Present Tense

by Sean Gaffney

Shoujo Kakumei Utena (C) 2003 Be-Papas. This fanfic contains spoilers 
for the entire series.  This fanfic is the fourth in a connected series, after 
Release, Deep, and In Hiding, and should be read after those.  This part also 
contains some mild f/f sex.  I'd rate it a soft 'R'.


Shiori sat on the balcony in Nice and stirred her tea.  She'd been stirring it 
now for about 15 minutes, and still had shown no signs of finishing.  Instead 
she continued to stare out the window that looked out onto the streets, hoping 
she'd spot Juri walking up to the door of the hotel.  She'd left word of her 
itinerary now with every stop on the trip in France, in a sort of desperate 
optimism that was cheaper than the room-trashing she'd done the morning after 
Juri had left.

How in gods name had Juri ever lived like this from day to day?  Lived with 
this tormented feeling in her heart, a love that poisoned the soul and sapped 
the strength?  Once again Shiori stood in awe at her friend's strength of 
will, to simply carry on and act as though nothing had happened.  Even three 
weeks later, Shiori was still a wreck.  She cried herself to sleep every 
night, and tossed and turned till the sun rose.

She'd told herself that this was her punishment for all the years she'd hurt 
Juri, but that wasn't really helping.  Knowing she deserved it only made the 
pain even harder to bear.

She sighed, and rubbed her temples.  She remembered feeling like this before.  
This desperate yet hopeful despair.  Only she couldn't remember the details.  
The block on her memory remained as resolute as ever, providing the sense that 
something was missing but no actual definition.  Perhaps that was the reason 
she didn't remember it anymore.  Perhaps the suffering had grown too much, and 
she'd blocked it out.

Would she forget this as well?  Never remember the growing feelings towards 
her friend, the realization of just how close she wanted to be?  She hadn't 
even had time to come to terms with it before Juri had left, leaving those 
feelings flailing about, with nothing to grasp.  Now they were all mixed up 
with far more familair feelings.  Resentment, and jealousy, and self-loathing.

She stopped stirring her tea, and took a sip.  It was now ice-cold, of course.  
She sighed, and looked out the window again.  She pictured Juri, walking up to 
the door and then stopping, turning back.  Dithering with herself.  Then 
Shiori shook her head and looked again.  She wasn't picturing it.  It was 
Juri.  Standing outside the hotel, looking as if she'd rather be doing 
anything else.

Shiori leaned over the balcony and called out.  Juri started and looked up at 
her, then turned a deep red.  Well, that was a promising start.  She was 
blushing, and not turning pale.  Shiori felt her heart starting to beat 
faster.  She should be furious.  Livid, in fact.  Yet she was nearly beside 
herself with joy that Juri had actually returned.  She waved her hand, and 
motioned Juri up to the room.  Outside, Juri ducked her head, then nodded and 
came inside.

Shiori now sat frozen at the table, feeling that if she moved it would somehow 
damage the illusion, that Juri wouldn't be coming back after all.  Then the 
door opened, and she felt her body relax.  She moved back into the room.

It had only been three weeks, but Juri somehow looked different.  Her eyes 
were clearer.  Shiori felt herself start to panic.  She looked that way 
because she'd left.  She must have realized she's made the right decision, and 
was coming here to break it off with Shiori properly.  Her heart ached to 
think of it.  But she didn't let any of it reach her face, she just nodded 
placidly as Juri sat down on the bed.  If there was one thing Shiori had 
learned from her best friend, it was how to wear a mask.  She never used to, 
she always hated them.  Now they were her crutch.

Juri's eyes looked straight into Shiori, as if she could see right through 
that mask.  "When I left Paris," she began, "I was determined that I would 
come back here and tell you exactly how I felt, and why I did what I did.  And 
as the journey went on, I went through everything I could say.  And it was all 
futile."  Her eyes still bored into Shiori, who sat enrapt.  She wanted to 
scream and cry at Juri, but perhaps she'd used up all that rage earlier.  Or 
perhaps Juri just had her hypnotized.

"I could apologize, but it would just sound pathetic.  Explanations?  They 
sound meaningless to me, and I'm the one who left.  Begging?  You're better 
than that.  I don't want this to turn into what it did with Ruka..." she 
paused, and Shiori thought she looked guilty.  Juri then raised her eyes.  
"Shiori, what can I do?  Please tell me what I can do..."

Shiori stared at her friend, aghast.  "Juri, please, no..."

Juri reached out and touched Shiori's arm.  "Is it too late, Shiori?  Do you 
hate me?  Isn't there anything I can do?"  The mask was cracking; she looked 
desperate.  Shiori felt a wave of disgust.  This wasn't her Juri.  This wasn't 
the tall, proud warrior of Ohtori Academy.  This was the Juri she'd only 
imagined in her darkest moments, in a fantasy where Shiori was the popular 
one, the one who had the skills and the intelligence.  This was a Juri cowed 
and unsure.

She could do anything to her, Shiori realized.  The power she'd always wanted 
to wield over Juri, the power she'd tried and failed piteously to use when she 
'stole' Juri's boyfriend.  She could tell Juri to return.  To do whatever she 
desired.  To make love to her.  Anything.  Everything she'd ever wanted, and 
Juri was willing.

Suddenly Juri emitted a gasp and rushed over to her.  "Shiori, stop!"

Shiori blinked, then suddenly felt a rush of pain.  She had bitten her lip, so 
hard it drew blood.  She reached up and touched it in disbelief.

Juri ran off to the bathroom and quickly returned with a washcloth.  "Stand 
still, I'll take care of you."  Juri was dabbing at Shiori's mouth.  Shiori 
saw her hands were trembling slightly.  Juri wasn't in control.  What had 
happened to her while she was gone?  What made her like this?

Shiori sat down on the bed, panic bubbling under her skin once more.  She had 
to play this right.  Anything she did now could be misunderstood by Juri... 
and vice versa.  After the bleeding had stopped, she turned to Juri, who was 
looking at her with a worried gaze.

Taking a deep breath, she began to speak... and then stopped.  The past few 
minutes rewound in her head.  "What did you say about Ruka?  What... what does 
he have to do with anything?"

Juri paled, and Shiori knew why her attitude had suddenly changed.  "You 
remember.  You remember that year."  Shiori reached out and gripped Juri's 
shoulders.  "Show me, please.  I have to know, I have to remember what I did 
then.  I don't care if it's horrible.  How can we talk to each other anymore 
if you know and I don't?  How did you remember, Juri?  Please."

"I don't know if I can.  I don't know... I don't think I can do it by myself."  
And then Juri froze, and she did turn pale.  Shiori put an arm around her, and 
for once Juri didn't pull away, but her entire back was one big ball of 
tension.  "But I think something might help."

She rose then, moving towards the bag she'd brought with her.  She'd left the 
rest of her luggage at the hotel in Bremen, and Shiori had of course taken it 
all with her.  She reached into a side pocket, and pulled out...

Shiori gasped, and Juri turned, guilt written across her features.  Holding a 
locket in her hand.  *The* locket.

And then she walked back over to the bed, and sat by Shiori, her hands 
clenching and unclenching methodically.

"You know that I love you.  For so long now that it almost feels like there 
was never a time that I didn't.  That's why I'm doing this, even though I know 
it will hurt you.  Because you're right, you need to remember as well, or we 
can't even talk to each other anymore."

And then she opened the locket, and held it up to Shiori.

And someone else's picture was inside.

And suddenly Shiori saw stars flash behind her eyes, and her brain shut down.  
The last thing she was conscious of was Juri's strong arms holding her as she 
fainted.

*****

When Shiori awoke, she didn't move for a bit.  Juri was probably watching her 
like a hawk, and she absolutely needed time to take everything in.  Because 
there were her memories, her lost year right there in full technicolor.  And 
just when she had started to get beyond the pit of self-loathing she had 
fallen into in school, here was more evidence of her behavior to inspire 
hatred.

Returning to Ohtori, and Juri's cold treatment of her.  Going to Nemuro Hall, 
confessing to the elevator, and suddenly realizing how simple everything could 
be.  The look of agonized pain in Juri's eyes as she'd ripped a sword from her 
chest.  The duel, and her defeat at the hands of Tenjou Utena, the only person 
at Ohtori who had seemed to feel sympathy with her.  And then forgetting it 
ever happened.  The first memory loss.

And then Ruka.  Oh god, she wanted to curl up into a ball and whimper, but she 
didn't dare move.  She was such an idiot.  She'd lost her virginity to him, in 
the back of a mysterious red car, and then he'd dumped her almost immediately.  
She didn't have any proof, but suspected he only dated her to get to Juri.

It was almost too much to take in at once.  She sighed and stirred in the bed, 
knowing she couldn't simply lie there until she died, although it was 
tempting.

She sat up, and saw Juri sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her with a 
mixture of concern and trepidation.  Her hands kept moving back and forth 
along the bedspread, as if she wanted to take Shiori's hand but wasn't sure 
she was allowed to.

She looked, in Shiori's opinion, utterly adorable.  It wasn't a word she would 
ever have associated with Juri, but it certainly fit her now.

Shiori's eyes widened, as she realized something.  She still loved Juri.  
Memories or no memories, that hadn't changed, and likely wouldn't, no matter 
how she felt about herself.  Whether Juri was noble and passionate, taking on 
all comers at the fencing arena, or whether she was shy and afraid, dealing 
with her repressed passions.  Juri was Juri, and it was who she loved.  And no 
amount of memory manipulation would change that.

Still, probably a bad idea to just jump her right there.  Instead Shiori 
reached out and took her hand.  "So that's what you remember."