Today was the seventy-fifth day that Anthy Himemeya woke up outside of Ohtori Academy. Well, not exactly the seventy-fifth day—she had years of life beyond the surreal cage, but that felt so long ago now and she would rather move beyond it than lay in bed pondering whether it had been 4124 or 4125 days before it all tumbled and she spent her centuries looked away.
When she had left, it had taken only sixty five days until she spotted the familiar flash of pink hair, whatever forces in the world pushing them together once again. Anthy had not slept during that time, not really—she merely followed where the impulses took her until her feet wore down and joints ached. She had only stopped for food and water for Chu-Chu, who slept peacefully on her shoulder.
Seeing Utena, then, came as nothing short of a relief. Anthy knew that she should not just run towards Utena, should not expect things to be as they were. And yet, Utena still held onto some part of Anthy, keeping securely with her a real understanding of the former bride. All Anthy wanted was to take it back, that was the reason she told herself as she approached the other girl.
Utena had been there with open arms to welcome her to ‘the real world’. Anthy despised the way she had said it, as if all the years spent, the cycles of torture she endured in Ohtori were nothing more than mere facade. Of course, Anthy knew that hadn’t been Utena’s intentions—she was far too single-minded and honest to cut wounds that deep.
Today was the same as the others that had passed. Anthy awoke to the sound of the birds by the window. They sang the same tune each morning, a peaceful song but unnerving all the same. Did these birds not know of the horrors of this world? Or were they chirping in tune every morning as a way to drown our the numbing buzz of it all?
Utena never noticed though. She only woke up when the mood suited her, which averaged about 46 minutes after Anthy awoke. She didn’t know how she knew these things, but she would far prefer her memory clinging to these moments of ordinariness than anything else. It was the same part of Anthy that did not need to open her eyes as she woke to picture the way that Utena was laying beside her.
It had not even been a question when Anthy moved in where she would be staying. They had shared a bed before, well not quite but it had been close enough. And yet those days and nights had been marred by Akio. They could make better memories here, Anthy hoped.
In fact, Utena had been so keen on it that she just turned her own suitcase on its side and placed it next to the other side of the bed, with certainty and a glimmer of happiness saying, “This can be your nightstand until I can get a real one.”
A real one. That word stuck in Anthy’s mind with an unfamiliar pain. As she dressed for the day in the same clothes she has been wearing for over a week, she tossed around in her mind why that bothered her so. It was the same conversation she had in her head every morning, always reminded by the tipped over suitcase. By the time Utena woke up, Anthy still had not come to a final understanding. No matter, she would have tomorrow.
She counted down in her mind until a loud yawn interrupted the song birds, until the still-exhausted Utena stumbled out of their bedroom and into the small kitchenette. Anthy put the book she had been reading down in anticipation.
Three, two, one.
“Ouch,” Utena rubbed at her leg where she had run into the table’s corner yet again. Everything in the kitchen was too sharp, too many clean lines that were always a few degrees off from being proper. It was as if in the night someone had come in and moved each piece of furniture to a slight angle, barely noticeable until Utena came in every morning and only deepens the bruise blooming on her thigh.
Idly, Anthy wondered how hard she could press on the purple-kissed skin until Utena told her to stop. She shook her head at the thought, trying to wipe it out of her mind. Utena did not deserve that, not after being the reason Anthy finally left. She couldn’t help the thought coming to mind, though.
Utena sat beside her two steaming mugs of tea. Anthy mumbled out a thank you as she took it. Before long, Utena had finished her cup and was out of her seat again to make breakfast—yogurt and berries just like every other morning.
Anthy picked up her book again, eyes barely reading the words on the page before snapping it shut once more, “Utena.”
“Hm?” Utena glanced over her shoulder, the long pink hair seeming to be less vibrant and fantastical than it had in Ohtori. Maybe Anthy would spend her day staring into the mirror and comparing her reflection to the fractured memories she had of her dangerously perfect bridal glow. No, she shouldn’t do that. Perhaps she was just a tad too worried what differences she would find.
“What are you doing today?” Anthy had to remind herself again as she said it that she could chart her own path now, that her days were not determined by whoever’s blade was the quickest or consumed by her brother.
“Applying for more jobs I think, since the last one didn’t work out,” Utena prodded at her yogurt as she ate.
Anthy blinked a few times, remembering, “The sales clerkship—right.”
“How’d they expect me to sell a three grand of crochet pet leashes every month, I mean seriously,” Utena complained. Her face softened for a moment, a gentle hand coming to rest on Anthy’s elbow, “The yogurt okay?”
Looking down, Anthy hadn’t even realized that she hadn’t touched her breakfast yet. Besides, were those the leaves of a sapling already protruding from the raspberry? She let her arm stay in Utena’s touch, feeling selfish for a moment for wanting that gentleness so much, “Yes, it’s good. Thanks.”
Her hand stayed there, a reassurance as she continued on, “I was thinking about what I should apply for next. When I was getting groceries yesterday I notice a new building, or maybe I just didn’t notice it before. Either way, it’s a fencing studio. Maybe I could teach there?”
“Do you actually know fencing, Utena?” Anthy said plainly as she stirred the berries into her yogurt. Perhaps yogurt was a fertilizer—maybe she could grow a raspberry bush here in their kitchenette, maybe that is what she would do today. Before she could really decide, Chu-Chu had jumped up onto the table and plucked the raspberries from her dish, shoving them all until his little cheeks were filled. It brought a gentle smile to her face, and she didn’t even need to turn to know that Utena was smiling as well.
She felt a light pinch on her arm, an unexpected giggle bubbling from her chest as Utena feigned offense, “I would say that I’m not too bad with a blade.”
“But could you teach someone else?” Anthy stopped trying to grow her yogurt-raspberry-bush and placed her hand on top of Utena’s.
To her surprise, Utena lifted her hand, chapped lips brushing the back of Anthy’s knuckles, “I could always try teaching you first.”
She pulled her hand away only enough to cup Utena’s cheek. The offer was well-intentioned, almost everything Utena did was that way. But in the same way that calling this ‘the real world’ bore a hole inside of Anthy’s hard so too did this. It took far longer than she thought it would until Anthy found her voice again, soft but firm, “I’m done with blades, Utena, but thank you.”
Anthy watched as Utena’s eyes widened in understanding. She leaned into her palm, Anthy letting her thumb trace the outline of her cheekbone as she did, “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay,” is all that Anthy said, but in reality she wanted to chide Utena. For no, she hadn’t been thinking—most days it seemed like she never did, and most days that was a perfectly acceptable part of the other girl, endearing even. But Utena was not like that, and perhaps even worse than that, she would never know what those centuries felt like.
But she could not hold that blame over Utena forever, could not wish for the only person to have truly cared for her to have stood beside her and taken each blade through her heart every year. It would have been a kinder comfort, though, to know that the pain shared was equal and exact. She wanted someone else to hold her face and tell her that they understood it all—but nobody would, and it would be unreasonable to ask as much. Utena’s touch against her arm, the kiss to her hand, the nights spend in bed together with their backs just barely touching—that would suffice.
Anthy let her hand drop from Utena’s face, if the pair stayed like this in their hurt and longing for a scrape of comfort from each other, she didn’t know what would happen next. It always felt that way with Utena, as if she were standing on the precipice of something, but never knowing what laid on the other side until she had already fallen.
And she had done that once before, let herself in a more desperate place be flung to this outside world with Utena, driven off into the sunset as if it were some fairytale romance. But she had spent no more than a few hours outside of Ohtori before she had somehow landed back within the gates. It had been then that Anthy had spent a morning hacking at her long locks with a butterknife, trying to remember the hairstyle of the woman who had almost saved her. It was a while longer until she saw the familiar pink hair again, this time longer and flowing as her own had once been.
“Anthy?” Utena’s voice snapped her out of her memories. She had such a way of doing that, grounding the former bride into the moment. Idly, Anthy wondered if Utena even knew theses sorts of talents she possessed. Knowing Utena—likely not.
“I was just thinking is all,” Anthy preempted the question she knew was coming. Too many times already in the past week and a half had her mind slipped into memory.
Utena offered her a sad smile before standing, “Come to town with me today. I could use some help carrying groceries and I’ll stop by and get a job application for the fencing academy.”
Anthy smiled back, even though she knew Utena was lying. She needed no help in carry back a measly container of yogurt, carton of berries, and some frozen meals for the week. But if she wanted to spend time together, thought it best to get Anthy out of the house for once, well, Anthy really didn’t have a rebuttal to that.
“Sure.” Looking down Anthy noticed she was already dressed in clothes today which, considering she slept in them was no surprise, “I’m ready when you are.”
“Great,” Utena leaned over and gently kissed the top of her head before she dashed off to change. Anthy could feel the sensation of her lips lingering for the next few minutes. Maybe later she would ask the other girl why she did that, what that chaste intimacy had meant, but for now she would revel in the small moments. Chu-Chu twirled around on the table as Anthy thought; she cupped the small monkey in her hands and placed him back where he belonged on her shoulder.
As Utena came back, Anthy flushed at the sight. She was just as beautiful as she had been, but without the restraints of uniforms, the genuine loveliness of Utena only shone through more. Anthy stood and easily slipped her hand into Utena’s as they left the apartment together, for the first time in far too long. Yes, whatever they were together, she was happy enough.
The old radio that had been there since Utena had first moved in crackled on as the pair took their exit.
“Did you hear? Did you hear?”
“Do we have news finally? Have the tales of the eloped Prince and Princess tunneled their way from the boring outside world and found their way back here, where the sky is pink and the ground is purple?”
“No! In fact, the news is that there is no news at all!”
“You’re a tease beyond recompense.”
“I don’t think that means what you believe it does. And besides-who should listen to you anyway? You miss the Rose Bride and her Prince so much you’re seeing them everywhere you look!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
Static returned back to the radio, interrupting the charade until finally it is silence once again.
The colors of the outside world seemed to be so dull in comparison to Anthy’s memories of Ohtori. It was as if someone had taken the brightness and familiarity and covered it in a sheen of gray. Perhaps this is what her life had looked like before, but she tried not to consider that so seriously. It shouldn’t matter, not now when she was able to feel Utena’s hand in hers and the breeze blowing by them as they walked far too long to the town center.
After what felt like nearly an hour, Anrhy finally asked, “Why are we so far away?” Chu-Chu squeaked in agreement.
“It’s cheaper.” Utena’s response was immediate and held no twinge of bitterness. Shouldn’t she be upset about that, that they were so far removed from the heart of it all? Anthy certainly was. Even at Ohtori, it felt as though she was at least close to everything that happened, even if any attempt to meaningfully involve herself it changing it was shut down before she could even begin.
Finally the town came into sight, odd and yet beautiful all the same. Each building seemed older upon first glance but as Anthy squinted closer it was clear they were all recent construction, a layer of shiny plastic coating over what should have been crumbling buildings from centuries past. Someone had lacquered on the wear and tear to turn something that otherwise could have been perfect into something flawed. And yet still as the pair walked towards the center of town, Anthy could not help but find it beautiful.
“Over there!” Anthy followed Utena’s finger to a nearby corner where a small building stood. It didn’t appear to be much—probably as small as their apartment, and yet Utena’s face lit up which could only mean one thing.
“The fencing academy is there?”
“Yep!” And off Utena went in a light jog, hand still dragging Anthy with her. She stood back for a few moments and Anthy watched as something akin to awe and amazement crossed the other girl’s face, “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“It’s small,” Anthy responded flatly, still trying to figure out where on earth there was enough space for sparring practices here.
It was then she felt a pat on the top of her head, “C’mon, Anthy, small things can be wonderful too.”
Anthy felt her face flush at the comment, increasingly uncertain on what all these seemingly casual flirtations really meant. She would ask Utena later, she promised herself this.
In just a moment, though, Utena was at the door where scrawled out was a ‘Help Wanted! Apply here!” sign taped just above a single paper job application. A glitter pen was tied to the doorknob.
Kneeling down, Utena began filling out the information. Glancing over her shoulder, Anthy couldn’t help but giggle, “Utena, under skills you can’t simply put ‘everything’.”
“Why not?” Utena looked back with a pout on her face. How desperately Anthy wanted to wipe that look off of her with a pinch to the cheek and a kiss on the nose.
Before she could do either of those things, the door in front swung open. Nearly covered in shadow was a short figure wearing a fencing uniform, mask and all, not too dissimilar from what Juri had donned every day at Ohtori. This was different though, less clinically and pristinely white and instead a worn down cream with smudges of dirt across it. It looked truly used. Despite that, Chu-Chu crawled underneath Anthy’s collar in fear.
And Utena? Well, Utena had leapt in front of Anthy as soon as she had felt the woman’s presence. It was oddly comforting somehow to know that despite everything, Utena was still willing to risk so much for her—even here, where there seemed to be a suspicious lack of danger. Anthy brought her hand to rest on Utena’s outstretched arm, pushing down until they were simply holding hands.
The mysterious figure laughed, loud and boisterous. Removing the helmet, Anthy saw it was an older woman, with cropped, dull brown hair. She looked at ease as she leaned against the doorway and sized Utena up.
“Not afraid to fight?” She raised an eyebrow, smiling and waving high to where Anthy stood beside.
Anthy felt Utena’s hand squeeze her own as she spoke, “For her? No.”
“Well good thing I’m not going to fight for her.” The woman tilted her head almost comically far to the side as she laughed again. Anthy watched as she tried to pick apart the defiant young girls. She settled instead for plucking down the job application.
“Miss Utena is it?” She waited for Utena to nod. “I’m Madame Julie d’Aubigny, and I run this studio. You say you aren’t afraid to fight for her,” d’Aubigny gestured vaguely towards Anthy, “Butwhat about for fun? For money? For teaching?”
“She can try,” Anthy interjected, whispering when she felt Utena tense beside her, “Just talk to her.”
Utena’s eyes scanned hers, softening as she saw the resolve behind Anthy’s words, “Alright.” Her gaze never left Anthy’s until d’Aubigny cleared her throat. It brought bright red to the two girls’ cheeks, but the older woman said nothing.
“Come on in and let’s fight then,” Julie turned her back and left the old wooden door swinging on its rusted hinges.
The door led directly to a steep stairway. In another time, in another place, the stairwell would have seemed frightening. After all, it was crooked stones haphazardly laid atop one another and a few dimming lights leading the way. But for Anthy, somehow the darkness and closeness of it all felt far more comforting than the overwhelming light and supposed vastness of Ohtori. It seemed as though Utena felt the same, as Anthy felt the tension leave from her hand as they walked.
It was barely a minute later when they reached a door like the one above, swinging open just the same. Utena crouched down to poke her head in through the door, Anthy’s own head resting atop hers. Inside felt both all too familiar and yet unusual all at once. Large columns lined the perimeter of the large room. Scaffolding still sat upright against the farthest wall, a clear sign that although the room was tinged a gray and brown, it was all new construction. Looking over to the right, Anthy could see a large but dim stained glass mural of a woman in an extravagant wig and ample blue ballgown in front of a crowd. Was this an opera of some kind?
“Look!” Utena reached up and turned Anthy’s face towards the other direction where she could see a similar stained glass mural there. It was certainly the same woman, wig abandoned at the corner of the piece. She now stood though in men’s attire with a blade in her hand. Anthy could practically feel Utena buzzing with excitement below her.
The door opened fully all of a sudden and the two girls tumbled down onto the red velvet floor. Julie stood above them with the blade on her hip and laughing riotously.
Once the pair were standing again, d’Aubigny nodded her head backwards where a small door was, “Go change into a uniform there and choose your blade. We can get started.”
Anthy watched as Utena steeled herself and locked her jaw. No, this was not the same danger or threat as fighting the Student Council and yet the fire burning beneath her eyes seemed all too familiar.
As the door shut behind Utena, Anthy stood for a moment in silence with the Madame before finally asking, “So why did you choose those murals?”
d’Aubigny paused for a moment before Anthy saw a sense of peace wash over her expression, “It’s a story I hold dear, that’s all.”
Anthy knew better than to press the matter further. Instead, she chose to stare at the murals longer until the glass seemed to warp and take a life of its own, until it appeared that the opera singer turned knight was before her now and—
“I’m ready,” Utena’s voice snapped her back to reality. Dressed in a similarly dingy attire to Julie, Utena had never seemed so ready to fight. Yes, she had the drive and the desire to fight back in the clinically clean cage, but the uniform was always a reminder of who she was in the grand scheme of it all. Now she stood in the same clothes, only marked by a bit of pink hair that spilled out beneath the fencing mask, and by her skill.
d’Aubigny strode across the floor to stand just far enough away from where Utena had planted her feet. With an exaggerative flick of the wrist, the fencing master settled into position, her free hand goading the young woman on, “Show me what you’re made of, Utena.”
Before the final syllable was out, Utena had lunged forward with her blade aimed to the heart. Anthy couldn’t help but remember it was the same place the roses had once been pinned—even now Utena fought as if she were still fighting for Anthy. The attack was parried easily, though, Julie was casual in the way she beat back the attack. She disengaged from the fight for a moment, as if trying to assess exactly how Utena fought.
It took just a few seconds later before Utena lunged again, a bout of back and forth beginning between the two fighters.
Anthy couldn’t help but find herself struck by the difference of watching Utena fight now. No longer was there the creeping anxiety that weighed her shoulders down. No, instead she could watch the way that Utena held her blade so gently, the way she attacked with such ferocity. She could simply now appreciate the pure elegance and grace of it all. Perhaps this had been why Utena was so interested in this job—maybe she approached fighting with a pure sense of love, not the necessity and fear that consumed Anthy whenever a blade approached her.
The former bride let her mind wander for a moment, wondering how the dulled fencing foils would have felt in her back, whether she would have minded so much if the one thrusting them through her muscle had been Utena. She had let herself be brutalized for the false love of Akio, why not the real affection she held for Utena?
Anthy shook the thought away, there was no point in dwelling in such morose and tragic matters anymore, not when they had escaped. She trained her eyes back again to the fight, now noticing how visibly tired the two duelists looked from the last bout. Their postures both slouched forwards, arms holding the blade up lower than usual. How long had Anthy been thinking? She couldn’t say.
Utena re-engaged and struck again, or seemingly had. It had been quite the convincing feint, the blade then traveling under Julie’s eye-line and tapping her gently on the toe. Was the fight over now? Anthy wasn’t entirely sure.
That was until Chu-Chu crawled out from the collar of her shirt and started squeaking. As if hearing the little chirps, both duelists started laughing. Each removed their masks and shook each others hands. Utena’s face was flushed from the sparring match, and Anthy found herself staring at the way her cheeks were tinged a pink as beautiful as her hair.
Words were exchanged between the two fighters, too quiet for Anthy to hear. That mattered very little when moments later Anthy found herself lifted up into the air by strong arms and a squeal of joy.
Looking down from where she was still lifted in Utena’s arms, she smiled, “So should I be calling you Professor Utena now?”
Utena’s laughter rang out again as she set Anthy down, “No that sounds way too stuffy.” The pair still stood for a moment, so close it was nearly an embrace before Utena finally stepped away, “I’m gonna go change.”
Anthy nodded, still watching as Utena jogged out from the room. It was good to see her this energized again, to see the fire and vibrancy come back to her, to see fighting not out of desperation but enjoyment.
She was torn from her thoughts by Julie’s voice beside her, “So what about you?”
“Oh, I don’t fight,” Anthy waved her hands in front of her face, imagining for a moment holding a sword like that and a chill crawled down her spine.
“No, not that,” d’Aubigny corrected, her face softening as if she had peered in through Anthy’s mind to see the fear lingering under her placid expression, “I meant a job. My wife owns a restaurant around the corner and she’s always looking to hire some people to train up.”
“Oh, I can’t cook either,” Anthy stifled a laugh as she recalled trying to cook in Ohtori—all burnt edges or too much salt or a billowing steam coming off of what had meant to be a cold dish. It had always been an expectation that she would learn to excel in her bridal duties and by accident or maybe it had been sheer willpower alone, Anthy had rejected her culinary education.
“She’s looking for someone on the business side, learn the finances all of that. Don’t worry you wouldn’t need to even touch an oven,” Julie didn’t hesitate before continuing on, “I’ll let her know you and Utena will stop by in two days. Utena’ll be coming here for her first day so I imagine that would be most convenient?”
Anthy nodded, “Thank you.” The idea of having a job, contributing something made her feel better somehow. She had something, no matter how small, that she could work towards, something to strive to that she had chosen for herself.
Utena barreled back into the room like a rose-hued hurricane. She thanked d’Aubigny profusely the older woman nearly had to force the pair back out, telling them to go home and rest for their new jobs.
It took until they reached the top of the stairs before Utena realized, her eyes widening with happiness, “You too?”
“Not here, but around the corner,” Anthy slipped her hand in the other girl’s, “Perhaps I’ll become a finance expert and find ways for us to spend all of our money on frivolous things.”
Utena laughed and squeezed her hand, “I don’t know what half of that meant.”
Anthy didn’t bother clarifying, only giggling to herself as they began the long walk back to an apartment that she knew would somehow feel brighter.
The bell of one of the nearby shops rang out, the music manifesting an image on its golden exterior.
“Did you hear? Did you hear?”
“Don’t tell me you’re only going to be a tease again. I don’t want to hear anything unless its true! La-la-la-la-la~”
“Oh, how are you going to hear if you keep plugging your ears like that?”
“Easily. La-la-la-la-la~”
“Then I suppose you don’t want to hear about the dear Prince and Bride are building a home together.”
“A home?”
“A home!”
“With bricks and all?”
“Brick and all—bricks of embraces and glances.”
“Ooo I’ve never heard of those bricks before! Do you think we can find some around here?”
“Maybe we just haven’t looked hard enough.”
The bell stopped its ringing and silence fell across the town once more.
It was approaching evening by the time the pair returned back home, both should have been exhausted but Anthy could still feel the energy thrumming through her bones. She had gone outside today and not only that, she had watched Utena fight, and won a job of her own. It was the busiest day she had since leaving the Academy, and if this is what her future was meant to be moving forward, Anthy would finally let herself feel a twinge of hope.
“It was a nice day, Anthy,” Utena stopped walking a few feet from the front door, a wistful look painted across her face, “Thanks for coming.”
Chu-Chu popped out again from Anthy’s collar again, squealing as if to say ‘What about me?’
Utena, fluent in Chu-Chu reached out and pet him on the head, “You too, little man.” With that praise, Chu-Chu was off, scurrying underneath the door to their home.
Neither girl followed, though. Instead they still stayed looking at each other with hands intertwined. The way Utena’s eyes shone made Anthy want to do something—anything. She wanted to step beyond the unspoken blurred line between what they were and what they both wanted to be. She felt for the first time since leave Ohtori that she wanted to be brave.
So she lifted their intertwined fingers, leaving a light kiss to the back of Utena’s knuckles, the same way Utena had done for her, “I’d go where you ask.”
Looking up at the other girl, she watched Utena’s face turn a bright red as she was thoroughly flustered. Anthy couldn’t help but wonder if she looked the same when Utena’s kindness was directed towards her. She could understand, then, why the other girl had doted on her like this—it was intoxicating to see her cheeks this pink and eyes shining.
“Oh Anthy,” Utena’s hand came to cup her jaw with a light laugh and small shake of the head, “You don’t have to do things the way I would. Just be yourself.”
‘Just be yourself’, what a foolishly simple phrase and yet one that made Anthy’s heart tighten. She was still figuring it out, after all, only 75 days removed from eons of a different identity. But there were moments during her time at Ohtori that Anthy felt like herself, and nearly all revolved around the woman beside her.
So she chose one of those memories, one where she had longer hair and had been more daring. One where she could feel at ease sweeping her arm around Utena’s waist and pulling her down into a low dip, no space between where their lips met.
And Utena only smiled and knew Anthy far too well as she whispered, “There’s the real you.”
Real. The word stung less now.