This is a static copy of In the Rose Garden, which existed as the center of the western Utena fandom for years. Enjoy. :)

#1 | Back to Top04-30-2012 03:53:13 PM

Bare Footman
Registered: 04-11-2012
Posts: 1325

[Fanfic][2012]Seinen Kakumei Utena: yes, it's the actual fic itself

Edited on May 4, 2014 (updated to Part Twenty)
Seinen Kakumei Utena:  It's a mature revolution this time around.
Left Column, from up to down: Saionji, Touga (yes, he got a "W" branded to his face now)
Middle Column: Anthy, Utena (post "process"; and yes, that's one of those swords right there)
Right Column, from up to down, left to right: Juri, Miki, Tsuwabuki
Another poster with K-taro, S-Taro, Tokiko and Mikage (all prominently featured in the story) coming up in the future.

Seinen Kakumei Utena , crossing with Penguindrum starting Part 2
Rating: T for mature (to some, sensitive) subject matters.
Timeline: 10 years post Revolution, few weeks post Fate Train Transfer
Notable "Mysteries" Covered: Nemuro Hall, Child Broiler, Million Swords, Fate Train, Shadow Girls, Invisible People
Summary (or rather, Excerpt): “The revolution succeeded; it crumbled afterwards only because those whose lives got revolutionized did not follow up on the revolutionary success,” said the Bride, her words setting their closed hearts aflame. “This time, will you help us help you?”

NEW!! Seinen Kakumei Utena - The Encyclopedia (Spoiler Text Intensive)
The link is … umei_Utena.
The LJ link is
The Archive Of Our Own link (thanks, crystalwren!) is

WARNING: Parts of this work contain depictions of transphobia, controversial shoujo fantasy trans situation that in no way reflects real life trans people, and misogynic magic attack leading to forced masculinization.

Edited on May 4, 2014 (updated to Part Twenty)

Part One:  Flowers Adrift … utena.html

Part Two: The Fruits That Could Have Been … einen.html

Part Three: Prince, Interrupted - Prelude … en_16.html

Part Four: Prince, Interrupted – Main I … n-not.html

Part Five: Prince, Interrupted – Main II … einen.html

Part Six: Prince, Interrupted – Main III … en_20.html

Part Seven: Prince, Interrupted - Finale … einen.html

Part Eight: Missing Link I … en_30.html

Part Nine: Missing Link II … einen.html

Part Ten: Missing Link III … einen.html

Part Eleven: Victims of Fate I … einen.html

The Final Cut (prequel) … equel.html

Part Twelve: Victims of Fate II … einen.html

Part Thirteen: Victims of Fate III (BETA-ed by TheOnlyFlorence) … einen.html

Part Fourteen: Victims of Fate IV (BETA-ed by TheOnlyFlorence) … einen.html

Part Fifteen: Victims of Fate V (BETA-ed by TheOnlyFlorence)

Part Sixteen: Victims of Fate VI (BETA-ed by TheOnlyFlorence)

Brake Failure: Witch-Driven Princes Running Amok in the Night (BETA-ed by TheOnlyFlorence)
(Link: updated to Case I, Part B.

Part Twenty: Empty Movement II (BETA-ed by the wonderful TheOnlyFlorence)

Please C&C guys emot-wink

Un-formatted Part 1 here:

Seinen Kakumei Utena

Utena and its characters belong to its various owners.

Part One: Flowers Adrift

“I don’t suppose you can count how many flowers are floating in there?” asked the petite stylist, her lushly manicured fingertips working non-stop as they undid the rollers from the model’s hair, sending thick, springy curls flouncing vibrantly about.

Without lifting her indulgent gaze, currently focused upon the slim thighs revealed underneath the stylist’s frill-adorned black skorts, the seated but still obviously glamazonian model pursed her red-painted lips. “Forty-nine thousand.”

“ . . . that exact?”

“I don’t have to count; the director’s assistant showed me the receipt when the bouquets arrived.”

They were steps above a rooftop patio, one that was rapidly turning into a shallow pool from a spraying hose.  Orange roses, cut from right underneath the sepal, drifted atop the water’s glassy surface, glowing under the glaring spotlights as they glided nimbly by the half-submerged furnishings.  The otherworldly setting was contrasted against the worldly downtown night view to eerie effects, and it was amidst such eeriness that the model-in-grooming was about to work her magic for the camera.

“While wooing you, of course.”  Having finished hairspray-ing the model’s now artfully-pinned curly updo – every orange curl contorted to resembled the roses in the pool – the stylist let out a mock-pained moan as she pulled the salon cape off of the model, revealing the crystal-studded couture gown draping over the latter’s curves like a sheen of glittering scales.   “Either way, you could’ve at least pretended to count with me.  Even after all these years, you still suck at being playfully romantic, Juri.”

“Not playful, no . . .” reaching back to pull her stylist’s maroon-haired head to herself in one suave, almost gallant motion, Arisugawa Juri purred huskily into the other woman’s shell-like ear, “but still plenty romantic enough to keep my little Shirori with me, I hope.”

“It’s unprofessional to flirt with the stylist right in front of the crew, Juri,” chided Takatsuki Shiori, even as she leaned into the bigger woman’s embrace with much familiarity.

They had been close since childhood, since back when closeness knew no deeper name other than friendship, and beauty held little meaning cause love, love was an icky notion to the children they were, something to giggle over for fun.  With adolescence came the hormonal boys, came their growing interests in the girls, and the cruel distinction between the attractive girls and the less attractive ones.  Cracks grew between stunning Juri and plain Shiori, resulting in much mind-games, much coldness, much hurting via faceless, irrelevant boys that perverted two close-knitted girls into bitter enemies.  And such enmity may well have followed the two into adulthood, if not for the series of  (in hindsight, highly fantastical) events in high school that led to both Juri’s secret love for Shiori and Shirori’s repressed obsession over Juri getting simultaneously exposed.  Then came the denial, the violent conflicts and wild heartbreaks; and when those had left them all burned out, the two were left mutually resigned to the fact that they were both way too into each other for them not to be together.  Thus together they stayed, through high school and college, up to where they were now here at this flowery scene: a model and a stylist, both currently working under the same modeling agency – the internationally renowned Aranjia.

“And speaking of being professional . . .” even as her delicate hand wandered about Juri’s supple form, Shiori’s flowing murmur started slowing into a more hesitant pace, “I’m feeling something that’s a little too budging on a supermodel of your calibre.  I think it’s time you start on this protein-fibre diet that Yuuko -” The hissing snort from Juri cut her off like the sound of a whipping foil – a sound she has since associated with their volatile youth on their fencing team back at Ohtori, the one she mustered up the courage to join after that highly fantastical event, the one Juri said was a -

“You and your obsession with being thin,” muttered her Juri of here and now, in a voice showing tints of the defensiveness that Shiori remembered so well from their old days.  “I think you’ve been hanging about Yuuko and Aiko a little too much around the pantry, trading your outrageous dieting tips and getting your views further and further warped-”   

“You know this is not about my views or how I want you to look,” hissed Shiori from underneath her breathe (they were surrounded by the crew after all), her hands since retracted from Juri’s now rigid body. “I don’t know what the clients are saying behind our backs, but the office boy has let slip that the bitches ruling the women’s department have been bitching about your figure during their meeting, said how you’ve upped two sizes since they first signed you on ten years ago, back when - ”

“Upping two sizes in ten year is bad?”

“Juri!” It took the young stylist all her control to keep her agitated voice whispery.  “You’re not doing dishwasher commercials: you model for couture brands and walk for major fashion weeks every season!   You’re not just competing against other models your age – though a good many of them are slimmer than you’ve ever been – you’re competing against girls as young as fourteen but all hitting six feet!  I mean, look at those!”  She gestured subtly towards the models’ dressing tent, illuminated from inside like some giant lantern, within which a trio of girlish, stick-thin silhouettes were seen undressing via stretchy, sinuous movements that made them appear even more elongated than they already were.   Juri arched a fine brow at their showy display.

“I see they’ve got some very nice stick insects to go with the flowers.”

Growing impatient with Juri’s counterproductive defensiveness, Shiori darkened her voice.