Her Last Evolution

Utena characters belong to their various owners.

Synopsis: Post-revolution, Nanami again makes a killing for her brother.  This is a companion piece to Our Eternal Apocalypse (Seinenverse), but can standalone

WARNING: Contain murder, plus vague mentioning of sexual abuse.   


Time: 3 months post-revolution
Place: Kiryuu Mansion

Long ago, there was a child who thought the world of her perfect and cool older brother, and she killed a kitten simply for biting him on the finger.  Sure, the resulting fear (and guilt) rendered her a crying mess right afterwards.  But what was done was done; it was not something the child could undo, even had she wanted to. 
   
That child, now a young woman whose eyes were opened to the truth, was set on doing something . . . similar at this very moment.
   
The man sealed his fate the moment he dismissed his servants/goons for the evening.  He likely thought that a thirteen year old like her was nothing he could not manhandle on his own.   Amused by her eagerness in offering herself up, he easily allowed the girl to lead him into her bathroom, and then into the steaming, fragranced tub.  Soaked in, he even took to idly lighting his cig while she fumbled through the wall-mounted tabletop – cluttered with feminine gadgets that men tend to overlook – supposedly looking for incense.  Thus, when she deftly pulled a charging cell phone from the pile, then dropping it into the tub, there was no way for him to get out in time.

She watched, for a moment, the man’s age-sagged body convulsing worm-like in the water, before the lights died as the breaker cut power off the room.

“It’s your fault, ” she spoke aloud in the darkness.  “This is for touching my brother.”

There was this gurgling sound coming from the man.  Grabbing the mop, the girl used its plastic handle to keep his head under water, all the while feeling every movement of his weakening struggle . . .

It was perhaps fortunate that she had never felt much towards this person who had been posing as her father for so long.  Sure, she knew that his influence as an entrepreneur  – one with ties to the underworld, even – was what made her and her brother privileged elites at school; but beyond that, her impression of ever-absent “Daddy” was vague at best. 

That was until she walked in on him abusing her brother.
“Abuse” was perhaps too mild a term: four goons were holding her brother down as their so-called-dad stamped a branding iron on his face.  All the while, threats were made involving a rape squad and the boy’s sister, just so he would know the price of further disobedience . . .

Thus how she learned the ugly truth about her “elite” family.  Turned out her cool, perfect brother was really a catamite sold to this wealthy pedophile years ago under the guise of adoption, and she – a toddler then – got sold alongside as this hostage-figure for “Daddy” to better control his boy.  Said boy’s fling with the skeevy but resourceful Dean of Students turned out to be a deal with the devil – one that had kept both him and his sister safe from molestation for the past few years.  With the Dean crumbled by recent events, there was nothing to deter their predatory adoptive father anymore . . . except death, of course.

By now, “Daddy” had completely ceased to struggle.  How like that kitten, she thought, which she also killed by drowning--

No, sharp sting in her eyes notwithstanding, she was not going to cry like she did back then.  Killing a mere kitten out of some childish impulse was nothing like her now ridding the world of this monster.  This was justified.  This was right.

This was murder.
   
“Nanami . . .”

Turning around, she saw her brother standing at the bathroom’s opened door.  Even the dimness could not obscure that branded mark now marring his cheekbone, nor could they hide the look of horror in his eyes.

“Touga . . .” she started, but stopped at his slamming a fist against the doorframe.

“I already have a plan to get rid of him,” he said, handsome face since gone rigid from lividness. “I’d do it in such a way that it cannot be traced back to me.  Even Kyouichi has already agreed to help, so why . . . ?”

“Nothing can be traced to you even now,” offered Nanami, meeting his eyes while point down at their submerged, deadened adversary.  “I’m the one who did this.” 

“You fool; you absolute fool.”

“Didn’t you know? I am a fool.”

And her brother did something she had never seen him do before, not even during the branding: he broke down crying like the abused, hapless youth he really was.  Watching his perfect, cool façade – that which she once loved more than anything in this world – crumble, Nanami finally had an excuse to stop blinking, as she too let her own tears fall.


Continued in Seinen Kakumei Utena (http://forums.ohtori.nu/viewtopic.php?id=3026)

Last edited by gorgeousshutin (10-11-2014 03:20:11 PM)