[KnM][RGU][MH] Revolutions - Prologue
A Kannazuki no Miko, Revolutionary Girl Utena and Mai Hime X-Over Fanfic
December 3, 2012 – January 4, 2013
Word Count: Approx 3,900
NOTES: The characters from Kannazuki no Miko (KnM), Revolutionary Girl Utena (RGU), and Mai Hime (MH) that appear in this fanfic do not belong to the author and are being used without permission from their owners, who include TNK for KnM, J.C. Staff for RGU, and Bandai for MH.
I waffled quite a bit as to where to put this fic. I really really really didn't want to put it under crossover, even though that is where it probably should belong. Since the majority of the characters are from Mai Hime, and the setting is Fuuka, ultimately, I thought the MH board was a more appropriate place than the KnM board. I'm trying to write this story as an ensemble cast, and while Chikane will probably end up with the most screen time, the Hime cast (mostly Natsuki, Shizuru and Mai) in combination should have even more while the RGU characters play key supporting roles.
The main story takes place a few weeks after Mai Hime, about 15-16 years after the end of RGU, and about 15-16 years after the end of KnM.
More Author's notes follow at the end. Comments and Criticisms are greatly appreciated!
*MANY AGES AGO*
In the beginning, there were people - just regular people, doing regular things, and sometimes, not-so-regular things. The people would help each other, would hurt each other, and would exhibit the entire spectrum of human behavior.
It was from the people that the essence of The Prince was fashioned. Every time someone helped somebody else, every time someone rescued another, was nice to another, the essence of The Prince was there. Over time, this essence got stronger and stronger, until eventually there became an incarnation of this essence - a personification, a manifestation. That was when The Prince was born.
Of course, people were not always good to one another. Sometimes they would hurt each other. Sometimes they would be hurt. They would drown in jealousy, in loneliness, in despair. The essence of The Witch and The Eight Headed Demon of Despair were born from the people too, and some would argue they were born much, much earlier than The Prince.
There were a myriad of essences, each that spawned their own incarnation - some godly, some demonic, and everything in between. And as the people would interact with each other, so too, did the embodiments. They existed everywhere people did, and once in a while, their very forms were summoned to walk among the people.
During a dark period in humanity, the essence of despair was so strong that the Eight Headed Demon itself was called to earth. Orochi, as the people called him, ravaged the planet, hell bent on destroying anything and everything in his path. When two women - the Sun and Moon Miko, summoned a god to defeat and seal it, The Prince was with them not only in spiritual essence, for they exuded him in their will and courage, but in body as well, in the form of Ame no Murakumo, God of Swords. It was a terrific battle, and The Prince sealed the Eight Headed Demon.
Unfortunately, what The Prince failed to do was to sever the Eight Headed Demon from the essence that fueled it. So long as despair was felt by the people, the Eight Headed Demon could never be destroyed. Laughingly, the Demon told The Prince, even as he lay bleeding in his shackles and wards, that one day, when enough feelings of despair had accumulated, he would have the strength needed to break free again.
The Prince felt a deep trouble at this declaration, for he knew it was true. Even the two miko who had shown such strong echoes of his own essence that he had been able to manifest a physical form to aid them with, were susceptible to fueling the Demon they had fought so hard to seal. Tragically, to defeat Orochi, and to undo all his horrors, the gods had to be sufficiently moved in order to exercise their great power together. A sacrifice was required. One miko died by the hand of the other, and the surviving one's grief and guilt was overwhelming.
So moved were the gods by the actions of the Sun and Moon Miko, these mere mortals so small in the universe and the grand scheme of things, that they undid Orochi's horrors and even granted humanity a mechanism through which to shape their world as they saw fit. That was the beginning of the Festival of the Hime Star.
This experience left The Prince saddened however, and it may have been because of this that led to his ultimate downfall, for he resolved to do the best he could, and help, and save, and inspire as many as he could. He began to show his physical form more and more often, saving hundreds, helping thousands, asking nothing in return, for he did not want a repeat of the tragedy of the Sun and Moon Miko. His strength ultimately began to wane, for the power that fueled him, the essence of helpfulness, of courage, and kindness, began to be channeled by less and less people. Who needed to have the essence of a prince, when there was an actual prince around?
He grew weak, and ashen, and started wasting away. He was dying.
And so it was that The Witch made a decision with enormous ramifications, as she watched the Prince grow weaker and weaker. She loved him, but could never be with him, for it was her power, her essence, to remain unfulfilled and alone. The Witch did to The Prince, what The Prince could not do to the Eight Headed Demon. She severed the incarnation from the essence, cutting off The Prince from the power that fueled him.
Alas, in the absence of the Prince, other forces were able to expand their influence. The Obsidian Lord, fed by humanity's greed and lust for power, soon saw the opportunity to abuse the Festival of the Hime Star, and began to manipulate the mechanics of the Festival for himself with the help of lessor servants.
*SIXTEEN YEARS AGO*
Homura Nagi frowned.
Something had changed – something big and something small at the same time. The butterfly perched on his finger didn't even flutter its wings, but to beings such as he, it was as though a long frozen tornado had suddenly ripped the roof of its cage, and then, just as suddenly, disappeared.
It was the slight squeaking of wheels that finally startled the butterfly from his finger, and he looked over at Kazahana Mashiro, who was just arriving to the library of Fuuka Academy, quietly being pushed in her wheelchair by the discreet youngster she had taken under her wing – Himeno Fumi. The expression on Mashiro's face was impassive as always, but the trouble in her eyes told Nagi that she must have felt what he had felt too.
With no further greeting, he simply asked her, "hey! What just happened?"
Fumi, for one, looked confused, unable to grasp what Nagi could be referring to. To her, it was as quiet and calm in the early morning library as it ever was. She looked down at her mistress for an explanation.
"Shh," was Mashiro's reply, as she narrowed her eyes in concentration, trying to feel out and decipher the remaining tendrils of energy for a clue about what could have changed so irrevocably in the universe.
Everything was still in the library that knew to be, and Fumi, sensing the mood of her mistress, also remained as still as possible, unconsciously holding her breath.
In the resulting silence, both Mashiro and Nagi could hear it, the barely there, but unmistakeable, inescapable wispy giggle of shadows:
'Did you hear? Did you hear? Have you heard the news? The revolution has come and gone, and there is a new Prince to amuse!'
'Or possibly,' to confuse'?'
'Ara, I don't think she gets to choose!'
And then the whispers devolved into laugher that soon disappeared altogether. Mashiro frowned as she regarded Nagi, whose eyebrow was cocked with intrigue. Fumi released the breath she'd been holding.
"Unbelievable!" Nagi snorted derisively. "A new Prince after all this time? Hah! I didn't think humanity could birth another! Oh, my Lord will get a laugh out of this!"
Mashiro's frown intensified in the white haired boy's direction. "Don't think so lightly of humanity, Nagi."
"Oh? Are you so confident that your girl," Nagi flicked his eyes up at Fumi, who looked back at him blankly, "will have a chance against my lord this time?"
"If not Fumi-san, then one of the others." Mashiro shot back coldly. "This time, Onii-sama will not have his way."
"Oowaa," Nagi wiggled his fingers mockingly. "Mashiro-chan is scary when she's determined! Well, who knows, maybe you will win this time around. There's still a few months before Orochi's scheduled defeat kicks off the Hime Festival, so we still have a little more time to hedge some bets before things really get crazy, don't we?" He laughed a little, entertaining himself with a spin around. "Anyway, can I have my book back now please? You've borrowed it for quite a while already."
The pale haired Child's hard look at the boy grew somehow colder for a moment, before she looked up at Fumi, her gaze softening, and gave the girl the barest of nods. Silently, the girl maid went into the satchel she wore to bring out a solo leather bound volume, handing it to Nagi.
"Thank you, Fumi-chan!" Nagi said, winking at her. "Hey, don't be upset that Mashiro-chan doesn't believe in you. You can come over to my Lord's side anytime, okay? Just bring those cookies you know I like!" With that, he pranced off, tossing the book up and down in the air as he sauntered before disappearing entirely.
Mashiro and Fumi stood silently in the now abandoned library for a moment before Mashiro sagged a little in her chair. She looked up at her maid, a regretful expression on her features. "I'm sorry, Fumi-san. That was rude of me."
But Fumi only smiled down serenely at her mistress. "It's okay, Mashiro-sama. Fumi knows she isn't smart. But whatever she can help you with, she will."
Her maid's devotion finally managed to coax the trouble from her face. Mashiro smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Fumi-san. Let's go back now. I need to think about what this could mean. Were you able to hear the shadows?"
Fumi shook her head.
Mashiro considered this for a moment. "Hmm… perhaps it is better that you could not. Their riddles tend to provoke and unsettle rather than to guide. I need to think about the implications some more."
In the end, however, simply thinking was not enough to shed adequate light on the situation, and Mashiro needed more active investigation.
The place most likely to hold the answers, a school so different and yet so similar to her own, was closed to her. Whatever had happened, had happened of course at that school, but she dared not enter there. None of her kind was welcome within its stylized, rose-themed, ivory gates, and though she could sense that the power which had always warned her away from the place had diminished, the echoes and smoke of so many years of dark desire and manipulation still haunted the school. Foreboding and malice still dwelled at Ohtori Academy, for all that its students and staff were ignorant of it.
She was reduced to waiting for wisps of shadowy gossip on the wind, though the shadow girls did not visit often, and when they did, their messages were obscured with incomprehensible metaphors and laughter, even to her.
As the days fell off the calendar, and the godless month approached, Mashiro watched Oogami Shrine like a hawk. She had just cause for worry.
300 years had passed since the last cycle, and the shrine had lost all its influence on humanity's leaders, as well as many of its own records and safe-keepings. It was a miracle that the few remaining priests of the shrine remembered the importance of their mission at all, another miracle still that they were able to find and provide a little bit of guidance to the reborn Sun and Moon Miko.
It was at Oogami Shrine that irrevocable proof of the Prince's second coming was finally revealed to Mashiro. She watched in fascination as one of the very necks of Orochi himself found the hope and strength to rise up against his master, siding with the Sun and Moon Miko. This should never have been possible, Mashiro knew. That the boy was able to do so was mind boggling. It could only mean that the Prince had indeed returned, that bastion of what was good and noble about humanity.
In her amazement, Mashiro was overjoyed. Could it be that the cycle would finally be broken? Could the Obsidian Lord be thwarted before the Hime Star even re-appeared? Might she win, without needing to execute her plans, without needing to play the game?
But her hopes were dashed as the cycle was not broken. She watched in horror and bitterness as the Miko of the Moon eschewed the chance to break free; making the choice to continue the cycle. Orochi was merely sealed once again, when he could have been destroyed, and with his sealing, the Festival of the Hime Star began.
Mashiro could feel her brother awaken in the world.
She lamented what could have been only for a moment. The game was afoot; she had to finish her own preparations.
She had to find the Hime before her brother could.
Caught up as she was in her own searches, Mashiro almost missed the significance of one little girl being born into the world, one little girl who was not a Hime, but a princess in her own right.
She was reborn as a healthy, baby girl with her memories as Himemiya Chikane fully intact, a phenomenon that proved first a curse and then a blessing to the orphaned, unwed, teenaged mother she was born to. The trauma she suffered from being trapped in a physical and emotional form as weak and powerless as a newborn even while her mind retained the facilities and intellect of the adolescent she used to be, caused her to fuss and cry almost non-stop for the first several days of her new life; she was a colic baby.
She had expected to be imprisoned, had planned for it, really. For her brutality against her most beloved Himeko, she had resigned to die and for her soul to be locked in an eternity of imprisonment inside the Lunar Shrine, outside of time and the mortal coil.
Indeed, for the first few days of her new life, she thought that this was indeed what had actually happened to her. Unable to speak, her body unresponsive, drifting between sleep and wakefulness and unable to differentiate between the two, she had only her thoughts and memories to accompany her. Nightmares and dreams, longing and loneliness, Himeko's tearful goodbye as they parted, Himeko's horrified screaming as she was ravaged, the turmoil and trauma of it rolled into an unending miasma of suffocation.
That she would spend the rest of eternity in this hell was too much. She cried out. She cried and she cried, unable to comprehend time as she did so.
It was her mother's miserable tears dropping on her face that finally lead her out of the darkness, that cut through the nightmares, and helped Chikane to finally stop crying and open her new eyes for the first time. She almost went into shock when she realized that she was not, in fact, in hell. It took her a while, but eventually, with dubiousness, the epiphany finally dawned on her as to what could only have happened:
She was reborn.
She was part of the living world
She was part of *Himeko's* living world.
And the joy of that epiphany prompted her out of her ruminations with a laugh at the absurdity of it all. It was her first laugh, just a gurgle, really, but an occasion to which her mother was able to bear witness.
After the stress of dealing with a baby who was first colic and then (seemingly) catatonic, the simple sound brought tears of relief and joy to the teenager's eyes and those tears rolled unashamedly down her cheeks as she hugged her daughter close.
By luck or perhaps divine mockery, she was reborn still a Himemiya (though not related to her past life clan, as far as she could tell). She did not much care for the first name her mother gave her, so when she relearned how to speak a few months later, she told her mother that she wanted to be called Chikane. She spoke and was intelligible far sooner than when most babes began to babble. Most parents would have marvelled or perhaps freaked out. Her mother was surprised, but hadn't known just how out of the ordinary this really was, young as she was and with no family or friends to tell her otherwise.
Chikane's mother absolutely adored her, and raised her as best she could with what little that she had. They lived in a tiny one room apartment sharing the same futon for many years. Her under-aged mother had to complete mandatory education during the day, finishing the last two years of middle school while Chikane was in day care. To pay for the day care, her mother took on less-than-fully-legal janitorial work in the nights and evenings with companies who were willing to look the other way when she showed up to work with a sleeping baby strapped to her back.
The young mother's iron will, determination and tenacity to do right by her daughter won said daughter's love and respect, even overtop of the natural bond between parent and child, and Chikane resolved to do what she could to ease the burden she knew she must be to her mother. She cried very little. She ate without fuss. She slept through the night when she could though sometimes the nightmares were too much. It was a challenge, balancing what could pass for precociousness with what was just unnatural, but generally, she was able to do so.
She couldn't let anyone know about her memories, that she had somehow made it through the reincarnation cycle without drinking from the River Styx. Her mother *lived* for her. From the pieces of various conversation she gleamed from the social workers who came to check up on the two periodically, Chikane knew her mother had suffered from a debilitating depression during her pregnancy and had been on suicide watch - still was, in fact. It was only the necessities of caring for a helpless newborn that finally gave her mother the drive to live again at all. Chikane couldn't risk being taken away from her mother for any reason (scientific inquiry, investigation of demonic possession, or otherwise); her mother could easily fall back into that despair.
Indeed, the young mother had even confessed this to her child one night, a couple of weeks before Chikane had started baby babbling and before she realized her daughter could understand every word she said. On that night, as new parents are often known to do, she laid her drowsy babe down to sleep on their shared futon, kissed her tenderly on the brow, and told her that she would never let any harm befall her, that she was her most precious princess, that she loved her more than anything in the world.
And then she said, her ocean blue eyes brimming, her voice choking with emotion, "you saved my life, baby girl. If not for you, I'd be dead by now. If not for you, there's no reason for me to go on."
Chikane had gazed silently up at her mother. Wanting to give her mother some sign that she understood, but frustratingly still unable to get her muscles to respond the way she wanted them to, all she could do was reach up and grab a fistful of her mother's lovely pink hair before drifting off to sleep.
That night, Chikane dreamed of Himeko. Because her mother held her so comfortingly, the dreams were good. 'Wait for me,' she told the Himeko of her dreams, 'I'm not ready to be with you yet. But soon, I will be. Soon.'
Once upon a time, there was a girl who watched a lot of harem anime and just wished that all these super-powered kick-ass females would stop fighting each other over some stupid guy and just be friends. In fact, she wished that all her favourite characters, from all the different series, could play together and be besties.
Many years later, this girl has grown up and become a big yuri fan. She still wishes for her favourite characters to play together, though 'play' now involves many different types of interactions and relationship. Bad things tend to happen to her favourite yuri characters and she believes that if they could reach across the boundaries of their own shows, they'd really be able to help one another with their problems and be better off for it. 'Revolution', is the latest iteration of this desire. Hopefully, there are other folks who may find these multi-cross-overs entertaining. ^_^
I beg forgiveness from folks who find bits and pieces of this fic familiar. There are indeed scenes that came from some of my prior writing, as they describe the basic premise of this fic which still fascinates me after all this time: how the universes of Utena, KannaMiko ( and now, MaiHime) could potentially work together. I'll try not to cheat *too* much though!
Special thanks to my guubear for putting up with me and being the world's bestest most awesomest sounding board.
Just one omake this time as this is just the prologue. I'm not sure how appropriate it is to lampoon the fic before it even officially begins. Future chapters will probably have more! ^_^;;
jen-chan-shaw. livejournal. com
OMAKE I: Replaced by Younger Model
[NORMAL-SIZED-CHIKANE wearing the regular Mahoraba school uniform holds BABY-CHIKANE with outstretched arms under BABY-CHIKANE's armpits. BABY-CHIKANE is only wearing a diaper and sucking on a pacifier. They are both glaring at each other.]
NORMAL-SIZED CHIKANE: [Eyebrow twitching] Okay squirt, let's get some things straight here. Just because you're small and cute does not mean you can get away with murder. You keep your drool covered fingers off of my Himeko, you hear?
BABY-CHIKANE: [Snorts derisively & rolls eyes]
NORMAL-SIZED CHIKANE: [Eyebrow twitches more furiously] Why you little-!
[Just then, HIMEKO walks onto the scene. She sees NORMAL-SIZED-CHIKANE and BABY-CHIKANE and promptly gets hearts in her eyes as all manner of flowers and bubbles and sparkles start crowding the background.]
HIMEKO: Ohmigod, aren't you just the most adorable thing! [Quickly takes BABY-CHIKANE from NORMAL-SIZED CHIKANE and starts cuddling her]
BABY-CHIKANE: [Looks over at NORMAL-SIZED CHIKANE. Spits out pacifier to smirk at NORMAL-SIZED CHIKANE. Sticks out her tongue and pulls down an eye] Pffft!
NORMAL-SIZED CHIKANE: * ~~~~ orz