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Anime/Manga Fan Fiction >> Revolutionary Girl Utena >> L' Chevalier De La Malchance
By Rob Barba
Ja ne, --Rob rob@mitsukai.com / mara@megami.net AIM: mitsukaicom ICQ: 121804090 Mitsukai! - "Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real." - Tupac Shakur -- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar -- -- File: 04 - Knight Moves.txt L' Chevalier De La Malchance By Rob Barba, with ever helpful banter and input from Matt Campbell Proprietary rights and notes listed at the end of the chapter. SPOILER WARNING: this series takes place after the end of the whole series...and I mean the *whole* series, though there are no plans to use elements of the movie. If you are familiar with only chapters 1 ~ 13 of the series (Vols 1 ~ 4 of Software Sculptors' videos), then you may want to take a backseat on this one. Otherwise, enjoy. Additional Author's note: to all Francophones (French speakers), the title is intentional. Whether you think it incorrect or not, it is being written this way on purpose. @}>---`---,---- "Tell me who admires you and loves you, and I will tell you who you are." -Charles Augustin Sainte-Beauve @}>---`---,---- Quatre: Knight Moves Venezia (Venice), Italy August 26, 200X Seated inside the historical Torre di San Marco, across from her target, Anthy was ready for the challenge of her life. She was ready to break into the legendary Cathedral of Saint Mark, considered by most the very heart of the sinking city. Within the aged walls of the church was the goal that she had to reach, the item that she had to acquire, which cryptically wasn't even an item, per se. For a professional thief like her, the mission was the pinnacle of her career. However, for Anthy it had far more meaning. For the past three days, she, Oriel, and Herv?who had come to help, despite the fact that he still worked for French Intelligence, to prove his loyalty to his former chief) had been casing the place, checking its defenses and security, as well as that of the outlying buildings and several possible escape routes. She'd mentally drilled over the place for the past three days, and they'd even taken a couple of responses from the mysterious Natasha Kirin in regards to what was inside, though those answers weren't really as forthcoming. But in the end, it was a single name that was making Anthy antsy, and that name was that of Calyx Goodskies. In Japanese, that name meant one of the most important things in the world to her: Utena Tenjo. But was she the owner of the name? Anthy didn't know, and there wasn't a way to confirm or deny short of tailing the mysterious Ms. Kirin and getting an answer from her. But that idea was discarded, and the answers remained murky. That still didn't make Anthy any less anxious. ((Knock it off!)) she mentally chastised herself. ((You're acting like a fawning schoolgirl, for crying out loud!)) Unmentioned by herself was the fact that when it came to Utena, "fawning schoolgirl" was a fairly accurate term. Even now, a decade since they'd last seen each other, Anthy's feelings for Utena were as unresolved as the day she unintentionally pushed her away. ((Do I love her? Does she love me? Is that what I want from her? Is that what she wants from me? Does she even remember me anymore?)) There was a cooing to her side, and Anthy shook, startled. The pigeon, noting that none of its brethren were up in the tower, headed back on its flight, to wherever it would end up at. Meanwhile, Anthy swore and punched the floor in frustration. ((Great, Anthy. Get spooked out by a set of flying rats. Nerves of steel. Right. What other levels of embarrassment am I going to sink to?)) Once more, she looked at the cloud-covered night. The plaza was empty, and there was no security around. Standing up in the tower, she said to herself, ((Sorry, Miss Utena, but I've got a job to do.)) Taking a second to tie her hair into a quick braid, she reached for the high-powered rifle at her side. Aiming it, she pulled the trigger, and there was a loud *CRACK* as the tungsten wire and grappling anchor sped across the distance to bury itself in the side of the roof, finding the purchase of footing as it was supposed to. Taking a few precious seconds to look all around to see if she'd caught anyone's attention, she allowed herself to breath a sigh of relief. Apparently, as always, the Carbinieri, the "vaunted" (and what a joke that was) federal police of Italy, were once again slacking on the job. Double-checking to see if the line was secure, then testing its weight, the thief the world knew as Chevalier whipped out a short pair of batons. Usually used for subduing people, tonight she would initially use them as counterweights for what she was about to attempt. Flicking each wrist to extend the baton, she alighted on the tungsten and Mylar line and began to slowly walk across it with a practiced ease. This hadn't been the first time she'd done it, though she was hoping this would be the last. Across she moved, 10 meters from the threatening expanse of marble below. But Anthy had skirted death many a time before in her long, long life, so this was nothing new. The line wavered and wobbled, symbolic of the life that she had led both as Chevalier, Rose, Anthy Himemiya, and the myriad of names that she and her siblings had led years before that. As she continued along the line, she found it ironic that just scant meters between her and the end of her own life, she should think of her sister. She hadn't heard from her for at least for quite some time now. The last clear memory that came to the woman's mind was back when they were living in Italy around the time of the Renaissance; life was much simpler then, when the three of them hadn't been at odds. Of course, that was back before Anthy's sister and brother turned to the darker side of their natures, allowing their more sinister instincts to come forth. Adhan had paid for it first, by a personality split to Dios and Akio, and the eventual self-immolation of both. Perhaps Ebah in time had done the same, and only Anthy had emerged unscathed. ((Or have I?)) she wondered. ((I'm not out for world domination, but then being the world's most notorious cat burglar is hardly what one could consider a saintly profession.)) There was humor in that, she assumed, but she wasn't sure where she could find it. Perhaps it was her daughter that prevented her from slipping into the pattern that seemed to be the eventuality of her family. Perhaps it was Ute- Her mind had wandered too much, and she slipped, one foot coming off the all-too-thin ersatz pathway. It was fortunate for her that she was able to twist at the last second, allowing her to catch the line by one hand, catching the loosed baton in her mouth and moving her extremities to prevent a jarring twang that would have snapped or damaged the line. Still holding on by a few short fingers, the thief quickly looked around to ensure that her error hadn't alerted anyone, she quickly sheathed the batons and slipped them into one of her cargo pockets, then adjusted her grip and proceeded to hand-climb her way across the remainder of the distance, all the while cursing herself for her own stupidity. ((I'm going to get myself killed if I don't concentrate on my work! Why am I so out of it tonight?)) she wondered. ((It's not like I haven't thought about her before, but I've never acted like this! Maybe I should scrub the operation for the night and reschedule later this week.)) However, just as quick as she'd thought it, she dismissed it. She was Chevalier, known for her professionalism and skills. If she were to back out now, even temporarily, it would ruin her perfect record. And even if this was coming out of retirement temporarily for Oriel's sake, Anthy owed it to herself to finish this one last mission. ((I just hope I don't make any more bonehead screwups, or I'm not going to live long enough to see the end of this mission,)) she mused as she slipped into the shadows of the great and ancient structure. @}>---`---,---- "Would you care for a drink, miss?" the man asked, in what he thought was smoothness (more accurately, half-slurred). Hoisting a bottle of some alcohol, calling up to her room and asking her to come down and spend some time with him. He was drunk and acting just like most of the other Italian men she had come across. ((They see a Japanese woman and go apeshit.)) It didn't help things that Asian women were rare in Europe outside of the Chinese and Vietnamese minorities in London and Paris, respectively. "No thanks," Nanami answered in a firm but not-too-irritated tone. "Just taking a breather while my husband is in the shower." "Well, if you ever change your mind, look me up," he half-shouted, apparently too drunk to realize he hadn't given her any means of identification. With a joyful shout, he walked off, stumbling into a nearby wall before course correcting and fumbling down the street. Turning away from the window, she looked at the room and whispered, "Oh Mits', I wish you were here." A thought came to her mind: had she actually married him, would all that happened to her since his death have been avoided? Or would Utena have come into her life anyway? Would both she and Mits' be here now, on a wild goose chase that the rose-haired weirdo had put her on? Or would they be here on a loving vacation, enjoying the supposed beauty that was trademark of this quintessential Italian town? ((I need to go back to bed,)) a part of her mind told her. But another part suggested that she go out for a walk, to get whatever that was on her mind off her chest. Today's thoughts had been metaphorically weighty enough to crush her, and she had to think it through in order to see where everything would take her next. That, it seemed, was more important than sleep. Grabbing her keys and what little pocket money she had, she headed towards the door to her room. For a change, she felt like some action, even if it was as simple as just going out for a stroll, was warranted. Better that than sitting in her room, brooding over thoughts that would drive her crazy. Nanami was sure that Mits' wouldn't want her to do that anyway. ((Besides, interesting things tended to happen at night,)) she mused as she opened the door, stepping out. @}>---`---,---- Potter's Creek, California, United States August 25, 200X The vintage 1980s 959 Porsche rolled on, its mighty masculine speed tamed by its mistress, a young Japanese woman with short, boyish rose-colored hair. In the seat next to her, another Japanese girl, her hair a shimmering emerald hue, had hers tied behind her in a sort of ponytail which was being undone by the wind as the little silver sportster raced down a solitary road in the farm country of central California. Their adventure had begun when the two had landed briefly in a small airport in Palm Springs before continuing on to the home that, Utena explained, belonged to none other than Nanami Kiryu. "Nanami?" Shiko asked. "*The* Nanami?" Utena nodded. "Yeah, she's an old dear friend." ((Who seems to have lost her ID,)) she added silently after hearing the message on the answering machine. ((What exactly is she doing over there, goofing off? Oh well, I guess I'll have to have those copies sent to her.)) "We won't be here long. Don't worry." Taking the time to pack a small bag of clothing and grab the keys to Nanami's car, the two were soon on the road again, racing down the westbound 10 freeway, then to the 5, until the hustle and bustle of southern California receded into the "grapevine" portion of the 5 nestled in farm country. "So where're we going now?" Shiko asked, after an interminable period of silence. "We're going to where I'm actually going to train you," Utena answered. "It's a friend's place, up by Visalia, where there's nothing but the forest around, perfect for our use. Palm Springs is a nice place, but I'm not stupid enough to train you in a desert. Neither you or I grew up in one, so the heat would pound us flat in no time." "What, is Jedi Master Utena Skywalker afraid of a little Tatooine heat?" Shiko said, teasing. "Has anyone told you that you've got _Star Wars_ on the brain?" Utena countered. "Not recently, no," Shiko added. "But seriously, Utena, I'm still amazed that you think I can be taught how to be a Jedi like you." The other woman sighed in bemusement, then said, "Look. I'm not a Jedi Knight. They don't exist." "This coming from a woman who wears black, carries a lightsaber, and has all those nice Force skills." Shiko deadpanned, grinning. "Shiko, this isn't some sort of game. You saw what Saionji was capable of. He would have killed you, regardless of if I was there or not. You saw the odds I was up against, and when you decided to join me, you acknowledged that you'd be taking odds like that as well. But you haven't really thought about that until now, have you?" she asked, seeing the look on the other girl's face. "Why should I worry about what odds I'm going to be up against if you're going to teach me those neat tricks?" Shiko countered. In turn, Utena just gave her would-be student a flat, emotionless stare, and a second's worth was all she needed to administer to get her point across to the emerald-hair. "No, I don't think I have," she admitted. "But you make it look all so ea - hey, what's that sound?" By the time the pair had heard the sirens of the Highway Patrolman, it was too late to slow down from their current speed to avoid the inevitable traffic ticket. As Utena slowed down the car to a stop, she said, "Let me handle this, Shiko. Watch and learn." Bold, sure, wearing reflecting sunglasses and acting every bit the typical motorbike cop, the man strode up to Utena's side of the car and said in an overly gruff tone, "License and registration, please. You do know you were going 110 in a 70 zone, don't you?" Utena gave him an even look, then moved her hand slightly as she said, "But I was sure that we did nothing wrong, officer." When Utena switched languages; the result was astonishing. To Shiko, it was flawless English, not so much as the skill of someone who had mastered it, but rather the tones of someone who'd known the tongue all her life. Though it was nigh impossible to tell if the officer's eyes showed the effects of any mind alteration, he certainly softened in attitude immediately. "Of course you did nothing wrong." Utena waved her hand again. "You were just concerned that two women, traveling alone on an empty highway could be a bad thing if we ran into trouble." The cop took off his helmet and glasses, revealing a gorgeous face, bleached blonde hair and killer baby-blue eyes. Giving the ladies a dazzling smile, he said pleasantly, "I was concerned that you two, traveling alone here on an empty highway, might run into some sort of trouble." Another wave. "But as you can see, we're perfectly fine, officer, and there's no need to worry." "But near as I can tell, you're fine, so I don't need to worry." Utena smiled and waved her hand for the last time. Behind her, she could sense Shiko's complete and utter stupefication, and that brought a slight smile to her lips. "So if there's nothing wrong, sir, we're glad to see that you're looking out for us, and we'll be on our way." "So, if there's nothing wrong, ladies, we here at the CHP are just glad to be looking out for motorists' safety. Just please be careful and drive safely, ladies. Have a wonderful day." Strolling back to his bike, he took just one last look at the women, as if to glance in wonder at their captivating beauty, then turned back to face where he was walking. Meanwhile, Utena just turned the ignition back on and continued on their way, driving at a safe speed until the officer was out of eyeshot. "Don't say it; I already see what's on that mind of yours. And to answer your question, it's a simple mental misdirection discipline." "You mean a Jedi Mind Trick, right?" Utena groaned. "What is it with you and this Jedi jazz?" Shiko grinned. "Didn't you look around my room? I'm the president of the local _Star Wars_ Fan Club chapter," she announced proudly before adding, "And I get to be a Jedi! Ooooh, this is going to be so neat!" Utena rolled her eyes. ((Should have expected this.)) "Shiko, let me ask you this: how 'neat' do you think it's going to be when you have to start killing people?" The other girl, drawn back into reality once more, chewed on that for a while. "We have to kill people?" Utena nodded. "I haven't had to, yet. Yet. But there might come a point in time where that may happen. You know what the lightsabres are capable of, what they can do. Sooner or later, someone is going to kill a person with one of them. It may have happened already." "What do you mean by 'someone'? Are you saying we're not the only ones with them?" "You really didn't notice the black cylinder at Saonji's waist the other night?" "I was preoccupied, if you remember," Shiko replied in an acid tone. "Well, *I* noticed it. I don't know how many of them are out there, but what I do know is that someone else is creating them. If I have to use a _Star Wars_ analogy to explain - and believe me, I'm loathe to - I think someone is turning the other Rose Duelists, especially those that were on the Council, into Sith fighters. I can't do this alone, and I'm too worn out to continue trying. I need help, which is why I've recruited you and maybe some others." "Others? You mean Nanami's one of your padw...um, apprentices, too?" "Sort of. She's a friend, not an apprentice. Her skills don't fall in the same category as yours do, but she's been a friend that I can count on." ((Even if she's been living in a bottle for quite some time.)) "What I mean by others is that there are some out there that have the skills that you and I have. There are a few of them that haven't been picked up by one of the branches of the Order of the Rose, but that could change soon. There are also those who have been fighting for far longer than I have, and you're going to meet one of them soon enough." "Now you've really got me confused. I have no idea what you're saying." Utena sighed. "Shiko, I've been fighting for what feels like forever, and half the time I'm not sure if I understand it myself." The pair could find nothing further to say as the car continued to lance down the twisting road, headed towards its objective. @}>---`---,---- Kagoshima, Kyushu, Japan August 25, 200X A girl, scarcely older than eighteen, walked over to the hooded person sitting at the desk in the middle of the dark, empty room. "I am in meditation," the hooded man said, his calm and pleasant voice not only holding the undertone of command, but a hint of invitation as well. "This had better be important." "It is, my Lord," the girl replied, setting a report in front of him, she commented, "We have problems on several fronts. The Guerre du Monde is currently waging a takeover attempt in Singapore, far away from their sphere of influence. We've been given no current reports from the current Dueling Champion as to what they're up to." "I'm not surprised," the man answered, a hint of a smile playing across his face. "Wil is clearly being a pompous ass again, acting as though he were Alexander, once more on the trail of conquest. But there's no reason to dally on that right now. Please, continue." "Yes sir. Lord Saionji also reported that his men failed to capture Kageyama Tomomi, the girl known to the Council as Shiko. Apparently she was rescued by another woman who, according to some of the troops' reports, was carrying an energy blade of some sort." The man turned his eyes completely towards the woman. His gaze was one of storms on the horizon, a cool haze gray that could explode into natural force at any moment. "An energy blade, did you say?" The girl, unnerved by the man's glance, audibly gulped. "Yes, sir. If I read the report correctly, it could not have been anything else. Too many people reported the same thing for it to be a coincidence." "Are you sure it isn't a coincidence?" Not expecting an answer, the man sat there, quiet, as if running through his own array of thoughts. "Of course, you are correct. It seems that the Prince has finally unearthed herself after all this time. Amusing, that - I wonder what she plans to accomplish after so long?" The man reached for a nearby glass of wine, raised it to his lips and took a sip, tasting the floral beauty of the vintage. "How go our affairs in Europe? By that, " he clarified, "I mean the new Ohtori academies. I've already well aware about the current fiasco regarding the Guerre." "Variable reports, sir. The council members in the various nations are reporting mixed success. The highest percentage of admissions to our schools is primarily in Ireland and Belgium. England and Switzerland are in second, followed by most of the other nations. Recruitment is worst in Spain, Italy, and Greece." "I see. Have the other councilors contact me to arrange for a meeting regarding this situation. And what of the Rose Bride? Any word from her?" "No sir. The last time I received a report regarding the Rose Bride, she was back at the main campus, operating under her job as the Dean of Women's Affairs." "I apologize, I didn't mean *that* Rose Bride. What I meant was the girl we've redesignated Chevalier - Anthy Himemiya. What of her?" "Our agent has lured her into the web. There's little chance that she'll survive this time." "Good. Our business is at an end." Finally, he put down the wine goblet and said, "My, you're an attractive girl. Are you aware of everything it means to serve a member of the Council?" "O-of course," the girl said, a bit nervous. "Timid, are we?" the man asked. He smiled a bit more, waving his hand and adding, "Come closer. Don't worry, I won't hurt you." With a mechanical, wooden gait, the girl nervously moved towards the man. As soon as she reached him, he waved his hand and said, "You needn't be frightened, am I right?" "I needn't be frightened," the girl answered in a dreamy, dazed voice. He waved his hand once more. "And you know that you serve the Council, do you not?" "Yes, I serve the Council," she responded. Her eyes were a complete blank now, her face not registering anything at all. "And you came here just to serve me," he said, waving his hand one last time, finishing it with a slight tap to her lips. A spark of red appeared there for a second, before disappearing. "Yes," she said with a sultry smile, though her eyes were still empty. The girl began to undress herself, letting her clothing slide to the floor, revealing the silky smooth flesh of a girl that seemed to at least physically yearn to be touched. Gently, she climbed into his lap, removing his hood and began to kiss him gently, moving her hands all over him. The man sat there, slightly amused as the girl played with his long ruby hair. Though he was becoming aroused by her, in truth he knew that he couldn't truly be attracted to this girl; though she had long rose-hued hair and piercing blue eyes, should could never even come close to being the original. Toga Kiryu, head of the Rose Council, the de facto head of the Guerre du Monde, and the Chairman of the Ohtori International Unified Council, was as bored as ever, and after so long still wished to possess the girl known as Tenjo Utena. Nothing else truly burned in his heart as much as she did. Ten years had passed since he last saw her, and after all this time, he hadn't forgotten her. Instead, he'd taken the time to learn the forbidden skills that Akio promised to teach him, and when Akio died unexpectedly, he'd made sure that Toga passed on the skills to the rest, and found the new Rose Bride, she that would lead them to Revolution. But enough of that; now was not the time to worry about such matters, he thought as the girl slowly and deftly moved her hands towards his pants. And as she began undoing them, for a second he wondered if Revolution meant that he would finally possess what he wanted. ((Utena, soon you will be mine....)) @}>---`---,---- Oriel looked over the intelligence once more. The paperwork on Natasha Kirin, or whatever her real name was, was top of the line fakeries; it would have taken someone of her skills or an expert customs agent to see through the clever deception. At the moment, the classified laptop that Herv?r /> had thoughtfully provided was searching through every database available to French Intelligence to see if there was a match. So far, it had cleared the INTERPOL, FBI, and NATO databases, and there was no sign of the girl. Asleep in the other room were Oriel's granddaughter and Anthy's own child. Though she'd scolded both for committing such an illegal act, Oriel knew that Miri had been a street urchin before she was taken under Anthy's wing, and some habits died hard. Additionally, something about "Natasha Kirin" bothered Oriel deeply. If Kirin wasn't a player, then she was being used as a smokescreen for somebody who was. Also, no self-respecting intelligence agency in their right mind would use a person like Kirin for such an overt agent. Someone was playing them all for a game, someone like this Calyx Goodskies. Oriel opened up a second window and tapped in a new search string: Calyx Goodskies, in regards to any remote thing that could tie with Anthy. So far, in the two seconds that it had come up with a relation, is that Anthy was French for "flower", and a calyx is a part of a flower. No other relations had come- ((Utena.)) Oriel looked at the next database entry, then halted the search. Calyx in Japanese was Utena. Anthy had once had a very close friend in her past with that name. Could this Calyx person and that Utena person be one and the same? Or was it something else? After all, when all was said and done, the computer came up with seventy-eight possible matches between Calyx and Anthy, only one of which was the Utena lead. "Oriel, you're up a bit late tonight." Herv?ntered the room, bearing a tray with coffee and pastries. "I take it you're waiting up for Anthy, eh?" "Of course." The older woman smiled, the faint grin dancing in the light. "She reminds me so much of when I was L' Revnant for the Resistance. But I didn't have a child when I was her age, so she's one up on me there, and there is so much more that she has to contend with that I don't." Oriel took the cup of coffee gratefully, taking a sip and closing her eyes, enjoying the cloying smell. "I have a duty to that girl. I called her out of retirement this one last time when I promised her I'd leave her be, and if she were to die now, I could never forgive myself." "You're worried that something's going to happen to her, aren't you." It wasn't a question. "I thought that this was a simple operation for her skills, a mere trifle of her talents. Now, I wonder if we haven't stepped into the spider's web, and the eight-legged beast is on the sidelines, waiting to make its appearance." @}>---`---,---- Mostly masked by the darkness, Anthy moved swiftly around the outer edge of the Cathedral. She was going to have to be completely quick if she was going to make it out of here. Letting her mind focus, she began to mentally filter out the sounds of the pigeons and ambient nightlife from what usually indicated the presence of people. For a second, she considered using her powers, but halted - some people were sensitive to that; those were the "lucky" and "instinctive" ones who seemed to always come out on top, and no one could understand that it was their latent sensitivity that guided the way. Finding the nearest entry into the building, she scrambled around inside, waiting for who might pass by. Granted, it wasn't like it was going to be an armed guard or anything - this was a church, after all - but all it would take would be some priest wandering about in devout prayers to screw up everything. If she were to run into such a person, it would make for a very interesting situation. Anthy had to smile at that. ((If he only knew. Then again, considering what history has marked me down as, maybe not.)) But she had to smile slightly at the bizarreness of the whole situation, knowing that when one is an immortal, sooner or later some stories are going to build and be transferred into human legacy, even if not entirely true. Footsteps sounded against the stone floor, the sound of each footfall resonating back to Anthy. The tap didn't sound right, and came off too heavy, as though it weren't shoes that the person was wearing, but something harder and heavier. Sure enough, the person passed Anthy by without seeing her (though that had been due to the laxness of the sentry rather than any of Anthy's skills) and the Chevalier got to see what she was up against. ((Hrm. Don't know too many priests that dress in urban camouflage and carry around Kalashinkov rifles. Without saying, something's up, and I don't like it.)) Moving as swiftly as she could, she raced down the halls, her footfalls light enough to sound like nothing more than the soft patter of a cat's footsteps as she moved. The footwear she wore to do this cost a small fortune, but was more than worth it, just by the sound - or lack thereof - of her footfalls. Twirling around the corner and quickly crawling into another portcullis to avoid being spotted, she snapped open a case at her side and pulled out a small pair of binoculars. Set for night vision, the jade-green hue in the ambient light lenses revealed no less than ten guards, all armed to the teeth and without a doubt, keeping something out. But the question was, why? Suddenly it occurred to Anthy that there might be something more to what was going on than what she or Oriel was being told. Which, she thought as she put the binocs back and dashed towards the next safe point, brought up the questions again: was it Utena behind all of this? Or was it someone else? What if it *was* Utena? Had she contacted Anthy intentionally, or was she merely hiring Chevalier, not knowing the true identity of the person behind the metaphorical mask? A part of Anthy's psyche asked, ((what if it's her knowing it's you, and she's still willing to feed you to the lions for whatever?)) Anthy couldn't answer that. She wasn't sure she wanted t- Once again, the distraction proved to be nearly her undoing, and only her luck, combined with her talents working in ambience, managed to save her. Tripping over a loose floor stone she hadn't noticed earlier, she fell, bouncing painfully and rolling under a centuries-old stone bench that had been there since the inception of the cathedral. Mentally cursing her stupidity and rubbing her bruised hip, she soon changed her tune as several more guards hurriedly ran past the space where she'd been, without even seeing someone occupying the area underneath the bench. She would have been caught or forced to use her powers otherwise; there had been no other spots to conceal herself for at least several painstaking meters. As the last guard's footsteps vanished in the distance, she allowed herself to breathe, wiping the perspiration off her brow and wondering why the hell this mission seemed so much harder than the others. But in truth she knew why: she was doing a job for Utena. ((Maybe. I still have no idea, and I'm going to get myself killed if I can't take my mind off her! These guys obviously mean business, and....)) Anthy pictured a grim image in her mind: her daughter, alone, weeping over Anthy's grave. That alone was enough to send iceblasts down the thief's spine and force her to be more careful about what was transpiring. She was going to have to force Utena out of her mind if she was going to make it through this mess. There would be time later to gush about what could be, but what could be *would be* her undoing, otherwise. Gingerly moving out from under her hiding position, she looked around and noticed it was clear; a secondary search via night optics confirmed that. Quietly footpadding it as quickly as possible to the door from which the others came, she opened it as quickly as she could, hoping that no one heard the near-silent squeak that issued from the ancient door's hinges. Slipping into the room with the agility and speed that she had, she closed the door behind her, glad to know that she wasn't seen. However, just to be sure, she pulled out her night opticals and quickly scanned the room. When it was confirmed as clear, she took silent exhalation of relief, wiping a rare bead of nerves-induced perspiration from her brow. That was when she heard the faint wisps of chanting. A two-tone Gregorian sound, it wafted to her like the summoning from God, the Almighty calling her to come forth. There was something beautiful about that music, something that soothed her and eased away, if only for the briefest of moments, all her cares and worries. But there was something equally dangerous in that music, something that lulled her yet coiled around with the ability of a tenor anaconda, claiming as its own and refusing to let go. In that realization might be a falsity, but it was better to trust her own instincts now than to walk into a trap. ((No more than you've done many a time more in her life,)) she remarked to herself silently, as she approached the area of the music. @}>---`---,---- Ohtori, Kyushu, Japan August 25, 200X The pair met as always, by the rose fresco. They'd been friends forever, but there was an undercurrent that they were aware of now, as though they were the onlookers in a grand tale that had swept them up and held them fast, to watch, record and digest. Once there had been three of them who had been kept in this bubble of safety, but now one of their own had now moved from onlooker to participant; would that also be their fate as well? "Have you heard?" one asked. "Have I heard?" the other replied. "Do you know? Do you know?" "Know of?" "The tower!" "The tower?" "A tower sinking into the peat of time." "The swamps of antiquity, the bog of the past?" "The very one and the same." "And of this tower, there is a maiden," the second answered, not exactly knowing where the answer came from. "Yes, the maiden, the madam butterfly." "The Butterfly enters the web, the spiders wait for their due." "Will the spiders wait, or will they pounce?" "One never knows. Salvation may yet come for those on gossamer wings." "Upon wings?" "Upon wings, upon strings and perhaps even other things." "Is that so?" "It is so." "Do you know?" "Do you know?" "Do you really, really know?" @}>---`---,---- It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at their destination. The place in question was a small mountain village southwest of Visalia, a place by the name of Lonely Ridge. As they drove through the town, Shiko thought the name certainly fit the place: she'd heard stories about "one horse towns" in America, places even smaller than the little town she was from. Now, she realized that in comparison to this burg, Hakkone may as well have been Tokyo...okay, maybe Yokohama, but still.... It took her a few more minutes to realize... "Um, Utena, people are staring at us." "Of course. They're not used to seeing Porsches out here. This is SUV and pickup country. And while we're chatting, Shiko, get used to using English. It's going to be your primary language from now on." "'From now on?' Define from now on." Utena nodded. "From now on. As in, for the rest of your days. As in, one-fifth of the world speaks it as their primary language. As in, 80% of the world speaks it to one degree or another." "Yeah, but why English?" In response, Utena merely looked around at the signs and other writing, completely in English, with the rare phrase or two in Spanish. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Shiko added, "I see your point." "I'm glad you do." Shiko groaned; she had the mechanics down in writing, but somehow she never felt she could speak it well enough. Hesitantly, she took the plunge. "I not good as you." "You'll learn. I've had years of practice, so much so that I sound like a local myself." There was a melancholy tone in those words, and for a slight second, the emerald-maned woman could see the fragile, lonely rose-haired girl that Utena had once been. Then that moment was gone, and the Utena of now returned, blocking off everything in a determined, steely gaze. Shiko wanted to say something, but backed off, somehow guessing that the moment wasn't quite right. As if divining that something was left unsaid, Utena flashed a comforting smile and said, "I'll work with you to help you get better at it, okay?" They drove almost all the way completely through the town, before taking the second to the last right, heading up the hillside. Two more roads later and passing through a neighborhood with children playing in the yards and adults chatting with each other, Shiko continued to wonder where they were headed. Her question was answered a minute later as Utena made a left turn into a cul-de-sac, then into the lone driveway on that dead-end. "Here we are," Utena announced, taking the keys and grabbing her bag out of the backseat. "Your new home." "Home?" Shiko parroted, wondering what Utena meant by that. "Well, for the moment anyway." Utena shrugged. "If you want to get a place of your own later, that's up to you. Or maybe you'll end up like me, though I hope not." The look on Utena's face was unreadable as she said that; she then smiled and said, "But you'll like it here. It's a nice place for us to train, and though it's not, um, what was the name of that place...Dagobah, that's it...it'll still suit our needs." "I not mind," Shiko admitted lightly as she grabbed her own bag out of the car and began to look around at the place. "I more home in mountains, anyway. Place reminds me of home, just bit." "About time you showed up." A booming voice called out to them, and a large, if aged, man stepped out of the home. "I was expecting you about half an hour ago." Shiko looked at him and stood in awe. Though the man looked to be in his fifties or sixties, he was built far better than many half his age; only the wrinkles of age and the iron-gray in his hair and bushy mustache belied his true age. To the young woman he reminded her a lot of a Western sort of Shogun, a powerful lord that held court in his castle. "CHP," Utena replied. "You drive too damn fast, I've told you a million times," he responded, crossing his arms in a clear sign of displeasure. "I'm young. I'll live." "Not if you plow into a guardrail." "I haven't yet." "Always a first time for everything." It was during the conversation that Shiko realized something about the man: he was playing sort of devil's advocate to Utena, deferring to her, if not necessarily according her the same awe that Shiko did. It also occurred to her that Utena and this elder gentleman were very friendly. Were they mates? Utena was far different than her high school days, admittedly; that Utena had been a tomboy who was rumored to sleep around towards the end of her days at Ohtori, some saying she even went both ways. Or was this just a friend? His next set of words banished those thoughts, and brought about new ones. Pointing his chin at Shiko, he asked, "So who's this one? She looks a bit too soft for you." "She's not my type," Utena responded just as gruffly. "Besides, she's just a friend, and she's my new student." "Ah," the man replied thoughtfully. "And don't you start getting any ideas either, you old pervert," she snarled, wagging a finger at him in challenge. "I didn't bring her to entertain *me*, so don't think I brought her here for *you* either, got that?" "Never entered my mind," he answered, tongue snapping harshly at Utena. The two stared at each other with icy daggers, and for a second or two, Shiko felt as though she'd have been safer if she cleared out of Ground Zero, say, a nice buffer zone distance of six kilometers or so. Surprisingly, the man smiled and held his arms out to the rose-hair. "You've been missed, kiddo. Good to have you back." His arms wrapped around her in an apparent spine-snapper of a bear hug. She returned the embrace just as much as she could. "Good to be back." Breaking from it, she finally acknowledged Shiko. "Hey, Shiko, this is Kimball Porter. Kim, this is Tomomi Kageyama, but you can just call her Shiko - everyone does." Turning back to Shiko, she said, "Kim here is going to teach you the sword arts, since he's far better than it than I am." "You're too modest. You're the better swordfighter." "Well, you're the better *teacher* - I have no patience for that sort of thing. As for me, I'll be teaching you disciplines and techniques....those 'Jedi' tricks you seem to be so fond of." Kim rolled his eyes. "'Jedi?' Don't tell me she's...." "President of the local chapter of her fan club, so she says." A gleeful, catty smile appeared on Utena's face. "An' she's all yours." Kim, without explanation, buried his face in one large hand. "Shit. Figures you'd do this to me." It was then that sudden realization dawned on Shiko's face. With a cry of astonishment, she cooed, "You Kent Portman! *Kent Portman!*" Utena stifled a laugh while Kim muttered, "I swear, that stage name's going to haunt me for the rest of my days...." Deciding to take his medicine, he looked Shiko straight in the eyes and answered, "Yes, I'm Kent Portman. Rather, I used to be. I've put my acting days behind me, such as they were." "But you guy who lost to-" "Yes, I lost the part of Luke Skywalker in the films to Hamill. My advantage was that I've known the kendo and jigenryu sword arts since I was a kid - we had a Japanese neighbor from the old country who taught me everything he knew - so I was a natural for the lightsaber bit, but it appeared that Lucas wanted someone who could actually act his way out of a paper bag. I'm not bitter, though - I've done enough B-films, direct-to-video specials and crappy commercials to make a living. I can't complain much about my life," he said, even though it was clear that there were things left unspoken. "But why you-" "-Shiko, it's been a long day," Utena interjected in Japanese quickly. "Tell ya what: let me show you to your room, and it'll give you enough time to unpack and relax before dinner. And believe me, you'll want to relax - tomorrow's going to start a very long time for you." The tone that Utena used was one that Shiko had never heard before from the other woman; one that was friendly yet stern and clearly brooked no argument. It was the tone that the master would use with a student, and at once it was clear that their relationship had changed. Deciding that discretion was by far the better part of valor, Shiko followed Utena into the house, with the watchful eyes of Kim. A few minutes later, Utena came back, a weary look on her face. "Shiko, Shiko, Shiko," she said in an exasperated tone. "She doesn't understand what she's getting into, not in the least." "I take it she's rattling on about my near-brush with fame, huh?" "Yeah; don't be surprised if she interviews you for her fanclub newsletter or something," Utena said with just the barest trace of mirth in her voice. But that humor disappeared as she added, "But she's so fixated on being a 'Jedi' that she doesn't understand the realities of being a Duelist and all that it entails. People get killed, maimed and all that. I haven't had to kill yet, but...." Her words trailed off, as though she choked off something blisteringly painful for her to utter. "You told her, didn't you?" Kim said, sitting down on a chair on the porch and fixing his eyes on the rose-haired woman. "Yes, but you know as well as I there's a difference between explanation and action. I could explain all day and she's never going to understand until she's actually out there doing it." "So you took a babe and threw it into the woods again, in a matter of speaking," he replied, his tone firm but not unkind. "You're troubled by something, and it's not just the fact that you've got another assistant." Utena responded by not responding, and in response, Kim motioned to a chair next to him, beckoning for her to sit down. As she relented and moved for the chair, he flicked his hand slightly and the chair moved the six inches towards Utena, facilitating her comfort. "I see you've been practicing," she said with a weary smile. "But yes, you're right. I am bothered. And you obviously know why, I'm not going to hide that from you." "Marcy loved you," he responded out of the blue, as though it made no sense to say it. Yet the phrase may have been the most important thing in the world, based on Utena's reaction. Her words more caustic in tone than they'd ever been before, she turned every negative iota in her body against herself. "I hate myself. I swear, I hate myself. I don't understand how you can't hate me, much less forgive me for my failure." "I don't hate you and you weren't at fault - there's nothing to forgive there. Instead, I should be thanking you for what you did: you saved her, loved her, brought joy into her life, and gave her something to live for...until...." Pain entered Kim's tone and his eyes took on a grim glare. "That's why I'm with you, Utena. I want revenge." "There is no such thing as revenge, only justice," she replied, sounding as though she wasn't sure of her own words. "Besides, I've known too much pain and sorrow in my life based on something as stupid as revenge. I am where I am now because of revenge - and not even mine, either. If things had been different, I would have been a housewife in Japan, or maybe a teacher at a school somewhere - anything but the non-entity I am now." "Marcy never thought you a non-entity," Kim responded, taking Utena's hands in his. "She thought you were the sun and the moon and all that flowery stuff." Utena smiled gently, and her eyes glistened with the first signs of tears to fall. "Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that." "I meant it. But the question now, is: what next, especially for you? Obviously we see this to the end, but then what happens to you?" "I don't know," she whispered. "I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago." @}>---`---,---- The first thing that Shiko felt made a chill run down her spine. This was a mausoleum. Utena was making her stay in a mausoleum. She could feel the touch of death here, could sense it easily through the ability that others called "the sixth sense," but now something that Shiko realized was just the edge of her own powers, the powers that Utena told her had existed and now would work to bring to full bloom. ((Will I see the spirits of those long gone when my powers are at their fullest?)) she wondered, ((Or will I just sense them stronger, feel them more to the point that I know they're there, as if they're standing beside me, but unable to do much more than that?)) The very concept unnerved her; coming from a culture so in tune with the dead as Japan was, the fact that she would be more in concert with those senses than many of her countrymen was something that was so unnatural. So unreal. ((So very cold and sterile, just like this museum of the dead.)) Shiko put her bag on the bed, unsure if she should unpack. Granted, as far as mausoleums went, this was a nice looking one. And to the casual eye, this merely appeared to be a guest room, the room of a child that had moved away to brighter fortune and a different future. But Shiko wasn't stupid. True rooms like that were changed to the neutral settings of an actual guest room; they weren't left as though someone still lived here. Plus, the room was too clean; a clear sign of someone who was dusting on a regular basis in homage to that person that had lived here before. Clearly then, someone had once lived here, someone close to Portman-sama...er, Mr. Porter. Someone who was no longer here. A daughter, maybe? He was old enough for it. Maybe a sister, or a female relative, certainly someone he was close to. There was just too much attention paid to this room for it to be chalked up to coincidence. Shiko idly remembered the last time she'd been in a situation like this. Back during her University days, she'd stayed the weekend at a friend's home in Kawasaki, in what she thought was a nicely decorated guestroom. It turned out, however, that in truth, the room had belonged to the girl's older sister, who had died of an unexpected cancer the year before. Throughout the entire time, her friend's mother seemed on the verge of tears, for allowing Shiko to somehow violate the sanctity of that room. It was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that she didn't get over, nor the fact that somehow she could sense the other girl, as though her spirit still remained. At the time, Shiko merely thought she was imagining things, but now.... Whispering to the air as softly as she could, she promised she would do as little as possible to interfere with the current situation here. Feeling that her words would be enough to suffice ( ((they'd have to be,)) she mused, ((as it's all I've got)) ), she began to unpack her bags - pretty much all that she had in the world - and place her clothing in the bureau that was (no surprise) still filled with the clothes of the prior occupant. As she set those aside, she noticed the picture sitting on the dresser. The picture seemed to be several years old, and by the look on Utena's face, taken in much happier times. There she was, with her hair still long, sitting at an unidentifiable beach, her arm around another girl, one with short blue hair and a beatific smile on her face. The girl also appeared to be several years younger than Utena, but seemed to be on equal footing with the quasi-Jedi. There was no sign of weapons or the usual aura of ferocity that Utena wore like a cloak, and had Shiko not known Utena over the last two days, she would have thought this to be an entirely different person. Lifting the picture up for a closer inspection, Shiko couldn't help but wonder who the girl was. Was she a prot?e? A close friend? A lover? Also, what happened to this girl? Something had happened to her, Shiko was sure of that; if not death, then something else lengthy and tragic enough to warrant this living museum - comatose, maybe? ((This is none of your business,)) she told herself, but argued right back with, ((it *is* my business. I'm Utena's understudy now; if something happened to this girl, maybe the same could happen to me and it's something to be aware of.)) Setting down the picture, she resolved herself to ask one of the other two later. This might be her only chance to find out, and if what they were saying about tomorrow was even remotely true, it was going to be intensively painful for her to move, much less think. @}>---`---,---- There was a meaning behind the term "freak storms", Nanami thought sullenly, and she had just discovered one of those meanings. A minute or two past, it looked as clear as clear could be, until she was several kilometers away from the hotel. That's when the lightning came in a silvery jag that lit up the air, followed by what felt like tons of water coming down from the sky. She'd heard the Italians had a saying about rain - "God left the shower on" - and if that was the case, it was clear to her that He wasn't big on water conservation. Fortunately, a colonic for her was available in the form of a 24-hour store that she passed by. Taking the time to spend what little money she had left on an umbrella, she was soon out the door again, ugly blue fabric shield holding fast against nature's toil. For the ultimate time, she asked herself, what possessed her to come out here in the rain? Nothing seemed to register normal in her life anymore, and certainly this was just another chapter in the Misadventures of Nanami Kiryu. A decade ago, she'd been the belle of Ohtori Academy; now she was a lonely, depressed and (very recently) recovering alcoholic whose only real friend was someone who both befriended and used her equally. Was it something she deserved? Was this the rest of her life - to be forever walking in a city of beauty and love, to be alone and depressed, watching the endless drops of rain fall just as the chances of life they enumerated slipped out of her hands as well? Funny, she realized, how the tears wouldn't come. Funny how much she'd flip-flopped lately, how she'd been so sure and certain for one minute, then to realize that she was lost with Mits' at her side. Considering the sort of person she'd become, would he have stayed with her? Would she even have become the person she was now had he been here? The endless patter of rain gave no answer, even in its rhythmic tones. The endless sheets of gray spelled no answer in the skies or the streets, and what little luminescence that the street lamps gave off held no key to deciphering the non-existent code held within the inclement night. In short, no answer would come, and Nanami, like so many trillions of people that had lived since the very dawn of man, would have to find her own answers for herself. Funny, that in all of that time, she picked the worst weather to want to see St. Mark's Cathedral. During the majority of her stay here, it hadn't meant much to her, as she'd been far more interested in seeing Murano Island and all the expensive things she was going to purchase and ship to her home in Palm Springs. Then there was the fashion district, and a thousand other places to see - religion, especially Christian religion, wasn't something she was here for. But two things that Mits' said to her came into her mind at once, strangely enough. The first was something he'd picked up from a philosophy class, and it became a favorite saying of his: "All beliefs engender insights into a greater truth." It was something deep and wise and so quintessentially Mitsuru. But more so was something else he quoted often, an Americanism that hit her far more prevalently in the here and now: "There are no atheists in foxholes." Here she was, in a very dangerous situation (as in, running around in a very foreign country, all alone and with no identification), and she was suddenly filled with a need to go see the Cathedral. It made no sense. Yet, it was the most sensible thing in the world to her in the here and now. Braving the rain, she strode on, walking with no true idea of where she was going and hoping that she would reach there soon, before the rain soaked her to the bone. @}>---`---,---- It took a long time for Anthy to identify the feeling that she was going through at the moment. Eventually, though, it came to her, and that feeling was one of complete and utter serenity. She'd noticed this as she'd gotten closer to the chanting, and though she was more than aware now of its entrancing effects, there was some sort of power to the music, not unlike her own talents, that seemed to be the balm to all her current pain and problem. For a second or two, if she could allow herself to relax, she would have felt as though she were back in the rose garden in Ohtori, back when there were only the roses to worry about, one of the few times in her nigh-eternal life that she'd felt anything approaching true peace. There'd been several times like that in her life, but those days were the most recent, especially when thinking of... "Enough! Don't you have better things to do?" The shout came down from below, sharp enough to cut through the serene music and bring the whole thing to a sudden, jarring halt. The voice spoke in English, an accented one that lilted up and down in its musical tones; Anthy couldn't place exactly where the accent came from, but she was certain that it was somehow Oriental in origin. "You need to be more productive than standing around and singing like a bunch of idiotic fools!" "Don't bother them," came an equally sudden - and startlingly familiar - voice. Though this second voice wasn't shouted, there was an undeniable tone of command there, one that immediately gave the undertone: ((*I'm* the one in charge here.)) "I told them to do as they are, because it allows them to not only practice focusing their talents into other abilities they have, but to also keep the Carbinieri across the street busy...or would you prefer for them to trapaise around here at odd hours of the day?" ((So that explains the Carbs,)) Anthy thought to herself, and then with a tight, emotionless smirk on her face, added, ((Maybe. They're still pretty lousy.)) However, she continued to listen at the speech below her, all the while moving closer to see who it was. Slowly and silently moving her hands, she moved for a gift from the French Intelligence Services (via Oriel, though they didn't know it): a digital camera about the size of a pack of gum, complete with the latest in 20G memory and optical autofocus. The American NSA had been using them for several years, and had given nine to French Intelligence; the number had actually been ten, and Anthy was holding number one of the set. Meanwhile, the voices below continued. "I...understand," the man said, hesitantly. There was a sharp rapport that crashed through the air, the kind that came from a sharp slap. "Don't patronize me! You understand nothing; do you think me stupid?" There was anger in the woman's voice, clear and unadulterated. "This is why you are nothing, less than naught, Alexander. You think that just because you vie with Wil for the crown of the Duelist Champion means that you can disregard the command of the Council?" "Only those I respect," he snarled, changing his tones from chastised to challenging in an instant. "And certainly let me point out that you're not on that list, woman." Finally, Anthy had moved close enough to gain a good view of those below her. The "priests" (clearly there truly weren't; what had happened to those who had originally run this important place of worship?) were unrecognizable in their hooded robes; they may as well be nothing but the specters of the dark that they seemed to be, standing in the faint candlelight that shrouded all. The man was somehow reminiscent of that man - Wil - that she ran across in Germany not too long ago; Alexander was Chinese, with an altered but crisp accent that hinted he was from Hong Kong or Singapore. He was dressed in the pseudo-military getup that seemed endemic of anyone who followed the order of the rose, the clothing fit him like a second skin, and it looked all-too-natural on him. A rapier was at his side in its sheath; the handle and pommel of the blade were like nothing she'd seen before, as was the handguard, a spiky basket that implied closing in against him would be a painful ! endeavor. He seemed to be the person that had a cocky, normally aggressive posture around him, but it was clear that as defiant as he was, he'd been cowed by the person who'd delivered the blow to his face... Anthy stifled a gasp, even though she continued it mentally. ((So they *are* in this together! I never thought that.... Sister, did you take these people and corrupt them, make them worse than what our brother had in mind for them?)) Dressed in a black shirt and pants, covered by a simple unbuttoned gray raincoat, and her hair in a much different style than it had been in bygone times was another person that had known her from bygone ages, a time ago that had never been. She'd changed much and the dourness that had been in her soul had changed to that of a woman firmly in command, one who was far too used to leadership and the trouble and tribulations that went with it. Arisagawa Juri. There was no mistaking that tight line that was the closest thing that she ever truly had to a smile when it came to people she didn't really respect. And there was no mistaking the fact that she held no fondness whatsoever for this Alexander fellow standing before her. Admittedly, it had been said that the only men she ever had respect for was Toga, who was her leader; dear sweet Miki, who she looked upon like a little brother; and Anthy's own brother, who, well...that went without comment. But that had been a decade ago, a time back when the world was younger and they'd not yet run on different paths. Juri looked at Alexander with the patient gaze of the teacher explaining to the dunce the most basic of concepts for the most infinite time. Then, as if to explain it all, she reached to her side and grabbed a black cylinder. There was a snap-hiss of a sound, and Alexander found himself on the wrong end of a citrus-orange energy blade. "Don't toy with me. You may be important to the cause, Alexander, but you're not so important that I would regret eviscerating you here and now. If you want to show your smug, self-centered 'superiority,' save it for a duel against Wil or one of the other contenders - you'll never be able to beat a member of the council." If Juri's presence here surprised her, the rest of the revelations did nothing to help that. If Juri was a member of the Council of the Order of the Rose, and subsequently one of the ringleaders of the Guerre Du Monde, what did that mean about all of the others from that time? Were they, too, in charge? Who was the ringmaster, then, the one who kept it all going? Toga? Sayonji? Juri? Or was this just another group that Juri was a part of, with the others carrying on different lives? Maybe even Ebah herself? It stood to reason, as there could be no real explanation for the lightsaber that Juri held in her hand. It was forbidden technology. Could Adhan (Akio, Dios, whatever her brother called himself before he died) have given it to them? Or was that Ebah's doing? ((Sister, what are you up to?)) Questions upon questions were opening up in Anthy's mind, the kind that could only be solved by an army of thinkers, intellectuals and intelligence analysts. But Anthy had none of those at her disposal, and though her mind had remained intact over the thousands of years since she'd been known as Ririz, it was still far and away too much for her. Oblivious of Anthy's presence below, Alexander stared daggers at her. "When I have the title and power of the Duelist Champion, you will pay dearly." "You'll never make it that far, much less to the Council. You're not good enough to capture the favors of the Rose Bride; what makes you think you'll progress beyond?" ((Rose Bride?!)) Everything she'd heard and seen so far suddenly slipped into place with a mind-numbing click: Ebah had assumed Anthy's mantle of the Rose Bride, the key to unleashing everything. ((Why? What are you trying to gain? Our brother's dead, and I won't play those games anymore. What are you doing? You don't know the full extent of Revolution, Ebah, you don't!)) Revolution. Ki. The Force. Whatever people called it, it existed in everyone, though in the majority simply as the BEM - the bioelectromagnetic field that kept everyone alive. There were people who could tweak it; history was rife with tales of magicians and sorcerers, witches and shamans who could do the most amazing things, when in truth it was merely the power of revolution working through them. Even the word itself that Adhan taught his followers, "revolution", was merely a corruption of the original term: "re-evolution". And the three of them, the triumvirate that had come here, were as re-evolved as they could be. But that was something in the here and now, not in Ririz' past, nor in Anthy's future. This was the now, the now of the Chevalier, and that was something that spurred Anthy into motion. She'd made a pact with herself long ago that she would do what she could to make sure that Revolution would never come to pass (something that she'd failed once already), mortals couldn't be allowed to have it. The results would be...unthinkable. It was why, despite her brother's own internal power struggle, she never used the power, save for the Sword of Dios and her own Sword of Roses. It was why, despite the fact that Adhan had gone mad and split himself in twain, that she allowed herself to come into the web of the spider, to be used in so many ways to ultimately prevent the coming of Revolution, to prevent its release on the world. She'd failed, and the results of that was that she'd lost someone she loved very much, and that her brother was on the final road to ruin. Little did she realize that Ebah would continue from where Adhan left off; even as Dios was killed in the final tally and the mortal shell that was Akio died horribly, Anthy never realized that it would be Ebah to step in and take the place. Meanwhile, the conversation below continued apace. "How do you see that? I'll make her mine," Alexander said, the haughtiness and arrogance in his words crystal clear. "Hah! You're a fool who doesn't realize he knows nothing about the rules of the game, much less the prize. *You* know *nothing* about the Rose Bride - not you, not Wil, not Ismil, not Yuri, not Chieko - *none* of you. And by the time you find out, it'll be too late." "Idle prattle. The only reason you have any sway over me is because of your position on the council, Juri. Mark my words: my first job once I ascend to the Council will be to put you in your place, where women belong." The barely contained look of hatred in his eyes was clear. Juri's return was equally serious, though not as vicious; that somehow made it all the more colder. "I'll kill you long before that. But in the interim, I cannot afford to be so wasteful of my resources, especially when I have someone spying on me. Isn't that right, Anthy?" Anthy was stunned as without further ceremony, Juri shut down her blade and looked up exactly where the Chevalier was. "Come out, Anthy. You walked right into a trap; you may as well be civilized about it." The room went deathly silent, and that allowed Anthy to hear the growing footsteps of a dozen people headed towards her from the other room. ((I'm trapped. Now, how am I going to get my way out of this one?)) As the guards grew closer, Anthy gave no answer, and merely decided to wait to see what Juri's next move would be. Juri reattached the lightsaber onto a sash belt that wrapped her trim waist. "Anthy, you don't have to be petulant. I know you're there. We can do this the civilized way, and no one will have to get hurt - especially not your daughter, correct?" Anthy remained silent, even as though her heart was beating with conflicting emotions. Had she been betrayed? Was that "Natasha Kirin" person not an employee of Calyx Goodskies, but instead working for Juri? Was the whole Goodskies issue merely a ruse to bring Anthy out into the open? If so, she fell for it, hook, line and sinker - both her and Oriel. And the price, apparently, was going to be a fatally high one. "You know, Mirielle is such a sweet child," Juri continued. "You've raised a fine child, and with a little luck, she may live a long and healthy life, you know." Clearly in no hurry, she stretched, her black-clad body seeming as though she were a panther languishing gently and knowing its quarry would not last the day. "Did it ever occur to you, that once you unearthed yourself, we have considerable resources, not only to discover who you are but to also set up this rather elegant trap? Admittedly, we do have an operation here - with that information you took from us, you should know that already - but I'm honestly surprised that the vaunted Chevalier would fall into such a trap as simple as this...really, Anthy, I thought you were more the professional than to come into such a place as this so simply. "Oh, I should probably add that you have no chance of escaping from here alive. I'm very sorry about this, but I'm sure you already knew that. Additionally, I'll be sporting about it and see that your daughter's education will be well attended to - would a lifetime scholarship to one of the Ohtori schools be sufficient?" Juri smiled with the grace of a cat whose paw is above the canary. "You've lost. May as well be civilized about it, before my men get to you, and I can guarantee, they won't be." The implication was clear. Anthy was going to have to ready herself to fight her way out of her current situation. Already, sounding in the distance was the thunder of soldiers racing towards her vicinity. From what little she glimpsed, at least one was heavily armed, which meant that most of them were carrying hand cannons and the most powerful rifles that had been made. Even worse, clearly shown by the cylinder sitting at Juri's side, was the fact that forbidden technology had entered the fray. If then, how many of those soldiers were wielding sabers? Could some of those guns be energy weapons? If that was the case, then she would have no chance - she'd probably be able to take one or two, but not all of them, especially if the numbers were exponential. That is, of course, unless she used the power of revolution. Which, of course, she wouldn't. It would be so easy - all too easy - which was why she wouldn't play the game. Not here, not now. But she still had to get herself out of her current situation, which was more important. She was going to have to get back to Oriel and Miri, get them out of there as soon as possible. "Anthy, don't be petulant. Come down here and give up," Juri commented. "Perhaps the Rose Bride will not kill you. From what I understand, she's eager to see you again." Making her choice, Anthy stood up, her body moving into dim light, just enough for her to be seen. "I don't think so, Juri. I have other things to attend to, if you don't mind." Not waiting for further response, she bolted for the door she went through earlier, moving as swiftly as she could to escape the ages-old cathedral and the deathtrap it had become. Alexander looked at Juri with scorn. "Just who the hell is she?" "A far better person than you." The smile on Juri's face barely concealed the nastiness behind it. "She is the sister of the Rose Bride, and she herself *was* the Rose Bride before she turned to her own agenda." At once, she could see a scheming look in Alexander's face and she stopped it cold with, "Don't even bother. She follows her own agenda now, that of hers and the Prince's." "The Prince?" Alexander asked stupidly before realizing he'd revealed a failing of information and tried to cover it up with a faux-bemused comment of, "The Prince, of course. I should have known he'd be behind it all. It's so very clear." "Clear to everyone else, perhaps, but never to you." Nothing more to say, Juri left him and began to rally her troops. Time was running short, and she had to find out for herself it was really possible to kill an immortal. Granted, Akio was dead, but he'd died of his own accord, paving the way for his sister's greatness. Now it was time to see if Himemiya Anthy could meet her maker...whomever that maker had been, so long ago. Shouting out everyone within hearing range, she boomed, "We have an intruder present. Let her leave the Cathedral - we can't have any traces to our using it - but once she steps beyond the Plaza, kill her." @}>---`---,---- Shiko woke up in the middle of the night, to the sounds of something alive in the background. At first dismissing it as the sounds of forest life - these were, after all, different woods than she'd grown up in - the accompanying buzzing soon after made it all the harder to dismiss. Could there be a wasp's nest just outside the window? She took a look at the clock on the drawer, reading the small LCD display screen, which she'd set to show both the local time and Tokyo time. "Two in the morning?" she muttered, the bed and reaching for a robe, she went to go see what exactly was going on. While she was at it, it couldn't hurt to get something to drink, either. She'd managed to get as far as halfway to the kitchen before she she saw a neon flash out of the corner of her eye. Knowing it wasn't supposed to rain anytime this week (and thus couldn't be lightning), her natural curiosity was piqued and she went to investigate. What she saw absolutely stunned her. Walking out to the back porch and the glade that was Porter's backyard, was a scene of pure martial prowess. Framed by the trees and a starry night, was Utena, dressed in a T-shirt, exercise shorts and tennis shoes, and apparently fighting moving through a kata. ((A kata? At this time of night?)) That struck Shiko as odd, and the drowsiness of sleep washed away from her, her interest in Utena's sword display completely caught now. The rose-haired one was wielding a white lightsabre, the silvery blade a completely different hue than the pink one she'd used to take apart Saionji's troops only a couple of days ago back home in Japan, a time that oddly felt far away and ancient history to Shiko. She was attacking what appeared to be a series of aerial probes, just like the scene on the _Falcon_. However, theses weren't orbs, but modified remote control helicopters; there were also six of them, moving in patterns that seemed to mimic attacks from all sides. Every so often a beam of laserlight would flicker out from an emitter attached to the bottom of the RC helicopters, and Utena would twirl, oftentimes in an unusual display of acrobatics, to deflect the beam. One shot would go for her head, and she would spin and nail it with a downward arc that she brought from over her head; two more blasts would go for her feet, and instead of jumping over it, she would cartwheel and nail both with the blade b! efore completing the motion and landing back on her feet, allowing the RCs to swarm around her again before she continued. "Ssssh," a voice said from Shiko's side. The emerald-haired woman turned to see Kim, controlling the paths of the helicopters on a laptop. "Don't say a thing." "Why?" Shiko whispered, unconsciously violating the request. "Am to ruin her concentrate?" "No," he shot back, also in a whisper. "You'll ruin mine. I'm almost done setting up the trajectories, so the computer can run the attack models by itself. Saves this old fart the problem of having to sit up here and do it all night, you know?" "All the night?" "There, done," he pronounced, then turned to face her as he set the gray notebook down. "Yes, I said all night. Last time she was here, she kept it up for ten straight hours." He took one last, forlorn look at Utena's driven movements, then returned to face Shiko. "That girl's haunted; she'll never find peace." That bothered Shiko slightly; she'd known that Utena was an intense sort of person, but "I not understand." "Understand this, then: she's driven by the ghosts of her past, by justice, maybe even revenge, despite her saying the contrary - exactly what, I don't know. But what I do know is that she's been at war with these bastards for the past three years, and with my complete and utter blessing." "Three years?" Kim nodded. "I've known Utena for the past four years, when she showed up on my doorstep one morning. She'd brought my wayward daughter Marcia - Marcy - home from wherever she'd run off to. I'd given up hope of ever seeing my little girl again; she'd disappeared two years before that, when her mother died of leukemia. Marcy had always been a difficult child, you see, but my wife's death brought out the worst in her...and me...and we argued and fought until she just ran away from home one day. "Utena said that there were things I didn't want to know; Marcy herself wouldn't tell me, either. From what little I was able to glean was that Utena had saved my little girl from a fate worse than death, and that Marcy had become Utena's significant other, as well as a student in those weird-pseudo Jedi arts. Actually, on the latter half, both Marcy and I did; Utena told us it ran in my family's blood - wish I'd known that about thirty years ago," he said with a chuckle. "Anyways, I'm getting off the point. The thing is that I remember Utena when she used to smile, used to laugh, and not the dour and dark person she is now. It didn't bother me that she was in a relationship with my daughter, or that she was a few years older than Marcy, or even that they were lovers and my daughter wasn't of age when they first got together. It was that she made my daughter happy, happier than anyone I'd ever seen, and that she'd saved Marcy from the gates of Hell and in doing so, saved me as well. I owe Utena much for that. So for nearly four years, we were a very happy bunch, myself, my daughter, and Utena." He paused and grew angry. "And then that's when those bastards arrived." "Who?" Kim was about to answer, when a snarl of ferocity screamed from Utena's direction. Both Kim and Shiko wheeled around to see Utena now attacking the RC helos in earnest, deflecting their blasts away and striking each with the silvery blade. To Shiko's surprise, the blade didn't destroy the units as it bored through, but instead shorted them out in a miniature pyrotechnic of sparks. The helos crashed to the ground one by one, felled by the rosehair's superior swordsmanship. Without further ceremony, she turned and stared darkly at both Kim and Shiko. Taking over from Kim to explain, though she'd been completely out of earshot, she continued without a hitch. "Ten years ago, Shiko, I lost my humanity. Three years ago I lost someone I loved very dearly." Walking over to the pair, she tossed the sabre handle haphazardly in a random direction, but snapped her fingers right after. The handle flew and landed gently on the table, next to the laptop. Kim huffed. "Showoff." Utena's eyes, strangely enough, were filled with sorrow. "What I wouldn't do to not be able to do that, believe me. I'd give it up in an instant, just to be human again." "Someday you're going to have to explain that to me, Utena. You look pretty normal to me, and I've never known you to be as inhuman, as some of history's monsters, like Hitler or Stalin." "I hope you never have to find out what I meant, Kim, I really don't." There was a haunting, empty, eternal look in Utena's eyes, as deep as the bottom of the sea and yet far more infinite; it appeared to Shiko that if she stared long enough, she'd lose her own soul in the depth's of her friend and master's eyes. Seemingly aware of that, Utena broke eye contact with the pair, turning to face the nighttime-covered horizon. "I hope that someday I'll be able to avenge Marcy. But I hope that even more, I can prevent millions more from being killed like her, or worse." "Define 'worse.'" "I can't define worse anymore than I can define my own inhumanity. Let me simply say that there are some kinds of slavery in this world that are absolutely indescribable, and that lock you down forever. If I have to be clich?bout it, think the Dark Side of the Force, only much more damning than that." Turning around again, she headed for the door to the home and commented, "It's going to be a long day tomorrow. We'd all better get some sleep tonight, especially you, Shiko. Tomorrow starts the greatest adventure you've ever had...or will ever regret." Nothing more to say, Utena headed inside. Shiko wordlessly stared at Utena's retreating back, utterly confused. She looked at Kim for answers, but he was already headed inside as well. Standing outdoors alone, she momentarily stared at the white sabre handle for a couple, wondering what it would be like to actually pick up a real lightsabre. She reached out for it.... ....only to see the blade fly off the countertop and straight over into Utena's hands. Utena looked at Shiko one last time, and her eyes were far warmer than they'd been just a few minutes earlier. "Shiko, I'm giving you one last chance to back out of all of this." "Why for?" Shiko asked, wondering why Utena was so adamant about it. It was the third time she asked about it; did that mean she doubted the emeraldhair's loyalty, faith or commitment? Was it because Shiko had, until recently, seen things from a fantasy point of view, instead of the stark reality of the past twenty-four hours? "No, I don't doubt you at all. I know that's what you're asking yourself now," Utena replied in Japanese, trying to be as gentle as possible. "It's because you're my friend, and I don't want to see you die. I hate that I've given you more of a choice in this than Nanami - in her case, I pretty much dictated things to her, but I had my reasons for that. Her, I'm using as a helper until she can make the choice for herself. You, because of your skills, I have to practically sacrifice to the maw of war." "Why?" Shiko replied in kind, slightly relieved that Utena chose to use Japanese again; then again, since it made things much clearer to understand, it also brought home more of an impact than had she been speaking English. "Why all of this? I know you told me that it'd be dangerous, but now I'm beginning to really understand it." "Which is why I'm giving you this final chance, Shiko." Utena juggled the handle in her hands, treating it more as a toy than a weapon. "Marcy died fighting in my cause. She was killed by one of the Council Duelists, one of those who are trained to use lightsabres like we. I never saw who it was, but it was someone who wielded a red blade. I didn't even have time to recover her body, because I had to evacuate people out of the area." Utena ran a hand through her short hair. "The grave that is in the distance is Marcy's. There's no one in it, and never will be, no matter how much Kim and I wish there was." "But what has this to do with me?" "You're my friend, Shiko. Before I knew any of this, back when I was just a schoolgirl in Ohtori, you were my friend. Yes, there's been some distance in years, but I still consider you a friend, just as I did Nanami, and I didn't get along with her in school as much as I did you. I don't have many friends in this world - I never have, to be honest - and with the exception of one, all of them are engaged in warfare in my cause." "Who's the one?" "Possibly the only person I've ever loved more than Marcy or Akio Himemiya...and I haven't seen her since I left Ohtori. You know the old legend that there's always one person in this world that you care about more than anything, that you'll never forget that person no matter what? Well, after ten years, I still feel that way about Anthy. Yes, I've given up hope of ever seeing her again, but that doesn't mean I've stopped caring...stopped loving her. And the part that scares me is that I wonder if she was with me now, would I put her on the front lines with us as well? I can't answer that. I'm not sure I want to." "I see," Shiko replied. "Well, thanks for being up front with me, Utena. I really appreciate it." "You deserved it. You might find this funny, but sometimes I have to remind myself that I was once human, and that I should strive to continue to act like it." "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean by 'not being human'. It's not like you're some kind of alien, right?" "No, I'm not. But let me explain it this way: we Duelists-" "Jedi?" Utena shrugged. "Anyway, we're beyond that of normal people. There are some of us who are even farther than that. Don't ask me to explain what that means; sometimes I hardly believe it myself." Before she elucidated further, Utena yawned and said, "You can give me your final answer in the morning, Shiko." "No, I don't have to; I'll give it to you now, Utena. You gave me my freedom, my chance not to be stuck in a small town doing nothing for the rest of my life. From what you're saying, I should be terrified of accepting this, but I have to admit that I feel that I would be really wrong if I didn't." Shiko bowed formally. "I am your humble apprentice, Utena-sensei." "Then get to bed, apprentice. We've got a long day tomorrow, the kind of day you're going to regret." "Hai, sensei." @}>---`---,---- Whether by accident, design, or luck, Anthy cleared the cathedral, Juri's scornful tones still burning in her ears. The danger had just closed around her, and now she was the prey trying to work herself free of the predator's jaws. She'd been betrayed by someone in her circle of friends, or someone had been spying on her - had she been that much lax about her personal life since her retirement? In the end, it didn't matter much anyway, as the trap was closing in on her, and closing in on her fast. As she headed towards the door, she ran into someone that had been guarding it, dressed in the faux-military clothing of Ohtori, which meant one of the Ohtori-affiliated schools here in Italy. The person couldn't have been older than thirteen, and was clearly a freshman at the Academy. However, he also looked like someone who had already seen some experience in combat, and a part of Anthy shivered that someone so baby-faced and young was already within the trap that was Ebah's web. She decided to be gentle to him; he never saw her coming, nor felt the blur of fists that hit him until it was too late. Down he went like a wet sack, giving the Chevalier access to the outside world. Back on the outside, she ran into her first major opposition, a trio of heavily armed and cloaked men, all pointing their weapons at her and hissing for her to halt immediately or they'd shoot. Anthy wasn't stupid; she knew they would shoot the minute she did stop. Her only option was to take to the air. Leaping and twisting at the same time, Chevalier moved into action. The guards, training their guns on but not firing at her, didn't have a chance. With extra speed borne by her situation and already moving fast to begin with, she pounced on them like a lioness tearing into her prey. With one swift move she caught the head of one with her left hand, at the same time landing a blow across the face of a second with her right fist and successfully lashing out against the third with her left leg. Using her momentum, she brought the first one's head against the aged stone railing with just enough force to knock him out but not much more injury. Hopping off him and getting back to her feet, she reached out with her mind into the immediate area, searching for more opponents heading her way. She'd been outed, there was little more need for stealth and that much more need for awareness and speed. Racing to the corner where she started, she noted that her line back to the tower had been cut; no surprise there, as she'd walked into a trap. What did bother her, though, was what she saw as she peered towards the tower. The Carib station had been riddled with bullet holes and damage, clearly indicating that whomever had been in the building at the time of the attack wasn't coming out again. The attack had been silent, surgical and precise, and had effectively ensured that Anthy couldn't escape by even coming up with a story to gain their assistance. The weather didn't seem to be much of a help to her, either. Some freak weather system had moved in, and the result of that was that Venezia was under a deluge, a full-out thunderstorm of the kind that no one liked to be out in. The rain would slow her movements immensely, as well as make it all the much harder for her rooftop leaping and nocturnal acrobatics that she had as part of her evasive arsenal. However, it would also slow down her opponents as well, preventing them from getting that much more of a drop on her, and with a little luck, she might be able to make it to Oriel and the children in time, to get them out of there and to some other form of safety while there was still a chance. ((Looks like I'm on my own on this-)) Part of Anthy's mind clicked, and reaching out for no reason, she snaked her hand out as quickly as she could. The end result of this was that she was able to catch with a single hand, two shurikens that had been thrown her way. Turning with the ease of a fighter, she launched them back in the direction in which they came, and the muffled shout of someone told her that her shots hit true. A quick mental probe also revealed that she hadn't hurt the person seriously, but that he'd be down for a while. However, now was not the time to stick around. Immediately, as a diver would in an Olympic event, she tossed herself off the balcony, towards the expanse of pavement beyond. Arcing her body with the precision of someone long used to acrobatics, she twisted in the air and landed on her feet, nimbly as a cat...or at least a cat that almost loses its footing by doing the same stunt in the hard rain. A part of her remembered the days when she'd told Utena that she "wasn't very athletic"; she hated herself for the necessary lie, but had Utena (or for that matter, anyone) known that two hundred years before, Anthy had been known as the mythical Spanish warrior known only as the Gypsy Queen, well...the information would have been surprising, to say the least. The second her feet found purchase on the cobblestones of the Plaza of St. Mark, she took off like a rocket, hoping to lose her pursuers in the labyrinthine streets of ancient Venice. Behind her the doors to the Cathedral opened, dozens of soldiers boiling from its maw. Some of them bore swords, some bore guns, and all of them had every intent to kill her. Though she was immortal, immortal merely meant that one could die of old age - it wasn't the sort of thing that the Japanese mermaid legends or the Scottish highlander myths made it out to be. All it would take would be one good round between her eyes and Anthy would be no different than the rest of humanity's dead souls. As they began to fire, the amount of bullets that began to tear through the area would prove that. Reaching out with her abilities, she looked at every gun, without looking. That was a prime advantage for her, she realized; unless they were adept at Revolution, none of them could be able to see more than a few meters in front of them due to the downpour, and using optical enhancement equipment like she had earlier would have been too cumbersome or weighty for them in this situation - and night optics would have been blinded by the lightning, regardless. Her "scan" told her that all of them had muzzle hoods for both silence and flash suppression, which indicated they were very serious about keeping their existence a secret (though how they were going to accomplish that with the dead Carbinieri, she didn't know). They were also using (surprise, surprise) HAAP rounds - High Acceleration, Armor Piercing - which meant they were serious about leaving her as a corpse. She had half a mind to take them on, since there were only maybe eighty of them, tops, but Juri's impli! cation meant that Oriel and the children were in trouble, and now that the mission had been botched, her main goal was now to get them extracted out of there as quickly as possible. It was times like this that she regretted that she'd stopped carrying guns long ago, as well as a radio of some kind. The gun might have gotten her some extra measure of ranged protection, while the radio could have been used to give advance warning to the others. Should she survive this (not to mention ever finding herself on another job), she was really going to have to invest in those. ((Then again, a radio would have been useless in this kind of situation; worse, it could have led Juri's people to my child.)) That thought made Anthy push on harder, her best choice right now was to head towards the far side of old Venice, to where the Italian Naval Base was, then lose them in that area and double-back to the hote- The first slap on the back came instantaneously. The bullet hurt like hell as it ripped through her, but Anthy focused, pulling her mind away from her sensory awareness just enough of a fraction to devote some of her will to pain damping. The bullet had tore completely through her shoulder, leaving a small gout of blood in its wake to be washed away by the torrential rain, but Anthy kept running. To stop would be to die, and she had to lose her pursuers before she made her way back to the hotel. Three more rounds whizzed by, all of which mercifully missed her. Turning two sharp corners, she moved into a clearing of sorts, the first area where canals separated blocks. Unfortunately, the nearest bridge was several hundred meters away, far enough that if she tried to make a break for it, her pursuers would easily catch up to her; diving into the still-yet-polluted waters was also not an escape, for even more reasons than bursting for the bridge. Though there were some residences in the area, she couldn't risk putting innocents into danger, which meant she had two choices left: fight while injured and risk getting shot to death; or to climb onto a fragile-looking power conduit which snaked across the canal to the other side, risking electrocution and possibly drowning in the canal.... Leaping skyward, she caught the overhang of a streetlight, using it to swing out into the open over the canal. Catching the power line, she moved hand-over-hand to the other side. As she leapt down, she gasped in pain as a second bullet ripped through her, this time in her left breast. The blood burst into a blossom, tearing through the rose sigil she bore on her bodysuit. Anthy landed ungracefully, slamming against a wall, leaving a smear of red and a perfect target for four more bullets, the second one tearing into her abdomen and the third into her right calf. Lifting herself up with pain, she continued to move, far slower but no less willing to forfeit. By now, she turned up her abilities to the max, focusing mostly on pain and leaving the senses to her normal self. "Anthy!" Someone screamed at her. "Stop!" Anthy turned around, slowly, woosily, to face the person that had screamed. It was Juri. She was standing there, before her forces, lightsaber in hand and looking as though she'd jump the distance to use it. Next to her was a man pointing a sniper's rifle in Anthy's direction, his calm and cool pose all but screamed he had the drop on her easily. ((Jump the distance,)) Anthy thought between bouts of semi-consciousness, a consciousness that was slipping, a sign that she was dying. W((hy didn't I think of that?)) "Anthy," Juri called out, "it doesn't have to end this way. Give yourself up. The Chevalier can be of use to us. The Rose Bride would be interested in seeing that you were safe." A surprising anger seeped into Anthy's mind. Striding forward towards the edge of the bank, she gave her foes a defiant stare, one they could see as the rain began to lighten. ((Ebah? Wanting to see me safe? Never. She's hated me from the very beginning, and since the dawn of time done everything she could to poison my name.)) "No, I don't think so," Anthy called out. "The Rose Bride cares not for me. The Rose Bride cares nothing for you either. She cares nothing of anything save her own ends. In the end, you'll be sacrificed to her ends, you and everyone associated with her!" "I think not. The Rose Council will rule this world, and our army - The Guerre du Monde - will be our fist. And if people such as you and Utena stand in our way, then we will have to put you out of our misery!" ((Utena?)) Between the folds of pain, Anthy caught the name. ((Utena's fighting them?)) She gave herself a weak smile. So it *was* Utena who had sent her on this mission, a client non-pareil. Juri read the smile differently. "Suit yourself, Anthy Himemiya." Juri flicked off her blade, and in the rainy darkness a sniper's rifle went off, its payload seeking purchase in the body of the Chevalier. A splash hit the water, and there was nothing left but silence. The sniper lowered his rifle. "What now, Juri?" Juri smiled, but it was not a smile of triumph. "Evacuate the cathedral. We'll have to move our facility elsewhere, since the populace will see what we've done to the police station just outside the tower. Ensure that we have enough markings so that Guerre du Monde takes the credit; we'll issue the usual revolutionary propaganda later. We'd best move fast, as sunrise is in a few hours, which means that people will be up any minute now." "And if Anthy's body floats to the surface?" Juri shrugged. "No longer our problem. At worst, it's just another scandalous crime in this poor, wretched town for the media to have a field day with. And if the cops dig any deeper, they'll just find that the vaunted catburglar Chevalier just met with a very ignominious end." Nothing further to add, she left the back, heading back towards the cathedral, her people in tow. If any of them had bothered to look up, they would have noticed a strange figure kneeling atop the building across the street, having watched the whole thing. The figure stared at the spot where Anthy had fallen into the canal, then watched as Juri and her people calmly strode away like a bunch of tourists on a midnight tour of the city. ((So she was right...they are on the prowl again. This won't do.)) @}>---`---,---- ((Water. Mother's womb? A river of life.... ((A river? ((The canal! ((I...I got shot! Have to get to Oriel and the others...have to get to Miri. Save my daughter? ((But I don't have the strength...and the water's so warm.... ((I'm dying. After countless millennia, I'm finally dying. ((I'm sorry, Miri. I'm sorry, Oriel. I'm sorry, Miss Utena. ((I'm so-)) To be continued... _La Fillette Revolutionnaire Utena_ (_Shoujo Kakumei Utena_, _Revolutionary Girl Utena_) characters are owned, trademarked, etc. by Chiho Saito, Kodansha, et al. _Star Wars_ elements owned, trademarked, etc. by George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd., et al. Other intellectual properties belong to their respective creators/owners. Additional Credits: Sword and Duelists' canticles courtesy of The Utena Encyclopedia () .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----. | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com | | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com | | Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject | `---- -----'
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