Notes and Disclaimers: The characters in this story are the sole property of Be-Pappas, its employees, creative team and agents. Nonetheless, I have dared to use them.
This story was the result of a discussion on the Fanfic Revolution mailing list, and strongly inspired by Alan Harnum’s Beneath the Skin. This is an excellent story, I strongly recommend it to you. Be very, very glad that Alan is writing again. For one thing, he owes me some pirate porn. But it was really written for/motivated by a comment by Chris Davies, because he’s so funny when he’s being outraged. And despite his and Sean’s comments…it was not written out of spite – I can’t do that. I was just obsessed by the idea and a story came out overnight.
I suppose I ought to warn you about this story – there’s no explicit sex, but the implied stuff is really pretty icky. It is, however, completely straight icky sex, which makes it one of about a dozen straight stories that I’ve written. LOL And anyway, it’s Utena, so you already know what kind of stuff goes on or you wouldn’t be reading this.
If you’d like to talk about this, or any of my other stories, please email me firstname.lastname@example.org. I’ll do my damndest to at least get back to you and thank you for your comments (provided they aren’t laughable and/or vulgar…and perhaps if they are.)
WSF also supports the Fanfic Revolution, because fanfic really, truly, doesn’t have to suck.
The Power To….
Miki could hear the quiet slither of sheets and the movement of her body as she left the bed. He didn’t move, not wanting to disturb her, not wanting her to know he was awake. He opened his eyes just enough to see her dark silhouette against the pale draperies of the window.
She was naked. In the night, when she slipped from her bed, she would always be naked – as if she wanted to bathe in the moonlight. He wouldn’t think about her nakedness, no more than he thought about why they maintained separate beds. Or why she insisted that he join her in her bed when they made love. There were a lot of things he refused to think about, these days.
He found himself fascinated, as always, by her body. The set of her shoulders, the roundness in her hip – every line familiar, and yet essentially and eternally, alien. He wondered how much her figure resembled his own. His shoulders were only slightly wider, his hips only slightly slimmer. He knew well enough that she could pass for him if she so chose. Miki had never tried to pass as his sister. He refused to think about that, too.
“Kozue?” he asked, his voice sounding sleepier than he felt.
“Did I wake you?” Her voice was soft, but not terribly concerned. She clearly did not much care whether she had or not.
“No,” he lied. He was doing that a lot recently. Prevaricating, half answering, lying outright – but only to her. He wondered briefly which one of them he was protecting.
“I’m glad,” she said, half turning her head towards him. He could see her eyes glitter in the pale light.
He sat up, stripping away pretense as he pulled away the blanket. He could see the outline of her breasts against the window and felt himself stirring with excitement. He clamped an arm against his body, and set his teeth against the memory of their bodies moving together in the darkness, her wetness and warmth on him and around him.
Kozue turned around completely, unashamed of her nakedness, her eyes shadowed. She gave a slight laugh as she realized his condition. “Miki,” she said, slowly, enunciating each syllable in his name, as she did when she wanted something from him. “Miki,” she whispered, taking a step closer. “Is Tsuwabuki coming over today?”
It was not what he expected, but then, she so rarely did what he expected. His arousal lessened as he pulled his intellect together enough to answer. “Yes. Tomorrow is the day he officially takes over as Council Secretary. I have a few last notes to give him.” He paused, and stood, taking a step towards his sister. “Kozue?”
“Yes?” Her eyes were fixed on his. He knew this even though he could not see them.
“Do you like Tsuwabuki?”
Kozue’s laugh was not really cruel, Miki thought. Just irresponsible; whimsical, with a slight hint of risk to be taken.
“Like him?” she parroted, moving closer to Miki. “I,” her hand touched her brother’s jaw, “find him…intriguing. He interests me.”
Miki’s arousal had returned as soon as he felt her touch. His hands reached out to her and took her naked body into his arms. She laughed as she felt his hardness against her, and laughed again as his lips sought hers.
Kozue pulled his hands off her body and drew him towards her bed. As her face passed through a swath of light, he was stunned to see tears on her cheek. Then her hands were on him, and her lips, too and he refused to think about anything else.
Mitsuru pulled the new jacket tight across his back. He could feel the material move stiffly across the bare skin of his arms. The collar was tight, the cuffs and epaulets heavy, as if they bore with them the responsibility of his position.
The jacket was a few shades darker than the standard boy’s uniform; a teal dark enough to be noticeable. The gold of the buttons, the insignia on his collar and the braid that hung from his shoulder gleamed dully in the dim light of his dorm room. Mitsuru glanced over at his roommate, who snorted and rolled over, not awake enough to protest the noise, not asleep enough to be quiet.
He closed the buttons carefully, fumbling with the heavy stitching of the frogging, then regarded himself seriously. Did he look any different than before? Did he, in fact, look like a member of the Student Council? He pulled on new, crisply pressed, white pants and shiny black boots. He stood back and stared again at his reflection. He definitely looked taller, that was true. And perhaps he stood a bit straighter, if only so the jacket would sit correctly across his shoulders. And maybe, just maybe, he did look a little like a Student Council member.
Mitsuru thought that he was doing pretty well. Maybe not all eyes had been on him, as he walked to school, but certainly many had. And, he noticed, with both upright bearing and boots, he was at least as tall as the other boys in his class…and taller than a few. This was a new feeling – and one that made him stand even taller.
A few of the girls had greeted him brightly; he hoped he hadn’t imagined the note of new appraisal and approval in their voices as they said chirped “Good morning, Tsuwabuki-kun!”
The day passed, slowly and inexorably. Tsuwabuki hadn’t spilled anything on the new uniform, hadn’t tripped in the new shoes. And after gym class, as he had passed the current Vice President of the Council, he had received a gracious and friendly nod. Mitsuru felt very good about that. At least twenty other students had been there to see it – no one could doubt his new status now.
Nonetheless, Mitsuru was nervous. He drew white linen gloves over his fingers, partially to continue the picture of military neatness he hoped to project, but just as much to mask the clamminess in his palms. He gave his hair a quick shake and headed out across the campus towards the tower that beckoned like a finger.
“Come here, Mitsuru,” it sang to him. “Join us.”
And so, Tsuwabuki Mitsuru stepped out across the campus to join the Student Council of Ohtori Academy for the very first time.
She waited for him in the shadow of the Tower. It was cold there, even though the day was warm and the sun shone brightly a few meters away. Kozue wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the bumps on her skin, and waited.
His boots were loud on the paved path, for which she was thankful. It gave her time to pull herself together, to move out of full shadow, into the half darkness of the sun’s glare. She kept her face obscured, but posed her legs to good advantage.
The young blond looked quite dashing in his uniform. His purposeful strides were energetic and focused…and laughable. The look on his face spoke volumes. He was self-absorbed, prideful…and terrified.
Kozue laughed – a light, tinkling, flirtatious laugh. “How cavalier you look today, Mitsuru…kun.” She shifted slightly, letting her legs draw his attention.
“T…thank you…Kaoru-sempai?” His eyes squinted to make out her features. “What are you doing here?” He blushed and lowered his voice meaningfully. “I mean, can I help you with something?”
Kozue laughed again. “I’m here because I was waiting for you.” She arranged her features in a languid smile, with half-lidded bedroom eyes, and stepped out of the shadows. “And yes,” she said in low tones, “Yes, there’s something you can do for me.”
Mitsuru swallowed hard. His eyes flitted about, trying not to look down her partially unbuttoned blouse, trying not to notice her legs in the too-short skirt, not to notice the obvious come-hither in her eyes.
“You are absolutely gorgeous, you know….in that uniform.” Kozue’s voice was softer with every step she took towards him. “I love a man in uniform.” She slid her arms around the boy’s neck and craned her neck slightly, to look up into his eyes. He didn’t need to know that they were the same height.
“Kaoru-sempai…I…” Tsuwabuki put one arm forward, as if to remove himself from her embrace, but she shifted ever so slightly and his hand brushed her breast. Kozue closed her eyes for a split second and allowed a tiny sound to emerge from her lips. Tsuwabuki swallowed audibly this time and Kozue’s eyes opened. She pinned him with a hard look, one that demanded attention and worship…and service.
Kozue looked long into those eyes. There was fear – that was true – but beneath that, she could see the overweening self-love that she found so interesting. And beneath that, the kernel of something hateful, something terribly petty and mean, in those bright blue eyes. Kozue saw that thing and smiled at it, because it was that very thing she wanted to touch. Tsuwabuki, looking deeply into her eyes, laid his gloved hands upon her waist. And the mean, petty thing in his eyes smiled back at her with complete understanding.
As Kozue rubbed her legs along the stiff, white length of Mitsuru’s uniform pants, she thought for a second about the look in the boy’s eyes. He looked so frightfully young. But then, she thought, as she raised her lips to his – her mouth open, her eyes closed – he was older than she had been, her first time.
Miki glanced at his watch for the third time. “If he isn’t here in five minutes, we’ll begin without him.” He blew a breath out in frustration – he had had so much hope for the boy. But to be late to his first meeting – that was inexcusable.
Moments later, a panting Tsuwabuki practically fell from the elevator onto the Council’s veranda. His face was flushed and his uniform in complete disarray. Miki frowned with disapproval, but said nothing more than, “We’ll start, then.”
Tsuwabuki apologized hastily and took his place at the table. Pen in hand, he took notes of the meeting as Miki worked his way through old Council business. Half an hour later, Miki no longer worried about Tsuwabuki’s absence – the boy had been diligently inscribing the Council records. Miki nodded down at the blond, placing a hand upon his shoulder.
The Vice President – a severe young lady by the name of Mika – stood and began discussing her business for the day.
Miki smiled at Tsuwabuki, who smiled back, but had a slightly wild look in his eyes. A slight breeze fluttered about them. Miki leaned down to read one of Tsuwabuki’s notes, finger outstretched to make a comment. His nostrils widened; he could smell something…familiar, although what it was remained tantalizingly distant. Something he knew too well to recognize.
Tsuwabuki reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes when Miki saw it. A small mark, just below the left earlobe. A thin pale red oval of irritated skin. And he knew immediately what the smell was. Lingering on Tsuwabuki’s clothing, in his hair and on his hands – rosewater and sex.
Miki’s hand rose automatically to the same spot on his own neck, now hidden under the stiff collar of his uniform.
Mika ended her business quickly, efficiently. No business, the Treasurer announced. But Miki could no longer hear him, as he asked the new Secretary for an accounting of something from old minutes.
Miki blinked rapidly, and breathed deeply as the three Council members calmly discussed Council business. Agonizing moments passed in trivia, while his blood boiled.
“If that’s all the old business we have,” Miki’s voice sounded normal, even if the blood in his head pounded so hard he could hardly see, “I suppose we only have two last pieces of new business to handle. First, I think we should all welcome our newest member, incoming Secretary, Tsuwabuki Mitsuru.”
Tsuwabuki stood, pulling his jacket together at last, the red mark now rendered invisible by collar and hair. He intoned the formulaic words of thanks, and bowed deeply to Miki.
When he once again stood upright, Miki stepped forward, one hand outstretched, one hand clenched lightly by his side.
“There was a tradition, when I originally joined the Student Council,” Miki announced sharply. “We were also called ‘Duellists.’ One of our rituals was to fight duels with each other, and with qualified opponents. You may not remember those days,” Miki looked at the stricken faces of the Treasurer and Vice-President, “but I think that we should reinstate that ritual. It meant a lot to me.” His outstretched hand rose. “It made us strong.” The hand came down on Tsuwabuki’s cheek, hard enough to turn it an angry red. “Tsuwabuki Mitsuru – I challenge you to a duel.” Miki’s eyes burned in his pale face as he spoke.
Tsuwabuki’s head had snapped back from the force of the blow. Now he pulled himself together, once again straightening his new uniform jacket. He met Miki’s eyes and smiled, a tight, knowing smile.
“I accept,” he said.
Kozue leaned against the base of the Tower, letting the sun warm her. She had her eyes closed against the light, but she smiled broadly into the sun.
Whatever happens, she thought, whoever wins, tomorrow, I will be the prize. Tomorrow, I will become the Rose Bride.