On Unions Civil and Otherwise

by Kita-Ysabell

Ten years have passed- ten years to the day- and when Utena and Anthy's engagement party goes somewhat awry, Saionji finds that some things are not so easily forgotten, and faces the bitter possibility that to make good his escape from Ohtori, he must rescue his oldest and closest friend- whether that friend wants to be rescued or not.

21. So You Still Do That

Morning and evening, when Saionji offered prayers and food to the kamidana installed high on the wall of the apartment's main room, he often saw Touga watching him. In those early days, he watched with an air of disdain, like a cultured foreigner observing the primitive practices of the natives. This, Saionji stubbornly ignored.

But as time went on, Touga's manner took on a wistful air. He made himself less conspicuous as he watched, staying further away, and though he had never interrupted, his earlier silence had seemed louder. From time to time, Saionji wondered if Touga would join him, but the latter continued to keep his distance.

You know this, Saionji thought, when he turned one morning and saw Touga looking on with an expression of utter loss. I know you know this. I remember when we used to visit that shrine together. But he said nothing, and made to go about his day.

"So you still do that," Touga remarked.

Saionji looked back at Touga, confused. Of course he still did that. He had been doing that the whole time that Touga had been living with him, and Touga had been lingering around watching him do it. If Touga had said that the first time he had observed Saionji's execution of the daily rituals, it would have made sense, but not after all those times.

"A certain honest and intelligent young man once told me the story of how he ceased to be a believer. At the age of twenty-seven, while taking shelter for a night during a hunting trip, he knelt down to pray in the evening, as had been his custom since childhood. His older brother, who had accompanied him on the trip, was lying down on some straw and watching him. When the young man had finished and was getting ready to lie down, his brother said to him, 'So you still do that.' And they said nothing more to each other."

"What are you going on about?" asked Saionji, growing annoyed.

"It's Tolstoy, Confession," Touga replied, the arrogant hint of a smile on his lips.

"Of course it is," Saionji snapped back, bitterly enough that he knew that he would regret it later, and brushed past Touga on his way to continue his daily routine.