Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ No Rock to Cling to ❯ From the Mouth of the Dead ( Chapter 10 )

I do not own Revolutionary Girl Utena, or any of the characters that are involved in it. Shoujo Kakumei Utena - la fillette revolutionnaire -" is a copyrighted work. (C) Be-PaPas, Chiho Saito / Shogakukan, Shokaku Iinkai, TV Tokyo. All references and poetry that I did not create belong to their respective owners. All original characters, poetry, and song lyrics that belong to me should not be used without express permission and notification. Thank you.

 

 

 

No Rock to Cling To: From the Mouth of the Dead

 

 

“This place is creepy, and I don't want to be here.” Wakaba stated bluntly as soon as they had all piled out of Touga's limo. Kozue had her arm in both of Anthy's hands, a green glow emanating from them. When her arm was released she tested it gingerly. Then a grin proclaimed her pleasure. The arm felt better than new! All of her bruises and cuts, the raw marks from the ropes and handcuffs that had been used on her, all were gone like a distant dream! She had a glint back to her blue eyes, and a smirk back on her lips. “Thanks Himemiya! I feel like a woman again.” The short haired woman smirked as Anthy gave her a small bow. “Of course.” Anthy then went to tend to Touga.

 

Alone, Kozue stepped away from the rest of the group to gaze up at the monolithic structure before them. Nemuro Hall...it sent a chill down everyone's collective spines. Kozue bared her teeth at it ferally and turned away. She wasn't going to let some decrepit old building get to her. No, she was far more concerned about the looming school campus, visible against the twilight. That place...she thought she would never have to look upon that place again.

 

Her brow twitched in annoyance and she rejoined the group, where Anthy was answering some asked question.

 

“Yes, we have no need to enter the school grounds themselves, so you needn't worry about that.”

 

“But we are entering here, which is just on the fringe of Ohtori?” Saionji's voice was tinged with accusation. He was cupping his ear still, even after Anthy had healed the damage. The memory was still too fresh and raw. Anthy sighed.

 

“Yes...it is necessary. We must go here in order to find a means to stop the Thousand Swords.” She too looked up into the night, to see the dull gray building that arched high overhead. It was crumbling into rubble in several places, the stair and once grand archways little more than broken mortar. Sad really...all things beautiful are fated to end as nothing more than a dusty memory. Nemuro Memorial Hall was no different of course.

 

Wakaba frowned as she looked up at it. “I remember...I remember coming here a long time ago. I met a man here, who made me.... do things...” She trailed off uncomfortably as she felt the weight of stares turned her way. She shrugged to herself and looked away from them all. “I was...very angry...hurt...he made me feel better for a little while. Funny. I can recall everything before and after, but like...I can't really remember him.” She looked troubled by this. Anthy looked over at Kozue who had her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Shiori was holding Juri's hand looking deep in thought. And Anthy knew that they too were having the same difficulty. She paused before answering the unspoken question.

 

“Your memories...were confined. No, tampered with after Utena won the Final Duel. It was meant to leave you happier...to make you forget the bad things.” Anthy held herself, feeling a sudden chill in the night air. Her simple blouse wasn't very much protection against the cold. But she welcomed the humanizing sensation.

 

“Utena I believe, desired your freedom from Ohtori. Your past would have interfered, acted as shackles. You did not remember anything about the duels or of the castle in the sky for years until you saw Ten...yes?”

 

There were nods from several heads, as the ex-duelists watched her in rapt attention.

 

“But, in the case of the Black Rose Duels, that particular experiment...was not entirely under our influence.”

 

“What do you mean? You and Akio had no control over them?” Juri's arched brow spoke louder than words her suspicions of that belief. Anthy had to smile. And to Touga's discomfort, that small smile looked just a tad smug.

 

“There was nothing at Ohtori that I and my brother did not have control over.”

 

“Then what did you mean, `not entirely under you influence'.”

 

Anthy sighed and looked away. “We had control over Mikage and his interviews; we simply...did not influence them ourselves. After his final failure, we banished Mikage back to the realm he belonged to. But his duels were not based upon the duelists themselves, as ours were. They were based on a strong dark desire inborn in the human psyche, to keep the world around them from changing. To keep everything.... Eternal.” Anthy shrugged.

 

“You all fought as duelists to seek a revolution for things that you sought to change, but Mikage was merely a shadow...and as a shadow he and his duelists fought to cling to memories and wasted desires. It is from those memories he gained his own bit of power. As well as his origins...”

 

Touga crossed his arms, to mirror her. His designer suit crinkled ever so lightly at the bends of his elbows, throwing shadows down his forearms. The moon above them was waxing coldly from its crescent shape, offering scant light to see. “His origins?”

Anthy's eyes seemed to gleam a curious green for a moment, like a cat. It reminded more than one person of her darker brother. “Yes. Mikage is and was...dead.”

 

That made them all shiver, as the gazed as one up at the lonely stone structure. Now they seemed to hear the whispers of ghosts....could imagine those shadows possibly being eyes...feel a pressure at the base of their shoulders. Wakaba looked to be on the verge of tears. “S-so if that guy's d-dead...why are we going in there? Why'd ya call this a `place of greatness' or whatever?”

 

Anthy smiled gently at her. “It is a `place of power'...and we are going here to ask Mikage some questions.”

 

Touga's red mane sparkled in the dimmed headlights of the limo, which was still purring quietly behind him. “So...we are going to commune with the dead?”

 

Anthy's eyes darkened as her smile slipped away.

 

“Exactly.”

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

 

Footsteps clacked and echoed off the walls, making curtains of dust-covered cobwebs wave silently back and forth. Their ghostly movements were like fronds under the ocean, a rhythmic back-and-forth motion that drew the eye. All around the group of men and women there were cracked bricks showing up through the wood paneling. Overhead amidst the shadowed alcoves there were places where pieces of the ceiling were gone, allowing pale moonlight to shine down from the sky above. But over all, there was darkness.

 

Kozue was bringing up the rear, with Touga in the middle and Anthy taking point. The reasoning had been that both Kozue and Touga had lighters from their smoking habits. And Anthy apparently kept flashlights in her pocket. No one had asked. So with their scant light, the seven headed down the long dark corridor to where an elevator waited. The doors had been melted in what looked like an old fire. Juri frowned as she walked up to one side of the elevator. Her fingertips brushed what she had originally thought was empty space. Only to find those `shadows' come away on her fingers. She brought her two fingers back up for closer inspection.

 

“Ash. The button for the elevator is coated in ash and debris. Does this elevator even work any more?” She turned to Anthy to ask. Anthy shook her head in negative. Shiori stepped closer to her lover, taking her hand in her own for comfort. This place really was creepy...

 

“Hmmm...we'll need to find another way down.” Saionji mused, stroking his bearded chin. His short green ponytail swished against his collar as he moved to one side of the hall. He ran hands along the wall.

 

“What are you doing?” Wakaba asked with a touch of impatience. It was the first time she had addressed him directly. Not even when she had held him in her arms during the limo ride. It would seem that the temporary truce that grief and fear had brought on, was now gone. Kozue arched a brow in interest at the tension between them. My, how entertaining...what could have happened between those two? The last time she had seen Kyouichi and Shinohara, they had been planning the day they would sign the Japanese registry together. And uncharacteristically, Kyouichi certainly looked uncomfortable. Kozue Kaoru, in her borrowed suit jacket and leather miniskirt, wasn't the only one to notice the couple's awkwardness.

 

Saionji frowned as he turned to glance at his fiancée, “I'm looking for a door. Surely there'd have to be stairs somewhere. We can take those instead of the elevator.”

 

Touga's voice was a gentle reminder, “Yes...but those stair most likely wouldn't be very safe. The fire would have either weakened their foundations or destroyed them completely.”

 

Wakaba snorted quietly as she folded her arms and added, “Idiot.”

 

Saionji huffed and took a step toward her, “And what are we supposed to do then? If the elevator is out and we can't use the stairs, what other options have we?!” His temper flared.

 

Wakaba marched right up to him, getting into his face as she growled angrily, “Don't you yell at me, buster! This wasn't my stupid idea. I don't even want to be here, this place brings back too many horrible memories!”

 

Touga and Juri tried to intervene, pushing them back away from each other by the shoulders as Saionji's fists clenched. The two glared at each other hotly, their voices rising.

 

“Just because you're chickening out over ghost stories, doesn't mean you can just say whatever you want! We're trying to find a way to beat those damn swords!”

 

“In a stupid old building?! How retarded is that?!”

 

“Memories are just memories, why do you have to let them interfere with the present?!”

 

“But it's because of you that I have those memories!”

 

Saionji threw his hands in the air in exasperation, as the group watched in fascination. “You said that last night, I don't even know what you're talking about!”

 

Wakaba's eyes suddenly began to stream in angry tears as her dainty fists clenched. “It's because of YOU!!” She choked on a sob as she looked down at her right hand. Her fingers uncurled from the white-knuckled fist, to remain limp at her side. When she looked back up, her brown bangs were mused and getting in her eyes, her face contorted with pain. “I-it's.....it's all because of you, Sai-chan...” Her voice broke sadly. Saionji hesitated before reaching out a hand to her, but she jerked away from him and moved to stand alone in the shadows by the elevator. Her shoulders shook, the only indication that she was holding back a sob. After a moment, her low voice drifted over to the group, who looked as though they wished they could give the two some privacy.

 

“This...this place...that day you rejected me, after I had hidden you in my room for so long...when you gave that hair clip to Anthy...I...I came here.” A sniff, as Wakaba kept her back turned. Saionji was clenching his fists again, looking mournful. Desperately wanting to go to her.

 

“I was so angry...I was so hurt...after all I had done...I thought...I thought that maybe you would have...you could have...but no...you chose her again, just as you always did!” She whirled and stabbed a finger at Anthy, who's expression was carefully guarded.

 

“You were always the one, pulling the strings...hurting people...hurting Utena! You took everything from me, even my memories!! I wish I had never got them back...I wish I didn't have to remember the look on Utena's face when I stood waiting for her on that crazy platform...with that sword in my hand. I didn't even know how to use a sword then, but I fought her and hurt her...just to get at you!”

 

Her voice cracked as the tears flowed freely down her face, Anthy didn't move as Wakaba invaded her personal space, didn't move as Wakaba raised a fist to swing at her. But the fist never landed. Instead her head hung down in defeat. “You all...you all were toyed with by her...we never knew, but we were...she did things...said things...and now...now we're back here. Back in this place...I hate it.”

 

Shiori stepped forward and wrapped arms around the slightly taller woman, taking her in her arms as she whispered fiercely. “I know...we...we all know...” Kozue came over and rested a hand on Wakaba' shoulder as the brown haired girl tried to compose herself.

 

“That man...he orchestrated a lot of things. That much is clear now. But it was in the past, and the past can't hurt us anymore.” Her blue eyes were dark in the dim light. Then she suddenly hissed and stuck her thumb in her mouth, having singed it on her lighter. She flicked it again, and after several sparks it came back to life. Their light source was running out, they needed to hurry this up. Kozue looked over at Touga and nodded her head towards the elevator in silent communication. He gave a nod and detached from the group to resume his investigation of it.

Saionji's low voice came out as a rumble in the darkness. “Wakaba...I...never did give that clip to Anthy.” She sniffed and looked over at him. He was scuffing his shoe into the charred floor.

 

“That time when I was staying with you...when you helped me...I was honestly so happy. Those were some of my most precious memories.” He looked up at her, his violet eyes beseeching. “I know I hurt you. It was inexcusable...but please believe me, I was making that clip for you...”

 

Wakaba's tears slowly halted as she regarded him with hesitant belief.

 

“When I had finished making the clip...that...that man...Odd, I don't remember what he looks like anymore...but, he said that he would get me back reinstated to the school, as long as I gave him that clip. At the time, all I could think about was getting out of my expulsion, so I didn't really care why he wanted it. I was...very selfish when I was younger. The duels...the school....kendo...those were the only things that made up my world. Until I met you.”

 

He broke off, a slight flush to his pale cheeks. He looked up to find Wakaba standing before him, holding out her hand. He took it, wrapping his larger one around it.

 

“I love you, Seaweed Head...” Juri's eyes bulged, and she had to hide an unseemly snort at that particular pet name. But the next one was bad enough to make her start `coughing' into her hand.

 

“I love you too, Onion Head.”

 

Shiori giggled at that, and Anthy smiled. Kozue rolled her eyes as the two kissed, seeming to forget they had an audience. “Alright, enough already. The sugary display is giving me cavities. We need to find a way down to the lower levels, so...if you don't mind?”

 

The two blushed, and halted in their affections. But even as the group reassembled more firmly around the elevator shaft, Wakaba and Saionji's hands remained linked. Touga was engrossed in his study of the elevator cables.

 

“The doors are pried open, and we can access the cables, but it looks like the elevator is down at the bottom. We need some way to get it up here and out of the way, if we slide down the cables.”

 

Juri frowned and looked in as well. “Hmmm...that doesn't sound very safe...and who knows how many floors are down here? Isn't there some way to get the elevator working?”

 

Touga frowned as he thought. “Not without a descent power supply. And that's not even knowing if the cable is still attached down at the bottom, or even if it will hold. We'd be taking a gamble.”

 

Juri smirked. “I think we've been gambling long before this.” Touga smiled back and nodded. Then he looked over questioningly at Anthy.

 

“You have your...abilities....isn't there something you can do about this? Can you make the elevator move?”

 

Anthy closed her eyes a moment and concentrated. Then she opened them with a nod. “Yes...but I may need to borrow power from some of you to get us down and back up. My powers...are not what they once were.” She frowned, remembering a time when such a thing would have been easy. No longer. There were many problems associated with being mortal. She bit her lip, and then shook her head to clear it.

 

“The elevator is old, and it's stained with Mikage's power. Not to mention the weight of so many passengers.” Her hands moved gracefully in the air as she spoke, punctuating her point.

 

Saionji looked a question at her, “Should some of us stay behind then?”

 

She shook her head, making her lavender tresses bounce slightly. “No. I think it best we all stay together, especially down there. The dead can be...irksome.”

 

That made him grimace. The idea of having to deal with dead people, didn't exactly appeal. Would they be rotting shambling things, like something out of one of Wakaba's horror movies? Spectral ghosts with big teeth perhaps? He gripped the hilt of his sword. Touga chuckled, seeing his reaction.

 

“Don't worry Princess.... I'll protect you.”

 

Saionji glared at him and huffed. “I am not afraid. Here, Anthy-chan...” he walked over and pushed up his jacket sleeve to reveal the pale skin of his wrist and forearm. “Take whatever you needed.”

 

Anthy bowed in thanks, and placed her hand firmly around his arm. She handed her flashlight to Shiori, who took it to illuminate their surroundings. Wakaba came over as well, retaking his hand as Anthy closed her eyes. The duelists looked on, as there came a shiver in the air. Then, a deep humming, a painful vibration in their very bones. Anthy's hand glowed red hot, and threads of tiny burning energy seeped up from the green man's flesh.

 

He winced, gritting his teeth, but didn't move. Anthy began chanting under her breath, in a dialect he couldn't understand. Perhaps no human could really understand it. Then came a rumbling from below. Dust rained down on the party from the ceiling as a metallic scraping and creaking announced the elevator's slow climb upward.

 

After several minutes, (and several lighter flickings) later, the elevator rolled painfully into view. Looking like little more that a twisted platform. It only had one wall remaining. Touga and Juri looked at it dubiously, before stepping onto it. Gingerly they shifted their weight on, but the contraption seemed solid. “Come on everyone, quickly now.” Touga ushered the rest of them on, with Anthy still holding Saionji's arm. The man was beginning to look a bit pale.

 

Anthy released him, and then grit her teeth in concentration as the elevator began shaking violently. The elevator calmed down, but she held out her hand.

 

“I-I...need a new donor...hurry please...” Juri put her hand out before Touga could, winking at him. “You'll get your turn on the way back, Kiryuu.” She bit off her words hurriedly as she felt a painful sensation burning on the palm of her hand. Anthy was holding it, tightly, drawing her strength and pouring it into moving the elevator. The steel groaned loudly with the effort, but eventually did begin going down. Juri winced as she began to feel light headed. It felt worse than giving blood.

 

Everyone kept carefully away from the sides of the shaft, naked as they were, and rushing past quickly. As the elevator moved down, rumbling down the deep tunnel towards its destination, Shiori looked up at the piece of wall that did remain. There was something hanging on it.

 

Reaching her hands up, she took down a framed shadowbox. The glass pane had a sharp crack along its surface. Inside, once she carefully scraped away the ash and dust, was a pinned butterfly. It's wings unfurled and frozen in death. It was...familiar...

 

The elevator jarred to a halt, and Juri was released, panting softly. Shiori dropped the frame and took the older woman in the circle of her arms, as she sagged back. Juri stayed that way a moment, as she collected her breath.

 

Touga was the first to step out of the elevator...

 

...and into brackish water.

 

He cursed loudly as he shook off his pant's leg. He was soaked to the knee. The foundations had indeed been weak, and it would seem that the water lines had broken. Just over there he made out what looked to be pieces of bent pipe rising up out of the water. Dangerous...they would need to be very very careful. Turning his head back to sigh to the others, the red haired Touga said, “Well friends, it looks as though the next leg of this journey will be a wet one. I do hope some of you brought rubber boots.”

 

A few half-hearted chuckles as they all gingerly plunged into the midnight waters. Carefully shuffling their feet forward, feeling about for debris and underwater dangers, Anthy led them on into the darkness. Touga's lighter sputtered out eventually, and Kozue's wasn't long to follow. They now had to rely on Anthy's flashlight. The pale yellow beam cut across the water, moving back and forth in a lazy arc as Shiori tried to light up what was in front of them. Anthy suddenly stopped, causing Wakaba to nearly topple her over.

 

“W-what is it?” She asked fearfully, clinging to Saionji like a lifeline.

 

Anthy held up a hand and pointed before them. “We...have arrived.”

 

They were standing before a cracked glass tank sitting low in the water.

 

And rising above the glass tank, swirling translucent and spectral was what looked to be some kind of steam. But when it stopped swirling about in place, and a piece of itself rose as if to look at them, the group knew without a doubt that this was no steam. Steam didn't glow.

 

Anthy stood before it and raised a hand out to it in welcome. The thing inched closer, and slowly entwined down her wrist and arm, making a lazy arc about the outstretched limb. Like a cat coming to see it's mistress, or dog welcoming its master home. Anthy's eyes began to glow a bright green, that illuminated her face in the darkness. Juri hissed and took a step back, pushing Shiori behind her. But Anthy didn't seem to realize the group's unease. Her hair began to waft gently in an unseen breeze as her eyes pulsated in time with the words she murmured under her breath. The spectral mist writhed as her hand suddenly closed around it in a tight fist. It never made a sound, but its painful twisting in her hand made Touga think sickly of a worm being squeezed to death in a child's hand. The sight made him ill. This...was a side of Anthy they had never seen before. And it was a side he didn't feel comfortable witnessing.

 

Anthy's spine bowed, and her lips parted in an odd growling noise, then she flung the spirit away from her, ordering harshly:

 

“Bring him to me! Bring forth Mikage, once called Nemuro! I name your master twice, tell him the Witch of Roses seeks an audience!!”

 

The thing gave a small squeal and sped off into the blackness. The group waited, feeling fear and agitation knot their muscles. Swords rasped as they were drawn from their sheaths, and a semi-circle was formed around Anthy. Everyone faced in the direction she gazed, trying in vain to pierce the gloom. Anthy waited, her spine very straight, and her hair still waving in the air like wheat fields in the summer time.

 

They waited...

 

And still no one came...

 

There was some impatient shuffling in the water, ripples ringing out from the collection of bodies. Wakaba was trying hard not to imagine how much bacteria and disease was probably just swimming about her kneecaps. Kozue was thinking longingly of a club she liked to frequent, and a certain bar tab she had no intention of paying.

 

Then...the air shifted...

 

Coalescing before their very eyes, from bits of light and swirling energy, a man-shape image came into being. He was younger than they, but at the same time seemed older. He wore a pair of glasses, his longish pink hair appearing as nothing more than a gleaming silver. His body seemed nearly perfectly solid at the torso and head, but oddly faded to translucence as it came down to his legs. He wasn't looking at Anthy. No, his cold eyes were set firmly on where Wakaba was clinging to her lover. And then they clinically moved to look at Kozue and Shiori in turn. Having assessed their presence, those dead eyes moved to look at each of the ex Student Council members in turn. And only then did Nemuro look at Anthy.

 

For Nemuro he truly was.

 

But not once did he speak. Just silently regard them all.

 

...Waiting...

 

Anthy slowly went back to normal, the summoning complete. Her eyes ceased their inhuman glow, and her hair settled. But when she turned around to look at the group, they still flinched as one. She sighed, “Forgive me...” But didn't elaborate. Gesturing behind her, like a professor lecturing his students, the dark skinned woman spoke. “The dead are unable to speak to us, without...assistance. Do any of you recall readings of Homer and his works?”

 

Touga gave a nod, as did Shiori and Juri. Kozue shrugged like it wasn't important. They were all oddly becoming a little more relaxed, now that the spook show with Anthy was over. Knowing she had had powers for the duels...had pulled swords out from between her breasts...had manipulated each of them into fighting for her brother's sake... Well that was one thing. But actually seeing the hooky Voo-Doo crap? Quite another. Still...it certainly had been interesting. And if she could do all that, Kozue wondered what she had had in store for them next. Even the dead guy hovering over the aquarium tank wasn't so scary anymore...but god she needed a cigarette.

 

Anthy smiled and elaborated in those sweet dulcet tones of hers. “Well...one of the things Homer was correct about was the need for blood. The dead cannot speak without it's properties...so I shall need to make a small cut on my wrist. Do any of you have a knife?”

 

Saionji blinked. “Won't a sword do just as well?”

 

Anthy smiled pleasantly as she answered, “I would rather not cut all the way to the bone, if it is alright with you.” Saionji blinked in surprise as Touga gave an outright laugh. Juri joined in with a smirk, and just like that the tension melted completely. Blood...they needed blood.

 

Wakaba felt about in her pockets but could only produce a pair of nail clippers. Shiori had a seat of keys, and Kozue just had a pack of cigarettes and an empty lighter. Anthy sighed and shrugged. “Oh well...please hold your sword very still, Touga.”

 

He nodded, and held it carefully by the thicker part of the blade, as Anthy leaned in close. And although Shiori winced in sympathy, Anthy didn't flinch as a small bead of blood rose on her skin. Squeezing her fingers on her forearm, she worked more blood to the surface. Nemuro watched her with a raptor's gaze. She moved back towards him, and he floated down to her. Cradling her offering in his hands, so she would not move away, Nemuro pressed his lips to the wound. And began to drink deeply. It was a small wound, barely more than a nick. And he didn't remain there long. But there was something in the witch's blood that gave him power...that solidified him further. That sparked intelligence and a sort of life into his eyes.

 

Nemuro rose from where he had been hunched over, and floated before them all once more. He wore a purple coat and a pair of crisp white pants, looking just as he did the day he had burned down the Hall. His voice, when he spoke, echoed and made hidden things in the shadows flutter. Touga kept his sword out and ready.

 

“Why are you here now?”

 

Anthy raised her chin in confidence and replied, “We've come to ask you for help in destroying the Thousands Swords. They have been released.”

 

“I know.”

 

Those two words held the weight of knowledge and eternity in them. Anthy remained resolved. “Will you tell us how to destroy them, Nemuro?”

 

“No. They cannot be destroyed.”

 

That made the group fidget. Anthy's eyes narrowed, “They cannot be destroyed? Surely they must be able to. They are a threat to mankind, that cannot be allowed to remain free!”

 

Nemuro gave a sigh, the sound of dry leaves rustling along marble corridors. “They cannot be destroyed. They must be laid to rest.”

 

“How?”

 

“By combating their very nature. By reaching the source.”

Anthy looked annoyed. “Explain. You are being vague.”

 

“By completing the story. By the symbolic representation of their elements and their element's polar opposites.”

 

“You're speaking in riddles, Nemuro! I don't understand!” Juri couldn't help but feel a small bit of smugness at seeing Anthy on the receiving end of weird messages and dialog. Then she admonished herself for thinking such a thing at a time like this. Nemuro looked annoyed. The living these days were so bloody dense. Must he honestly spell it out?

 

“There are ten main sword leading their stupider and lesser brethren...each bearing a different sort of Hatred...they are entwined with one another but are also separate entities.” He crossed his ghostly arms, and arched an eyebrow. It should have looked comical, but somehow it wasn't. “Use your brain, I know you must have some semblance of intelligence. To lay them to rest, you must first weaken them by using something symbolic of what's opposite of their natures. Of what they are put on earth to represent.”

 

Juri cut in, “But ten different types of hatred? Isn't that a bit much? How are we supposed to figure out what they are?” She glared back defiantly as the ghost scowled darkly. He hated being interrupt, living or dead.

 

“Fool...that is for you to figure out. I'm not here to hold your hand, merely show you the way.” Juri bristled at that, and her maroon haired wife moved in to rub her hands on her arms.

 

Nemuro waved a hand in the air, leaving an after image trailing behind. “ When they were released, we felt their rage here within our domain. They have breached the world of the living and the dead, and have since their birth. They are not a natural creation. They upset the balance. You must put them to their final rest, so that order is once again established. The wheel wobbles on its axis, as things are now...”

 

Anthy thought for a moment before speaking. “Will you...lend us some sort of power with which to battle the swords?” Her eyes pleaded with him, begging him to listen. “They will not go easy to their graves...and I don't have the sort of power I once had before...before my...”

 

“Mortality.”

 

“...Yes. I had to use some of your own power just to call you. I've become...weak...” She spat that last word out distastefully.

 

Nemuro regarded her quietly, and then he slowly floated towards her. She looked up in confusion but didn't move as he placed a ghostly hand on her cheek. It tingled coldly...buzzing faintly with some sort of electricity. He leaned in closer, as if to kiss her.

 

“Even now...even now in this state...I can still see you as him...as my precious Mamiya...” His lips brushed the top of her forehead as he floated back silently. “You fed me falsehood and lies. it is because of you and your brother that I am still trapped here...”

 

Anthy shook her head. “No...my brother no longer has a hold on you. It was your own bid for power...your desire for your science that has condemned you to rot in this hole. But you needn't remain.” She looked away a moment, before taking a breath, “I'm sorry. For deceiving you back then, Nemuro. I really did like you, despite my brother's ambitions. You don't deserve to be here.”

 

He gave her a small smile, the first he'd given at all. But in the grips of death, it had no warmth. “Thank you... If you will help us to be free of this place, we will give you our power to add to your own.”

 

He continued to gaze down at them, but suddenly sparks of light began to flicker into being all around them. Like stars in the darkness, more of the ghostly spectral fogs began to swirl and dip about the group of duelists. Mikage's voice raised as he swept a hand at the ghost lights.

 

“These are the spirits of the dead, still trapped within these walls! These are the ghosts of 100 duelists, who died in a fire of my own creation. Young men and women, who died before they ever realized their dreams!”

 

The ghost began moving as one, swirling in a lazy circle about the ring of living bodies, who grouped together more tightly. As Mikage spoke on, the circling spirits began to move faster and faster. Coming together like the wall of a tornado, with Anthy and the others at its eye.

 

“We, the forgotten duelists, will lend you our strength. That you might fight as we never were able to. Use our power to bring forth a new revolution!”

 

The twister tightened before breaking out into raging streams of ectoplasmic light. A stream roared and slammed into Touga's chest, making him bend back in a silent scream.

Another hit Juri and then Saionji, catching them wide-eyed and fearful. They glowed white-hot for a moment, their naked swords pulsating with the unnatural light. Anthy followed them not long after, her eye sockets pouring green light like blazing meteors. The four of them shivered and dropped to their hands and knees in the stagnant water. But Kozue, Shiori, and Wakaba remained untouched. Nemuro floated down to them.

 

“You three...you three were of my chosen champions. My lovely Black Rose duelists. For you three, I offer a choice.”

 

The three women huddled together; Kozue taking them both into her arms and glaring out at the ghost with hostility. She had not forgotten what she had done to her brother because him. The bastard had caused them a lot of grief!

 

“You would not have been brought into these series of events, had it not been for your association with the Council and the Champion. You were characters in a gallery, positioned and puppeted about for the pleasure of higher powers. Much as I was...and I was no different to you... So I will offer you a choice. I can lend you protection. Protection from the swords, that you need not fear their touch upon you. That you may go in peace to your homes, to safety.”

 

Shiori bit her lip, but then raised her chin in a frown. Eyes flashing in a flare of courage and love, she answered him coolly. “I will not stand by while my love goes to fight those damnable things. I will not be left at home to wait for her!”

 

Her statement was echoed in the eyes of her Black sisters. Nemuro smiled again softly with pride. He nodded. “...then I offer you a means to fight as well. You were not true duelists back then...you only borrowed your strength. I will now grant you true strength of your own. With the knowledge and experience of one hundred individuals fueling it. But I will also grant you power...from myself.” He leaned in and touched each of their cheeks in turn. As his pale fingers would moved away, for an instant a tiny glowing sigil of a rose would remain. Fading quickly to nothingness. He nodded to himself, his form becoming less solid. He was beginning to disappear.

 

“There...you three...have received my power...and now my time here is done... Witch...help to free my fellows to oblivion...I can offer you nothing more...”

 

His legs began to disappear, and his shoulders began to sag. Anthy, now brimming with necromantic power, raised her hands in the air and began to move them in a series of fluid motions. A light from the dark ceiling above, broke through the gloom like a golden sun. As it lit up the room, Touga could now see that several scorched coffins were floating half submerged in the black waters of the basement. It was from these coffins that the ethereal images of smiling boys and girls, garbed in an old style of Ohtori's school uniform, began to rise. They flew up in a multitude, heading up into the light. And moving on to whatever lay beyond. At last, only Nemuro remained behind, his form barely an outline in the air.

 

His voice was distant, and barely understandable as he painfully rose up into the air. He seemed weighted and tired. He looked at Anthy, who still continued to chant and make the ritualistic motions necessary for the gate. He gave her a sad smile.

 

“I-I...have sinned...but now I am free....good luck, Princess...y-your....”

 

He shivered as he felt the pull of the light. His body began moving towards it of its own accord. But as he moved, he twisted his head back to look at them, calling out from far away.

 

“...Y-your brother....awaits you....in the Tower! The first.....his s-sword...is the sword-“

There was a boy waiting for him in the light. A brown haired boy with a warm smile and open arms. Nemuro smiled joyfully and moved to meet him. As they embraced and disappeared into the light, his last words whispered themselves in the duelist's minds:

 

 

...of Self Loathing...

 

Anthy lowered her arms and the light winked out of existence. The gate was shut once more. Taking a shaky breath, she turned to face the group. They watched her with new eyes.

 

“Lets get out of here.”

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

Getting back out of the ruins of Nemuro Memorial Hall proved to be far easier now that Anthy had additional reserves of power to draw on. The return trip was one spent in silence however, each reflecting on what they had seen and witnessed. It was something none of them would ever forget for the rest their lives.

 

Coming back to the limo, Touga was of course the first to speak. “I can feel it. I can feel a new strength from those old duelists. It's like...having a battery put in my back.” He remarked thoughtfully. He flexed his arm, looking down at it with a calm wonderment. Anthy gave him a tired smile. The ordeal had drained her in many ways. “Good...because we will most assuredly need it when we face the swords.”

 

Kozue arched an eyebrow as she placed a hand on her hip. She was currently leaning on the hood of Touga's limo, resting. “He said that the Chairman was the first sword. Self Loathing was it? Guess that means we'll be paying our alma mater a visit after all.” She smirked, “And damn...I didn't bring my nicer shoes.”

 

Anthy looked over her friends quizzically. They all seemed...more at ease than she would have thought they would be. In fact, they looked to be in good spirits? Juri was teasing Saionji playfully by the car door, Wakaba was smiling cheerfully. Weren't they frightened of what was to come? Of facing her brother again after so long? Touga seemed to interpret her thoughts, for he came over and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

 

“They trust one another. And they trust you. And they're fighting to save Utena. That's how they can be so relaxed. Because they've finally found something to unite them all again.”

 

Anthy shook her head in amazement, “ Even after what they've seen? After the terrible things they've witnessed? They're stronger than I could ever think possible.”

Touga gave her a small hug before releasing her to head for the limo.

 

“Friendship is powerful thing.”

 

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

Up in his tower conservatory, hunched underneath what used to be his projector, Akio Ohtori rocked back and forth. His hair was disheveled, his clothes stained and dirty. It looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. Which was the truth. His eyes gleamed silver, as he lifted his head. They were coming...the Rose Knights...the Witch...they were coming here...

 

He sent out his message to the other swords to alert them, before sighing sadly to himself. They had to die...he had to die...everything had to die, because it was too disgusting to go on. He was a failure, washed-up. The One needed to be placated though...and that was enough for him to stumble to his feet. Dragging his sword by the tip, he headed for the worn couch that looked as though it had stood the test of time. Plopping down heavily onto it, he sighed again and waited. The very air seemed heavy and thick as molasses. The intensity of his own self loathing.

 

He would wait for them. And then he would slice them apart. And then when it was over with, and the One had their heads, he would get back to slicing himself.

 

Akio looked down at the red dress shirt he was wearing. the sleeves had been torn off. There were a mass of scars running up and down his arms, along parts of his chest, and even along his throat. He gazed at his dark skin, so much like his sister's. So ugly. So disgusting. He couldn't stand to even be in his own skin anymore. He hated this. He hated this existence...this mortality forced upon him...

 

The once proud god of the campus, the All-Powerful Chairman...was now little more than a middle aged man. His hair now had signs of gray. There were wrinkles and bags under his eyes. And his skin had dulled and grayed with malnutrition. But the Sword kept him alive... he had to stay alive so he could cut away the ugliness...

 

He was going to wait for his guests arrival...but...

 

Akio began running his sword along the backs of his arms, watching the red stuff run out and stain his couch yet again. It slicked down the razor sharp edge of his blade, like hot oil. He sliced slowly and carefully, making sure it went deep enough to make him feel good. He sighed in contentment as he kept cutting...kept slicing.

 

...maybe he would just have to start his little party a bit early.

 

To Be Continued