X & Utena - Kanoe/Kozue: Left Behind (enemies first)
Title: Left Behind
Author: vitupera
Fandom: X and Shoujo Kakumei Utena
Pairing: Kanoe/Kozue (or perhaps Kozue/Kanoe)
Rating: R for graphic sex, strong language
Warnings: Yeeeeeah. Unrepentantly smutty. Also, crack.
Request/Prompt: Enemies first
Word Count: 1560
Summary/Notes: Disjointed style seemed to be what made this one work for me, let's hope it works for others too. >.<;; Apologies if I mixed up Kanoe's and Kozue's names anywhere, because I'm sure it's perplexing enough already. Oh yeah, and it may be unfinished. I'm sorry, it's been a long time since I last wrote fanfic.
---
That cold night in December, they kept each other warm for hours, hands and lips and tongues on and in each other. Yuuto was already dead by then; that might have accounted for some of the triumph in Kozue's smirk. But Kanoe knew how close she was to victory, and grinned back just as savagely before sinking her teeth into the breast presented to her. With that, Kozue came, her breath nothing but a hiss as she tightened her thighs convulsively around Kanoe's hand. As soon as her eyes opened again, she shoved the woman away with all her strength, slapping away the hand Kanoe extended to steady herself. Kozue snatched her shirt from where it had fallen and slid into her jeans, leaving her bra behind without a thought, walking out into the small hours of the dawn of December 28th, 1999. Kanoe watched her go without a sound, her expression consumed with fury.
That was the second-to-last time they ever saw each other, and Kozue never came back for her bra.
---
"What a gorgeous shade of blue," Yuuto murmured as they strolled back to her office towards the end of Kanoe's lunch break. Indicating the young woman passing by, he continued, "She must take quite a lot of care with her hair dye, don't you think?"
"Mm," Kanoe agreed noncommittally, bored already by the line of conversation but intrigued by the girl's face. Something in it reminded Kanoe quite strongly of her own. She mentally reached out and tagged the girl, ever so lightly, so that she could find her and peer into her dreams that night.
---
"Oh hell no," Kozue rolled her eyes, skirt rucked up to her hips. Kanoe had just hooked a finger in her panties and slid them down, only to stop in surprise and ask the obvious question. "Dyeing your pubic hair is fucking stupid."
---
When Kanoe opened the door of Kozue's mind that night, just a crack, and peered in, her eyes widened appreciatively. The dream was a sand-swept, wind-blasted plain, giant rusting shapes looming above her, half-buried and unrecognizable. Thick vines had sprouted from bushes dotting the landscape, and these had grown to overrun the rotted, industrial hulks. It was all rather scenic and similar to Kanoe's own dreams, only these plants too had died, rendering everything in browns and tans. It was an interesting change from the green of overgrown office buildings; Kanoe was intrigued. She stepped in, closed the door behind her, and continued to walk, impatiently forbidding the wind to send her hair in disarray, much less blow sand at her. Something crunched under her feet, and she looked down at the crumbled remains of an old, desiccated rose.
"Nice trick," came a voice from behind her, and of course it was the blue-haired girl, lips half twisted in more of a knowing smirk than any kind of welcoming smile.
"You just have to be the boss, that's all," Kanoe smiled back in kind, flaunting her control as she tossed her long hair over her shoulder.
"Then perhaps... you could take on an assistant, sempai," the girl continued to smirk, and it was a terrible line, so bad Kanoe wanted to laugh, but it was Kozue's dream and for all Kanoe's power she felt herself begin to respond to the other girl's invitation. She took off her jacket and tossed it to the ground, where it shimmered and expanded, growing larger and softer until it was a large fur-lined blanked, white fur for god's sake, but now their clothes had melted away and Kozue-- that was her name, Kozue-- her hands were running over Kanoe's body eagerly, caressing her breasts with practiced ease and then the girl was dropping to her knees and making tiny, sucking bites on the inside of her thigh, and Kanoe was enjoying that one moment and pulling Kozue up the next, grabbing her and kissing her deep, fingers deep inside her--
When their heartbeats, side by side, had slowed to normal, and their breaths were no longer gasps, Kanoe leaned in, driven by a whim she couldn't explain. She nuzzled into the curve of Kozue's pale neck, and, lips to ear, whispered, "What if I told you the world was ending?"
---
"Are you a dream?" Kanoe suddenly demanded, seizing Kozue by the elbow. She was sure she had come to see the girl in the waking world, sure they were in Kozue's cramped little apartment on a cheap and rather lumpy futon. Almost sure. Usually it was easier for her to tell when she was dreaming and when she was waking, but this girl really did seem to throw everything into disarray for her.
Kozue gave her an incredulous stare and then threw her head back and laughed uproariously, finally catching her breath just enough to sneer, "What are you going to ask me next, if I'm an angel? If I'm tired, 'cause baby, I've been running through your head all day? Christ." She draped her free arm over Kanoe's shoulders and leaned in, close enough to run her the tip of her tongue up the curve of one earlobe. "Don't try so hard. You've already got me in your bed, remember?"
Kanoe shivered, enticed, then the moment turned and she pushed Kozue away. "Same to you. You know what I meant."
Kozue shrugged. "Not really. Dreamgazing? Makes you sound like a fucking nutcase. I promise you, your little apocalypse doesn't mean shit to me."
---
One unseasonably cold day in May, a girl with close-cropped blue hair drove to a nameless place a couple of hours from a nondescript seaside town. This would have been unremarkable except for the excessive speed the girl drove at and the reckless way she took turns and curves along the coast. When she got to her destination-- rusted, decaying gates enclosing a ramshackle, enormous, entirely abandoned old estate, she floored the accelerator and burst through the gates with a terrible squealing and screeching of metal. The gates were far too old to stand up to such abuse and gave way, but the car was hardly in better shape, the windshield cracked, the hood puckered around the point of impact, the bumper so entangled with the shattered gate that when she put the car in reverse, the bumper let out another tortured scream and fell, still caught on ancient ironwork. The girl didn't seem to care; she leapt out and ran forward a few paces, stopping nowhere in particular and screaming to the sky, "WELL?"
When nothing answered her but the far-off call of a bird, she tried again. "I'M HERE! I'M BACK! I'LL DO IT! I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT, USE ME! USE ME! TAKE ME WITH YOU!"
She shuddered and ran a hand through her hair, muttering to herself, "What was it, what... revolutions... the power for a revolution? Power of a revolution? Revolution of power?"
She spent hours screaming every combination she could think of, until her throat was raw and her voice could be pushed no higher than a croak, until dusk came.
She drove slowly back in the dark, stopping every few kilometers to refill her cracked and leaking radiator. It took seven hours.
---
That late December night, Kanoe described the progress her Angels had made, her Dragons of Earth, most dying but causing such glorious destruction in the process. And her Kamui, of course, for the Seal's Kamui was nothing, weak, and her Kamui would--
"Your Kamui's not worth shit," Kozue sneered up from between Kanoe's knees, "what a bunch of losers, the lot of you. Humanity won't die. Every fucking armageddon comes and goes, that's nice, have a fucking sticker, humanity's tougher than cockroaches and won't get wiped out, won't get changed, all of that bullshit's for nothing."
Kanoe choked down a shocked outburst-- she knew that was all Kozue was fishing for-- and pushed her back on the bed, resolving that for every stupid word out of her mouth she'd wring a scream of passion from her throat. That, probably, was where Kanoe lost that last, final match.
---
And much later, in mid-March of 2000, Kanoe caught a glimpse of close-cropped, bright blue hair across the street and ran, not thinking, not caring about the accompaniment of blaring car horns, until she was in front of the girl once more.
"You!" Kanoe breathed, planting a spread hand in Kozue's chest, stopping her progress. "What did you do? Did you help stop it?"
"I..." Kozue stared at the hand in confusion, and Kanoe wondered for a bizarre moment if the girl had somehow forgotten her. "I don't know. No, I don't think. Except... I guess I must have done something."
"You must have done something," Kanoe parroted back, but it was tired and faded mockery, with almost no trace of the contempt that had once been hallmark of her speech. "You guess. How so?"
Kozue bit her lip and glanced down at the newspaper rolled up in her hand. The small piece, in the entertainment section, about a piano prodigy recently come out of seclusion to begin performing again. "I can't think how else I would've deserved the miracle I've got. Look--" finally Kozue lifted her head and locked eyes with Kanoe, "forget about me. I'm pretty sure we'll never see each other again." She shook off Kanoe's hand and walked with the press of people as the reconstruction of Tokyo roared on around them.
Author: vitupera
Fandom: X and Shoujo Kakumei Utena
Pairing: Kanoe/Kozue (or perhaps Kozue/Kanoe)
Rating: R for graphic sex, strong language
Warnings: Yeeeeeah. Unrepentantly smutty. Also, crack.
Request/Prompt: Enemies first
Word Count: 1560
Summary/Notes: Disjointed style seemed to be what made this one work for me, let's hope it works for others too. >.<;; Apologies if I mixed up Kanoe's and Kozue's names anywhere, because I'm sure it's perplexing enough already. Oh yeah, and it may be unfinished. I'm sorry, it's been a long time since I last wrote fanfic.
---
That cold night in December, they kept each other warm for hours, hands and lips and tongues on and in each other. Yuuto was already dead by then; that might have accounted for some of the triumph in Kozue's smirk. But Kanoe knew how close she was to victory, and grinned back just as savagely before sinking her teeth into the breast presented to her. With that, Kozue came, her breath nothing but a hiss as she tightened her thighs convulsively around Kanoe's hand. As soon as her eyes opened again, she shoved the woman away with all her strength, slapping away the hand Kanoe extended to steady herself. Kozue snatched her shirt from where it had fallen and slid into her jeans, leaving her bra behind without a thought, walking out into the small hours of the dawn of December 28th, 1999. Kanoe watched her go without a sound, her expression consumed with fury.
That was the second-to-last time they ever saw each other, and Kozue never came back for her bra.
---
"What a gorgeous shade of blue," Yuuto murmured as they strolled back to her office towards the end of Kanoe's lunch break. Indicating the young woman passing by, he continued, "She must take quite a lot of care with her hair dye, don't you think?"
"Mm," Kanoe agreed noncommittally, bored already by the line of conversation but intrigued by the girl's face. Something in it reminded Kanoe quite strongly of her own. She mentally reached out and tagged the girl, ever so lightly, so that she could find her and peer into her dreams that night.
---
"Oh hell no," Kozue rolled her eyes, skirt rucked up to her hips. Kanoe had just hooked a finger in her panties and slid them down, only to stop in surprise and ask the obvious question. "Dyeing your pubic hair is fucking stupid."
---
When Kanoe opened the door of Kozue's mind that night, just a crack, and peered in, her eyes widened appreciatively. The dream was a sand-swept, wind-blasted plain, giant rusting shapes looming above her, half-buried and unrecognizable. Thick vines had sprouted from bushes dotting the landscape, and these had grown to overrun the rotted, industrial hulks. It was all rather scenic and similar to Kanoe's own dreams, only these plants too had died, rendering everything in browns and tans. It was an interesting change from the green of overgrown office buildings; Kanoe was intrigued. She stepped in, closed the door behind her, and continued to walk, impatiently forbidding the wind to send her hair in disarray, much less blow sand at her. Something crunched under her feet, and she looked down at the crumbled remains of an old, desiccated rose.
"Nice trick," came a voice from behind her, and of course it was the blue-haired girl, lips half twisted in more of a knowing smirk than any kind of welcoming smile.
"You just have to be the boss, that's all," Kanoe smiled back in kind, flaunting her control as she tossed her long hair over her shoulder.
"Then perhaps... you could take on an assistant, sempai," the girl continued to smirk, and it was a terrible line, so bad Kanoe wanted to laugh, but it was Kozue's dream and for all Kanoe's power she felt herself begin to respond to the other girl's invitation. She took off her jacket and tossed it to the ground, where it shimmered and expanded, growing larger and softer until it was a large fur-lined blanked, white fur for god's sake, but now their clothes had melted away and Kozue-- that was her name, Kozue-- her hands were running over Kanoe's body eagerly, caressing her breasts with practiced ease and then the girl was dropping to her knees and making tiny, sucking bites on the inside of her thigh, and Kanoe was enjoying that one moment and pulling Kozue up the next, grabbing her and kissing her deep, fingers deep inside her--
When their heartbeats, side by side, had slowed to normal, and their breaths were no longer gasps, Kanoe leaned in, driven by a whim she couldn't explain. She nuzzled into the curve of Kozue's pale neck, and, lips to ear, whispered, "What if I told you the world was ending?"
---
"Are you a dream?" Kanoe suddenly demanded, seizing Kozue by the elbow. She was sure she had come to see the girl in the waking world, sure they were in Kozue's cramped little apartment on a cheap and rather lumpy futon. Almost sure. Usually it was easier for her to tell when she was dreaming and when she was waking, but this girl really did seem to throw everything into disarray for her.
Kozue gave her an incredulous stare and then threw her head back and laughed uproariously, finally catching her breath just enough to sneer, "What are you going to ask me next, if I'm an angel? If I'm tired, 'cause baby, I've been running through your head all day? Christ." She draped her free arm over Kanoe's shoulders and leaned in, close enough to run her the tip of her tongue up the curve of one earlobe. "Don't try so hard. You've already got me in your bed, remember?"
Kanoe shivered, enticed, then the moment turned and she pushed Kozue away. "Same to you. You know what I meant."
Kozue shrugged. "Not really. Dreamgazing? Makes you sound like a fucking nutcase. I promise you, your little apocalypse doesn't mean shit to me."
---
One unseasonably cold day in May, a girl with close-cropped blue hair drove to a nameless place a couple of hours from a nondescript seaside town. This would have been unremarkable except for the excessive speed the girl drove at and the reckless way she took turns and curves along the coast. When she got to her destination-- rusted, decaying gates enclosing a ramshackle, enormous, entirely abandoned old estate, she floored the accelerator and burst through the gates with a terrible squealing and screeching of metal. The gates were far too old to stand up to such abuse and gave way, but the car was hardly in better shape, the windshield cracked, the hood puckered around the point of impact, the bumper so entangled with the shattered gate that when she put the car in reverse, the bumper let out another tortured scream and fell, still caught on ancient ironwork. The girl didn't seem to care; she leapt out and ran forward a few paces, stopping nowhere in particular and screaming to the sky, "WELL?"
When nothing answered her but the far-off call of a bird, she tried again. "I'M HERE! I'M BACK! I'LL DO IT! I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT, USE ME! USE ME! TAKE ME WITH YOU!"
She shuddered and ran a hand through her hair, muttering to herself, "What was it, what... revolutions... the power for a revolution? Power of a revolution? Revolution of power?"
She spent hours screaming every combination she could think of, until her throat was raw and her voice could be pushed no higher than a croak, until dusk came.
She drove slowly back in the dark, stopping every few kilometers to refill her cracked and leaking radiator. It took seven hours.
---
That late December night, Kanoe described the progress her Angels had made, her Dragons of Earth, most dying but causing such glorious destruction in the process. And her Kamui, of course, for the Seal's Kamui was nothing, weak, and her Kamui would--
"Your Kamui's not worth shit," Kozue sneered up from between Kanoe's knees, "what a bunch of losers, the lot of you. Humanity won't die. Every fucking armageddon comes and goes, that's nice, have a fucking sticker, humanity's tougher than cockroaches and won't get wiped out, won't get changed, all of that bullshit's for nothing."
Kanoe choked down a shocked outburst-- she knew that was all Kozue was fishing for-- and pushed her back on the bed, resolving that for every stupid word out of her mouth she'd wring a scream of passion from her throat. That, probably, was where Kanoe lost that last, final match.
---
And much later, in mid-March of 2000, Kanoe caught a glimpse of close-cropped, bright blue hair across the street and ran, not thinking, not caring about the accompaniment of blaring car horns, until she was in front of the girl once more.
"You!" Kanoe breathed, planting a spread hand in Kozue's chest, stopping her progress. "What did you do? Did you help stop it?"
"I..." Kozue stared at the hand in confusion, and Kanoe wondered for a bizarre moment if the girl had somehow forgotten her. "I don't know. No, I don't think. Except... I guess I must have done something."
"You must have done something," Kanoe parroted back, but it was tired and faded mockery, with almost no trace of the contempt that had once been hallmark of her speech. "You guess. How so?"
Kozue bit her lip and glanced down at the newspaper rolled up in her hand. The small piece, in the entertainment section, about a piano prodigy recently come out of seclusion to begin performing again. "I can't think how else I would've deserved the miracle I've got. Look--" finally Kozue lifted her head and locked eyes with Kanoe, "forget about me. I'm pretty sure we'll never see each other again." She shook off Kanoe's hand and walked with the press of people as the reconstruction of Tokyo roared on around them.