No Dominion
My footsteps echo as I step into the old fencing hall, now new again. I
have seen its burned ruins, covered with ash and moss, but this time it is as
I first saw it, as it was when my parents were here. All thanks to her.
I know now she was behind all this. The fencing hall, the note promising
I would vanish away, the threats and temptations the Duelists have had all
this past week. She has been trying to turn everything against me, and now I
want to know why.
If I told Utena or the others, they would of course say it was too
dangerous for me to go alone. They have many of the same suspicions of her
that I do, and for much better reason. She stole Juri-sempai's locket. She
humiliated Saionji-san in front of the kendo club. She dated Kozue-chan to
get to Miki-kun. She was probably the one who tried to steal my father's
fencing saber from my room.
That's why I have it with me. To defend myself. Or possibly to see why
she wanted it. I have to know for sure -- why she hates me so, why she did so
much to spite me. I have to know if my crazy hunch is right. The others
would say it still isn't safe, of course. I have almost no training with it.
I'm not a fighter like they are. I'm just an ordinary girl, thrust into
something I don't understand. But I am here anyway.
She is not in the entry hall, or the fencing gyms, or the locker room
where we first met. Nowhere on the ground floor. But in the back, I find
stairs leading downwards, and hear a faint sound echoing through them. I
descend.
There is something odd about this place. I can feel the weight of its
past pressing in on me. Did she really burn it down, so many years ago? I
have seen the wreckage, but it is here now. Somehow, in this place, the
answer is both 'no' and 'yes.' The possibilities swirl around me, whispering
of 'what ifs' and 'might-have-beens' in my ear, telling me of worlds that
never were.
...or perhaps it's just the wind.
She's got me far too nervous.
In the basement, the light of evening slants through the casement
windows, set high into the walls, sending dusty light across racks of old
foils and musty fencing suits. Pads and mats, tattered and moth-eaten, cover
the ground. In the center of the room, I see a suit and mask lying on the
floor, torn and shredded.
And, standing over it, her.
"So, you've come at last, Princess." She faces away from me, looking
down on the torn suit. "You've figured it all out."
I nod shakily, clutching father's saber to my chest. "Yes... at last," I
whisper. So many things had come together, and in this place, I suddenly know
I was right. Chigusa's face in the old yearbooks she had tried to hide. The
reports in the archived school newspapers of this fencing hall burning down
fifteen years ago today -- the day mother and father got married. Why the
town seemed so different to her. Why she reacted the way she did to mentions
of my parents.
Why she hates me so.
"It had to be today, you know," she says. "When the Prince loses her
duel to me. When I get the power to bring revolution to the world, then I'll
be able to change anything. And what I'll change is what happened that day.
She will die in the fire I set. I will marry him. And you..." She looks
back over her shoulder at me for a moment. "You will vanish away."
I gasp. She looks at me strangely. "It's true, you know. You'll never
have existed," she says conversationally. "You won't even know what happened,
my Snow White. But the poison apple will work this time. The Wicked Queen
will win." She looks at the saber at my breast and smiles. "All I need
now... is a weapon. His weapon."
"No!" I shout. "I won't give it to you. Utena is..."
"Utena?" Her face twists into a smile. "Your Prince can't save you now,
dear. But if you insist..."
She turns with the speed of lightning. The saber she holds, hidden by
her body before, flashes out, lunging to strike my hand, to knock my father's
saber away.
*CLANG*
And our swords clash. I can't even remember twisting it in my grip, but
now I hold it in the fencing stance Juri-sempai took such pains to teach me.
Chigusa's eyes widen as we stand there locked together. Then her face
hardens, her smile turns feral.
The battle is joined.
And now it is over.
Her saber goes flying off into the air, clattering to the ground behind a
rack of masks. She stares, wide-eyed at me, unbelieving. I am breathing
heavily, exhausted by the exertion, my head swimming in a daze. But my saber
is steady in my hand.
"No..." she whispers.
She falls forward, barely catching herself on the edge of a counter. The
fight has gone out of her, I realize, and with that my saber finally falls
from my nerveless fingers. I quickly roll it under the same counter with my
foot, before she gets any ideas.
Now my hands are shaking.
As I stare at her, as she stares at me, I look deep into her eyes. I see
myself reflected there, but so much more. Through my daze, I see all the
other people I could have been. Myself alone, descending into darkness in a
confessional elevator. Myself riding into the night in a fast car, the
passenger of someone else's will.
I take hold of her shoulders to steady myself, to steady her. Images
flash through my mind, reeling and swirling. Utena kissing the tears from my
eyes. Juri-sempai kissing my brow. Handing me a locket.
"You shouldn't exist, dammit. He should have been mine. Not hers.
Mine."
I lunge forth to kiss Miki-kun on his (surprised, very surprised) lips.
I tenderly take Saionji-san's mouth. Touga-san's.
"She was the weak one." Tears are rolling down her cheeks. Such a
strange sight. Such a betrayal of her wickedness. "I was stronger, smarter,
better. I beat her. But she still won. And I had to be the Wicked Queen."
I feel Anthy's hands soaping my slick back, rubbing the stress from my
muscles. All right, I say, now it's my turn. I feel my hands running over
her back, her sides, 'accidentally' slipping to cup her firm breasts, feeling
her hard nipples pressing into my palms...
Chigusa looks at me. Such despair. Such sadness. She's had nothing
else for so long. Since before I was born. I was only born by the grace of
her loss. I see a lone, final tear, starting its long journey of pain.
I cannot help myself. My lips brush against it, taking its salt into my
mouth, its sadness into my soul.
"I love you," I whisper.
She gasps, eyes wide with shock and fear, and I press my lips to hers.
She tastes of the smoke of old fires, and salt again, the salt of so many
years of sadness. How could I not have seen it from the first? She hated me
out of envy of me for living, of my mother for loving, of my father for his
happy ending. She wanted to live, to be happy. To love. Instead she lived a
life alone. A death alone.
She pulls away. "Please... no," she whispers. "You have to fear me. To
hate me. I'm stealing away your father, your friends, your life..." I look
into her eyes again, seeing the fear in them as her life loses all certainty,
all rationality. "I can't let you... I'm not..."
"Shhh." I press my finger to her lips. I feel so confident now. So
bold. My world has finally fallen into place. "I know. But I still love
you. Even for all you've done."
I kiss her again, and she does not resist this time. I can feel her body
tremble as I enfold her in my arms, as she struggles with her urges. Will she
embrace me? Will she flee from me? Will she take my neck in her hands and
gently strangle the life from me, as she tried once? I almost wouldn't mind,
I realize in surprise, if only it would make her happy. Dying in her arms...
perhaps it really is a small price for love. I never would have believed it
until now.
But death is not waiting for me today. I feel her body drain of tension,
and slowly relax against me. She does not embrace me, not yet, but I feel her
stomach, her hips, her breasts against mine. The warmth of her body
surrendering to me.
Gently, I pull away from our kiss and lower my head, kissing the hollow
of her throat, then the space between her breasts. How could I ever have
mistaken her for a man, I wonder as I slide a hand under the lacing of her
bodice, rubbing her nipple, already firming as I touch it. I saw her that
first time in the fencing hall and thought her so handsome. So beautiful.
She is both, I realize as I pull apart the lacings and gently slide her shirt
off. But beautiful first.
I have seen other girls naked before, of course. Some very beautiful,
too. I remember Juri-sempai in the shower after fencing practice, water
rushing down her body and between her breasts as we talked of our old wounds.
I remember Utena showering, too. We had played basketball at midnight, and I
watched her afterwards, rubbing her whole body with a soapy washcloth and
squeezing the water from her long, beautiful hair. I remember the shame of
being so aroused, and the envy of their perfect bodies. But Chigusa puts them
to shame. Her breasts are not at all large, standing so perfectly on her thin
frame, those of an athlete, not a model. Her stomach has not an inch of
excess fat on it. Her arms are perfectly formed, subtle muscles giving
strength to her beauty.
I take a nipple into my mouth, and she gasps again, as I feel it fully
hardening between my lips. I run my tongue over it, gently tease it with my
teeth. She slowly leans backwards, and I guide her down onto a mat left on
the floor long ago, to catch the athletes who fell. She finally responds,
wrapping her arms around me as she lies on her back. One hand slides upwards
to rub the back of my head, clutching me to her bosom as I gently suckle her,
the other running lower, past the edge of the wickedly short skirt of my
uniform...
Cold electricity runs up my spine as she slips the hand beneath my skirt,
running a hand over my bottom, tracing lines on my panties. No one has ever
touched me like that before, and the reality of it is beyond even my wildest
dreams, childish as they were. She is hesitant, uncertain, but it doesn't
matter; the mere fact that it is her would be more than enough even if she
were completely incompetent. And, I realize as her hand strays lower, and I
cry out involuntarily, she is not.
We slip out of the rest of our clothes quickly. She toys with the tie of
my uniform for a moment as she pulls it undone; I slide her pants and panties
off her hips, marveling that such a daring girl would wear simple white
cotton. Naked, we fall into each others arms again. I run my hand through
her long blue curls, and she gently tugs at one of my braids, trying to remove
the ring that holds the end together. She gives up as I nuzzle at her cheek,
and our bodies meld together. She is taller than I am, but she moves her hips
so that her sex touches mine, and I feel sparks as our clitorises press
together. I rub against her reflexively, each tiny motion sending new waves
of dazzling warmth through my body as our mounds slide against each other,
dampening each others skin and hair with our arousal.
Chigusa runs a hand across my shoulder, down my side. Our eyes stare
into each other as she traces my ribcage, touches my navel. And then she
slips between my legs. I bite my lip to keep from crying out again as she
rolls my clitoris between two fingers, nearly overwhelming me with the
intensity. She slides the fingers around the edges of my lips, traces spirals
on my inner thighs. Then one finger slips inside of me, and I cannot suppress
a moan as I feel its pressure inside me. Another finger joins it, then a third,
and a fourth, each one stretching me farther than I would have dreamed
possible. Her thumb plays across my clitoris, her fingers writhe inside me,
and I can't hold back any longer. My back arches, my arms clutch her tightly
to me, and I am distantly aware of how loud I cry out as an orgasm -- my first
-- hits me full force.
Slowly, I regain my senses, as the aftershocks of pleasure fade from my
body. Chigusa is holding me, stroking my back and hair, her cheek pressed
against mine. I lift my head, try to focus on her eyes for a moment, then
kiss her deeply, dancing my tongue against hers. Her attentions and the
thrill of all we have done have worn me out, and my limbs feel like dead
weight, but I don't want to stop. I run my hands across the line of her chin,
then slide down her body. Her breasts slide under my hands, her belly, slick
with sweat, the bones of her hip pressing against the skin. I see her thatch
of pale blue hair, just slightly darker than that on her head, and the more
precious bits beneath.
She whispers my name as I gently kiss the lips before me once. Then I
move lower, kissing my way up one inner thigh and down the other. I run my
tongue along the edges of her lips, from the bottom almost to the hood,
stopping just short of the clitoris, tantalizing her. She moans and clutches
at my head, drawing me in closer, twining her fingers in my hair.
I push the tip of my tongue just barely between her lips. The taste of
her wetness is so strange, but I find I rather like it. Slowly, I draw my
tongue up, then remove it entirely as I kiss her clitoris, holding onto her
hips as a shudder runs through her body. I carefully take it between my lips
and circle it with my tongue. She cries out, arching backwards and clutching
me to her. I delicately stroke her hood with my tongue, then gently, gently
close my teeth on it...
She comes. Crying my name, clutching me to her, her body bucking up and
down, and I find a small orgasm rushing through my own body as I see her in
exquisite, beautiful ecstasy. She is beautiful. I love her. And to see her
like this... I would do anything to stay in this moment of bliss forever.
I want to do more. I want to feel every inch of her body, to make her
cry in beautiful pleasure for an eternity. I want to feel her hands, her
tongue, her body on mine forever, taking me to my limits and beyond. But my
body is exhausted with all we have done, and so is hers. We are slick with
sweat, breathing deeply, our hearts beating so fast. Crawling upwards, I
cradle her in my arms again. Her eyes are already almost closed, but she
smiles at me. The first true smile I have seen on her, untwisted by malice or
fear. Her joy means as much to me as any of the orgasms we have had, if not
more. And with my heart free and soaring at last, I drift to sleep, holding
her warm form to me, feeling her heart beat with mine.
I wake alone.
It is morning; the sun shines through the casement windows high above,
and morning birds sing in the distance. Soot streaks the once-pristine walls,
illuminated by the shafts of morning light. My clothes are scattered beside
the mat, but hers are gone.
I am alone.
I dress in silence, and hurry up the stairs. The fencing hall is a ruin
again, burned almost to the ground. I make my way to the locker room where we
first met. The lockers are merely cold, twisted lumps of metal; the wall with
its calendar and strange mural merely blackened stone.
My foot taps against something intact in the wreckage, near the former
lockers. Reaching into the cold, dead ashes, I pull out a cracked wooden
nametag, loosely bound in dangling loops of red thread. The name on it is my
father's. His mark from his time in the fencing club. I remember Wakaba-chan
telling me of an old Ohtori superstition: that if you tie your beloved's
nametag in red thread and hide it in your locker, their love will be yours.
And I remember the ghost stories of my childhood, and how the ghosts always
needed something precious to tie them to this world.
I almost begin to cry. But she wouldn't want that.
It comes as little surprise that nobody, not even Utena, remembers
Chigusa or what she did. It is as if she never existed. Nor am I shocked
when mother calls and tells me father has fallen ill, and she needs my help to
care for him. I don't mind. There is nothing more to bind me here.
I say my goodbyes to them all on the steps of the school. Utena, Anthy,
Miki-kun, Juri-sempai, Touga-san, even Saionji-san. I look each of them in
the eye, and remember what I felt in the fencing hall. Could I really have
loved them all, if this were another world? Could they really have loved me?
But those worlds are not this one. Happy memories are all we share. I
shall miss them, but not forever. They have their own lives to lead. They
have their own loves to find.
I have found mine.
And I carry her token in my bag, wrapped in red thread.
We'll meet again, Chigusa. I promise.
###
Author's Notes:
I always thought there should be an ending like this to the Sega Saturn game.
(Well, minus the explicit sex, of course.) I was greatly disappointed when I
found that even with the 'perfect' ending there was no way to really reconcile
with Chigusa. But that's what fanfic is for.
Probably not a lot of people will get this, since not everyone has the game.
There's a great site about it at
http://members.spree.com/entertainment/ririka333/utena/index.htm , which
includes pictures of the two protagonists here (Sanjouin Chigusa and her
nemesis, the unnamed player character). Fans may be interested to note that
all of the other scenes mentioned here can be found in the game, including
shower scenes with Juri, Anthy, and Utena. (The males get shirtless too, for
those interested.)
The idea for this just grabbed me one evening as I was thinking about the
contest, and it wouldn't let go. The present-tense voice and the purplish
prose came almost automatically, and resisted changing, so I ran with them.
Let me know if it worked or not. (Also, for obvious reasons, I've never
experienced lesbian sex, so I'd appreciate any comments on how realistic it
was, or any corrections. ;) Any comments at all are always welcome,
actually.)
On the off chance that this wins, I'm going to be out of town on the judging
date, so I'll have to accept in absentia. But just in case... Thank you!
Thank you all! You've made me so proud!
Well, it's done. Now it's time to read the other entries, and see if I have a
snowball's chance. ;)
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