Out of Place
Summary: It would have been like Kanae's own fairy tale, except for her fiance's odd sister.
Disclaimer: Shoujo Kakumei Utena and associated characters are (c) Be-Papas, etc.
Kanae had fallen in love at the very first.
Akio had led Kanae upstairs to the planetarium to find dinner prepared and the lights dimmed. They sat, and Akio set the stars on a slow spin around them. In the air drifted the faint scent of roses. Kanae had been overwhelmed.
On the white tablecloth had been candelabra with three candles. Akio had put his hands under his chin, gazed at her between candles, and spoken to her in his low and beautiful voice. He had smiled at her, and his smile was beautiful too.
Kanae did not remember their conversation. Amid the dizzying stars, alone with Akio, she felt like she was in a dream, or on a different world, and whichever it was, she did not want to leave. She nodded to Akio, agreed to what he had asked.
Not long after, they were engaged. It was straightforward enough. Akio was to take over the position of school chairman-what could be more perfect than his marrying the previous school chairman’s daughter and assuming the name of Ohtori? Her father was more than happy to welcome a gentleman like Akio into their family, and her mother was quite charmed by him. Kanae was delighted. She dreamed that the inevitability of their match was destiny. She knew it was silly, but as a young woman engaged she had the right to dream, didn’t she?
But with every fairy tale came a curse, and in Kanae’s her name was Anthy.
Kanae had pitied Anthy from the very first.
Beside Akio on the white couch in the planetarium, Kanae had leaned against his shoulder, enjoying a quiet moment with her fiancé. This was all she needed, she told her herself.
“Kanae,” Akio said, remembering something. “You’ll be able to meet my sister tomorrow.”
“Oh, I do look forward to meeting her,” said Kanae. She was vaguely aware that Akio had a younger sister who attended the school, but in the whirlwind of the engagement Kanae must have forgotten her name.
“Yes…about my sister…I have a request, Kanae.”
“Oh, anything!” said Kanae, eager to help her fiancé. She tightened her embrace on his arm.
Akio said, “You must understand, my sister doesn’t have many friends. I would appreciate it if you tried you best to get along with her.”
“I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl,” Kanae assured him. “But of course I will.” Kanae was good at getting along with people.
And Kanae had been sure that she would get along with Anthy. Akio, her fiancé, was so charming, so graceful, so adept at moving through the social circles of Ohtori. Surely his sister, his own blood, resembled him in some ways.
“Would you like to see a picture of her?” asked Akio, sounding less serious.
“Yes!” Kanae said eagerly, sitting up.
Akio pulled a creased photo from his pocket. What a thoughtful brother, to carry her photo around with him! Did he have one of Kanae’s photos somewhere on his person, she wondered?
Kanae took the small photo. In appearance, at least, Anthy did resemble Akio. She was smiling up at the camera against the backdrop of a forest. “She seems to have blinked,” said Kanae.
“I know. Cute, isn’t it?”
Kanae imagined that Anthy was a sweet girl. She was probably too shy to have made many friends, the poor thing. Perhaps Kanae could help her.
Kanae was determined to do her very best. When Akio introduced Kanae to his sister in the foyer of the chairman’s tower the next day, Kanae acted as kindly as she could, careful of how she acted towards this delicate girl. “It’s nice to meet you, Anthy,” she said, bowing.
Anthy nodded in polite reply, saying nothing.
Kanae had worn her delicate white scarf, a gift from her father, for this special occasion. Smiling, she unwrapped the scarf and handed it over to Anthy. An offering of friendship. “Anthy, dear, I’d like you to borrow this. It’s a very rare…”
The girl had taken it from her. Barely looking at it, she removed her glasses, wiped them on the scarf, and put her glasses back on. And then, smiling, she had wordlessly handed the scarf back to Kanae. She blinked up at Kanae with her deep green eyes.
And suddenly Akio’s sister had seemed alien. Kanae had realized with a thrill of horror that her own sister-in-law was opaque to her. It was not her shyness that kept people from her, but her strangeness. This was the girl who was a central part of Kanae’s future with Akio.
The princess had never found her happy ending without a trial first. Kanae determined to be as kind and as understanding as she could be, so that she could connect with Anthy-for the sake of Akio and Kanae’s future.
On occasion Anthy would come over and the three of them would have dinner together, Akio at the head of a long table, Kanae and Anthy on each side.
“I find the constellation Andromeda to have a particular allure,” Akio was saying one evening, when the phone rang and he excused himself. During their dinners he compensated for his sister’s silences with wit and charm.
Kanae tried her best. The weather was bad today, she would say to Anthy conversationally, or I believe the school is improving. But the girl’s strange calm flustered her. Kanae couldn’t remember what meaningless things had left her lips during the several dinners they’d shared, and with Akio in the other room Kanae felt more lost than before.
Come save me, she thought. But he did not quickly return with an apology. He must have had important business to discuss. Realizing this, Kanae felt foolish for wishing Akio back-all Kanae had to do was carry on a conversation with another human being. Something she had done adroitly at her parents’ parties for years.
Her brother absent, Anthy had stared at her plate and lifted forkfuls of macaroni slowly to her mouth. Kanae had felt the silence driving her crazy.
“Anthy,” she said sweetly, and it took her near-impossible effort to speak, “I was walking by your rose garden the other day. I do so admire the work you’ve done in the greenhouse.” This was wholly true. Kanae thought the roses Anthy tended beautiful.
Gardening was a normal hobby, wasn’t it? Kanae was desperate to take this as evidence that Anthy, too, had the capability to be normal, to become a blessing and not a curse. “It’s a lovely greenhouse,” she continued, unsure of where her words were leading.
Anthy stopped eating and sat up straight. She did not look at Kanae, though; instead she looked at her filthy little pet monkey, which was sitting on the table next to the salad bowl chewing on a walnut. Anthy made no reply, forcing Kanae to fill the silence.
“I wouldn’t mind spending time there sometime,” she said.
The gaze that Anthy turned on her then had been like nothing Kanae had seen before. A glazed emptiness or an all-encompassing pain-Kanae couldn’t tell which she saw, but she recoiled from it. She could not relate to the look in Anthy’s eyes at all. As when she’d handed Anthy her scarf, Kanae’s feeling that she lacked any connection with Anthy, that they had anything in common, seemed impossibly strong. She and her fiancé’s sister were cut off from each other. Completely.
This girl can never be normal, Kanae thought, frightened. She’ll never fit in.
These thoughts and feelings whirled through Kanae’s head in an instant. Akio came back in. “I’m sorry,” he said, and mentioned something about a friend calling to report a serious incident at the school.
Anthy returned her attention to her plate.
“My, I do hope it’s been resolved,” Kanae said. She tripped over her words in relief that her fiancé had returned to her. Akio sat down and resumed eating. Kanae allowed a long enough pause for a change of topic. “I haven’t had macaroni in years, you know. I wonder why? I like macaroni.”
Akio nodded and laughed. During the second half of dinner, he told the tale of Proserpina, who had no constellation. Grateful for the story that filled what had been awkward silence, Kanae wanted to embrace him.
After all, it was the prince who fought through the trials, wasn’t it?
After that night, Kanae felt Anthy watching her whenever she was at Ohtori Academy. She never caught the girl at it, but she shuddered to feel the gaze of alien eyes. Sometimes Kanae passed Anthy when she walked through the pleasant school grounds. Kanae would glance at Anthy-subtly, since it was rude-and wonder how she could possibly fit into a world she so differed from.
At times Kanae saw Anthy conversing with-or, more often, listening too-members of the Student Council. Kanae wondered what business they had with such a strange and antisocial girl. One day she saw Saionji, the Student Council Vice President, yelling at Anthy in the greenhouse. Kanae almost paused, but shook her head and hurried on. I have to stop walking through this part of campus, thought Kanae. Although she of all people had the right to walk wherever she wanted or keep an eye on the other students! She was the former chairman’s daughter, the new chairman’s fiancée. An Ohtori through and through.
In math class, which was not even halfway done, Kanae rested her chin on her hand and put her elbow on her desk. Mind far from math or her fiancé’s sister, Kanae daydreamed about her upcoming wedding, dreamily considering and discarding possible dresses, cakes, hors d’ouevres. I want it to be like a fairy tale, she thought. But it will be no matter what, because Akio will be by my side. She smiled lazily.
She thought of bridesmaids for a moment. She hadn’t spoken with any of her friends for awhile, Kanae realized. She’d been too caught up in the engagement. And when she called her parents, she’d hardly been able to talk about anything but Akio. Why, she must seem quite a bore!
Kanae talked about all sorts of things with Akio. The school, the arts, the stars-the wedding too, of course. She’d mentioned the choice of wedding cake to Akio the night before. It was a harmless subject, but one that made her suddenly shy. Anthy had been with them-it was one of those dinners.
“I was thinking I’d leave that up to you, dear,” Akio had told Kanae.
Kanae blushed and softly said something about how she’d wanted them to choose it together.
“I think it would be interesting if there were a wedding cake that tasted like curry,” said Anthy out of nowhere.
Her brother laughed. “I’m thinking I might not come to your wedding,” he joked, and she smiled at him.
Kanae had privately wondered what man would want to marry a girl who wanted a curry-flavored wedding cake. But she said nothing. Akio was close to his sister. Anthy was an integral part of the Ohtori household, that much was clear.
Walking from math class in a reverie, Kanae’s steps took her on her usual detour that went by the greenhouse. Anthy would be there, as she always was at this time, with her cute little watering can and that vacant expression. It was bright out, surely good for roses. Kanae hefted her schoolbag up onto her shoulder and stopped at the edge of the open area. A crowd of girls in their uniform skirts streamed past her, chattering and taking no notice. (In Kanae’s mind their eyes were strange, their thoughts incomprehensible.)
Anthy was in the greenhouse, watering her flowers. She got on well with them, at least. As different as she was, Anthy had her place in the school. It would be odd for Anthy not to be in the greenhouse, thought Kanae.
It was almost like the alien girl was a part of the school.
Suddenly feeling out of place on the school grounds, Kanae, her eyes averted, hurried past the greenhouse. She turned to the chairman’s tower, to Akio, to her world. Her steps grew quicker as she thought of Anthy in the school behind her.
Never mind the school; it was an alien place. No place for Kanae. She would be graduating soon, anyway, and truly beginning her life with Akio! There, by Akio’s side, she would be safe.
The only problem was Anthy, an intruder in the dream that was by all rights Kanae’s. But surely she couldn’t win, not in Kanae’s tale.
Kanae barely remembered riding the elevator to her room on the topmost floor. Exhausted, her steps unsteady, she set her schoolbag down at the foot of her bed. She noticed her white scarf draped across the bed. Kanae took it in her hands and stroked it, thinking and thinking of how distant she was from the rest of the world.
This was where she belonged: in the tower.
Disclaimer: Shoujo Kakumei Utena and associated characters are (c) Be-Papas, etc.
Kanae had fallen in love at the very first.
Akio had led Kanae upstairs to the planetarium to find dinner prepared and the lights dimmed. They sat, and Akio set the stars on a slow spin around them. In the air drifted the faint scent of roses. Kanae had been overwhelmed.
On the white tablecloth had been candelabra with three candles. Akio had put his hands under his chin, gazed at her between candles, and spoken to her in his low and beautiful voice. He had smiled at her, and his smile was beautiful too.
Kanae did not remember their conversation. Amid the dizzying stars, alone with Akio, she felt like she was in a dream, or on a different world, and whichever it was, she did not want to leave. She nodded to Akio, agreed to what he had asked.
Not long after, they were engaged. It was straightforward enough. Akio was to take over the position of school chairman-what could be more perfect than his marrying the previous school chairman’s daughter and assuming the name of Ohtori? Her father was more than happy to welcome a gentleman like Akio into their family, and her mother was quite charmed by him. Kanae was delighted. She dreamed that the inevitability of their match was destiny. She knew it was silly, but as a young woman engaged she had the right to dream, didn’t she?
But with every fairy tale came a curse, and in Kanae’s her name was Anthy.
Kanae had pitied Anthy from the very first.
Beside Akio on the white couch in the planetarium, Kanae had leaned against his shoulder, enjoying a quiet moment with her fiancé. This was all she needed, she told her herself.
“Kanae,” Akio said, remembering something. “You’ll be able to meet my sister tomorrow.”
“Oh, I do look forward to meeting her,” said Kanae. She was vaguely aware that Akio had a younger sister who attended the school, but in the whirlwind of the engagement Kanae must have forgotten her name.
“Yes…about my sister…I have a request, Kanae.”
“Oh, anything!” said Kanae, eager to help her fiancé. She tightened her embrace on his arm.
Akio said, “You must understand, my sister doesn’t have many friends. I would appreciate it if you tried you best to get along with her.”
“I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl,” Kanae assured him. “But of course I will.” Kanae was good at getting along with people.
And Kanae had been sure that she would get along with Anthy. Akio, her fiancé, was so charming, so graceful, so adept at moving through the social circles of Ohtori. Surely his sister, his own blood, resembled him in some ways.
“Would you like to see a picture of her?” asked Akio, sounding less serious.
“Yes!” Kanae said eagerly, sitting up.
Akio pulled a creased photo from his pocket. What a thoughtful brother, to carry her photo around with him! Did he have one of Kanae’s photos somewhere on his person, she wondered?
Kanae took the small photo. In appearance, at least, Anthy did resemble Akio. She was smiling up at the camera against the backdrop of a forest. “She seems to have blinked,” said Kanae.
“I know. Cute, isn’t it?”
Kanae imagined that Anthy was a sweet girl. She was probably too shy to have made many friends, the poor thing. Perhaps Kanae could help her.
Kanae was determined to do her very best. When Akio introduced Kanae to his sister in the foyer of the chairman’s tower the next day, Kanae acted as kindly as she could, careful of how she acted towards this delicate girl. “It’s nice to meet you, Anthy,” she said, bowing.
Anthy nodded in polite reply, saying nothing.
Kanae had worn her delicate white scarf, a gift from her father, for this special occasion. Smiling, she unwrapped the scarf and handed it over to Anthy. An offering of friendship. “Anthy, dear, I’d like you to borrow this. It’s a very rare…”
The girl had taken it from her. Barely looking at it, she removed her glasses, wiped them on the scarf, and put her glasses back on. And then, smiling, she had wordlessly handed the scarf back to Kanae. She blinked up at Kanae with her deep green eyes.
And suddenly Akio’s sister had seemed alien. Kanae had realized with a thrill of horror that her own sister-in-law was opaque to her. It was not her shyness that kept people from her, but her strangeness. This was the girl who was a central part of Kanae’s future with Akio.
The princess had never found her happy ending without a trial first. Kanae determined to be as kind and as understanding as she could be, so that she could connect with Anthy-for the sake of Akio and Kanae’s future.
On occasion Anthy would come over and the three of them would have dinner together, Akio at the head of a long table, Kanae and Anthy on each side.
“I find the constellation Andromeda to have a particular allure,” Akio was saying one evening, when the phone rang and he excused himself. During their dinners he compensated for his sister’s silences with wit and charm.
Kanae tried her best. The weather was bad today, she would say to Anthy conversationally, or I believe the school is improving. But the girl’s strange calm flustered her. Kanae couldn’t remember what meaningless things had left her lips during the several dinners they’d shared, and with Akio in the other room Kanae felt more lost than before.
Come save me, she thought. But he did not quickly return with an apology. He must have had important business to discuss. Realizing this, Kanae felt foolish for wishing Akio back-all Kanae had to do was carry on a conversation with another human being. Something she had done adroitly at her parents’ parties for years.
Her brother absent, Anthy had stared at her plate and lifted forkfuls of macaroni slowly to her mouth. Kanae had felt the silence driving her crazy.
“Anthy,” she said sweetly, and it took her near-impossible effort to speak, “I was walking by your rose garden the other day. I do so admire the work you’ve done in the greenhouse.” This was wholly true. Kanae thought the roses Anthy tended beautiful.
Gardening was a normal hobby, wasn’t it? Kanae was desperate to take this as evidence that Anthy, too, had the capability to be normal, to become a blessing and not a curse. “It’s a lovely greenhouse,” she continued, unsure of where her words were leading.
Anthy stopped eating and sat up straight. She did not look at Kanae, though; instead she looked at her filthy little pet monkey, which was sitting on the table next to the salad bowl chewing on a walnut. Anthy made no reply, forcing Kanae to fill the silence.
“I wouldn’t mind spending time there sometime,” she said.
The gaze that Anthy turned on her then had been like nothing Kanae had seen before. A glazed emptiness or an all-encompassing pain-Kanae couldn’t tell which she saw, but she recoiled from it. She could not relate to the look in Anthy’s eyes at all. As when she’d handed Anthy her scarf, Kanae’s feeling that she lacked any connection with Anthy, that they had anything in common, seemed impossibly strong. She and her fiancé’s sister were cut off from each other. Completely.
This girl can never be normal, Kanae thought, frightened. She’ll never fit in.
These thoughts and feelings whirled through Kanae’s head in an instant. Akio came back in. “I’m sorry,” he said, and mentioned something about a friend calling to report a serious incident at the school.
Anthy returned her attention to her plate.
“My, I do hope it’s been resolved,” Kanae said. She tripped over her words in relief that her fiancé had returned to her. Akio sat down and resumed eating. Kanae allowed a long enough pause for a change of topic. “I haven’t had macaroni in years, you know. I wonder why? I like macaroni.”
Akio nodded and laughed. During the second half of dinner, he told the tale of Proserpina, who had no constellation. Grateful for the story that filled what had been awkward silence, Kanae wanted to embrace him.
After all, it was the prince who fought through the trials, wasn’t it?
After that night, Kanae felt Anthy watching her whenever she was at Ohtori Academy. She never caught the girl at it, but she shuddered to feel the gaze of alien eyes. Sometimes Kanae passed Anthy when she walked through the pleasant school grounds. Kanae would glance at Anthy-subtly, since it was rude-and wonder how she could possibly fit into a world she so differed from.
At times Kanae saw Anthy conversing with-or, more often, listening too-members of the Student Council. Kanae wondered what business they had with such a strange and antisocial girl. One day she saw Saionji, the Student Council Vice President, yelling at Anthy in the greenhouse. Kanae almost paused, but shook her head and hurried on. I have to stop walking through this part of campus, thought Kanae. Although she of all people had the right to walk wherever she wanted or keep an eye on the other students! She was the former chairman’s daughter, the new chairman’s fiancée. An Ohtori through and through.
In math class, which was not even halfway done, Kanae rested her chin on her hand and put her elbow on her desk. Mind far from math or her fiancé’s sister, Kanae daydreamed about her upcoming wedding, dreamily considering and discarding possible dresses, cakes, hors d’ouevres. I want it to be like a fairy tale, she thought. But it will be no matter what, because Akio will be by my side. She smiled lazily.
She thought of bridesmaids for a moment. She hadn’t spoken with any of her friends for awhile, Kanae realized. She’d been too caught up in the engagement. And when she called her parents, she’d hardly been able to talk about anything but Akio. Why, she must seem quite a bore!
Kanae talked about all sorts of things with Akio. The school, the arts, the stars-the wedding too, of course. She’d mentioned the choice of wedding cake to Akio the night before. It was a harmless subject, but one that made her suddenly shy. Anthy had been with them-it was one of those dinners.
“I was thinking I’d leave that up to you, dear,” Akio had told Kanae.
Kanae blushed and softly said something about how she’d wanted them to choose it together.
“I think it would be interesting if there were a wedding cake that tasted like curry,” said Anthy out of nowhere.
Her brother laughed. “I’m thinking I might not come to your wedding,” he joked, and she smiled at him.
Kanae had privately wondered what man would want to marry a girl who wanted a curry-flavored wedding cake. But she said nothing. Akio was close to his sister. Anthy was an integral part of the Ohtori household, that much was clear.
Walking from math class in a reverie, Kanae’s steps took her on her usual detour that went by the greenhouse. Anthy would be there, as she always was at this time, with her cute little watering can and that vacant expression. It was bright out, surely good for roses. Kanae hefted her schoolbag up onto her shoulder and stopped at the edge of the open area. A crowd of girls in their uniform skirts streamed past her, chattering and taking no notice. (In Kanae’s mind their eyes were strange, their thoughts incomprehensible.)
Anthy was in the greenhouse, watering her flowers. She got on well with them, at least. As different as she was, Anthy had her place in the school. It would be odd for Anthy not to be in the greenhouse, thought Kanae.
It was almost like the alien girl was a part of the school.
Suddenly feeling out of place on the school grounds, Kanae, her eyes averted, hurried past the greenhouse. She turned to the chairman’s tower, to Akio, to her world. Her steps grew quicker as she thought of Anthy in the school behind her.
Never mind the school; it was an alien place. No place for Kanae. She would be graduating soon, anyway, and truly beginning her life with Akio! There, by Akio’s side, she would be safe.
The only problem was Anthy, an intruder in the dream that was by all rights Kanae’s. But surely she couldn’t win, not in Kanae’s tale.
Kanae barely remembered riding the elevator to her room on the topmost floor. Exhausted, her steps unsteady, she set her schoolbag down at the foot of her bed. She noticed her white scarf draped across the bed. Kanae took it in her hands and stroked it, thinking and thinking of how distant she was from the rest of the world.
This was where she belonged: in the tower.