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invoking_uraniaTitle: The Ones who Walked Away From Ohtori
Fandom: Revolutionary Girl Utena
Rating: G
Genre: Vignette
Words: 700
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for the end of the TV series, and I might have gotten details wrong. Title comes from "The Ones Who Walked Away from Omelas" by Ursela K. LeGuin.
Summary: The thing about first steps is all the steps after that.
Disclaimer: Revolutionary Girl Utena is copyright Chiho Saito/Kunihiko Ikuhara/Yōji Enokido/J.C.Staff and this derivative work was created without permission.
She understands the basics: finding a job, and an apartment, furnishing it, paying for utilities and groceries. It's the little things she never considered before now.
Buying new spices for the spice rack every time she cooks. A roll to hold the toilet paper and curtain rods, and curtains. Finding a spot to do the wash. Things she'd never had to consider before, as they were part of dorm life.
And evenings spent with Chuchu in the quiet of an space that was totally hers, as long as they kept paying their rent.
* * *
If she can, she busies herself inside in the afternoons and on Sundays. She regrets not moving far from Ohtori when she left, but at the time it seemed like the best choice. She had enough novelty to deal with without changing locations; the view from adulthood's country is different enough.
But seeing the students in their uniforms, carelessly buying snacks in twos and threes, made her hands shake and her vision were. And the worst part was that she couldn't tell if it was a flashback to the bad times, or regret for the good.
* * *
She knows others must have left Ohtori, despite the magic of the place that made the days and weeks blur together. Most of the students who never were Rose duelists passed through the halls as if it was a normal school. Never questioning the odd things that lurk at the margins of their school experience.
Utena had mentioned a friend of her aunt, an alumnus who had identified the school for her from 'her prince's' clues sent every year. She had wondered if it was a coincidence: her brother would have made sure that all paths lead to Ohtori.
She starts a letter to Utena's aunt, identifying herself as a school friend, asking a few questions. She actually starts several letters, but throws them away, even the words looking unreal when set to paper. Perhaps Ohtori alumni would be able to understand, to read between the strokes of her chatter.
In the end, she writes it in ballpoint pen on cheap stationary, addressing it from memory of Utena's own letters. The act makes it feel the realest it's been in ages, and she has to flee to anchor herself in city streets.
* * *
The townspeople smile at the bording school students from far away, but their children, in their own uniforms of black or blue, do not socialize with the outsiders.
She finds herself looking for duelists' rings on hands, not sure what to do if she finds one, that her brother has restarted the duels. She was counting on that impossibility.
If he had, could she walk back in to stop it, or would it be a trap she could not escape the second time without the blood price paid again? Could she even find the courage to try?
* * *
Two letters arrive on the same day. The first is from Utena's aunt, giving her a name and address, and warm feelings towards a friend of her niece's. It feels warm and utterly mundane, for all that it comes from far overseas.
The second is handwritten and hand delivered. It is from Wakaba, asking some questions about memories and to meet over tea. No details or anything definite, and it she can see the self-consciousness in the words. And something else, something deeper. Perhaps alumni can read between the strokes.
She thinks a long time about this.
~@~ * * * ~@~
Wakaba doesn't go to town alone on free days, but not today. Maybe she should have left some way to reply to her invitation; otherwise she'd just have tea and little cakes by herself. Way too many cakes.
She was about to ask for a box to bring them back to the girls at the dorm, when a tall, dark woman dressed in a business suit -- like how Wakaba imagined a typical career woman would look, but far more beautiful -- steps up to the table. "Wakaba? It's Anthy. I got your letter. Let's talk."
Fandom: Revolutionary Girl Utena
Rating: G
Genre: Vignette
Words: 700
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for the end of the TV series, and I might have gotten details wrong. Title comes from "The Ones Who Walked Away from Omelas" by Ursela K. LeGuin.
Summary: The thing about first steps is all the steps after that.
Disclaimer: Revolutionary Girl Utena is copyright Chiho Saito/Kunihiko Ikuhara/Yōji Enokido/J.C.Staff and this derivative work was created without permission.
She understands the basics: finding a job, and an apartment, furnishing it, paying for utilities and groceries. It's the little things she never considered before now.
Buying new spices for the spice rack every time she cooks. A roll to hold the toilet paper and curtain rods, and curtains. Finding a spot to do the wash. Things she'd never had to consider before, as they were part of dorm life.
And evenings spent with Chuchu in the quiet of an space that was totally hers, as long as they kept paying their rent.
* * *
If she can, she busies herself inside in the afternoons and on Sundays. She regrets not moving far from Ohtori when she left, but at the time it seemed like the best choice. She had enough novelty to deal with without changing locations; the view from adulthood's country is different enough.
But seeing the students in their uniforms, carelessly buying snacks in twos and threes, made her hands shake and her vision were. And the worst part was that she couldn't tell if it was a flashback to the bad times, or regret for the good.
* * *
She knows others must have left Ohtori, despite the magic of the place that made the days and weeks blur together. Most of the students who never were Rose duelists passed through the halls as if it was a normal school. Never questioning the odd things that lurk at the margins of their school experience.
Utena had mentioned a friend of her aunt, an alumnus who had identified the school for her from 'her prince's' clues sent every year. She had wondered if it was a coincidence: her brother would have made sure that all paths lead to Ohtori.
She starts a letter to Utena's aunt, identifying herself as a school friend, asking a few questions. She actually starts several letters, but throws them away, even the words looking unreal when set to paper. Perhaps Ohtori alumni would be able to understand, to read between the strokes of her chatter.
In the end, she writes it in ballpoint pen on cheap stationary, addressing it from memory of Utena's own letters. The act makes it feel the realest it's been in ages, and she has to flee to anchor herself in city streets.
* * *
The townspeople smile at the bording school students from far away, but their children, in their own uniforms of black or blue, do not socialize with the outsiders.
She finds herself looking for duelists' rings on hands, not sure what to do if she finds one, that her brother has restarted the duels. She was counting on that impossibility.
If he had, could she walk back in to stop it, or would it be a trap she could not escape the second time without the blood price paid again? Could she even find the courage to try?
* * *
Two letters arrive on the same day. The first is from Utena's aunt, giving her a name and address, and warm feelings towards a friend of her niece's. It feels warm and utterly mundane, for all that it comes from far overseas.
The second is handwritten and hand delivered. It is from Wakaba, asking some questions about memories and to meet over tea. No details or anything definite, and it she can see the self-consciousness in the words. And something else, something deeper. Perhaps alumni can read between the strokes.
She thinks a long time about this.
~@~ * * * ~@~
Wakaba doesn't go to town alone on free days, but not today. Maybe she should have left some way to reply to her invitation; otherwise she'd just have tea and little cakes by herself. Way too many cakes.
She was about to ask for a box to bring them back to the girls at the dorm, when a tall, dark woman dressed in a business suit -- like how Wakaba imagined a typical career woman would look, but far more beautiful -- steps up to the table. "Wakaba? It's Anthy. I got your letter. Let's talk."