An Utena story with some original elements. Posting here for more C&C before it hits the FFML.
"What would happen if a person realized he was dreaming, but was
unable to wake from the dream?"
The voice seemed to come from all around her, but though she turned
around, looking into the shadows that surrounded her, she could see
nothing. "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice quavering. "Show
yourself!"
"I cannot. The one who calls himself the End of the World has too much
power here. As for my name, you may call me the Beginning." The voice
chuckled at what must have been a private joke.
"The beginning of what? The world?" There was something odd about all
this, she thought, but it held together, in much the same way that
dreams do.
"No, of course not, though he might tell you that. You see, if the
dreamer continued to dream, he might begin to include others in the
dream. The dream is a place where anything can happen. And,
eventually, he might lose control of it. That would be very dangerous
indeed."
"So, what could he do?"
"All he could hope to do was to maintain balance in the
dream. Fortunately for him, that could lead to a way out. It came
about that the End of the World grew impatient. He introduced new
elements into the dream, elements that appeared benign, but changed
the heart of the dream. And so, the dreamer could restore the
balance. He couldn't return the dream to the way it was before, so he
introduced his own element, and with it, a way of escape. The End of
the World felt the change, and knew that it would lead to the
destruction of his plans, so he interfered again. And now, to return
balance, you are here."
"Me?"
"You. I am here to offer you a chance to do what you've always longed
for. The world is in need of saving, and you will help to do it. In
return for what I can give you, you must promise to swear loyalty to
the Prince. You know of whom I speak."
"Yes, I do, I think." She paused, reflecting for a moment before
speaking again. "But who are you, Beginning, that you can offer such
power?"
"Haven't you guessed? I'm the dreamer, my child."
"That's just a metaphor, though. Isn't it?"
"Indeed. We are, to borrow a phrase, indulging in a metaphor for a
more complex reality. But don't worry yourself over it. Those sorts of
things have a way of taking care of themselves, provided people like
you and I take care of what's important." The voice paused, and she
felt that the invisible speaker was looking her straight in the
eye. "Now, do you agree to my terms?"
It wasn't a very difficult decision, when it came down to it. She
nodded firmly. "What do I do?"
Something clattered to the ground behind her. She turned around,
seeing nothing, then looked down. At the edge of the shadows was a
ring. She couldn't see much of it, but it appeared expensive, and
something about it seemed to resonate with meaning. "Take this
ring. You will need it."
As she walked towards it, the shadows seemed to swirl around her, and
she felt some force tugging her away from it. She pressed on, reaching
down for it, but her vision went all blurry, and she couldn't seem to
grasp it. She heard the voice shouting something; she couldn't make
out what, but it made her feel as if something had gone awry. She
lunged forward, throwing herself atop the ring, and out of bed with a
thump. "Owww," Miho groaned, rubbing her head.
-----------
Singularity By Jon Rosebaugh
Chapter One: Transfer Student
Revolutionary Girl Utena is the property of Chiho Saito and
Shougakukan and their licensees. Certain elements of Miho's character
and other plot events are inspired by Magical Stage Fancy Lala. No
infringement on any applicable copyrights is intended.
-----------
The door creaked open, and Miho heard the sound of footsteps, walking
into her field of vision. Upside-down as she was, it took her a moment
to place the feet as her mother's. "Oh, hi, Mom."
"What happened here?" she asked, a smile in her voice. "You haven't
woken up like that in quite a while."
"It was a dream. There was something important, but it all went wrong
and I can't remember what." Miho righted herself and pushed the covers
back onto the bed.
Her mother laughed. "I don't think that's too unusual, considering
your bedtime reading." She picked up the thick tome and regarded it
wryly. "You know, at your age, I was still reading shoujo manga, not
translations of Dumas."
"'s not my fault." Miho shrugged, then started to climb back into bed,
only to be stopped by a firm grip on her arm
"None of that! You have to get dressed and finish packing, or you'll
miss the train." Her mother picked out what Miho considered to be her
most annoying dress and laid it on the bed before heading back to the
kitchen. Miho glared at it. It failed to glare back, but Miho knew it
hated her anyhow. She carefully shoved it under the bed, pushing it
far enough under that it wouldn't show once she made the bed, then
went to get a better outfit and finish packing.
- - - -
Miho leaned back in her train seat and half-watched the scenery
passing outside. Her mind was much too busy trying to figure out what
she felt about all this to pay much attention to the flashes of forest
and hillside visible from the window. She reread the brochure her
sister had sent her from the Academy.
Boarding school. She didn't know if she liked the concept much. When
Wakaba had gone off to the Academy to join her friend, who had
received a scholarship there, Mother and Father hadn't particularly
minded. They were career-oriented people. She knew that because each
of them had told her that about the other.
Going off to boarding school was at least better than going with
Mother and Father to America, she decided. After all, they all spoke
English over there. At least Mother had promised to call her every
week. They could afford it; she'd not be going to Ohtori Academy if
they couldn't.
Gradually, Miho became aware of a muted conversation going on across
the aisle. She looked over out of the corner of her eye and saw two
girls practicing (or performing?) what she realized had to be a
shadow-play. It looked ridiculous without the curtain in front, so
Miho pulled out her sketchbook and started to draw what it would look
like if the curtain had been there. It seemed to be a complicated plot
involving a sword and a ring and a rose -- she recognized that last
when one of the girls pricked herself on the shadow-thorns.
After a little while, the girls stopped and, giggling, hurried up to
the front of the car, where they seemed to be sharing gossip. Miho
heard bits and pieces of it. "Do you know?" "Do you know?" They didn't
appear to have noticed her. She felt tired, so she made a pillow of
her jacket and slept for a while.
Miho awoke suddenly as the train went around a sharp curve. It didn't
feel like any time had passed. The only clues that the train was
significantly closer to the station were the changed landscape outside
the window and the mild hunger in her stomach. She pulled her bento
out of her bag and began to eat. It was mass-produced, of course, out
of a vending machine at the station, but still fairly good, good
enough to satisfy her stomach, at any rate.
A bell rang and a voice came on a PA system, saying they were about
fifteen minutes from the station. As she put the empty bento back into
her bag, she noticed that her sketchpad was missing. She tried fishing
around behind her seat, and under it, and so on, but it wasn't
there. Miho had been sure she'd put it in her bag, anyway. She kept
on looking for it until the train pulled into station. Reluctantly,
she gathered the rest of her possessions and headed for the exit.
The station lacked the overwhelming level of activity that was so
common in Tokyo stations. Wakaba had promised to meet her in a certain
cafe, which Miho found quickly. She bought a box of Pocky to munch on
while she waited. People passed by at a regular rate, much as they did
back home, but something seemed different. For one thing, people
seemed to have a little more space around them, which made sense,
since it wasn't as packed as a typical Tokyo station, but it also
seemed that they took it for granted, as if it had never occurred to
them that they might have to share that space with strangers. It was
an entirely different world than she was used to.
Miho ate her pocky and let her attention wander. She wondered what
sort of stories these people had. The harried-looking salaryman had,
perhaps, a greedy materialistic wife whose shopping habits had forced
him to secure a loan from very unsavory people. Or maybe that young
woman was the last in a long line of legendary swordsmen and, under
cover of night, she honed her skills by fighting street gangs. Or
perhaps that other young woman, the one with the pink hair, who was --
walking towards her?
Miho blinked. Yes, she was definitely coming towards her. But where
was Wakaba? The pink-haired girl entered the cafe and came up to
her. "Hello, Miho. Do you remember me? I'm Utena, one of Wakaba's
friends."
Miho nodded. "I remember you.... But where's Wakaba?"
"It's a bit complicated, and she can explain it better than I
can. Come on, we've got about half an hour before Miki will get here
with the van." Utena took her hand and led her out of the station.
Outside, the differences from Tokyo were even more apparent. The
station was on the edge of the city, so the bulk of the scenery was
forest and grass, not skyscrapers and concrete. A little further on,
Miho saw the gateposts of a shrine, nestled among the trees. Beyond
that, there were only the mountains. "What's the matter?" Utena asked.
"Huh?" Miho replied, her reverie broken.
"You've got an odd look on your face."
"I think I've seen this before, all this landscape and everything. But
it doesn't feel real. It's like I've been here in a dream. I don't
understand."
Utena looked thoughtful. "I know what you mean, but I don't understand
it either. Hmm... Have you ever seen anything like this before?" she
asked, pulling a ring off her finger and handing it to Miho.
Miho put down her bag and turned the ring around and around in her
hands. The ring itself was a very simple thing with no
embellishments. On the face was a rose design, in relief, designed in
such a way as to make it appear deeper than it really was. But it was
just a ring; no magic words leapt to mind or anything, nor did she
feel anything when she slid it on her finger experimentally. She felt
foolish for having expected any such thing and quickly handed it back
to Utena. "No, I don't think so. I'm sure I'd remember if I had. It's
a very nice ring," she offered.
Utena frowned slightly as she put the ring back on, but Miho thought
she detected a note of relief in that expression as well. She wondered
what sort of ring that was for Utena to feel that way about it. Utena
hid it quickly, though, and just as quickly changed the topic. "Is
there anything you needed to pick up from town before we go up to the
campus? It's a long walk back if you forget something and can't swing
a ride."
"Oh! I forgot to tell the conductor! I think I left my sketchbook on
the train somehow." Miho turned around to go back inside.
"The train's left already, I think," Utena said as she pulled Miho
back. "Tell you what, I'll get you a new one here, and we can call the
line and ask them to send yours to you if they find it."
Miho thought about it. On the one hand, her sketchbook wasn't just
paper; it had over a year's worth of work in it, and that wasn't
something she was ready to lose. On the other hand, it _was_ a
generous offer, and it wasn't like there were many other options she
could choose. She nodded. "I'd like that."
"Great!" Utena's face positively lit up, Miho thought. She seemed to
genuinely enjoy the prospect of taking her places and helping her. If
only all of the people at Ohtori could be like this.... But Miho knew
how unlikely something like that would be. People were people, and
that was that. She let Utena lead her into town.
It was actually much larger than Miho had expected. It was obviously
not even remotely close to Tokyo's size; it wasn't even the largest
city in the prefecture. But it had been an active port before World
War II, and while the fisheries were gone, having relocated to better
waters, the presence of Ohtori Academy had helped to keep the
population level around that of a large town.
They were on the side of it that served as the shopping and office
district and as they walked, they passed various office buildings,
clothing stores, a couple of banks, a movie theatre, and so on. After
about five minutes, they came to Ohtori Park, which was somewhat
larger than the parks Miho was used to seeing back home. Across it,
she spotted a storefront with pictures of art supplies. "What about
that one?" she asked, pointing it out to Utena.
"'Beginnings', huh," Utena mused, reading the name on the
storefront. "Must be new. I haven't seen that one before. Sure, why
not?"
Inside, the store proved to be about as well stocked as the ones back
home and Miho began to genuinely believe that being stuck way out in
the country might not be so bad. She began browsing with abandon,
checked only when she noticed Utena glancing at her watch. Miho
selected the best sketchbook she could find, deciding that she
wouldn't make Utena pay for it. She had pocket money, after all. But
when she took it up to the counter, the clerk looked at it, and at
her, frowned briefly, and disappeared into the back. Moments later, he
returned, holding a thick package wrapped in brown paper. "This is for
you, miss, compliments of the proprietor."
"Are you sure?" Miho couldn't imagine why a store would just give away
products to someone like her, whom they didn't even know. And how had
they had it already packaged up? They couldn't have known she'd be
coming in advance. Could they?
The clerk smiled. "Of course, miss. He never makes mistakes in things
like this."
Feeling only somewhat reassured, Miho thanked him and followed Utena
back to the park, and thence to the station. The sky was beginning to
darken when they arrived and a van, the Academy seal proudly
emblazoned on the side, was waiting for them. Utena motioned her into
the front passenger seat and climbed into the back. Miho hadn't
expected this. She climbed in, secured her bag and parcel, and buckled
in. The young man in the driver's seat clicked a stopwatch, checked
the time, nodded approvingly, and threw the van into gear. As it began
to rumble out of the station lot, he turned to Miho. "Welcome to
Ohtori," he said, smiling. "How was the train?"
Miho studied him for several seconds before responding. He was fairly
tall, and thin, and didn't appear especially well-muscled, but he
seemed to have excellent reflexes as he turned the wheel with precise,
measured movements, as if the van were his weapon in a duel with the
landscape. He seemed to be able to apply total concentration to that
job, while still putting heartfelt attention into his conversation
with her. She couldn't make out much of his face in the dimming light,
but his hair was a striking shade of blue. Miho realized that she'd
been staring and quickly turned to the window. "It was okay, I guess,"
she managed to mumble, feeling her cheeks blush slightly.
"I see." He spared one hand from the steering wheel to reach across to
her. "I'm Miki, Miki Kaoru. I understand you're Miss Wakaba's sister?"
"Yes," she said, taking his hand after a moment's hesitation. "My name
is Miho Shinohara. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Kaoru." She felt
herself falling back on her old pattern of responses to
upperclassmen. It wasn't fair. He was the first boy she'd met since
coming here, and he just looked so wonderful, and he was trying to be
nice to her, and here she was acting like a witless schoolgirl.
She released his hand and clutched her bag to herself. She wished she
could go back to Tokyo, or even to America with Mother. Miho payed
little attention as the van passed the shrine and headed towards the
mountains. As they wound their way down a side rode, however, the
moonlight, brightening and fading as they passed under clumps of
trees, fell on Miki's right hand and reflected startlingly off of
something there.
Miho looked over at it. He was wearing a rose crest ring just like
Utena's. Her curiosity overrode her discouragement and she opened her
mouth to ask about it, but Miki must have noticed her glance. "This?"
he asked, holding up his hand. "It's the seal of the Academy. I got it
when I was chosen for the Student Council. All of us have them." He
looked over his shoulder at Utena in the back seat. "It's odd,
really. Miss Utena is the only person I've ever seen with one who
wasn't on Council."
She considered this. "So, how'd you get yours?" she asked Utena,
turning around in her seat.
Utena looked thoughtful. "It was a long time ago. I can't really
remember it. I know I've dreamt about it, though, and in my dreams it
always seemed as if the prince who gave it to me was completing a
mission, and that after he'd delivered it to me he was going to rest
and wait to see what I would do with it." She shook her head. "I still
don't know how he made sure I'd end up at Ohtori.
"A prince?" Miho asked. She didn't think any of the Imperial family
had ever attended Ohtori; it would have come up in that school project
from last term.
"Well, that's what it was in the dream. Who knows who it was in
reality. Probably a graduating student council member or someone like
that." Utena sighed. "I've given up trying to figure it out."
Miho nodded and turned back around. They'd emerged from the trees and,
having nearly reached the top of some foothills, the walks of the
Academy were in sight, gleaming white in the moonlight. Miho drew in
her breath. From this vantage, she could see most of the campus,
nestled in some lowlands between the hills and a forest, with
mountains shooting up behind that forest to bracket the night sky.
The van plunged down into the valley, and in a matter of minutes,
minutes that Miho spent with her face pressed to the window, they had
pulled up to the main gate. Utena and Miho got out and Miki drove
off. Utena explained that there was a garage around a few bends. She
went to the gate, unlatched it, and swung it wide open.
Miho had imagined what it would feel like to walk onto the campus of
such an extraordinary school and the day's events had only heightened
that expectation. She felt quite let down that the only thing she felt
upon stepping through the gate was the same fatigue she'd felt for the
past while.
"Come on," Utena said. "I don't know which dorm you'll end up in, but
it's late, so you might as well just spend the night at mine. We'll
find Wakaba tomorrow..." she trailed off, looking up at the forest
behind the campus. "Did you hear something, just now?" Miho shook her
head. "I thought..." Utena started again, then looked back at her.
"Okay, she said, "the dorm is this way." Miho followed her to the high
school section of the campus and thence to the east dorm. There were
only a few lights on in the building. Utena explained that this was
because the dorm was largely unoccupied. "My roommate and I are
actually the only ones living here, right now."
"Really? How come?"
"I'm not exactly sure; I know this dorm was actually closed down
before this school year started. I guess they just don't need any more
space at the moment."
Miho yawned; she had tried to fight it back, but it really was getting
late. Utena showed her to a room a few doors down from her own. The
bed was made and the room was surprisingly dust-free for an unoccupied
dorm. Utena must have guessed her thoughts, for she said, "We keep
this one ready for guests. It doesn't take much work and you never
know when it'll come in handy - like now."
"Thank you," Miho murmured. Utena reminded her that she was, after
all, only a few doors down, in case there were any problem, and
withdrew, closing the door behind her. Miho let her bag and package
fall to the desk surface and started to climb into bed, but turned
around to look at the package again. She realized that this was one
mystery of the day, at least, that she could unravel now.
Tugging the rough brown twine off the parcel, she unwrapped it to find
two sketchbooks. One of them was brand new, but one had quite a lot of
wear on it, just like hers had been. After a moment she realized that
this was because it _was_ hers.
This was, of course, absurd. The sketchbook had vanished on the
train. How had the art shop gotten ahold of it? Miho resolved to
return and interrogate this mysterious proprietor as soon as she
could. She flipped through it, checking to make sure the major works,
at least, were still there. They were; the proprietor hadn't
vandalized the book. When she got to the end, however, all the blank
pages after her drawing of the shadow-play girls (not that there had
been many left) had been removed. In their place, written on the back
cover, in a flowing, clear hand, was a note.
Miho, I'm sorry to have worried you over this book. As you may
come to understand, it was necessary. This, however, only
explains and does not excuse my actions. Please accept the
enclosed gift as a token of my apologies. I feel certain that
it will be useful to you as you explore the details of your new
surroundings. Sincerely, The Beginning
Miho reread the brief note. There was something that seemed faintly
familiar about the name at the end. For a moment, she thought it felt
like the strange feeling of recognition she'd had outside the station,
but the moment passed. She put her sketchbook back on the desk and
picked up the "gift." It looked expensive. Thick, heavy, cream-colored
pages; heavy covers with elaborate edging. She wondered if this
Beginning fellow had ever used a sketchbook. This wasn't the sort of
thing she was used to drawing in. This was the sort of sketchbook a
dilettante would buy. She supposed she'd make the best of it, though.
Almost absently, she pulled out a pencil and began to draw one of her
older characters. As she drew, her misgivings about the sketchbook
began to fade away. Gradually, she noticed an odd feeling. She felt as
if there were something in her surroundings that was measuring her
and, her not having been found wanting, preparing her somehow for
something. It was maddeningly vague and, in any case, not enough to
distract her from the task at hand. She did spare enough
concentration, though, to wonder if this might be what it felt like
when magic got hold of one.
After a few more minutes, she'd finished the drawing. She rummaged
around in her bag for an eraser, but when she looked again at the
drawing, she couldn't find anything that she could honestly call a
mistake. Perhaps that was the result of the sensation she'd felt
earlier? If so, the sketchbook was going to be very useful indeed. But
how had it been done? This, Miho decided, was not something she'd be
able to figure out by herself. She'd have to hope the proprietor knew
(and she rather suspected he did).
Miho fell back onto the bed, holding the sketchbook in the air. The
drawing was of an old character of hers, Marie Duhallier. She still
wanted someday to draw a manga featuring her, but she'd never come up
with a satisfactory plot.
This particular drawing was of Marie in her mid-teens -- a little
older than Wakaba, actually -- with the sort of sharp, strong features
so common in the French nobility, tempered by a peculiar sort of
developing beauty. Miho thought the combination arresting; better,
anyhow, than her own relatively plain face and features.
The secret was in the eyes. Marie's were clear and bright, only
occasionally laughing, but also only occasionally clouded with
fury. She would have been a stellar example of her gender, had Dumas
been so enlightened as to include her in his fiction. As things were,
she had to make do with Miho's second-rate storytelling. In time,
she'd figure something out, Miho was sure.
She idly traced the lines of Marie's face with her finger. Presently,
she moved on to Marie's hand, held in a somewhat martial salute. Miho
gasped. On Marie's finger was a rose seal, exactly like Utena and
Miki's. She was sure she hadn't drawn that! She reached out gingerly
to touch it.
When she made contact with the paper, the room exploded. Miho lost her
grip on the book; she thought she saw it hurled into a corner. She was
dimly aware that there wasn't actually anything wrong with the
room. It was, rather, that something that she'd felt in the room
earlier. She felt a violent wind circling through the room, but apart
from her new sketchbook, nothing seemed disturbed.
Simultaneously, there was (again, not physically present; it must have
been more magic) a sort of musical theme, as if a massive orchestra of
several million instruments were all playing at once, in an
astoundingly complex harmony. There was also a new instrument now
coming into play (for she had the firmest feeling that the symphony
had been going on for a very long time and it was just that she had
only now become aware of it), which gradually found its way into that
harmony.
It was her instrument, her theme which had started playing, she
realized, and then, as if that realization had been the key to
whatever was taking place, the whole thing fell completely silent.
The wind was gone. The room now seemed back to normal. Miho sat up and
looked over in the corner where the sketchbook had landed. It lay
there, cover neatly closed, seemingly none the worse for the wear --
which it might well be, she realized, given the lack of effect the
wind had had on other things in the room. She got up off the bed and
strode over to it. When she picked it up, she thought for a moment
that she could hear that symphony faintly. But it faded quickly, if
indeed she had heard it in the first place.
Straightening, she began to cross the room back to the desk, but as
she passed the mirror she caught a glimpse of her reflection and
stopped abruptly. She turned to face the mirror fully, then flipped
open the sketchbook. The girl staring back at her out of the mirror
looked exactly like the girl she'd drawn on the page. Nor was it a
trick of the mirror. A simple glance downwards quashed that
hope. Somehow, against all logic, she had been transformed into Marie.
She checked her hand. Yes, the signet was there, just like in the
drawing. It looked as if she might be able to find out what was so
special about the ring after all. She heard, muffled through the door,
the sound of a conversation in the hall. She went to the door and,
momentarily forgetting her appearance, stepped out into the hall.
Almost instantly, she realized what a mistake this could have
been. Miki was standing in the hall those few doors down. Fortunately,
he was looking at Utena, not at her, but she ducked back in her room
anyway.
"There was a note in the garage when I got there," Miki was
saying. "Apparently he expected us all to return together." He handed
a folded slip of paper to Utena. As she opened it, he continued,
"Anyhow, the story is, Saionji somehow tricked your friend Wakaba into
the forest and he's now holding her hostage. He says he'll kill her if
you don't bring Anthy to the dueling platform tonight."
"Do you think he'll do it?" Utena asked worriedly.
"It's possible," Miki admitted. "He's been acting, well, different,
recently. That he's lost two duels to you can't have helped."
"I see." Utena hmmed for a few minutes. "I guess we'll have to come
see what's going on. Would you come along, Miki, and try to bring Juri
if you can? If he's really gone crazy, I'd like to have allies."
"Certainly, Miss Utena." Miki nodded firmly.
Utena smiled back -- and was there more than a degree of affection in
that exchange? Miho wasn't sure -- and disappeared back into her
room. Miki turned away and went quickly to the doors at the end of the
hall. Miho followed, on tiptoe. She succeeded in following him outside
and halfway across the quad before her foot came down on a stray
branch, fallen from one of the trees. The crack wasn't loud, but Miki
stopped walking immediately. Miho's breathing seemed to roar in her
ears. A few seconds passed and Miho began to hope he'd ignore it and
continue on, but then Miki turned around, and Miho realized she was
illuminated almost perfectly by the full moon.
"Hello?" he asked, and Miho realized there was no hope for it. He'd
probably send her back to the dorm because she was just a young girl,
never mind that it was _her_ sister in danger! "Hello," Miki repeated,
approaching her.
Miho sighed. "Hello, Miki."
"I'm sorry, miss," Miki said uncertainly. "Do I know you?"
Of course! She was still Marie! She should have remembered right away,
given that she didn't have to look up at his face. "No," she
said. "But I've heard of you, and so I knew you right away." A small
lie, but her conscience twinged anyhow. She suppressed it and held out
her hand to him. "I'm Marie Duhallier."
Miki took it. "I'm glad to meet you, Miss Duhallier. Welcome to our
school. Have you just arrived?"
Miho nodded; it was true, after all, for both her and Marie. She
decided to try a direct approach. "I couldn't help overhearing you
talking with Utena earlier. Something about a dueling platform?" She
waved her hand back in the direction of the door. As she did so, her
ring caught the moonlight. She realized that it could make for a more
effective persuasion than she'd planned.
Miki's puzzled expression changed quickly to one of comprehension.
"Ah! So you're the newcomer we'd been told about?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Playing along would probably be best, at least for
now. Perhaps she'd be able to find out more about all this later on.
Miki suddenly looked at his watch. "Oh no! I'd better go get Juri," he
said. "Would you come along? You've got a signet; you've as much right
as any of us."
"Certainly!" Miho followed him to another of the dorms. It was locked,
of course, given the time, but Miki pulled a key out of his pocket.
"Universal key. One of the few perks of being on Council. We'll have
to hope she's still awake, though." Indeed, the key did unlock the
door. The RA on shift nodded to Miki as they passed by. It certainly
seemed as if the rose signet was as much a universal key as Miki's key
was. He led the way to a single room, close to the end of the hall.
To Miho's surprise, Juri appeared to have been waiting for them, for
her door was open and she was casually leaning against it. Miho didn't
know exactly what she'd been expecting to see, but she felt that Juri
exceeded those nebulous expectations. She was tall, taller than Utena,
and her red hair hung in vertical curls, which only heightened the
effect. She was very near to being absolutely stunning, except that
she was currently rubbing at her eyes with the back of one hand. "God,
Kaoru, have you any idea what time it is? Wait, wrong question," she
said, as Miki started to reach for his stopwatch. "But look, I've had
a busy week, between school, the team, and our late nights recently,
and I've got a test tomorrow. Can't this wait?" That certainly sounded
odd, Miho thought. She hoped this wasn't what it sounded like. She'd
hate it if Miki were that sort of person.
"I'm afraid not. I don't think this is the work of the End of the
World; at least, I hope not. I haven't heard of anyone receiving
letters, at any rate."
"Well, there was this," Juri said, handing a small envelope to Miki.
Miki blinked. "How long ago did this come?"
"I don't know. It had been wedged under the door while I was in the
shower. Why? Do you know who this Duhallier person is?"
"In fact, I do. Miss Duhallier," he said, turing to Miho, "meet Juri
Arisugawa. Miss Juri, meet Marie Duhallier." He handed the envelope to
Miho. "Here, this is for you."
How did these unseen people keep anticipating where she would be? Miho
looked the envelope over. It had her name on the front (well, not
hers, precisely, but she didn't know who else's it could have been) in
bold roman letters. There was a large blob of red wax on the back,
with (what else?) the Academy's rose seal stamped into it. Sliding a
finger under the flap, she broke the seal and opened the envelope.
Inside, she found a small piece of paper, quite heavy stock, and
written in the same bold hand.
Welcome to the Academy, Marie. I must admit that I was caught
off-guard when I heard you'd be arriving, but I'm sure you'll
find your bearings soon. Go with Miki and Juri tonight,
please. Your education here at the Academy is about to begin.
Best Regards, The End of the World.
Miho blinked. 'The End of the World'? Was there any connection to her
earlier note from that person who'd called himself 'The Beginning'?
She showed the note to Miki. "Do you know who this is?"
"'La Fin du Monde'? I don't know much French, but that sounds like
'End of the World', I imagine. I've gotten notes from him before,"
Miki said, and Juri nodded in agreement. "He seems to be the one
orchestrating these duels," Miki continued, "but my guess is that
Saionji (he's another Councilmember, you'll meet him soon) has grown
tired of following instructions." He sighed. "I can't say that I
disagree with him, but he had no right to involve Miss Shinohara."
French? Miho looked at the note again. It wasn't Japanese, she
realized, and she didn't think it was English either, though she
didn't know much of that language. But if it was French, how had she
read it? Had she somehow gained Marie's skills along with her body?
"I see. What are we supposed to do about this Saionji person?" she
asked, struggling to keep a quaver out of her voice.
"I think Miss Utena will be able to handle him adequately, but she did
ask for us to come along, in case something unexpected happens. I see
you already have a blade, Miss Duhallier, but I must confess I am
unprepared. Miss Juri, do you still have my backup?"
Juri nodded and stepped back into the room, apparently getting swords
out of the closet. Meanwhile, Miho checked her belt. Why, she _was_
wearing a sword. She wondered how she hadn't noticed it earlier,
especially since she _did_ remember drawing a sword on Marie, unlike
the Duelist ring.
"Here." Juri handed Miki a sheathed rapier, then buckled on her own.
"Well," she said, "shall we?"
Miki glanced at his ring and his face tightened with resolve. "Right.
Let's go," he said, leading Miho and Juri back outside. A few minutes
of brisk walking took them past the classroom buildings and the
belltower, some faculty residences, and two groundskeeping
outbuildings. There was perhaps fifty meters of open space beyond
that, until they finally came to the edge of the forest.
A tall stone wall stood before them, weathered by time, but still
solid enough to serve its purpose. Tree branches came up to the edge
of the wall, but none overhung it. Obviously the groundskeepers had
been doing a good job. Miki strode up to the gate and reached out to
touch the handle. Instead of grasping it, however, he pulled his arm
back and gestured to Miho. "Why don't you try it," he said.
Puzzled, Miho approached the door. It was solid stone and she couldn't
imagine that she would be strong enough to open it. Besides, the
handle was carved out of the stone! There had to be some kind of trick
to it, she thought, and it wasn't very sporting of Miki to make fun
this way. Gingerly, she reached out her hand and touched the cold
stone. There was no reaction until her fingers curled around the
handle. It didn't give when she tugged on it, and she was about to let
go when she felt something cold and wet touch her hand. She pulled it
back in shock, and a droplet of water slid off her ring and hit the
floor with an audible plop.
A slow rumbling began. Miho heard the sound of flowing water a few
seconds before the water began gushing out of ducts on either side of
the gate. Within moments, a mist had formed, obscuring her view of the
gate. The rumbling continued, a rising pitch her only clue that the
unseen gears were turning faster and faster. After several seconds,
the grinding slowed to a halt and the mist cleared away. The stone
door was gone, replaced with an arch which was decorated in the rose
motif that Miho had come to expect. "Huh," she said. Ohtori Academy
was going to ruin her sense of wonder, she thought, if her experiences
so far were any guide.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Miki asked.
She spun around. "Don't startle me like that!"
"Sorry," he replied. "I guess you're not used to this sort of
thing. I'd forgotten how strange it can be the first time. This is the
Forest of Secrets, after all."
"It's okay," she said. She glanced over at Juri. The redhead met her
eyes with a wry little sort of half-smile. Miho shrugged in
resignation. It was clear that life at Ohtori was going to be odd, and
there didn't appear to be any alternative but to try to get used to
it.
"Come on," Miki said, stepping in front. "It's just ahead, through
these trees."
The trees were thick and uninviting. Even if she hadn't had a reason
to hurry on ahead, she wouldn't have felt inclined to adventure off
the path. Undergrowth, vines, and various other doubtless interesting
botanical specimens intertwined their way through the trees, but
somehow the path was well defined. Miho doubted the groundskeepers
came into this forest to clear the path away.
She turned her attention back to the path, and where it was leading
them. There was a clearing just ahead. Miho didn't think she'd seen
it, earlier. She turned to look behind, and saw that the path
stretched away for yards until it was swallowed up in darkness. Forest
of Secrets indeed; she didn't think they'd been walking for _that_
long.
There wasn't much light; just the moonlight shining through gaps in
the trees as the leaves waved gently. Miho shuddered as she realized
that there wasn't any breeze moving the branches; they were doing it
on their own. When she looked up at it, the moonlight didn't seem
friendly anymore and she began to wonder if it ever had. For the first
time, she felt that she might have been far better off without her
experiences today. Magic was not always benevolent, in the stories,
and she knew where the word "fey" came from.
Miho fought back her fear. Like it or not, she was stuck with this
magic, at least until she could find some privacy and figure out how
to change back. She forced herself to look back to the clearing. It
had changed, like the rest of the forest, and now, with the clearing
only meters ahead, she could clearly see a large stone stairway, well
lit despite the time, winding up out of sight.
As they walked into the clearing and up to the staircase, Miho saw
that it went much higher than she had thought possible. Furthermore,
when she looked up at the sky, it was apparent that up at the top of
the stairs, wherever that was, it wasn't nighttime at all.
"What is this place?" she asked, shaking her head.
Miki smiled, a smile that seemed subtly different from the one she'd
received earlier, in the van. "At the top of these stairs is the
dueling arena, where the revolution of the world is decided. Come," he
said, holding out his hand. "Time is wasting." He led her to the foot
of the stairs and the two of them began to climb, Juri following
behind.
*End Chapter One*