Notes and Disclaimers: The characters in this story are the creation and property of Be-Papas. Chiho Saito and Ikuhara Kunihiko, and I mean no harm by using them for a bit.
This story has explicit-ish sexual content between two women – please stop reading immediately if you are underage legally in your area of residence, or this would offend you. Having been warned so bluntly, do not tell me it’s my fault that you read it. There are also spoilers if you are paying attention, so if you haven’t seen the whole series, and want to avoid knowing stuff, you might want to stop reading now. Also, if your eyes hurt, or your head is achy, or your back hurts – stop reading and go take a break, OK?
This story is Alan Harnum’s fault, because he mentioned that he would read an Utena lemon and I said I never write them. So of course I came up with an idea almost instantly. But he made amends by coming up with the title, for which I am grateful. And thanks to Adam, Pendant to the Queen. And upon rereading this, it occurs to me that I’m getting old and mushy in my old age.
If you enjoy this, please let me know at firstname.lastname@example.org
It wasn’t supposed to have happened. It might not have happened. But even as a dream, as a reflection of the faintest desire, it should never have been. Not even as a false hope.
She had returned that night, later than usual…the grey light of pre-dawn just on the cusp of the morning, before color reasserted itself. She spent a moment without her glasses, allowing the acid-washed shades of the morning to fix themselves in her mind. The cool, wet, dawn wind spilled over the empty streets and the smell of salt filled her nostrils. She turned away from the school, looking over the endless sea and thought hard, as she always did, about plunging headlong from the cliffs into its black depths. She wondered what the outcome would be – death, transformation, or life. No one, not even her brother, could claim to know the result of that throw of the dice.
Her brother. The wind chilled her now, and her steps turned once again towards home. She could smell him on her skin; feel his beautiful hair, his strong grip…she put her glasses back on and stepped through the dormitory gate.
Their room was dark. She could see no sign of movement or light in the window, but she felt alert, as if something was awaiting her there. Enter the dorm, shut the door quietly. Stairs, skip the one that squeaks automatically so one doesn’t wake Utena. The room they share. The door. Her hand on the handle, turning, pushing….
“Anshi?” Utena’s sleepy voice from the darkness of the room. She could just make out the shape sitting in the top bunk.
“I’m home.” Anshi kept her voice soft and pleasant, as one speaks to a child awakened from a nightmare.
There was no answer and Anshi thought that perhaps Utena slept once again. But no, her breathing was audible, ragged, shallow.
“Utena-sama?” Anshi allowed worry to fill her voice. This wasn’t like Utena at all. “Are you alright?”
“Anshi, I…” a breath, almost a sob. “No, no. I’m fine. It was just a dream, a nightmare, I guess.”
Anshi walked over to the beds and stood looking up at Utena’s hunched figure. She held out a hand. “Tell me about it.”
Utena stretched out her own hand to take Anshi’s, but at the briefest touch pulled away sharply with a gasp. “No!” She tried to slow her breathing, the harsh breaths that came now, forced, as if she could not breath the rarefied air in the room. “No…I don’t think talking about it would help.”
Anshi placed a hand on Utena’s leg, and the girl did not flinch. Softly Anshi stroked her thigh, soothingly, and she spoke lightly. “Let me make you some tea…in the morning it will just have been a dream.” She could see Utena’s eyes now, as she grew accustomed to the gloom. There was an unpleasant light in them, as if Utena watched her fearfully.
Utena’s hand, moving slowly, covered Anshi’s pressing it to her leg. Anshi could feel the muscles tense under Utena’s pajama leg. Utena lifted Anshi’s hand, and held it to her cheek.
“You’re real.” Utena’s voice came to her softly, as a sigh. “You’re real, right? Not another dream?”
Anshi wasn’t sure how to answer that. She paused, then said, “I’m here.” And heard Utena sigh again. She could feel warm breath move across her fingers, then the warm softness of lips. Anshi held herself still and calm, although the sensation made her want to cry out.
Utena lowered Anshi’s hand, now clasped between her own, and held it pressed to her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m acting strangely. I was just a dream…but it was so real.” Anshi watched as Utena reached up to brush away a tear from her cheek. “You were dead, laid out in a coffin, but when I went to say good bye you sat up and grabbed for me. You…your body was covered in horrible wounds and blood, and you reached out for me. But as you touched me, you faded away.”
Anshi started and pulled her hand away with a jerk. This wasn’t right. Utena could *not* have seen that.
Utena seemed not to have noticed that she was no longer holding Anshi’s hand. Her body slumped, she held both hands clasped to her chest. Anshi found herself breathing hard and spent a moment taking deep breaths, calming herself. She opened her mouth to speak, but Utena moved first.
Sliding down from the upper bunk, she landed lightly on the floor facing Anshi. Slowly, as if afraid that the other girl would disappear, as she had in the vision, Utena reached out and held Anshi by the shoulders. “You are real, aren’t you Anshi? I’m just being foolish, right? I know… I know it was just a dream.” And she laughed a little; a forced laugh that was nonetheless comforting. But her eyes held an unspoken plea.
Anshi looked up into Utena’s eyes, and seeing the madness, the prescience fading from them, allowed herself a small lie. “I’m real, Utena-sama.” And she could see the fear vanish. It was that simple. One more small lie among a host of lies. And when she leaned forward to place a light kiss on Utena’s cheek it was no more a lie than her words had been. But as Utena turned her face to return the kiss, Anshi could hear the beating of their hearts, and she wondered to whom it was that she was lying this time.
Their lips met and Utena’s hands tightened on her shoulders. Anshi, tired, perhaps too tired to think, still remembering his touch on her skin, his taste and smell reacted, more strongly than she might have…. Another time she might have ended this, persuaded Utena to return to bed with comforting words…iInstead, she lifted her head to Utena, parting her lips slightly.
Anshi couldn’t know what went through Utena’s mind at the moment, but she could guess. The overwhelming desire to confirm Anshi’s reality, her wholeness; to make sure Anshi would not fade from her grasp. Pulling Anshi close to her, Utena buried her face in Anshi’s neck, not quite kissing it, just tasting, feeling. Anshi felt her already weakened guard crumbling. A small noise, like a whimper, escaped from her lips as her resolve fled. Her hands rose, burying themselves in Utena’s hair, while in her mind, the last portion of her will cried out inside her head.
Utena pulled away sharply, inhaling through her teeth in a hiss. Looking down at Anshi, she couldn’t help feeling the delicate frame pressed up warmly against her own. One hand moved up from the shoulder it clung to, and encircled the smooth dark neck. Their lips met, and all rational thought, spurred on by fear and desire, swiftly departed, leaving only the timeless communion of the body.
Utena captured Anshi’s lips, this time kissing her hard. When Anshi’s tongue played gently at the corners of her mouth, Utena opened her mouth to meet it. Her hands seemed to have developed a will of their own, as if tracing every inch of Anshi’s skin would redefine her, make her more real. Anshi gasped as Utena’s hands found already sensitive nipples, and again, as Utena knelt, stroking her legs, brushed lightly between them, filling in skin and hair and wetness in her recreation of Anshi.
Kneeling in front of Utena, Anshi untied the bow on her blouse, then removed the garment completely. Utena, not content to merely sculpt Anshi by hand, needed also to craft her Galatea with the touch of lips and teeth and tongue. When Anshi was naked, Utena laid her out on the floor, and taking one hand in her own, began to sketch her newest version of Anshi. Minutely, she kissed Anshi’s arm, finding each muscle, each bone and placing it in her blueprint. When she reached Anshi’s shoulder, the vanguard of her hand reached out to shape one breast, then the other. Lips finished this fabrication, and left Anshi breathless. No longer able to be a mere statue, Anshi found herself asking her creator to finish her, to bring her life. But Utena would not rush such a demanding work.
A second wave of soft breath, finalizing the shape of Anshi’s eyes, her ears, her mouth, then the sweet moment when her tongue was given life. Hands now crudely forming ribs, descending to a slim waist, and rising up to fill in the spine. Anshi arched herself up under Utena’s hands, her back and shoulders real now as they had never been before.
Utena had moved down, leaving soft belly for last, and was now sculpting Anshi’s feet. Slowly, deliberately, she carved each toe, the delicate work of the instep and ankle, each stage finished with kisses. Anshi could feel her legs worked from mere clay into limbs of flesh and sinew, which might one day hold her upright. Each muscle and tendon lovingly placed, Utena continued to work up Anshi’s thighs, until only one thing remained. Anshi could feel Utena’s hands kneading the contours of her legs, her buttocks, her stomach and hips. And when, for the second time Utena lightly brushed in the detail of pubis, Anshi shook in anticipation. Utena’s breath was tantalizing – the very breath of life that Anshi now needed. When Utena at last granted her that life, she cried with the noise of a newborn child, hopelessly alive and forever lost until death should once again enfold her with soft warmth.
Anshi lay on the floor shaking for the longest time, shivering first with ecstasy, then with emotion, and at last with mundane cold. Utena, her head pillowed on Anshi’s belly, lay in a trance. Her eyes were half open; she regarded her creation with wonder, idly tracing the very angles and curves that she had placed there..
All at once Utena stood then, bending down, lifted Anshi from her pedestal and set her up on legs now made flesh. Anshi thanked her and again for the nightclothes she was handed. Now dressed, Anshi was at a loss as to what to say to Utena. But Utena was not there. She had returned to her bunk, and was already sleeping a deep, dreamless sleep. As the pinks and oranges of a new day crept through their window into the room, Anshi slept also.
She awoke to a profound sensation of disorientation. Muffled bumps in another room told her that Utena was dressed and making breakfast. She moved slowly, feeling her new, unfamiliar limbs and found that they would work. She bathed and dressed and came out to the dining room, just as Utena entered with a tray.
“Himemiya! Good morning!” Utena’s voice rang with her usual cheerfulness, her eyes were clear of fear and worry, and Anshi began to doubt what she remembered of the night before. Her nerves, strained by the tensions of love and hate, felt near to snapping.
“Good morning, Utena-sama.” She stepped forward to take the tray, but Utena gestured her to a seat. While they ate, Utena chatted away about a project for science class and Anshi responded acceptably, if with no particular inspiration. Silence, when it fell seemed normal, but Anshi felt herself straining to sense any wrongness in Utena’s mien.
“Hey, Himemiya.” Utena looked up over her teacup. “How did you sleep last night? I didn’t wake you, did I? I think I had some bad dreams.”
Anshi composed her features as she sipped, and smiled benignly. “I came in rather late, so I slept well. No, you didn’t wake me up.”
Utena’s face screwed up almost comically. “I know I had some strange dreams, but I can’t remember any of them. Hey, Himemiya…” she looked at Anshi and her eyes had an odd light to them, which faded quickly. Utena laughed and shook her head.” Forget it – it’s probably best I don’t try and remember the dreams. Forget it.” And whistling artlessly, Utena whisked their dirty dishes off the table and into the kitchen.
Watching her leave, Anshi could not get the feel of Utena’s hands on her body from her mind. It should never have happened. It did not happen. It was just a dream.
She wished that she too had the power to forget dreams. It would have been so much easier all the way around.