Anthy felt their eyes all around her, looking at her as she walked alone, all by herself. Men looked upon her, as did women, most often in one another's company; there were those women who were by themselves who looked upon her, and they were looked upon in turn.
She would walk by them on the same sidewalk, the same street, sometimes less then an inch apart; Anthy felt a hitch in her shoulders in those moments, the subconscious force of her memories that had yet to fade away, maybe never would.
Then she saw a flash of pink and a hopeful smile and a hand waiting for her to take it, and with renewed vigor she continued her search for Utena, who had shown her her how to bring revolution to her world.
Every week on her day off, Isis would enact the ritual in her home. She recited the prayers, burned the incenses, and the vestige of the once-nameless Pharaoh would appear to her. The image had form enough that she could caress his cheek.
"Isis." He said to her every time, his voice heavy. "Are you really sure about this?"
"Atem." She held him in her arms tight to her chest. "My family's duty is fulfilled, let me indulge this much."
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She would walk by them on the same sidewalk, the same street, sometimes less then an inch apart; Anthy felt a hitch in her shoulders in those moments, the subconscious force of her memories that had yet to fade away, maybe never would.
Then she saw a flash of pink and a hopeful smile and a hand waiting for her to take it, and with renewed vigor she continued her search for Utena, who had shown her her how to bring revolution to her world.
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"Isis." He said to her every time, his voice heavy. "Are you really sure about this?"
"Atem." She held him in her arms tight to her chest. "My family's duty is fulfilled, let me indulge this much."
Atem always did and always would.
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