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Sang Sur les Roses	By : Saoirse Category: +S to Z > Utena Views: 2873 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Utena, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Under the late afternoon citrus and honey glare Utena
looked down from the fencing hall tower window to watch elementary school
children engaged in a game of soccer. The girls and boys rumbled hard dressed
in their dusty white, yellow, and green uniforms. They appeared to be no older
than 10 years. Already was a pair of boys rolling around the wind swept
courtyard scrimmaging, clawing at each other�s jerseys mussing their short,
satiny cropped hair. Utena pushed back from the window that ran the length of
the room, her pores gasping for oxygen constricted within the fencing whites.
She heard the faint shouts and cursing from the kids and their peers that egged
them on. Where in hell was the coach? In her old school one only dreamed about
getting away with such things. Violence was something proscribed everywhere,
here at this school it was the easiest way to alleviate tension and propagated
competition. Every flash of the eye and sigh of breath conveyed the same
subliminal message, who wanted it most.

* * *

That morning Utena made her entrance and was on the
receiving end of the most venal glares from the women. The men ignored her. One
girl a brunette with gregarious pigtails fixed Utena�s back with such a stare
that she felt the twin blast of lasers bore into her. Utena spun on the balls
of her oxfords to confront the pigtailed girl�s glare. A collective gasp rose
from the crowd, the crackling of electricity jumped and snapped like a whiplash
between them. �Try it!� Utena�s sea blue eyes flashed refracting the
sunlight. The girl stoically conceded and departed the field; two others joined
her, a taller girl with long raven locks and a shorter one whose ginger hair
feathered curling under her jaws. Utena released a tremulous breath entering
the classroom collapsing at her desk, securing a wavy tress behind her ear her
thin lobe felt weighted by the gold bauble. Her ears were pierced when she was
an infant only just able to sit up on her own, Utena couldn�t remember it but
she knew she received a painless prick from prick from the sterilized puncture gun. Lifting a hand to touch it, the
lettering on her left ear scored her fingertip. Gebo as in gift, to find or
strengthen a relationship, for fertility or offering, and to bring luck. But
its X-shape marked her father for certain death, positively inhumane and far
crueler than any mere car wreck could produce.

Blood, so much blood that it pumped and swelled in her
olfactories that she was ready to retch, bile coating her esophagus hot forcing
her to retreat to the shadow of a knot of lockers. Her senses activated on high
alert as her physiognomy never experienced before striking zigzags on her hyper
stimulated flesh screaming for the unknown. Lifting the back of her hand to her
mouth she took yawning breaths ordering herself to calm down with no positive
results. Ducking into the nearest girls� bathroom she threw her briefcase
sliding it across the dust and grime roughened porcelain tile work under the
radiators. Twisting the cold tap and filling the burnished white ceramic basin
she splashed her face several times, lapping at the cool refreshing water.
Voices just on the other side of the swinging door slashed the relative peace
and Utena dove into the farthest steel teal toilet stall tucked in the corner.
She gingerly perched on the toilet rim and listened. The intoxicatingly high
feminine laughter denoted an older student the soles of her snakeskin pumps
skinned the rose tiling like sandpaper inebriatedly. She was followed by the
portentous solid tempo of a pair of polished black shoes under starched white
uniform pant legs. They were getting closer. The couple passed every stall
until the gentleman physically maneuvered the giddy girl into the stall right
beside Utena�s. A baritone voice sexy as sin murmured something unintelligible
and meatily the girl�s body thudded against the stall�s wall, Utena backed into
the freezing wall terrazzo feeling the reverberation in the trembling silver
joints bolted to the wall. Her left leg was lifted vanishing from the high
partition on the floor and down skated around her right foot was a pair of cranberry
lace bikinis.

Utena was crippled consigned to witness the partaking of
lust in a common bathroom. The girl emitted choppy, wet sensual sighs and
groans Utena could see that the couple�s weight rest on their feet as the man
heartlessly shoved in and out of her. The beat they created slamming on the
metal was in sync with the pulse beat between Utena�s legs. So tempted was she
to let her fingers wander inside her wet panties and take some of the weight
from her heavy sex, instead she balled her fists tighter. She was being well
used, the girl�s shrieks were louder and his hip actions gained speed, his cock
slipping and slurping from her oiled orifice working her to a vengeful finish
churning out streams of hot lust to mix in and coat her canal. He caught her
dream-dazed body before it rumpled to the floor setting her down on the toilet,
her thighs sliding apart. He zipped his fly and adjusted his uniform with a
wicked efficacy and said, �Well now Tenjou-san, I trust I provided you with a
better demonstration than in the garden.� Utena mortified cupped a hand over
her stunned mouth. What in hell? How did he know about that? �I look forward to
our first meeting,� he slid both hands into his pockets. �Have a nice day.� And
out he went leaving behind his partner sated to the point of being rendered
into a pseudo-coma and Utena curious and wanting. Several minutes crawled by
when Utena crept from the safety of the stall. She pushed open the door with
her finger wide enough for a single eye to see through. At the end of the hall
waiting for the elevator was a graceful tower of white and red speaking
dynamically into a cell phone. Kiryuu Touga. �I look forward to our first
meeting.�

* * *

�Your parents didn�t tell you anything, I presume?� Ruka
stood at the far left of the hall, his frame crooked at a bow resting his hips
against the wall. His face partially silhouetted from the setting sun dyeing
half of his handsome features ocher. He tapped the blunt end of his foil on the
parquet letting it fill the space between himself and Utena since he did not
realistically expect an answer from her. Not even a shake of her head. �Do you
really want to know what was going on in those woods? It�s all right if you
refuse, in fact it may be wiser. If you�re frightened Tenjou I am glad you are.
So many of us jump into this head first with no considerations for their
personal safety or that of their loved ones.�

�Which is sort of redundant in my case, don�t you think?�
She pointed out.

�What do you know about Japanese wolves?� Ruka paused
patiently and when Utena responded to him with a confounding expression he was
convinced he had her full attention and interest. �I�ll rephrase� what do you
think you know about Japanese wolves? Aside from the fact that they have been
extinct in the country for over a century, the old people and paranoid freaks
have claimed sightings of wolves and hearing wolves baying. Just a few years
ago 70 people swore they heard howling or seen a pack marauding. Insanity, I
know,� he put his foil into one of the long glass cabinets on the adjacent wall
from the window. �After the douran, the Americans and Europeans were settling
into the Far East. They taught the serfs ranching and since the cowboys back
home were having problems with coyotes and wolves invading prairies from the
hills or forests on the hunt for their packs stole into their ranches and
attacked their precious slabs of beef. And as the old saying goes, better safe
than sorry. Strychnine was baited and quite successful. But as human nature can
only persist we have to go that extra mile. Riflemen� archers� even swordsmen
had a new, exciting contender. The inugari��

Ruka said this with such darkness in his tone, tendrils
of black mist coiled hot around Utena�s heart. Her throat closed up and she saw
an angry swaying sea of green under a midnight sky, gnarled fingers and arms of
sadistic white electrical pulses dug in their talons escaping from under a
boiling black nebula. �Inugari�� The whisper whooshed from Utena�s breath
frosting the glass pane before her.

�The inugari,� Ruka stood beside her. Utena stared at his
reflection in the glass. �Bands of hunters who reveled in the pursuit and
bloodbath of the wolf packs. Pelts, severed heads, carcasses, tongues, all for
the taking and all trophies. But all of these brazen characters for got one
thing.�

�Which is?�

And Ruka�s face cracked into
an elated grin. �Just how dangerous the mountains are.� Okami. Utena harked
back to Jiya�s ramblings. As a child Utena planted herself on the carpet before
her dozing grandfather, his senility mystified her. So frail was the Tenjou
patriarch he seemed to sink into the deep leather armchair he rarely left
towards the end of his life, only reaching over to the lamp table for the
ceramic china tea pot and bamboo cup to fill with shuddering hands a steaming,
aromatic green elixir that smelled nothing like green tea. He garbled to
himself and anyone possessing a deity�s patience and tolerance, and what
Utena�s infantile ears could decipher was that the mountains were frightening
places the abodes of spirits and any potential of a mortal�s infringement was
provocative. Shrines and burial sites dotted the peak-filled landscape and
there were countless tales of humans encountering malevolent forces out on the
paths. Feral animals particularly wild dogs, vipers, and bears were a perceived
source of that danger so the remote-dwelling creature and the yama no kami�s
borderlines were blurred merging together. The mountains formed a world with
its own separate ways of thinking and ethics so distinguished from the outside
world.

She also knew that the underside of a mountain was never
barren and that the woods were its gateway. Crossing through its barriers was
only the first test to a greater danger on a higher plane, just as Utena did
that night stepping over the rope sign watching the fog�s ghastly sallow fists
curl away withdrawing between the trees not to leave as much as a trace of mist
sticking to the dirt. �So one day, a princess so consumed by guilt from her
brother�s actions, she went to the mountains to sacrifice herself as a gesture
of repentance. A wolf came upon her, but instead of gorging on the princess it
bade her to follow him. He was but a messenger for his master, the prince. The
earth was diseased so fearful was the prince of being poisoned he no longer
left his castle. There was no one worth salvaging since wantonness prevailed
despite how humanity pulled itself up from the ashes only to fall into the maw.
If the princess truly wanted to atone the only fitting punishment was to become
one with the beast. The prince�s messenger minced the golden filaments of the
princess� soul, as they were made complete. And she was called Eve.�

Ruka ended his story and there was a long reprieve before
either ventured to open their mouths. �So the Seitokai�� Utena said.

Ruka
intersected his arms over his chest crossly. �What do you think?�

TSUZUKU
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Sang Sur les Roses