Disclaimer:
All characters in this story belong to the creators/animators of Shoujo Kakumei Utena. The story is my own, so please give me credit if you wish to use it. Any references or similarities to other fanfics or scripts are completely coincidence: if you email me and tell me (politely, please), I will more than gladly include you in the “credits”. I hope you enjoy it.-Carrie (Kaioh Michiru)
Salvation
for my prince
I am cold. The wind is raging with fury, slicing through me, slithering up my back and through my hair and around my throat, trying to get into my body, my blood. My lips part and a scream rushes out from the bottom of my lungs, and the wind laughs and slips through my gritted teeth, enveloping my entire being and it is so very cold. My eyes are glassy with frost, my head pounds from the inside and I am crying, the tears form crystals on my face, it is cold. But it is warm now, it is warm and there is a light ahead of me, shining with hope, blinding in it’s own brilliance. I stretch my arms towards it and I am warm, I am safe, I call out for it. The warmth spreads through my fingertips and through my shoulders, racing along my spine and my face, it shines upon my face and I laugh through my tears, my hands dancing around the drifting light. Warm, but colder now, it’s leaving me, don’t leave me don’t leave me I’ll die here if you leave me, please, take me with you. No, no, don’t abandon me don’t leave me here, the cold will take over my body I can’t fight any longer I’ll die save me.
I jerk rudely into consciousness. My torso shakes with dry sobs that will not come, my cheeks are damp with forgotten tears. My hair is plastered along my shoulders, bonded with mocking sweat which came in the night as I screamed in my cursed sleep. My breath is heavy, I cannot get enough air into my selfish, thirsty lungs. I shudder with internal chill, though the cold place which haunted me in my slumber is far away now. But it’s not gone, it’s never gone, always there, wanting me to drop my painted facade and waiting, waiting to take me away when I forget to hide behind my counterfeit smile. I can never flee the foul places which lurk in my mind. I try, I try so hard to laugh but I can’t, not when those places laugh back at me, waiting. In my isolated chamber I hug my arms to my chest, the tears now flowing freely and silently down my streaked skin. In fatigue and loneliness, I cry into the night.
X
Why do they look at me like that? Since the day they came here they’ve watched me, and I know what they’re thinking. When they speak they use sugary syrupy voices and they stroke my hair, they tell me how pretty I am and shouldn’t I talk some more, I’m too shy. But I know what they think. I’m not one of them. They stroke my hair and laugh, they laugh at me and they look at me as if I’m a wretched monster. I don’t care. I’ve seen them come and go, their miserable, petty lives fluttering before my eyes. They do not know what I know, they cannot hold time in their hands, they cannot caress their fate. They are all the same to me. To them, I am their consolation prize, a worthless thing to be won over and over until I am faded and worn, like an unwanted toy, stupid and lifeless. I know what they think. But she is different. She hasn’t left me yet. She whispers into my ears and makes me smile. She says I am her only, she spills her precious blood for me. Into my tired eyes she gazes, she kisses my forehead and wraps her arms around my bony shoulders. She promises me the stars. I am as afraid of her as I am afraid of the horrors in my mind, because I do not know what she thinks, I can not read her face, and I am afraid that she may leave me. My thoughts are only of her and that scares me, my mind filled with this strange girl over whom I have no control.
X
The dew is fresh upon the morning ground. In my garden sanctuary, a quiet, sweet melody drifts through the air, and I close my eyes. The sunlight splinters playfully across the glass walls. All shapes outside fade into a blur of nothingness, so that time is trapped within my beautiful prison. I hum softly to myself as I finger the roses, their petals light and velvety in my slender fingers. The song swells and fills my ears, I sink onto the floor. My mind drifts, and I lose all grasp of my surroundings. Suddenly, the song stops, and when I open my eyes she is there, holding her hand out to me. I take it, breathless, and she raises me up, pulling me close to her breast. She smiles down at me, I do not know what she is thinking. Her fingers trace my eyebrows, my cheekbones, the shape of my lips. She is warm, I lose myself in the purity of her bottomless blue eyes. Her hand falls from my face, and she runs her fingers through my hair. I shake my head and sweep my hands across the soft fabric of her jacket. Tipping my chin up towards hers, she brushes each of my cheeks with her lips, barely touching my delicate skin. My head drops, and I stumble away from her, falling backwards into my bed of roses, their thorns bloodying my outstretched palms. She seizes me, but I twist away from her and cover my face. She whispers softly, “Himemiya.” Why can’t I read your face, I can’t read your face! I shriek and push her away. Stop, she tells me, but I won’t. My face is covered with blood, I can taste my own blood and I look away in shame. What is she thinking? She lifts my blood soaked hands to her chest and wipes them gently on her jacket. I pull away, and collapse into the flowers, my whole body shaking. She stands and leaves, I wanted her to leave, I knew she would leave me. They always do. I raise my eyes to the sky and I laugh until my tears wash away the blood on my face.
X
Nightfall. The prospect of sleep brings no relief. I glance at the darkening sky. The moon is out - strange, the moon is. When I was younger, I used to make wishes when I saw the moon. I laugh softly to myself. Wishes. What a deceiving word. There are no such things as wishes: there is only life and death, and even those aren’t very different. When there is life, there is fear. With death comes peace, and truth. A breath of wind passes, whispering in my ear. I shudder, drawing myself to my feet. As the last faint ray of golden sunlight disappears from the horizon, I head for home.X
From the rain soaked street I can see my window. Other lights are on in the house, downstairs, and I can hear the faint chime of voices and laughter. A party, perhaps? I approach the wrought iron gates. With the slightest force from my amber palms they glide noiselessly apart. The large French doors loom over me, unlocked. I don’t bother to knock. I wouldn’t be heard. Inside, the noise is coming from the ballroom. Through a faint splintered crack in the entrance, I can recognize the dim figures, their voices muffled by the loud music. The President, surrounded by girls much too young for him, and drunk, no doubt. That attractive girl, Jury-sempai, in the corner, wistfully watching the people dance. Miki-san, blushing as a cute student whispers in his ear. My brother, alone and unseen, standing in the shadows, taking it all in. Not surprising, he’s rarely noticed, at least in person. I turn from the door with a sudden chill through my skin, and mount the steps to my bedroom. Recently, I’ve been tired more, and the stairs drain the most of my energy. A warm glow shines from inside my chamber, and I advance towards it. The mahogany door creaks open. A fire burns brightly in the fireplace, a bouquet of fresh roses rests on my bureau. I sigh, slowly stripping my clothes off, peeling each layer carefully from my skin, until I’m bare, shivering, despite the flames licking at my slender heels. I reach for the pearl silken nightdress resting, like a pair of discarded angel wings, on my bed. The dress is soft, I pull it over my head, the fabric brushing my skin so gently, weightless. I tug at the hem, smoothing it out. “It looks good on me,” I murmur, not bothering with modesty. I step delicately towards the bureau, my virgin gown rustling behind me like waves upon the sand. I lift the roses, fingering them as one would handle a newborn child. Memories. Misty tears form on my eyelashes. They bear no card, no indication of who they’re from. I brush the salty drops from my cheeks, laying the roses carefully on the floor. My gaze drops. Where the roses were resting lays a deep red flask, filled with a dark liquid. A shade of Arsenic. I grasp the bottle, my hands shaking. Lifting it to my face, I breath in the sweet perfume. The scent is familiar. Ah- I remember this one. I raise my head, my violet hair tumbling into my face. My reflection smiles seductively back from the mirror. “I dare you,” her face reads. “Life death, does it matter? Is there really such a difference? Go ahead. I dare you.” A way out. Escape. Does it matter? I seize the bottle and pour the contents into my mouth, burning my throat, the room is spinning and my reflection is laughing at me. The flask drops from my trembling fingers, shattering upon the floor into a million crimson shards, drifting rose petals at your lover‘s funeral. My knees buckle, I fall to the floor, darkness brims on the edge of my mind. “When there is life, there is fear. With death comes peace, and truth.” I welcome the darkness. It flows into my mind and my soul, infectious, soiled, poisoned. My eyelids flutter shut. My hand traces the symbol of a cross upon my chest, slower, slower, until my fingers tremor, then cease to move. My breath is strained, exaggerated upon my cracked lips. Lethargy overcomes my drugged body, the weight of the air crushes my bones. In my veins, my blood begins to freeze. Heartbeats, but barely, and far apart. And then... quiet. Somewhere, a single flame, burning for so long, goes out in a breath of wind. A cloud passes over the moon.
X
“Did you hear that?”
“Hmm?”
“Noises...”
“Noises?”
“No.”
Silence.
Her hand grips the banister, knuckles white, toes curled.
Possibilities.
Climbing... careful, distinct steps, then faster.
Faster? Faster.
Possibilities.
An open door.
Head tilted, eyes wide.
A question.
No answer.
Forced question. Choked voice.
No answer.
Footsteps.
Scream.
Grab her bony shoulders, shake her until she breaths again, don’t get tears on the silk it may stain.
Desperate.
Broken.
Broken glass, broken life. Dark pools of blood, seeping from the petals, draining from her...
Too late.
Lift the body onto the bed, slip a rose between the entwined fingers.
Rose hair mingling with violet.
Lie next to her helplessly, and wait.
“Wait for what?”
Just...wait, not able to leave, to move, trapped inside a chamber of death, her own life weak and wavering and brittle. Not able to speak, to shout, even to laugh. Only to weep, soundlessly, suffocating in her own tears as they trickle down her ivory skin.
The fire flickers. Wisps of smoke fill the air.
Whisper.
“Where have you gone?”
Silence.
Have I?
X
Cold again. Always the same cold- in sleep, in death, in waking. Darkness like the darkness in my mind, my own fatal darkness, my doom, my demise. No questions answered, just hushed and so stifled by the dark quiet that they go away, unnoticed and still unanswered. Loneliness, ripping at my heart which beats cold and false in this black reality.
Familiar light, drifting towards me. Promising to rid me of my loneliness, don’t trust the damned light. Shining bigger, brighter, erupting it’s gold from its invisible center, I refuse the warmth. In the glow I see the snow- falling softly, casting midnight rainbows in the moonlight. Tear me apart, take the light away, why does it come even here why does it ever come just to leave me again. A game, each time draining a little more hope from my foolish mind then I’ll turn to stone, to be covered in snow until all I am is a pebble under the cold river, forever, washed up, washed away.
Transformed light, then its gone and she’s there instead but I can still see the snow what kind of sick game is this she’s smiling at me like she smiled that day... reaching out her hand, palm white like the snow, turn and run away but before I can my hand grasps hers and then I know. She lifts me up, the snow is falling but I can’t feel it, a different warmth, holy sacred warmth never leave me again I want to tell her not to go but I don’t have to because she’s still smiling and she’s already answered. Never to be alone again, to be afraid, my prince, my princess. My setting sun, my rising star, my savior, my salvation. Hold me close, now I can laugh and we will dance forever.
And the princess and her prince raised into the sky and danced between the stars.
Notes:
If you have any comments/criticism/praise/other for my story, please email me at:
I know that Anthy’s death was rather abrupt, and I apologize if it was confusing. This story is full of questions that you can answer for yourself. Some major ones that may cause controversy-
Ÿ
Himemiya Anthy did not die at the end. She is eternal, she merely killed her living breathing body form and “found her eternity elsewhere”, if you will.Ÿ
Yes, of course, her “prince” and the use of “she” throughout the story are references to Utena. I did not feel that it was necessary to include her name, as that it may have taken from the story to state the obvious.
This is the second fanfic I have ever written, and the first one that is solely about S.K.U., so be gentle with your comments, please. (my virgin ears! my virgin ears!) Himemiya is my favorite character, and I admire her bravery through her incredibly hard hardships. (does that make sense?) I was hoping to create a story in which one can understand her feelings, or at least, her feelings as I perceive them, since I know that many people do not have such *kind* feelings towards her.
Thank you for taking time to read this piece. I hope there will be more to come!
-Carrie