Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Happy White Day, Saionji! ❯ Happy White Day Saionji! ( Chapter 1 )

Happy White Day, Saionji

By: Melissa

Disclaimer: I don‘t own Revolutionary Girl Utena. (That’s a shock and a half, right? ^_~)

Author’s Note: This takes place in the anime and it expresses the relationship of Wakaba and Saionji in the anime. So it’s a Wakaba X Saionji fanfic. This is also a White Day/Valentine’s Day fanfic. This is my first Utena fanfic so please be gentle. I am a Saionji fan and you know, in Utena you can put anyone with anyone. For the FYI, people I do like Saionji and Touga too ^^; So many couples. Just a note, don’t flame if you don’t like it, it highly annoys me.

First, a quick explanation: White Day, which falls on March 14th, is the day you give gifts to the people who gave you Valentines. It’s a Japanese holiday.

Anyway, this is a beautiful song called ‘And So It Goes’, originally done by Billy Joel. I’m using the lyrics from the SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, base) a cappella version for ‘Vocal Jazz’. I think all the words are the same, but if they’re not, or I’m missing a verse or two, that’s why. ^_^;

Please enjoy!

~*~

*

*

*

~Happy White Day, Saionji~

-Saionji’s PoV-

*

*

*

In every heart

There is a room

A sanctuary safe and strong

To heal the wounds

From lovers past

Until a new one comes along

*

“Hey, Saionji?”

I grunt a response, not bothering to look up at Wakaba as she continues to shuffle through countless pink papers. Instead I ignore her, replacing the sound of the rustling parchment with the gentle rushing of the river beside us. Picking a few, smooth, rounded stones off of the riverbed, I begin to flick them listlessly into the crystal blue waters.

“Can you help me?” She asks, holding out half of her pile and glancing at me with a hopeful expression. I regard her rather coldly, wrinkling my nose at the perfume wafting from the papers.

“What the hell are they?” I question slowly, making no move to take the scented notes. “They smell like sardines.”

A flash of hurt annoyance flickers through her chocolate eyes.

. . .

Whenever she wears that empty expression- even if just for a moment. . .

It. . .

Reminds me of. . .

. . .

“They’re white day cards,” She explains, quickly regaining her perky edge and stuffing the cards into my hands. “I need you to help me put these heart-shaped stickers on them.”

“What are they for?” I inquire slowly, flipping through them and glancing at the names. At the moment I sort of wish that I couldn’t read, considering all the names in my hands quite obviously belonged to other men.

I spoke to you

In cautious tones

“You give them to people who gave you Valentine’s gifts,” Wakaba replies, making a few smiley faces on a card with a pink pen.

You answered me with no pretense

“Why?” I grind my teeth, eyes locked on the thick packet of parchment in my hands as I work to swallow an all-out growl. Jealousy courses through me like a poison, infecting all my thoughts and actions. Why was she giving things to other males?!

“They’re to say ‘thank you’ and all that,” She beams, but quickly frowns as I round on her.

“No! Why are they all to MEN?!!” I snap, clawed fingers pointing roughly to the many crisp, neat kanji symbols on the cards. And why isn’t *my* name on one. . . ?! Don’t *I* deserve a card?! My heart pounds painfully, throbbing as if it’s been stabbed.

It feels like it has been- by betrayal. Wakaba should be *mine*!

. . .

Even if she doesn’t know it yet.

She glares coldly at my rudeness, her hand clenching the material of her fuku- completely oblivious to how these cards are hurting me. “Because they’re the ones who gave me Valentines...”

“Yeah, right..” I snarl, flicking the papers away and allowing them to float on the breeze as Wakaba gapes, open-mouthed. “You’re just flirting with them or something..” The mere prospect of which makes me want to kill something.

“What!? I don’t even know many of them all that well..” She retorts, her voice remaining the same . “And besides, even if that were true- why do YOU care?!”

A growl reverberates in the back of my throat. “Because, stupid.. I- - -”

!

I bite my tongue, mentally smacking myself for my big mouth and my stupidity.

I almost said it. . .

She arches an eyebrow as I turn away, avoiding her gaze. I almost said it- - -! Idiot, idiot, idiot!

“What was that?” She presses quietly, a warning tone laced into her voice. “‘I’ what. . . ?”

“Nothing,” I snap, flexing my fingers in irritation. “Nothing at all.”

And still I feel

I said too much

“Saionji. . .” She tries again, a little gentler than before. “What were you saying?”

I don’t reply. Instead, I stare silently at the sky.

My silence is my self-defense

“Saionji, please- talk to me.”

Still, I don’t answer. What could I say? ‘Wakaba, just a moment ago I almost shouted how I’ve slowly began to be attracted to you during the course of time that I’ve been in your care?” Yeah right! Besides- She doesn’t want to hear that shit- she’s got to many suitors back ‘AT SCHOOL’ to think about!

“Saionji, what’s wrong?” Wakaba tries for a third time, never suspecting the thoughts that are going through my head. “Why won’t you talk to me? What did I ever do to you?” She replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

What did she ever do to me. . . ? My eye twitches slightly in irritation. That does it.

“Saion- - - !”

“Shut up!” I roar, getting to my feet in a huff. “Just shut up and give your stupid cards to the god-damn morons wherever they are! AND STAY THERE, WHILE YOU’RE AT IT!” She might as well if those fools over there are all she can think about.

She stares, wide-eyed, at me for a moment- totally taken aback- before beginning to tremble- - -

With rage.

“What is your problem?!” She yells with a tinge of anger, standing and putting her hands on her hips; looking up at me with fury filled brown orbs.

“I’m simply sick of hearing you gush about other men!”

“I am not gushing! Besides, I repeat would you care, even if I was?!”

I fall silent again, not wanting to answer that question. However, I don’t back down in the slightest- instead I lock fiery gazes with her and refuse to blink. Eventually her eyes become so dry she has to, and accompanies said blinking with a loud ‘Humph!’.

“I don’t know why I even bother with your jealousy, it‘s not like you don‘t have Anthy” Wakaba grumbles, flopping back to the ground- - - as I freeze. She knows I’m jealous. . . ? “It’s so dumb, especially when you keep chasing after Anthy.”

!

“What does Anthy have to do with anything?” I snarl in warning tones. Wakaba glares icily at me from over her shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid, Saionji. You get so jealous when I talk to other guys and then the next minute you run off to her.”

A bon-fire of irritation burst to life inside me.

“What?! I am not jealous and I do not *always* run off to Anthy.”

“You do too!” She snarls. “And it’s beginning to annoy me!”

“I’m sure not as much as you annoy me!” I bark, my mouth running amuck as my brain screams that I should shut up. But, just like the fool I know I can many times be (not that I’ll admit that to anyone), I don’t listen. “All you do is flirt, flirt, flirt!”

“That is not true. Just because I’m nice to them, doesn’t mean I flirt!”

“It is true!”

“Well, at least you have Anthy to make up for that, right?” Wakaba screams, her eyes screwed shut in anger.

“At least Anthy isn’t annoying like you!” I yell just as loudly, turning away and storming off. “Maybe I should run off with her-so you can run back to all of those love sick fools who gave you gifts?!”

I can feel her eyes piercing my back as I leave, but she doesn’t make a sound.

I don’t see her for the rest of the day.

*

I can tell something odd is going on a soon as I awaken the next morning. It’s not that I can see it- not with my eyes still closed and all. And it’s not that I can taste it or feel it or hear it.

I can smell it. Something different, and yet. . .

I’m used to waking up in the mornings with sweet smell of floral plumeria tickling my nose- the unique scent that always wafts from Wakaba. I savor that smell- especially at the break of dawn. The air is already so fresh at sunrise that her scent always seemed twice as wonderful. For the past three weeks I’ve spent every waking moment trying to figure out a way to keep that stench with me at all times, even when Wakaba’s gone.

But I’ve failed.

Even stealing one of her blouses didn’t help. Without its owner to restock the quickly lost scent, the smell eventually fades to nothingness.

The only way I can think of is to keep Wakaba with me. But. . .

. . .

I don’t want to hurt again. Maybe that’s why I start so many fights. A stupid belief that ‘sure, a fight may hurt the soul and heart now, but then I’ll be ready for the big blow- when she leaves forever- and it won’t hurt so much’. But. . . Maybe I’m just driving her away . . . ? I don’t want to feel that burning ache in my heart anymore- so why am I purposely inflicting it? Perhaps if I tell her. . .

No, then she’ll only laugh and avoid me.

. . .

After a few groggy moments that I’m not at all familiar with (considering I rarely ever sleep), I manage to pry my heavy lidded eyes open to look around for the source of the sweet, familiarly unfamiliar smell. I can almost taste the delicious plumeria of Wakaba, but. . .

Why do I also smell rose?

I learn why as soon as I open my eyes. Sitting on my chest, silky petals almost touching my nose, is a blood-red rose.

?

Sitting up carefully and bracing my back against the tree trunk I’m up against, I reposition myself on the floor- wincing as a thorn pricks my thumb.

And every time

I’ve held a rose

It seems I only feel the thorns

Cradling the blossom gently, I examine the flower with narrowed eyes. Where did it come from? What’s it for? Why is there a note tied to it’s stem. . . ?

Maybe that note will have the answers.

Carefully lifting a finger, I slit the red ribbon that links the flower and card. No problem. Unfolding the thin, fragile, pink paper, I begin to read with curiosity.

*Dear Saionji,

Happy White Day! You didn’t get me a Valentine last month, but I wanted to do something special for you anyway. I hope you like roses. They smell better than sardines, right?*

I can’t stop myself from giving a guilty little squirm. I guess it didn’t really smell *that* bad. . .

*Anyway, by the time you read this, I’ll be back at school. I guess there’s just not enough space around here for two women, huh? Especially when one is such a bitch, like me. Give Anthy my best, next time you see her. I’m sure she’ll be glad to know I’m gone.*

Gone. . . ?

And so it goes

And so it goes

And so will you I suppose

*Yes, that’s right, I’m gone. And I’m not coming back. At least, not for a long while. I need a break from all this. I need a break from you.

From your inability to trust me.*

But. . .

I *do* trust you, Wakaba! Why is she saying this- - - ?

. . .

But if my silence made you leave

Then that would be my worst mistake

*Why can’t you just tell me what’s on your mind? If you did, we wouldn’t fight so much. Well, okay, we’d probably find something else to fight over, but all the same. . .

Oh- before I forget. I just thought I’d mention that I’ve decided not to give out my other white day cards. Hope you appreciate that.

Good bye.

Love Always, Wakaba*

I blink slowly down at the letter, my hands shaking slightly as I clutch my rose.

She isn’t going to give the other cards. . . ? Because of me?

Could she. . .

Could she actually. . .

Like me the way I like her. . . ? Is that her way to show she cares?

I slowly begin to get to my feet- - -

!

When I catch myself and realize what I’m thinking.

No! I can’t tell her that I love her! Not after she just decided to leave! Besides- just because she said she’s not to give the other cards doesn’t tell me anything! She may have just run out of time or something!

But . . .

I swallow hard, looking down at the innocent blossom in my hands- the one that contains just a hint of floral plumeria.

. . .

I dash towards the direction she went in.

This may be romantic suicide, but. . .

There’s only one way to find out. (To my knowledge, at least.)

So I will share

This room with you

And you may have this heart to break

*

She’s sitting in her room when I get there, reading a book silently at her desk. But by the glitter of tears in her eyes I can tell she doesn’t really have her heart in her reading. I perch myself just outside her window, watching her. My courage to burst in and tell her my feelings has pretty much failed me, despite the fact that I *should* have loads and loads of it. Well, there’s a difference between ‘spilling-your-guts-in-a- battle’ courage and ‘spilling-your-guts-to-your-love’ courage.

I sigh silently, leaning back against the wall of the building and closing my eyes.

Maybe I *shouldn’t* tell her. . . If I left now, she’d never know I was here.

Yeah. . .

Perhaps I should just let her cool down and come back when she’s ready.

But. . .

She thinks I don’t trust her. And. . .

I don’t want her to doubt our bond. After all, it was that lack of trust that killed Anthy and I. . . That broke my heart for the first time. . .

And this is why

My eyes are closed

It’s just as well with all I’ve seen

“Oh, I give up!!!”

This outburst yanks me back into reality faster than the student council can have a meeting. Opening my eyes, I watch curiously as Wakaba closes her book in frustration; falling back on her bed with a loud sigh.

“I wonder if he’s gotten my note yet. . .” She muses out loud. Then she snorts softly in amusement. “Of course he has- he’s not a late sleeper and it’s nearly two in the afternoon.” She sighs again, rolling on to her side and picking up a rose, stroking it’s petals in a rather loving fashion. She giggles slightly as she does so, evidently remembering some of my not-so-graceful moments. Like when I scramble away when someone almost found out I was staying with her. . .

I sweat drop slightly in exasperation. She can’t remember my heroic moments. Oh, no- she has to remember my freaking out at things. . .

“Oh, Saionji. . .” She whispers, setting the alarm clock back on her nightstand. “After all the times you’ve told me similar things. . . I can’t help but wonder if you really meant all that. . . Am I really that much of a bit- - - ?”

She jumps and gasps in shock as her tree branches clank together with a loud clatter. “What the- - -?”

But her voice suddenly dies as she sees me, crouched calmly next to her bed.

“S-Saionji. . . ?” She gapes, clutching her pillow tightly to her chest and instinctively scooting into the corner.

“No,” I say seriously, looking straight into her surprised chocolate eyes. “You’re not a bitch. “

And so it goes

And go it goes

And you’re the only one who knows

“Saionji,” Wakaba chokes, so shocked to see me that I begin to feel a little uncomfortable. “What’re you doing here- - -?”

I open my mouth to speak- - -

Shit.

There goes my courage again.

Grumbling quietly I get to my feet, sitting next to her on the bed and crossing my legs in my usual arrogant style. If I only felt as sure of myself as I looked.

“I came to. . . I dunno, thank you for not giving those assholes your cards. . . and stuff.”

“And. . . stuff,” She repeats slowly, her cheeks a little pinker than usual.

“Yeah. Stuff,” I shrug. “Like. . . Um. . .” My hand clutches the rose tightly, oblivious to the cutting thorns. I had not released it for even a second since I first received it. “Tell you what I wouldn’t tell you earlier. . .”

“Oh?” She breathes, her voice so soft and timid that I’m afraid I might break her if I talk too loudly.

“Uh. . . yeah,” I press on, wishing that I had a little more confidence with matters like this. “You see, the thing is. . . er. . . Well, you know yesterday, when you asked why I cared. . . I. . . well, uh. . . That is, I. . . Oh, hell!” I snap, irritated at myself beyond all belief. “I love you, okay? That’s what I was gonna say- and that’s why I care if you give those stupid cards to other guys. I love you, damn it! And I don’t love Anthy! Not anymore, at least.”

Wakaba’s wide eyes widened even more as she blinks in surprise.

“Sure, I care about her, we do have a history and all but- aw, fuck, now I’m just blabbering. Look, the point is that I love you and I care about you and I trust you and all that crap. I’ve loved you ever since you‘ve been caring for me. I like it when you’re with me, and I want you to stay with me. Forever. Well- for as long as we both live. Oh- And come back. Don’t stay by yourself in this stupid building. So- - - hey, are you laughing at me?”

So I would choose

To be with you

That’s if the choice were mine to make

But you can make

Decisions too

And you can have this heart to break

Yup.

That’s what she was doing. Wakaba, tears pouring down her cheeks like twin rivers, was laughing so hard that she had to fall against me for support.

I knew it.

“What’s so funny?” I grumble, my cheeks beginning to flame in utter embarrassment. I knew she’d laugh.

“You are!” She snickers, wrapping her arms around my waist before breaking down again.

“Look,” I mumble, annoyed, “if you don’t feel the same, whatever- but you don’t have to la - - -”

But I am cut off quite suddenly by her lips covering mine; her plumeria- scented body pressed so close to me she has practically become a blanket.

“Shut up,” She whispers with a smile as she slowly pulls away. “I never said I don’t love you. If I did, I’d be lying.”

. . . ?

So. . .

She- she does . . . ?!

Her ears begin to redden as I wrap my arms around her middle, pulling her into my lap with a coy smile blossoming on my face.

“Oh?” I arch an eyebrow, suddenly filled with courage. “So what you’re trying to say is. . . ?”

“I love you, Saionji,” She replied, lifting a hand and rubbing one of my ears. “You and your stupid romantic blunders. You’re really rather pathetically cute, you know that?”

“Are you calling me pathetic?” I ask, seductively as I poke her ticklish sides.

“Yes, I am,” She replies honestly, trying to bite back another laugh.

“Hmpf. I’ll show you ‘pathetic’,” I smirk, resting my forehead against hers. “When you’re pathetically trying to gasp for breath when I’m done kissing you.”

She shivers involuntarily as her blush darkens and her lashes quiver with excitement. By the way she’s already leaning closer, her lips lightly pressed to mine, I’d say she’s more than ready to take up my offer.

“Okay. Show me pathetic,” She smiles, locking her arms around my neck.

“Only if you promise to come back with me,” I demand, gently running my hands through her hair.

“I promise,” She vows, trailing her fingers over my cheeks.

“And you won’t break my trust?”

“Never,” She replies seriously. “Now- kiss me before I’m forced to bring you down myself.”

I grace her with an amused grin before fulfilling her request.

God, I love you, Wakaba.

And so it goes

And so it goes

And you’re the only one who knows. . .

~*~

Well, that was my first Utena fan fiction. I hope it’s all right. T_T I really try to avoid OOC and I hate it with a passion.

This was basically a ‘what if’ situation. It went like this, “What if Saionji started to feel different towards Wakaba?” I think this may even be the first Wakaba/Saionji fic on fanfiction.net. Very very strange.... Oh well, it’s an improvement right? Something original for once ^_^ But I suppose that’s me, original for you. This fic was inspired by my friend Anna, a.k.a Inu-Inu on ff.net.

Please R&R and tell me how I did, even if it IS just a “good job” review, all of them matter to me.