel, she was not a particularly gifted fighter. Her style was amateurish but because of Dios' sword her dangerous winning streak foresaw no break. She never got a chance to ask Miki about the letters from Sekai no Hate, another mystery her unchained psyche conjured never to be solved. She was glad of it. Utena rinsed and dried a tall plastic tumbler, went over to the ice dispenser on the freezer door and pushed the metal lever back for the cubes to rattle down. On the bottom shelf in the fridge was an unopened case of Coke, she stripped off the perforated band and rolled a red aluminum can on the counter. She crooked her right index finger and jammed it sideways into her mouth and bit, a habit Utena was never able to break since childhood. She was back in the dueling woods searching for the entrance to the arena and all she could find were ruins from a golden age. Broken columns, lost swords, standing stones angling out of the earth and at the very heart of it was the effigy of Himemiya. Utena was only able to identify her friend by the sculpted Rose Bride gown, crowning the figure was a neck stump.

            ; `Why couldn't you trust me?! I only wanted to be your friend! The only time I was truly happy was when I was with you…'

 

 

            ; TSUZUKU