AnimeFEST 2002 Fanfiction Contest
Second Prize

Stormwalker <stormwalker@airmail.net> presents...
Ten
A short work of Bubblegum Crisis (OAV) fanfiction
by Douglas A. Reeves

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     An amused smirk plays at the corners of my lips as I watch this
most seemingly unlikely of scenes unfold.  Priss stands in the center
of a flurry of activity, fidgeting nervously as a number of other young
women fuss over every detail of her appearance.  An impressive
appearance it is; those who have known Priss over the years might
double-take at seeing her now... the flowing white dress suits her more
well than many might expect.  I feel a slight flush of pride at that,
having played something of a role in that as well as most aspects of
this ceremony.  Nothing of my contribution, however, can account for
Priss herself; the dress merely serves to accent her own beauty, which
others are taking great pains to make apparent.

     For her part, Priss is accepting her helpless condition rather
better than I had anticipated she would... but even so, the agitated
look is clearly readable on her face.  Concealing her emotions has
never been Priss' forte, and never will be, but her silent tolerance of
the whirlwind that has enveloped her makes for an interesting contrast
to the raging anger I have so long known.  It is yet another of the
indicators of something this day and those leading up to it have proven
again and again; one of my 'children' has matured before my eyes.

     Of course, there is more to be gleaned from this image than
simply that realization.  For all that this scene revolves around its
central figure, the others present have stories of their own... such
as Linna, who is taking every opportunity to tease her closest friend
even as she works on arranging her hair.  "You know, there's still time
to back out of this," she prods.  "Not that I'm saying you should, but
you seem so nervous... and it's such a big step you're taking.  Do you
really want to commit yourself?  I always thought you were the
independent type."

     "Linna!" Nene protests, the humor of Linna's comments lost on her.
"This is Priss' big day!  Just because you have no sense of romance
doesn't mean you should try to talk her out of it!"  It is a typical
response from her, one we have all learned to expect.  Today, though,
Nene has been more flighty even than usual, so caught up in the romance
of the event that one would almost think that it was her wedding we
were preparing for.  If nothing else, it must seem to her a
justification of her romanticized view of life that this day has
arrived at all--if love could soften Priss' hardened heart, surely it
will find its way to her eventually.

     Linna laughs.  "Oh, but Priss knows exactly what I mean, don't
you, Priss?" she counters.  It is another jab... a joke that isn't a
joke.  Certainly she is teasing Priss, hoping for the reaction that her
friend has so carefuly not shown... and probably poking at Nene as
well.  It is also, though, a safe means for Linna to express her own
misgivings about the step that Priss is taking.  She has developed
a cynical view of romance over her years of short-lived, transient
relationships.  Though she never lacks for a boyfriend, one wonders if
Linna has ever had a love.

     Priss once shared that view, I think, though for different
reasons.  Now, though, she only gives her friends a wry smile.
"I'm just ready for this to be over with.  I've never been so nervous
in my life."  It is an unusual admission from her... this is someone
who has spent most of her adult life on stage, baring her tempestuous
soul for all to see in her music, defying any and all to challenge her.
 I wonder at such words from her, at the emotions it must take to
produce them.  I have never known romantic love, have never faced such
a moment, so I can only imagine... and yet, I see so much reflected in
Priss' eyes that it is almost overwhelming even to me.

     I join the conversation, as much to distract myself from such
thoughts as anything else.  "If I recall correctly, Priss, you are the
one who insisted on all of this."  I smile slightly as I remind her...
this, at least, I have been looking forward to.

     "I know, I know," she groans.  "I've got nobody to blame but
myself.  It's just..." she pasues, searching for words, and I realize
that I am about to gain another look at the hidden aspect of Priss'
soul.  "...I've never started anything right in my life, Sylia.  This
is too important for me to screw it up, y'know?  I... I want to do it
right.  I want it to be perfect.  Just this once."

     With her words, images flash in my mind; I remember our first
meeting... a perfect example of the kind of start Priss is looking to
avoid.  I still remember the look on her face as I stood over her,
having knocked the knife out of her hand, and offered her a chance to
do something productive with all her pent-up rage.  Now, she has come
full circle, and that beginning has finally come to an end.  She moves
on to the next chapter in her life... and now so must I.

     "It will be, Priss," I assure her.  "I'll be sure of that."
With those words, I stand.  "Now, if you will excuse me a few minutes,
I must see to some things."  It is not completely untrue... though the
entire affair is most competently organized--my work, after all--there
are certain matters I should look into.  More than that, though, I
realize that I need some time to myself, to prepare myself for what is
about to be.

     As I slip out the door and into the hallway, I wonder at the
sudden emotion that rises up within me... and at my unpreparedness for
it.  How is it that I am able to so easily predict the feelings of the
others, and yet am so surprised by my own?  I have known for a while
what this day would represent, and all that would be bound up in it,
and yet only now do I find myself facing the emotional realities of
that understanding.

     For all that this day is a beginning, the start of a new and
hopefully happier life for Priss, it is an ending as well.  Though I
could almost certainly convince Priss to remain with the Knight Sabers,
I cannot ask her to continue to risk her life for my crusade now that
she has someone to share that life with.  She needs to look forward to
her future, not back at her past.  For all that I might need her, she
no longer needs me, except for this one last push out the door.

     Truthfully, none of them need me anymore; all of them have found
that which they sought, that which first drew them to me... they are
ready to move on with their lives.  It is a source of great pride for
me, in its own way, that I have been able to play a part in their
growth and in the pursuit of their dreams.  Now, though, comes the
bittersweet moment when I must allow them to fly off in their own
directions, to follow their own paths, wherever they might lead.

     It is the end of the Knight Sabers, the end of the crusade to
which I have devoted the better part of my life.  I will not abandon my
work; the struggle against GENOM's abuse of my father's creations will
continue, though I take the battle to less overt arenas.  Yet now, at
the end of this stage, I find myself looking back rather than forward,
and evaluating my accomplishments in terms other than those which I set
out to achieve.  The battle with GENOM has been a perpetual stalemate,
as it must be; the destruction of our corporate nemesis is neither
desirable nor within our reach, but we have thwarted the worst of their
schemes and maintained the balance of power.  Were it for this alone, I
would count these past years a success... but I have found greater
reward in the Knight Sabers themselves, in the three young women who
have been my employees, my comrades-in-arms, and of late even my friends.

     I wonder, in this moment, what it must be like for a mother as she
watches her daughters leave their home, to see them come into their
own, find their places in the world... and though these three are
scarcely younger than myself I cannot help but think that it feels
like this.  I am proud of all that they have accomplished, and of
the way they have grown, and of the role which I have been privileged
to play... and yet I will be very saddened to see them go.

     Again my mind is drawn back to the beginning, this time to the
eleven rules I originally laid down for the Knight Sabers.  Priss was
the only one of the three who did not protest the tenth rule... having
just lost a love, she had no desire to seek another.  It is perhaps
ironic then that her breach of that rule marks the end of all that was
begun on that day.  When I wrote those rules, I truly did not
anticipate my relationship with those in my employ to ever become
anything more than business; they were useful to me, and I provided
them with the opportunities they desired.  I am not sure when it was
that this began to change... but change it has.

     Even I have changed.

     Time passes, and I find myself caught up in the process of
resolving several minor issues.  Nearly an hour has passed before I
return to the bride's room; I find Priss there alone, the others having
departed for a few moments.  It is getting near to time for the
ceremony, and I am thankful for their absence... it gives me a little
time alone with Priss as the moment she is waiting for draws nigh.  I
can only imagine what she must be feeling now, how she is handling her
earlier anxiety... so I ask.

     She shrugs, an impossibly inelegant gesture for someone made to
look so majestic... but one that is inescapably Priss.  "I'm all
right," she says.  "Don't know why I'm so nervous, though... I haven't
been this wound up over something since my first concert."  She looks
down at herself.  "I feel... I don't know, I feel like all of this is
too good for me, kinda.  Like someone is going to come in here and say I
don't belong or somethin'"

     I cannot help but smile at that.  "This is your day," I remind
her.  "You have waited for this, and fought for this, and earned
this, and nobody will take it away from you.  Moments like this only
come once... try to enjoy it while you have it."

     "Oh, I am.  It's just... well, you know me, Sylia.  I hate
waitin'.  I just want to get on with it.  Besides, I'm afraid to move
in this dress and all... I'm not used to delicate stuff like this."
More images come to mind, of Priss' misadventures, coming back battered
after mission after mission, shrugging it off, and going out again.  Is
it any wonder that she is unaccustomed to delicacy?  "Don't get me
wrong," she adds quickly, remembering who bought that dress for her,
"...it's beautiful and all.  Nene keeps talking about how Leon will
pass out when he sees me.  It's just... I'm not used to this kinda thing."

     I nod knowingly, but before I can respond further Nene and Linna
return, looking entirely cheerful and pleased with themselves.  A few
more minutes of good-natured teasing and idle conversation follow;
Linna mentions one of Leon's friends she met at the rehearsal dinner,
opening herself up for a few quick verbal jabs from an all-too-eager
Priss.  Turnabout is fair play, I suppose.

     Nene takes the time to look herself over in the mirror once more;
she seems satisified with her appearance, as she should... for all that
this is a traditional wedding as the Western customs go, we have at
least avoided the horrific bridesmaids' dresses that seem to accompany
such events.  After all, if I must wear one, I will make at least that
concession to my own sense of dignity.  They are simple, and certainly
place us in no danger of showing up the bride--as though such were
possible--but it is an elegant simplicity, with a beauty of its own.

     Of course, I also know why Nene is so concerned with her
appearance.  Though I do not make it my business, usually, to involve
myself in the personal affairs of those around me, it would be
impossible not to notice the stolen glances between our resident
computer wizardess and my younger brother.  Far be it from me to
discourage this... if anything, I have given my tacit approval; the two
are good for each other, I think.  Mackie has matured quite a bit in
these last years, and I think his feelings for Nene have played some
part in that growth.  As for Nene... I have often feared that her
romanticized outlook makes her vulnerable to those who would take
advantage of her... with Mackie, I can be certain his advances are
sincere.  Furthermore, Nene has chosen to continue to assist me in my
endeavors, and as her relationship with Mackie develops it provides a
sort of natural cover for her involvement in my affairs.

     I chide myself for such mercenary thoughts.  Truly I am happy for
both of them, just as I am happy for Priss, and I only hope that their
path will be easier than the one taken by those who will be joined
today.  On that note, however, it is time.  Taking a moment to collect
myself, I stand, motioning to the others.  "This way."

     I pause after Nene and Linna have passed out of the room to turn one
last time to Priss.  "Well, the waiting is over," I say to her
quietly.  "How are you feeling?"

     She smiles nervously.  "...like I could wait a few more minutes."
I laugh softly at her response, and she seems to relax somewhat.  "No,
I'm ready.  As ready as I'll ever be, anyway."

     "Well, then, let us be on our way."  With that, the two of us walk
down the long corridor toward the entrance to the church.  Again I
allow myself some small pride here; it is difficult in Megatokyo to
find a venue well-suited to a Western wedding, and the difficulty is
only complicated when the groom's friends comprise most of AD Police.
It took some doing finding such a facility that could accomodate a
ceremony of this scale, and it was not inexpensive, but as I glance
through the doors into the packed sanctuary, I think the results to be quite
worth the effort.

     "Well, this is it," Priss says softly.  Her voice is just short of
trembling, though she holds herself stone-still rather than allow her
anxiety to show in her bearing.  Defiant to the last; I would expect
nothing less.

     The music begins, then, and Nene steps out into the aisle.  Unlike
Priss, Nene *is* trembling, though one would have to be very near her
to notice.  Too much nervous energy, I think.  I wish that I could see
her eyes from here... she will not turn her head, but I know where her
gaze will be as she walks that aisle... and where her thoughts are.  Such a
fanciful mind she has, always dreaming.  I sometimes envy her
that ability.

     Linna is more business-like about it, as she is with all things,
though at this point I can see that even she is starting to be caught
up in the moment.  She has no witty comment for Priss this time,
whispering only to herself, "...don't trip, Linna.  Just don't trip."
Her concern is legitimate... she did exactly that during the rehearsal.
Still, she is smiling, and though it is a tense smile, it is a genuine
one.

     Now it is my turn to wait... and for perhaps the first time I feel
the tension that seems to have infected all of those around me.  I run
through my mental checklist... everything is in place now; I can see
Leon and his groomsmen at the front of the church, waiting for their
first glimpse of the bride.  Linna does not, in fact, trip on her way
down the aisle.  Everything is going well... why am I so anxious about
this?  Is it because of my promise, to make this perfect?  I take a
deep breath to quiet my own nerves.  Perfect it shall be.

     I take the first step, and the anxieties fall away.  It is, I
think with a degree of irony, not unlike stepping onto a battlefield;
the anticipation is far worse than the event.  Once matters are again
placed in my hands, my self-assurance takes over, and my fears are
suppressed.  As I reach the end of the aisle and move to take my place
for the ceremony, my thoughts take a mischeivous turn.  It is time,
now, for that for which so many have been waiting... the appearance of
the bride.  My eyes turn to Leon, to see his reaction... he is
curiously still; it takes only a moment to realize that he is holding
his breath.

     The music changes, the crowd turns... and Leon's eyes widen in
stunned silence as Priss finally makes her entrance.  An audible gasp
can be heard from most of the men in attendance; many of them have seen
Priss before, at her concerts or in Leon's company, but none of them
have seen her like this.  She is radiant; the same presence that gives
her performances on stage such impact now lends her an air of majesty.
In this moment she is royalty, and this is her court; all are subject
to her dominion.  My smile grows slightly, as I realize that even I,
having seen all of this already, am so struck by her appearance.  I am
proud... of myself for my role in bringing this to be... but more of
her, for the growth in her person that makes it possible at all.

     If the procession seemed an eternity, the ceremony itself passes
in a whirlwind... or perhaps it is simply that I am swept along by the
flood of my own emotions, which I again find myself curiously
unprepared for.  A few things, though, make themselves quickly evident.
Priss is happy... happier than I believe I have ever seen her.  She has
wanted this for longer than she would admit, I think... and has needed
it longer still.

     I... am pleased for her, in a way that I cannot quite put to
words... and yet I feel a pang in my own heart, one I have not felt in
years past.  When I began the Knight Sabers, and even before, I knew
the sacrifice I was making, that I would almost certainly live out my
years in loneliness.  It was something I was prepared for, something
I never believed I would ever regret... and regret it I still do not.
But in this moment, as vows are given, rings exchanged, and bonds
formed which I have little doubt will last a lifetime, the knowledge is
painful to me.  I will never know this moment, but silently I am
thankful to Priss for sharing hers with me.

     Then, there is the kiss; it is fairly innocent by comparison to
some I have seen at such events, but the passion these two share for
each other is undeniable.  My gaze turns to Nene, who seems as if she
will burst from happiness, and then to Linna, just in time to see her
brush a tear from her eye.  I have to smile at that, another reminder
of how much these young ladies have grown during our time together...
and of how much I have come to appreciate them.

     The ceremony over, it is time for the reception.  Here there is a
surprise for almost everyone... how many wedding receptions can boast
an appearance by Vision and the Revengers?  If the ceremony was
traditional, the reception proves somewhat livelier, as is to be
expected considering those it is held to honor.  Unable to let a
concert pass at her own wedding without at least taking the stage once,
Priss kicks off the affair with a piece from her upcoming album.  From
there, the party starts in earnest, and after ensuring that all is in
order I can fade into the shadows to reflect on my own feelings.

     It is then that I discover something else... I am weary.  It is
not so much a physical exhaustion as a mental one... The day has been
draining for me, much in the manner that a critical operation might be,
and now that the major part of my role is done, I find that the effort
has caught up to me at last.  Still, there is one more thing which must
be done.

     It is my intention to seek Priss out, but it is she who finds me
instead, in one of the side rooms adjacent to the reception hall.  She
turns to Leon, excusing herself for a moment, then closes the door
behind her, granting us a few moments of solitude.  There is silence as
we both search for the words; I am about to speak when she shakes her
head.

     "Don't," she says softly.  "Before you say anything, Sylia, I just
wanted to tell you... thank you.  For everything."  She does not have
to elaborate; if there could be any confusion about her meaning, it is
erased by the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes.  It has been
five long years since our journey together began, five years of
exultant victory and heartbreaking loss now brought to a close by
Priss' most triumphant performance of all.  I had words for this
meeting, things I wanted to tell her as she sets out on her own again,
but suddenly those words seem... insufficient.

      "...you're welcome, Priss," I finally answer her softly.  "There
are a great many things I could say... but there is no time.  You and
Leon have places to be, no?"  She smiles and actually blushes a bit at
that.  "Well, then, I should not keep you."  There is more I want to
say, more that needs to be said, but there will be other times for
that.  She may be leaving the fold, but it is not as if she will be out
of reach, is it?

     She nods slightly, and I realize that she is holding back tears.
Then, without warning, she hugs me tightly.  For a moment I am still,
uncertain how to respond to this spontaneous display, before finally I
give in to my own emotions and my arms close around her, holding her
closely to myself.  "Thank you," I whisper to her.  "Now, go... your
husband is waiting for you, I'm sure.  As is your future."

     She holds on for a moment longer before pulling back.  "It's hard
to let go," she says quietly.  "Y'know?"  Then, as if with an effort,
she turns away... and she is gone.

     I know... as certainly as anyone can know anything, I know.  For
me, this is a day of letting go, releasing all that has been my life
for the past five years.  Tomorrow will be a day for accepting that
which is new, for beginning again.  For today... I will remember what
has been, and in that I will be content.

--------------
End "Ten"

"Ten:  Do not get involved with a man."
              --from the Eleven Regulations of the Knight Sabers