Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ War of the Roses ❯ Ball and Requiem ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter IV: Ball and Requiem

'As most of you are aware, there will be a masquerade ball in the Grand Hall in two weeks. If you wish to attend in period dress-any period, as long as the costume is European-I have a number of books that you are welcome to consult.' Vampa bowed and took his leave of the class.

'Diavolo!' The ancient Italian reopened the door with an oath to free his pants leg. As the class waited for the next teacher, the room buzzed with costume suggestions and questions about who was going with whom. One young man sat aloof, gazing out the window.

De la Fère's cool manner and touchy sense of honour had won him no friends during his first month at Ohtori, but had rather earned him the wary respect given to vipers. He and de Beuil attended the fencing club's meetings twice or thrice a week; and had earned a reputation as second only to Juri herself, though de la Fère had lost a few matches to Miki and de Beuil. The class's murmuring subsided as the door opened and the chemistry teacher entered to deliver a dry lecture on solubilities. About half the class was asleep by the time he left.

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'What are you going as?' Anne asked Edouard. The two were leaning on a windowsill, watching younger students come and go in the small courtyard below.

'I haven't decided yet. But I'm definitely not going as a Musketeer-I've worn that costume too many times.'

'But it looks good on you. If you don't mind wearing armour, we could go as a pair of knights.'

'We have two weeks to get ready, Anne. Where are we going to find armour and a pair of broadswords?'

'I already have a suit; I decided on my costume last semester. I'm sure that the person I bought it from can get a second suit ready in two weeks. As for broadswords, I don't think they'll let us bring weapons into the ball. Now we just need to choose blazons for our shields.'

At this moment, a girl looked up from painting her toenails, dark purple hair falling across her face for a moment. 'Say, I could go as a fox and you can be…a cat!'

Her companion turned away from the window to face the girl sitting on her bed. A thin gold chain glittered at her throat. 'Shiori, I told you: I'm not going, and certainly not as a cat. I'd look ridiculous with ears and a tail.'

The younger girl laughed and blew on her toes as she capped the bottle of nail polish. 'Come on, Juri. Live a little; you won't have many chances to dress up like this once you graduate, you know.'

'I know. It's just…I don't feel comfortable wearing anything other than my uniform and fencing outfit.' The fencer unconsciously fingered the aiguillettes on the jacket slung over a chair.

'Please? For me?' Juri slowly sat down on the bed and essayed a small smile.

'I'd do anything for you. I might as well live while I'm still young.'

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The ball was held in a cavernous hall, vast enough to easily accommodate the entire student body, from first to twelfth grade, though only high school students and a handful of middle schoolers attended. Potted palms stood in stately rows under tall windows behind long tables bearing every type of refreshment on either side of the hall. Tuxedo-clad waiters unobtrusively replenished these as necessary. A series of triple-decked crystal chandeliers gave light to the gathering and a small orchestra played at the foot of the grand staircase opposite the door. Despite the early hour-the bells had just struck half past eight-the hall was abuzz with conversation as guests awaited the first dance.

Conspicuous among the flamingoes, cats, and pirates was a couple encased in steel. Heavy cuirasses with shining cuisses and stout greaves protected the body and legs. Vambrace and rerebrace shielded the arms, with sturdy pauldrons at the shoulder. The suits were forged in a German style: the ends of plates were formed into points, and the plates were fluted with gilt edges. Both wore high, domed armets with visors down. The two were unarmed, not even bearing shields; small ailettes displayed their devices at the shoulder. One had a white gardenia on a crimson field; the other bore a red-crested Roman helm on gold and black stripes. The former wore steel shoes, while the other had chosen leather [1].

In reality, the armour was lightweight aluminum rather than steel; but it was no less imposing for the choice of material. The Knight of the Helm asked turned to her companion and asked in a woman's voice, 'Why did you insist on sabotons?'

'I've danced with you before, Anne,' came the reply.

The woman's retort died in her throat as a general hush fell across the room: Utena and Anthy had arrived. The two descended either side of the grand staircase and met in the center above the steps leading down to the dance floor. They bowed to the assembly as though they were the hosts, which was true in a way as Anthy was sister to Ohtori Akio. The Rose Bride wore a full, flowing crimson gown with a green gem holding the high collar closed. Full, almost puffy sleeves were slashed at the shoulder to show the green shirt beneath. Her hair trailed almost to the floor, forming a second train; a slim tiara sparkled in those violet locks beneath the chandeliers.

The Rose Bride's companion was arrayed in an almost military fashion: heavily starched navy blue pants with silver trim and a long, richly embroidered coat of the same colour. Silver and gold threads picked out a vine trailing from neck to waist, with a single cerulean flower on the left breast. It was balanced by a seven-pointed silver star with a crimson stone at its center. Her Rose Ring flashed at each step as the two descended the stair arm in arm. The students at the foot of the stairs parted to make way for the couple/

Anthy nodded to her right as she set foot on the floor and the orchestra instantly began a stately Tchaikovsky waltz. A titter ran around the hall as the two armoured figures bowed to each other and joined the dance. Those closest to them could hear an occasional clank as Anne trod on Edouard's feet. He made his way to one of the refreshment tables after the dance ended.

Saionji stood there in the storied dress of an English yeoman: a long Lincoln green tunic belted at the waist over matching tights. A leather thong threaded through holes held the tunic closed at the throat. A crimson feather stood tall in his high-peaked green hat. He sneered at the Frenchman's approach, but de la Fère spoke first: 'Good evening, Monsieur le Vice-president. The outfit of a forest bandit is quite becoming on you.'

The green-haired youth flushed and his hand darted to his hip, reaching for a sword that wasn't there. 'Are you so afraid of me that you must come armoured to a dance?'

'Kyouichi, where are you? Come on, the second dance is starting!' A brunette fairy with perky antennae and iridescent wings pulled the older boy from the table as the orchestra began a lively rag. He glared one last time at de la Fère before turning his attention to his date.

As they danced, Anne asked Edouard, 'Have you seen Juri around? She said she was coming at the last fencing club meeting.'

'She's probably just coming late. You know how it can be with costumes sometimes.'

Juri did not arrive in time for the third or even the fourth dance. However, and altercation at the door could be heard shortly after the bells tolled nine thirty. A number of guests imagined that they could hear Juri among the voices involved. A few minutes later, Kiryuu Touga entered in a foul temper. And lone-unusual for the playboy. One cheek bore a red mark shaped not unlike a hand. His hair, arranged to form a lion's mane to compliment his costume, was askew, but he bore no other mark of violence. Of the woman, or women, whose voices were heard during the quarrel at the door, no sign was seen.

The manner of Touga's arrival, and his mood thereafter, dampened the atmosphere considerably. The fifth dance was half-hearted at best and several guests quietly slipped away afterwards. Anne and Edouard remained, however, as the sixth number was one of their favourites. They took up stations by the now-empty refreshments table nearest the orchestra and awaited the beginning of a Strauss waltz. Halfway through the piece a somber Vampa entered the hall carrying a small note. He delivered this to de la Fère, saying, 'I'm sorry for your loss. If there's anything you need, just ask.'

The Frenchman read the note slowly through his visor; the helm hid any trace of emotion that he may have shown. When he was done, he passed the note to de Beuil and asked of Vampa, 'There is a chapel on campus, is there not? I would like to hold a small requiem service there at the time the message gave.'

The old Italian nodded and took de la Fère by the arm. 'I'll arrange everything. An old friend of mine happens to be in town-he is a priest who might be willing to do that.'

'Thank you.' Edouard bowed deeply to his teacher and the three left silently. A few feet from the door, the glint of gold caught his eye. A small locket had been thrown into the bushes beside the path. The chain was broken.

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De la Fère was absent from class the next day, but even the normally acerbic math teacher did no more than state that he may be out for several days due to 'family business.' Vampa wore black and his lecture was much more subdued than usual. When classes ended for the day, the redhead in the class sought out the Frenchman to see if he was well.

She found him on a balcony overlooking a small garden just coming into bloom. Upon hearing her footsteps, he remarked, 'Life goes on,' without turning his head.

She instantly halted. 'What do you mean?'

'Everything leaves the world eventually: plants, beasts, birds, men, women, nations, even mountains and oceans. But life goes on.' De la Fère gave no sign that he was aware that he was not alone, but instead continued his melancholy musings. 'He's gone now…but I have to carry one. Tradition can be so heavy at times.'

'What tradition? Who's gone?'

The Frenchman whirled to face the redhead. His black uniform was devoid of all decoration or colour-even the buttons were black. See from the front, his hair was wild and his mien drawn. Puffy eyes and faint trails of salt on his cheeks bore mute testimony to a night of tears. He explained in his dead voice, 'My brother was struck by a drunk driver while walking home from a theater. The funeral is set for four PM Orleans time Saturday.' De la Fère wiped his face on his sleeve and demanded, 'Why are you here? You didn't come here to watch me cry. I have no tears left if you did.'

'I…I'm sorry about your brother. You weren't in class today and I thought you might be sick.'

'Thank you for your concern, but I'm well enough. In body, at least.' He essayed a faint smile before turning back to his contemplation of the garden. 'Please, let me be alone for a time. And don't tell anyone what I've said to you. There are some at this school who would not respect my grief.'

The redhead turned to leave-she knew the rumours about his feud with Saionji-but stopped at the threshold. 'By the way, Arisugawa Juri has resigned from the Student Council. I heard she had a falling out with Kiryuu Touga and no longer wears the Rose Ring.'

A peculiar hunching of the shoulder and neck that may have been either nod or shrug was the only acknowledgement she received.

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The Ohtori chapel was a small stone building that stood at the verge of the forest behind the school. The great bells had just tolled half past eleven when four figures rounded a curve in the path leading to the chapel. A crescent moon hung in the sky beside a line of stars that gave it the appearance of a sickle. The pale light reflected from three heads: two silver and one gold. The fourth member of the party followed a pace of so behind the other three, supporting himself on a cane. Of the two older men, both wore their hair cropped short; one wore the black cassock and Roman collar of a priest while the other was clad in the leather-elbowed tweed of a professor. The priest carried a small bag at his side. The blonde was a young woman, clad in a somber and very modest black dress. The young man with the cane also wore black and the air of mourning hung heavily on him.

As the small party approached the tile-roofed chapel, the professor pulled a large old-fashioned key from his pocket. The dark oak doors swung open silently after he turned the key. The interior was unlit, as the chapel was seldom used at any time, much less midnight. However, the floor, the half dozen pews, and the altar were well-swept and spotless. After lighting a pair of candles on the altar, Father Pastrini retreated into a small side-room to don the vestments he had brought in his bag. As he opened the door, de la Fère caught his arm and said, 'Te ago gratias, Pater…I thank you, Father, for agreeing to do this for me. I know that this is not the most convenient time or place to do your most solemn duty.'

The priest clasped the young man by the arms and replied gently in the same tongue, 'Luigi explained everything. I understand why you want this service to coincide with the one in Orleans. You will be with your family in spirit tonight though your bodies are many leagues apart. Now go, and make yourself ready even as I prepare for the service.' As the door closed behind him, the priest added, 'I know French [2].'

Father Pastrini re-entered the main room just as the bells tolled midnight. He began the service after the last peal died away.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Te decet hymnus, Deus, in Sion, et tibi reddetur

votum in Jerusalem: exaudi orationem meam, ad

te omnis caro veniet.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Kyrie eleison.

Christe eleison.

Kyrie eleison…. [3]

After the priest had changed back to his cassock after the service, the four returned to the school gates to see Father Pastrini off. Saionji happened by as the priest opened his car door. His sword hung loosely at his side. 'What are you doing out here at this hour, de la Fère?'

'Nothing that concerns you, Monsieur. If you do not let us go in peace, I swear by-' The Frenchman half-raised his cane to attack the green-haired man before he recalled the occasion. He lowered it again with a shake of the head. 'I will not fight you tonight, but I must ask that you let us go unmolested.

'What is this, playing the coward now in front of your girl?' De la Fère's jaw tightened at this accusation and the cane quivered in his grasp. Father Pastrini laid a hand on his shoulder.

'He was with me, Signor. He needed…counseling in personal matters and my friend, Signor Vampa, kindly arranged for me to advise him [4].'

The professor added, 'Chairman Ohtori has given his approval to our meeting. He is most understanding in these personal matters.'

'Good night, then. I hope you use these old men's advice well,' Saionji snarled as he turned on his heel.

Notes:

1) Cuirass is a term for the breast- and backplates together; a Cuiss is armour for the thigh; Greaves protect the shins; Vambraces cover the forearm while Rerebraces defend the upper arm. An Armet is a particular type of helm, which encloses the entire head and is equipped with a visor…it's the stereotypical knight's helm. Ailettes are square or round plates worn at the shoulder; usually made of leather or a similar material, they probably served primarily to identify the wearer. Sabotons are the metal shoes usually associated with armours…I don't think they came with heels.

2) This conversation is in Latin…but my skill with the language is rather limited. The first few words should mean 'I thank you, Father,' but I could be wrong. Since Edouard doesn't know Italian, this is the most convenient language for him to converse in with the priest.

3) This should be the text of the Catholic Missa pro defucta, the Mass for the Dead. If I'm mistaken, please tell me. I think the first line means something like 'Give them eternal rest, O Lord, and illuminate them with eternal light.' There are websites out there with full translations of the text. Here's one: http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~jclee/music/requiem_text.html

4) Signor is the Italian equivalent of 'Mr.' I think that these foreign honourifics lend a bit more colour to the characters than just using the ubiquitous 'san.'