Archive of Our Own

Utena gets back late.

She tiptoes past the crescent beds toward her dresser, avoiding looking in Anthy's direction, and pulls her pajamas out of the drawer. But when she touches the striped strap on her shoulder, her own hands feel alien to her-- like they belong to someone else-- and she freezes. The thought of changing suddenly makes her skin crawl, for reasons she doesn't understand.

Well. That's fine. Maybe she'll just sleep in her day clothes.

She turns and sees Anthy in bed, hair fanned across the pillow, and the floaty buzzing that had settled over her mind like a cloud for the whole drive home starts to lift as something sick twists in her gut. She crawls into bed and pulls the sheets over herself, hyper-aware of the sensation of the fabric against her skin, and tries to sleep. But her head thrums with static, and when she closes her eyes all she can see is flashing pavement.

"... Anthy?" Utena's voice rises from her side of the bed, soft and uncertain.

Anthy opens her eyes right away-- had she only been pretending to sleep?-- and looks at Utena in the blue-tinged dark. "Goodness. You're back late, Miss Utena. I was starting to worry," she says sweetly. Utena winces.

"I know, I'm sorry. Anthy, listen, I-- um," says Utena. She blinks a couple times, takes in a halting breath, looks at anything but Anthy's face. "I..."

"Yes, Miss Utena?" Anthy asks. Utena glances at her and immediately breaks.

"I... made lunch for us." Her voice is hollow. "It's an omelette."

"Oh, that sounds nice," says Anthy, expression unchanging. "Did my brother like the flowers?"

"The flowers..." Utena stares out the vaulted window at the stars, glittering like city lights. Something pangs in her chest and she looks away. "Um. Yes. Yes, I think so."

"Well then. I suppose that's good." Anthy smiles and closes her eyes again.

"Yeah."

The silence roars in Utena's ears. She can't stand it.

"Anthy?"

"Yes, Miss Utena?"

"Being the Rose Bride, and doing whatever the winners tell you to do... Doing whatever Saionji told you to do..." Utena searches for the right words. "How do-- why do you do that?"

Anthy blinks. "I am the Rose Bride. It is my role. I must do as the victor says."

"Well, okay, sure, you've said that before. It's just-- I never understood how you could be so passive and just let people do what they want with you, without even asking what you want. But I guess... it's easier, isn't it." Utena sits upright and stares straight ahead at the wall, gaze distant. "Easier to go along with it. To just let other people do what they want, when you don't know what you want."

Suffocating silence blankets the room again.

"I'm not sure I follow, Miss Utena," says Anthy softly.

Utena pulls the rest of her body upright and folds her arms around her legs, resting her chin on top of her knees. "Anthy," she starts, then pauses. "Do you ever... find it hard to... stop something? And, you want to say something, anything, but you don't know what to say or how to say it so you just-- shut off? Or-- oh, I don't know what I'm saying." She curls further into herself.

Anthy looks at Utena's half-hidden profile, her troubled expression. Her shoulders are normally so broad and proud. But hunched over from behind, body tucked inward like a closed flower bud, she looks... small.

"Well," Anthy stalls. She's not sure how to answer, so she asks a question that she already knows the answer to. "Where is this coming from?"

Utena shuts her eyes tight, sees a marked road surface flying by. Her eyes drift open again and she shakes her head. "N-never mind. It's stupid, I'm stupid, I--"

"Miss Utena," says Anthy quietly. She sits up from the bed and turns Utena's head toward her with a gentle touch, looks directly at her with those inscrutable green eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Utena's eyes open wide and she leans in toward Anthy earnestly. "What? No, of course not! I'd never think that! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to imply--"

Anthy puts both of her hands over Utena's. "Then please don't say it of yourself. It's terribly rude to speak about my friend like that," Anthy says. Her voice is as neutral as ever, but her touch is warm and real.

Utena's shame bursts out of her in a wave, and her face crumples. She pulls Anthy into a tight, desperate hug. The angle is awkward and uncomfortable, so Anthy shifts herself to get closer and tentatively wraps her own arms around Utena's shaking back.

"Anthy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Utena keeps whispering apologies into Anthy's neck, the words tumbling out of her mouth in an avalanche.

"Sorry? Whatever for?" Anthy murmurs. Utena doesn't answer.

They hold each other like that for a long time. Eventually Utena's shaking slows, then relaxes, and her uneven breath stabilizes. The collar of Anthy's nightgown beneath Utena's face is damp and getting cold in the night air. Anthy waits a while longer, then gently extricates herself and checks Utena's expression-- she's fallen asleep sitting up.

Anthy lays Utena down on her side of the bed, brushes a strand of hair out of the sleeping girl's face. As the sun peeks over the horizon, Anthy lies awake and puzzles over why the anger that usually simmers quietly within her has turned into a firestorm of hatred overnight.

A bitter smile crosses her face, and she wonders who the hate is really for.