Until the Darkness Takes Me
Clang! Thwap! Thud.
“Next!”
Another opponent stepped onto the field. Arisugawa Juri took him
down as she had the previous eight: gracefully, quickly, mercilessly.
Her conscience nipped at her angry mind. Here she was, taking out her
frustrations on people who admired her and would never have her skill.
As always, she tried to rationalize. She never received mercy; why
should she grant it?
Clink! Smack! That kid would have a bruise on his neck for two
or three weeks. “Next!” Juri shouted.
“What’s gotten into her?” Miki whispered to his sister. “She’s
being…mean.”
“I may tell you when you’re ready to handle it,” Kozue replied
carelessly. “For now, let’s just say she had a rough night.”
Kozue hadn’t been there, but she could guess what had happened.
Loving Shiori had to be like loving a venomous serpent. At best, it
could only be cold, dry, and mechanical. At worst, it could be
painful and deadly.
As she battled, Juri relived the previous night’s suffering. The
delicate-looking demoness had come to her room earlier than usual.
Juri had tried to ignore her, but Shiori had her own key to the room.
She’d walked in as if she owned the place, and she’d gotten Juri to
look at her.
It was all over after that. Juri was powerless once she’d seen
Shiori: that soft, fine hair, those full, lovely lips, those perfect
legs, those wonderful eyes…Shiori knew her gifts. She knew that her
physical beauty made her irresistible. She’d taken Juri to the
bedroom and had her way with her. Juri always made terrific love, and
Shiori had gotten the red-haired fencer to please her for nearly an
hour before she allowed her to relax. Shiori knew that Juri always
did her best in the hope that one day Shiori would forsake all others
and be hers alone. Shiori enjoyed the attention and the pleasure.
When she was satisfied, Shiori had gotten up from Juri’s bed.
Juri had asked her--nearly begged her--to stay. But it made no
difference to the violet-haired girl. She’d left anyway, as she did
every time. And as usual, her own room was not her destination.
Juri was exhausted with Shiori’s behavior. No one would ever know
that she had cried herself dry last night. She fought today to prove
that she was worth something, but it wasn’t working. Each victory was
hollow. Shiori didn’t fight with a sword. Juri couldn’t beat her.
Worse, Shiori wasn’t here to see how impressive Juri’s skills were.
Because Juri had never won the Rose Bride, Shiori didn’t even care how
well she could fight. Shiori wanted only victory.
Juri was angry with a lot of people now: Shiori, Utena, Touga, and
herself. But Juri was working off her anger. She knew that she
wasn’t accomplishing anything with this little tantrum. Her problems
still existed. There had to be a way to deal with them, and she was
growing determined to find that way.
The practice done, Juri told her students and admirers to keep
working to improve. She headed for the showers then, wanting to clean
her soul as well as her body. There were only a few girls in the
locker room when she entered, and they respectfully gave her her
space.
“Damn it, I received the Mark of the Rose,” Juri muttered as she
washed. “I must be worthy. I must be capable of victory! I’ve
practiced, I’ve studied, I’ve exercised. I can win!”
But how? For some reason, Tenjou Utena was maddeningly hard to
beat. Her style was good, but not great. Her strength was nothing
compared to Juri’s. Utena kept managing to win when she should have
lost.
But what about Touga? Juri loathed the man. He’d never won the
tournament either, but Shiori continued to—
“—What are you thinking so hard about?” a mocking, soft voice
asked. “You’re always so driven, Juri-sama.”
Out of habit, Juri turned to see the speaker. She knew who was
talking to her—the person she despised and loved. “What do you want,
Shiori-chan?” the tall fencer snapped.
“Just to take a shower.”
The petite woman hung her towel on a nearby hook and stood naked
in front of Juri. “You get my back, I’ll get yours, ne?” Shiori asked
in her most innocent voice. “Once we’re nice and clean, we can go to
your room.”
“Shiori…” Juri fumed. This girl was a large part of her troubles,
and she took it for granted that Juri wouldn’t ever refuse her. But
she could take it for granted. Juri ground her molars, thoroughly
frustrated and powerless. She did as Shiori expected, washing her
meticulously, taking all her guidance. Shiori’s short, thin, pale
form was a striking contrast to Juri’s tall, tanned, muscular frame.
As ever, Shiori’s deceptive beauty captivated Juri.
“All right!” Shiori pronounced with a genki smile as she dried
herself. “I feel much better, don’t you?”
Juri’s vain hope was returning. “Yes, I feel better. We need to
have a serious talk when we get to the room, okay?”
“Sure.”
“I mean it! Do you promise, Shiori-chan?”
“I promise.”
How many times had she done that? Juri didn’t believe her, and it
didn’t matter. Juri laid Shiori on her expansive, perfumed mattress
and blessed her with climactic pleasure. Shiori gave in return, but
not as good as she got. Juri could never be allowed to forget who
controlled this relationship.
“Well, it’s time for me to go, Juri-sama,” the slim woman
announced glibly when she’d gotten what she wanted.
“You promised that we’d talk.”
“So I did. Talk.”
“I don’t want you to go, Shiori-chan.”
Shiori laughed shortly. “This isn’t about you! It’s about me.
Sometimes I wonder why I even let myself be seen with someone as
pathetic as you. You aren’t even that good a lover.”
“You’re lying. How many times did I make you come tonight? It
must’ve been at least four. You wouldn’t fake it; that wouldn’t
accomplish anything except to make me feel good about myself and
that’s the opposite of what you want.”
“Okay, you are a good lover. But that’s all you are. We both
wish you were more useful. If you keep at it, you might be a good
enough fighter for me to use you in that role. That would result in
more time with me and more attention from me. So that can be your
motivation.
“As of now, my fighter is Touga, not you. That’s whom I’m about
to sleep with. Don’t worry. As long as he’s my fighter, you’ll
always be my source of satisfaction—he’s hopeless when it comes to
that.”
Shiori flounced out of the room, not bothering to close the door.
Juri rose from the bed and got dressed. She stumbled to the pegs that
held her sword and pulled the weapon from its place. She slammed the
door behind her and ran to the practice field.
It was after hours, and the field was deserted. Juri laced into a
cedar training dummy. “Damn. Damn. Damn!” She’d been used. It
hurt. “Why, Shiori? Why can’t I break free of your thrall?”
This morning, I was so angry with her. I was so sure that I’d
tell her off when she slithered up to me. I thought I had the
strength to defy her.
I did have the strength. When I saw her, I lost it. My resolve
crumbled like gypsum when I beheld those lovely eyes.
I can’t live like this, Juri thought. I love her but she’ll never
love me. I will die of a broken heart if I can’t find a way to resist
her beauty.
Then Juri thought of a way. She hesitated for less than a second.
The tall redhead raised her sword. She thrust once. The pain was
intense but she had to continue. She thrust again. The sword fell to
the lawn with a thump. Juri dropped to her knees.
“I’ve beaten you!” she cried maniacally. Blood and tears ran from
her ruined eyes. “I’m not your plaything! I love you, Shiori-chan.
But I am no longer your toy!” She fell, senseless.
“Kami-sama!” a familiar voice shrieked. The girl had spotted the
fencer lying bloody on the field. “Juri! What happened,
Juri-sensei?”
“I escaped,” the redhead told Kozue simply.
“Escaped? Shiori. Shiori did this,” Kozue whispered in horror.
“Better to be blind and free than look at your captor every day of
your life…”
“But you love her. Are you really free?” Kozue asked, kneeling
and holding Juri in a way she hoped was reassuring.
“Hai. Because this is proof that I’m strong enough to finally let
go. It takes two people to love. I may know real love one day.”
Tears leaked from Kozue’s eyes. “I pray you do.”
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