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. |
The first willow fall of an early spring brought out the
groundskeepers and their steel wool bristle push brooms to scrub and scour the
smooth white conduits. Under one of a thousand stained glass windows a pair of
girls ambled by throwing their 20-foot gossamer shadows on the ruddy glass.
“Kashira! Kashira! Gozonjii kashira!” The girl on the
right with braids coiling upwards tautly like glass beadwork donned a bonnet
and cloak setting a wicker basket down on the ground.
“Obaa-chan! Obaa-chan! Are you well? I have brought you
healthy fare to cure your ills!” From behind a wooden door softly a voice
croaked, “Come in, come in my sweet child,” lured the grandmother to her
precious grandchild. Creaking the door slowly open Akazukin-chan stepped
precociously into the cottage’s foyer. The shutters closed save for a crack in
the wooden slats wide enough for a mouse to slip through fired a beam of dying
sun and swimming dust into the fetid, dark house. “Hai my tender heart,”
floated the sumptuous voice from the black, “please close the door behind you.”
Akazukin-chan squinted
prettily and saw the outline of a black iron bedstead, aglow in the dark was a
graying white downy, thick duvet clothed over it. “My Obaa-chan, what big eyes
you have!” She commented to the blunted face.
“The better to see you with my dear.”
“Obaa-chan, what big ears you have!” Akazukin-chan gaped.
“The better to hear you with my dear.” The voice drifting
from the sleep boater dropped an octave.
“Obaa-chan, what a big nose you have…”
* * *
In all her years of attending Ohtori, Juri never left the
campus save for visiting the Kiryuu mansion and only when it was absolutely
necessary. Hou’oh-shi was a quaint village-esque beachfront town with loping
cobblestone hills, huge parks, a conglomeration of big business and family
owned establishments passed down through the generations. Bean cake and ramen
carts were pulled along the streets serving to smartly dressed professionals.
The farmer’s market and weekly souk was the main attraction every Saturday on
the promenade. Green grocers boasted their best produce: sweet fruit, buds like
jewels ripe with juice and summery flavors. Avocados, damp apples, unblemished
squash, bananas, dreamily glistening purple and white grapes, and berries by
the barrelful. The sharp, crisp snapping of long green celery, giggling rattles
of legumes in burlap sacks, ears of corn that had their husks peeled back to
expose their salivating sweetness, and tomatoes so round and plump they would
burst at the touch of a knife. Silversmiths hawking ostentatious baubles,
fodder for the Ohtori female populace that would clash with every outfit they
owned and break uniform protocol. Beneath the maze of canopies were clothing,
novelties, books, pottery anything to deflate a bargainer’s coin purse. It was
the baker’s stall Arisugawa approached, a brown brick of banana nut bread, a
bottle of cow’s milk, and a plastic jug of cider went into her canvas tote.
Seating herself comfortably on a small bench big enough to fit in a tiny
garden, Juri relaxed under the shade of a maple caressed by the breeze. She
tore off a thick corner of bread and added a bit of milk to her hazelnut coffee
in a thermos cup. For a moment she glimpsed at a pyramid of churned butter
containers in the baker’s booth regretfully, but she had no knife to spread it
with. So she made up her mind to purchase a tub or two of the salty sweet cream
before she left. For the moment she was content to concentrate on her
newspaper.
“‘Ohtori Sweeps District Semi-Finals for All-High
School Baseball National Championship Pennant. Considered its miracle worker,
pitcher with the right arm cannon Sudo Akihito, 17, is the center of swirling
rumors about his alleged recruitment by pro-ball draft scouts. His parents Sudo
Natsuki and Motoaki dispel the gossip stating, ‘Ryukoku University has already
sent him an acceptance letter.’ Sudo is a senior at Ohtori Gakuen and is
graduating this year.’”
Juri snapped the leaves of her copy of the Toho Shinbun
wanting to see the print slide off the paper that dryly blotted black on her
fingertips. He was a cheat and a louse; Juri’s pretty unpainted lips drew to
the slide in an ugly sneer as she deposited the folded paper into the steel
green mesh waste bin on the corner marching her way back to campus. The fine
weather brought joggers, dog walkers, and parents with prams to the park and
Juri deciding to blow off some of her frustrations took to the narrow granite
serpentine paths ensconced in carpets of green. She lay back in the bright sun
confident she wouldn’t get her cream slacks or rust satin blouse grass stained.
The sun gave an unnatural golden burnish to her tangerine curlicues and glances
by men and women were tossed her way. Then the air smacked of something
familiar. Springing upright she scrutinized the dark thicket of spruce in the
distance with thin turquoise eyes and bolted abandoning her cider.
* * *
Under the bridge by the still iridescent lake two
combatants collided, sparks flying from their sabers blasting away the oxygen.
“Come on Tenjou! Fight to win! Don’t tell me I’m wasting my time!”
“TAAAAH!!” She jarred her rapier against his and hard at
battle they were again. Neither was aware of the underbrush, twin fluorescent
amber beams hidden in the foliage powerful enough to destroy them, to watch
their charred empty carcasses whither to dust. How dare he? Was Tsuchiya
mocking her with that stripling? She had no carriage! No form! No grace! There
was talk, there always would be talk her mother always warned Juri, but she
evaded the babble with panache going about her business teaching her students,
running the team, attending classes, even involving herself with the tedium of
Seitokai formalities. And then his face had to turn up again. He hadn’t the
consideration to even speak to her once upon his return. Was there no news to
report? How was his family? Would he return to the council and the game? Was
there a remote chance to change his mind? Trifles that’s what they were and she
had moved on, Touga had finally invited her to be his partner for the upcoming
chairman’s ball permitting the family gave its consent for any of the Ohtori
clan to leave the compound. But he was negotiating with the matriarch for it to
go as scheduled in her husband’s honor. Touga had a demon’s silver tongue and
could persuade even a rock to bleed for him. There was no sense in beating a
dead horse so she left the same way she came.
An hour went by, their energy sapped, Utena and Ruka sat
against the brick wall sinking into the hill guzzled salt replenishing juice
from sports bottles.
“What am I fighting for exactly, Ruka? I thought this was
about the fencing team.” He finished his drink and with his eyes closed hurled
it into a bin 15 feet away where he made a basket that would put Ohtori’s star
basketball player to shame.
“Don’t believe the story do you? I’m not entirely
surprised.”
“I never said that.” Utena told him defensively.
“All mixedbloods suffer from terminal doubt,” Ruka
informed her.
Utena tipped her head
without conviction. “Terminal doubt?” There was something in Ruka’s story,
sinister and seductive, and things he omitted unsure if it was truly for her
benefit.
“It’s the best description I can offer you. There are
more like us at Ohtori- the world in fact- than you think.” This was unheard
of. Incredible! What hadn’t Aunt Yurika told her? What had she been missing out
on?
“What do you mean by ‘more of us’?”
“Mixedbloods,” Ruka explained, “are those who have one
human parent.” Utena’s thoughts immediately were with her mother; she was a
true innocent in every way therefore unable to predict the consequences of her
actions. But who would guess that marriage could be such an omen. She veiled
herself in silence allowing Ruka to continue. “Our kind can no longer afford to
survive on pride alone. The clan’s numbers are dwindling in the world so our
‘pure blood’ is thinning out. The last few generations have been unable to make
it though to the final stages, that has both positive and negative results.”
This jargon he used was no better than Utena trying to read Sanskrit. When this
was their topic of conversation he seemed to cipher everything expecting her to
read between the lines or was it that they were never quite alone? “I had
returned to Ohtori some months before you showed up.”
Utena had to speak, had to
let her lungs empty then fill with air or she might drown from anxiety. “Why
did you leave?”
“My grandfather died. The news came quite suddenly and
that I had to return home quickly.” His tone of finality intimated to her he
was uncertain of his future at that moment. Home would have meant a lifetime
prison sentence. “When an elder leaves this world, Tenjou, quickly an heir must
be selected to lead the clan or lest be chaos. My cousins are less… democratic
we’ll say about family affairs of such a sensitive nature. I have two older
siblings. My sister has a child and my brother is at present in graduate
school, neither was enthusiastic about receiving sponsorship so my mother
advised me to assert myself as a prospect. The executors of my grandfather’s
estate went into deliberation and reached consensus rather quickly for my
tastes and proclaimed me the new Alpha.” Again these terms escaped her like
morning dew sliding off grass blades. Every family had secrets and as Utena
grew and matured clues left behind from her parents’ shadows glimmered in the
dark like a dangling silver keys fastened to a chain made from dreams suspended
in the air over her palms. Was she not supposed to reach out and cage it
between her fingers and interleave it in the doors so wretchedly sealed and
foreboding teasing her in plain view?
“What does ‘Alpha’ mean?”
Ruka shrugged. “Ultimately
what you and I are. Why you and I have been given that,” he indicated to
her rose seal.
“You saw the prince too?” At that moment a weight dropped
and a seed planted, the clever lies that had been instilled in her psyche since
childhood were drying up and blowing away as autumnal leaves gave way to
winter’s crystalloid chill. She heard Ruka whisper, “Only those fortunate
enough to want the prince will see him. All others will have to suffice for the
ecstasy of suffering for their Rose Bride.” The Rose Bride. Himemiya Anthy. It
all made perfect sense now. Her most endearing roles was the one of the slave,
her coquettish air as she watered the roses adequately threw everyone
off-kilter as they were truly the virgin brides lining up for sweet sacrifice
tearing their teeth into a thickly honeyed apple disguising the poison beneath.
Feeling ten feet tall and pride swelling with in her noble breast, Utena went
back to the rose garden this time shining in broad daylight. But it was
Himemiya that took the preliminary steps and opened the door. She stood there
wearing a pleasant empty grin on her striking dark face; her hair was loosened,
as it was that night she was laid out and bared for Touga and Saionji holding
her golden pitcher now empty. Utena mutely followed watching the shift and
bulge of flesh and muscle under the linen of the Ohtori girls’ sailor fuku. The
material stretched over her sinuous distended curves maturely and voluptuously.
Utena’s throat was parched; Himemiya’s breasts and rear were fuller than
anticipated.
“Dozo, Tenjou-sempai.” Her voice was quiet and filled
with wonder but Utena followed her into the miles of rich florae, the humidity
wafting down from the tiers as the bushels of roses grew so tall passing the
galleries of some of Ohtori’s smaller edifices. Founts spurted water from
cherubic statues and spouts shaped like angelic faces. Seashell basins and
over-extended sandstone blossoms caught the overflow. The only bit of furniture
in the hothouse was a three-legged glass table that Himemiya set her pitcher
atop. Utena expected to see something labeled ‘Drink Me’ on it instead. “Please
sit Tenjou-sempai,” Himemiya showed her to a wide stone ledge surrounding a
depression in the floor accommodating blue and orange roses. What exactly
waited for her in this strange garden rousing fantasies of the light and
romantic but it was the reality of the dark and bold that enticed then ensnared
her here. Doors would be spread open to release the pure magic behind them.
“You are Himemiya Anthy?” Utena questioned unmoving from
her place on the floor.
“Correct.” The Rose Bride said nothing else waiting for
her guest to continue.
“Just to let you know I have been speaking to Tsuchiya
Ruka, so I know quite a bit.” Himemiya placed her pitcher under a cherub’s open
mouth.
“Do you now?” Utena blazing stepped forward and knocked
the pitcher from Himemiya’s grip. It clumped to the floor bursting water.
“How can you allow yourself to used like that? They’re
animals! I saw how much they wanted to tear you to pieces! Is there some kind
of sick reasoning behind that? What’s the purpose?” Himemiya turned away her
lips flattened and her eyes dropped to a more relaxed state one that appeared
to be natural for her.
“Tell me Tenjou-sempai, if you were that disgusted with
what you saw, why didn’t you leave?” Utena stepped back as though Himemiya
picked up her pitcher and doused acid on her. Her channel was smoothed over by
juice brimming within; the scent snapped up by any encroaching male would bring
Utena complications. Close enough for Utena to press her lips to Himemiya the
Rose Bride’s smile made a fetching comeback setting Utena’s nerves on white
fire. “A kiss then, for the brave prince.” The hangman’s noose of her buttery
textured limbs roped around Utena’s slender neck as Himemiya brought her head
closer to the taller, pale girl. ‘Like a witch,’ Utena thought
attempting to loose herself from Himemiya’s mad grip. The white sunlight pooled
then dissolved into her glacial green orbs, such icy beauty that Utena knew had
nothing substantial beneath the rollicking surface.
“What are you doing with the Rose Bride?!” Boomed a
hateful voice just beyond the entwined girls. The indecent scene played out
before Saionji, his fingers contracting around empty air so desperate to feel
under his calloused fingers the tsuka of his shinken. Utena struck and dumb by
the pair freed herself unsure of who was more frightening at the moment. “Who
are you? This is private property!” Saionji’s mouth rapidly fired rounds like a
minigun and he seized Utena by the arm drawing her closer, his nose pushing
into her hers. “You will keep your distance or…” The Fukukaichou needn’t close
his sentence. The clutch of a nearly fully matured male spoke for itself. Utena
weakly stifled her groans hearing the stress his fist made around her slim ulna
when he suddenly took the pressure off.
“Come now Saionji, we mustn’t treat our guest so rudely.”
A stroking voice bit and sucked the oxygen hotly swirling around the trio.
Kiryuu Touga poised for the warm kill as he zeroed in on Utena shut and locked
the door. A slim sick grin lit his pretty, angular face up as he arrogantly
approached. Saionji who was deathly quiet stood rigid as a soldier. “There are
always alternatives,” he suggested to his friend knowing his advice would
simply wash over the kendoka like a warm shower to whirl and belch down the
drain. Where was that damnable key! Utena scanned Touga’s white and red trimmed
jacket for a breast pocket and finding none she was paranoid to feast her eyes
lower. “I can’t imagine what Utena did so horrifically to upset you so.”
“Tenjou imbued herself where she had no right to be!”
Saionji shouted.
Touga replied coolly,
“Perhaps she saw something interesting.” He was focused completely on her to
whom Utena narrowed her blue eyes at his scornfully as he beckoned to her with
his filthy innuendoes. He swept past his friend homing in on Utena whose body
bent on revolt readying for a backlash seized her by the shoulders and slammed
her into the glass behind. Stunned and dizzy, as an amnesiac burrowing from the
thick dirt of a temporary grave Utena was in no form to stop his lustful
delving. “Ohhh yes…” he hissed bunching his soft fingers into her jacket
pulling it apart. Utena caught a spray of gold from between her dark rose lashes,
her coin buttons dispersed in every direction popping like frying butter in a
skillet. And there it was. The black tank shrouding her pert breasts was
rumpling out from the taut Lycra waistband of her red shorts, but it was the
sliver of gold shyly gleaning in the semi-darkness of Touga’s overbearing
shadow. It was the jacket that caressed and draped down her smooth legs before
hitting the dirt under her feet and gone was her tank, but she heard no cloth
torn nor were her arms raised for Touga to properly remove it. The little tab
of gold between her breasts shifted facetiously on her oily skin. Hagalaz, the
deformed ‘H’ with the connecting line at a slant. “A lesson taught is a lesson
learned,” Touga husked bringing Utena from her swoon. Her bared breasts she was
unaware of concentrating on Touga’s hypnotic mouth. “So you’re going to be the
one to bring revolution?” He challenged suspending a fist above her head, his
right arm barring her from any break out. Utena was at a loss. If what Ruka
rambled about twisted her mind in knots what Touga was purring made even less
sense. “To expunge the pain and suffering of the dark forces for all of us to
mend our ways and begin a new path… a golden opportunity for us not to miss.
Hagalaz is more than apt for you.” Touga ripped open his jacket
uncharacteristically hurling it to the floor. He exposed his gorgeous pectorals
and six-pack to Utena who only saw a swinging gold pendant much like her own.
“But here I’m pack leader, and no one tells me when my fun time is up.”
Utena’s eyes glazed over.
“You’re crazy,” unconscious of what she murmured.
“And you shall be my queen.” Touga said with a new
dazzling insane light brewing within his indigo-blue pools. Her advanced senses
branched out by the millisecond but her mind was no longer connected to her
body as it failed to heed any commands she shouted to it. An insalubrious
nebula of heady warmth veiled her body as the ground below left her feet and
met her bare back. Touga insinuating serpentine lightning bolts through every
glassine mental pathway and link that was just vibrating with the first fine
emotive pulses of life in Utena’s brain. She exuded a surprised yelp as Touga’s
heaving torso met hers. Utena dared not open her eyes as she felt the
additional two pairs of passionate stares barreling down on her, just simply
let her body shut down as Touga’s voracious tongue played around her lips and
teeth. Try as she might closing her legs was simply not an open option as
Anthy’s slim hands were at her waist to draw down her shorts. Binding her arms
down to the ground was Saionji she was sure since his hissing breath was
escaping from behind gnashed teeth, Touga was not as this impatient nor was his
every move laced with such bold fury. Taking care to unlace each oxford and roll
down her red anklets was Anthy. She gingerly rotated her smooth thumb around
the underside of Utena’s roughened heel sliding up to the balls of her feet;
the Rose Bride then repeated this on her other foot.
Once again on that highway where she met Ruka that night
Utena saw herself carried down that endless black, her hair ripped backward on
end on her scalp. Her chariot, a huge thrumming red machine she felt almost
flying apart from the demonic speed she was traveling at. Looking to her right
she saw her driver reclining on the calfskin white leather seats, an arm curled
behind him his left hand navigating the huge double ringed steering wheel.
Touga, his ruby satin mane a foot longer imitated a prince’s cape on the wing
his uniform a stunning black trimmed in gold complementing his sexy body doing
him better credit than his white one. A triangular red flap waggling like a
tongue in the breeze Touga pulled down on his jacket for comfort and the white
braids hanging from the gold disk epaulets that spanned his shoulders, one
looped beneath his left arm and the other weighted by a pair of gold spearheads
attached to his jacket undulated in the air. He turned to Utena, gone was the
stealthy cockiness from his eyes as they thanked her for simply accompanying
him on this leisurely drive. There were no pins to adhere the gold sunray tiara
in Utena’s wavy locks, tickling her rosy cheeks were the mint silk horsetails
on her overblown gold beaded shoulder ornaments. Utena felt sensual and
beautiful in her deep rose satin sleeveless military gown embracing her
athletic body. The petticoats so exaggerated they nearly filled the front seat.
Allowing her lithe figure movement was the skintight dress split up the front to
her hips edged in black, held closed by four large gold coin buttons. Her white
braid fluttered and her gold teardrop earrings swayed heavily. On each tiny
wrist was a pink satin cuff; Utena brought a hand up to tenderly brush her
fingers across the gold and emerald brooch at her throat. Touga’s right hand
clasped hers and Utena brought it down to rest in her lap.
‘Where are we going?’
He pointed upward. ‘Look
up! So many stars…’ A firmament of diamonds, each burned like archaic
bonfires whose clean glow dropped down to accent her jewel tone eyes. They shifted
and mapped out the future, Utena envisioned their convertible tracing each
constellation their destination unknown and unimportant. ‘I promised I’d
take you to them,’ Touga continued as Utena hypnotized with the stirring
skies above. ‘The stars won’t leave us… not ever!’
‘Oh Touga… there are so many stars!’ Tears crawled
down Utena’s cheeks. ‘I can see them in your eyes.’
‘And I see them in yours, Utena.’
‘I… I’m so happy…’ He grinned and switched the radio
on Utena’s buzzing ears catching a song she’d never heard before. Drawing her
close into his powerful chest she saw rising in the distance the faint
florescence of escalating spires and turrets of a sprawling crystal castle. A
fortress of light and sanctuary constructed within this bottomless hell just an
arm’s breadth away but never attainable, just something to bring your fingers
to as one spun on a caracole after choosing their weapon of preference waiting
for the bells to peal and the gates to roll down.
You answered my kiss with your teeth
My blood on your belly
My hips on your thighs
I drink your sweet whispers
I’ve survived on your lies
The first time you saw me you knew
Seized up nude on the tile
You looked and you laughed
I cried out to live, to take my revenge
I’ve parted your knees, pressed inside you
My body divides you, a white hot syringe
Baby, I’ve got a cruel Jones for you
Utena’s hands gaining purchase on the muscle play of
Touga’s back, he split her down the middle with his raging cock a hot, oiled
machine drawn in and out of her inlet. Her buttocks spanked the stones her
corded thighs clawed at his waist like a thing possessed. She babbled drunkenly
as she was ridden, bucking as a drowning victim on a tsunami-ravaged sea
dragging her body firmly on his lap to thrust viciously into her burning body
and Utena left to wonder cringing within at the painless sensation of his
entrance. Utena watched blearily as Touga’s cruel shaft was forced between her
seeping nether lips toying with her undeniable passion and his shiftless eyes
met hers and felt his hand leave her hip and worm its way down between their
joined bodies and his fingers tickling her. The wet filmy hood was lifted to
free her clitoris for him to squeeze in his fingers. He veins so thin and
constricted, dilated lubricated with her surging blood blossoming to the white
surface of her flesh where Utena’s jaw dropped as she sang her ecstasy, roiling
with abandon in her sex’s scalding cauldron. Her muscles clamped down about his
cock setting him off into an oblivious interim as Touga left his body
transforming into pure sensation. Plummeting into the tawny-crested waves of
the crushing sea Touga tumbled surrendering to the buoyancy of the heavy salt
water willing himself to sleep declaring his battle lost predicting the war
won. Propelling the saltine fluid with eloquent butterfly strokes was Utena, an
angel, lowering her arms down to his shoulders then finally face-to-face
pressing her lips to his. Touga’s respirations were smooth and easy; his
questioning eyes searched Utena’s smiling face adrift in the confining jewel
faceted marine.
‘I can’t do this alone.’ Unfair! Only here was he
loved, on the brink of mortality? These thoughts bled away as the sea foam
gurgled in retreat from the jagged rock facets protruding at all angles in the
hard packed brown sandbank like tombstones where his body washed up on a bed of
seaweed. Coming to, as expected he was alone. Free on this otherworldly
paradise Touga struggled to his feet, feeling them sink into the miles of
sugary sand as he entered the jungle. Gum, palm, and fruit trees arched over
him like green and brown caverns; mossy godlike mountains climbed above the
white, steamy clouds, and vines boldly connected everything together like a
singular life force. Blue pools, the runoff of mountain falls stowing fresh
water that Touga cupped his hands into and drunk deeply. Pebbly winding roads
pushed him into the very bowels of the island, blazing green and blue parrots
squawked and shrilled on boughs, whistling white cockatoos distracted him as
their yellow blunt beaks chattered musically. Coiling suspiciously were the
anacondas and lizards on fallen logs and saplings, pulling back into shadow as
Touga’s towering figure walked past. After a refreshing meal of a cassava,
which he sliced open with a sharp stone the wafting fragrance of passionflowers
and aloe led him into a lagoon. A calm silvery fall poured into a lake
surrounded by a glittering glassy cove that he knew to be made of geode stone.
About to leap in clothed Touga stopped short when the thick humid jungle smog
thinned and dissolved on the witch grass coated ridge and a white wolf bounded
out. She angled a front paw then turned and vanished. Touga felt strangely
abandoned but made no move to follow her.
‘Touga-sempai.’ Anthy stood behind him, her hands
clasped, interlocked fingers like snakes dormant on the satin folds of her
white and red Rose Bride costume.
‘Anthy. Where is Utena?’ Touga queried as though
she failed to keep her appointment. The Rose Bride dispassionate as a purple
rose shifted her emerald eyes to the left. Touga turned his body around to gaze
at the quiet waterfall and for the first time saw a gaping blackness secreted
behind the rushing water. Hopping down into the waist-deep lake he waded to the
opposite side and climbed up scaling the narrow rock ledge. For a moment Touga
stole one last glance at Anthy before venturing into the cave. Through the
water her figure did not distort. He walked easier hearing the water lap
against the volcanic rock throw aquamarine reflected light on the ceiling and
walls. A current of arctic cold caused him to bring his arms up to shield his
face and curl his upper body around. Bouncing off the rock was a hum as if a
tuning fork had been struck, picking up the pace he ran until he found the
origin of the noise. Carved out from the rock was a shrine as wide as the bay
window in his study back home. Limestone Buddhas of varied sizes were arranged
on the shelf. Incense stick cups were overturned, sensors were oxidized and decaying
from the mold and underground heat, funerary pinwheels still turned from their
slots in the sand. Armless doll-like figures, representations of the deceased
stood upright and everything was laden with a thick, filthy layer of volcanic
ash and gray dust resulting in discoloration. Saionji’s face came to Touga’s mind
and his best friend prodded him to make a show of respect. Touga folded his
hands aligning it with his face and bowed before moving on. Fundamentalist
Shintoists who were so superstitious they could not walk through a door without
performing some sort of ritual raised Saionji. It was when Touga visited his
friend’s family did he genuinely pity him.
The Seitokaichou was forced to squint
in the darkness until a firefly blip blinked demurely drawing him nearer. Touga
felt a relieved smile arch on his face when he saw it. If Anthy was a
moonflower then Utena was likened to a sunflower, she lay on a cross slab
materializing from a glittering dream under a shower of moonlight. But wait,
something was wrong! Touga stepped closer slowly trying to decelerate his
heartbeat when he noticed something out of sorts about Utena’s body. Her head tossed to the side and her legs folded over in the opposite direction Touga saw her midsection missing. A breeze flapped her white
nightgown around her ankles, his eyes traveling up the snail trails of pink
streaked from the blackened bloody mess that was once her abdomen. His yowl so
distant he was unsure whether it was because his throat burned from strain or
the screaming abyss rushing him like the sounds of the Starlight Waltz on an
invisible gramophone blasting all round him as he was twirled into the dance by
the lavender-haired devil he deified as he nearly launched him from the dome
topped tower from the blue and into the black.
TSUZUKU
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