Title: Conversation: Night at the Ends of the World
Author: Utenakun
Series: Revolutionary Girl Utena
Summary: A moment long after the end.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Utena, Anthy, Akio, Dios-- these are not my characters. Originally, anyway.
Notes: Don't read unless you've finished the series, not so much for the spoilers but because it'll confuse the ever-loving jesus out of you.
_
"Oh my God!"
"Good evening, brother."
A pause for him to gather his wits. "What-- what are you doing here?"
"Utena has died."
A ghost of his old triumphant smirk. "Oh, I see."
"No. You do not. She died eight years ago."
"Really. And here you don't look a day over thirteen."
"I aged when I was with her. After she died, I-- returned to what was most comfortable for me. And small wonder, considering how much time I spent in it." A slight narrowing of her eyes, a small turn of her head. "You gave up on maintaining the school. Despite keeping the appearance of Chairman."
He shudders. "I tried. But-- they graduated!" He shrills out his betrayal and failure. "They left! And-- God-- I tried on the next class, for nearly fifty years, but it was gone. Over. You turned your back on me, sister, and it died."
"Just as you turned your back on me, for all the years I helped you!" She snaps, and there is an awkward, sullen silence as both consider years, perhaps centuries, of hurt.
She is the one to recover first. "But I knew that, anyway. After Utena died, I checked on the surviving ex-members of the Student Council." Her voice hardens. "Each, every one, was far happier in their true lives than in your little play. And none remembered you."
The sound he gives is tiny, part choke and part-- something else. His voice carries just the edge of a desperate beg. "But I-- I did influence them."
She sighs, and the hard vengeance flees her. "Yes. I will not lie to you. All were happy, but none could ever look into the night sky without flinching, just that little bit."
His sigh echoes hers, laden with relief.
A pause. "Brother, I did not come back to speak of the past."
A small chuckle, twisted horribly with bitterness, though he has at least controlled his hysteria. "There is nothing but the past."
"For you."
His eyes narrow. "And what is there for you?"
Her voice is calm, though aeons of practice. If she were not so wary of him, perhaps she would sing the word. "Rest. I have had my freedom, a lifetime with Utena; now I want to rest. And, if I can, bring freedom to my brother."
His snarl is convulsive. "I want nothing from you!"
"Freedom for my brother, Dios."
Almost, his whisper approaches awe. "You… you're insane."
"It has been eight years now. You… have no idea." Her voice has dropped to match his. "I was so lonely without you, Dios. With you sealed away… it was as if I had drowned the sun in the ocean, as if all warmth and light were gone. With the sealing, I became only darkness, like Akio. I clung to him because my eyes saw the possibility of my brother. And he knew it, didn't you? Knew that I hoped and prayed when you finally unleashed the power of Dios you would shed that cruel shell altogether. You knew.
"But it was never to be, in any way. And when Utena came into my life… the sun returned." She closes her eyes, voice tilting in tremor despite the tight control she has exercised since she first arrived. "She gave me warmth. Do you know how that felt, after the coldness of Akio? And she kept giving, selflessly, loving me with every breath in her body until there were no more and her time was through." Her head is bowed. Perhaps there are tears, perhaps not; perhaps she would not let herself be so free in his presence.
A low, furious, "Why do you tell me this."
She waits a moment, then takes a breath. "Because I realized afterwards. The power-- the power to bring Revolution-- was never entirely of Dios. Yes, he had magic all his own, but so did I. His magic let him save princesses. Mine changed myself and all around me to anything I wished."
"Really?" He spits. "And all those years I spent struggling to become Dios, those were all wasted? Why, you could have wished me Dios any time you wanted!"
Her reply is low. "I did not truly wish for you to become Dios. I was so afraid your darkness would taint his light, I could not risk it. And my only other hope, Utena-- she was light, she had that magic of nobility already, I could see it. I refused to wish she would turn into Dios. I was so afraid of how horribly my power could make things go wrong again." Somehow, she finds a slight smile. "And anyway… Utena was-- beautiful. I could not sacrifice who she was, Dios would never want that."
"Fine," he grates, "fine! I was never the one you wanted; I knew that before you came! Go and leave me, for God's sake." Jaw and fists clenched, he turns away.
"No," she raps out, voice sharp and suddenly commanding. "I will not leave. I have come for Dios."
He turns, finally showing true fright. "You're-- you're crazy--"
"You're useless," she states flatly, "or, perhaps, redundant. You and I-- both darkness. You see? Your time is long past over, Akio. I need Dios for this final Revolution, it has to be the power of light and dark combined, as it was when Utena unsealed me from my own fear. Your time is past."
He stands far too motionless for it to be natural.
"And brother--" she lowers her voice, gives him a small, sweet smile. "I'm not afraid of you anymore." She steps closer to him, arms outstretched, and finally pulls his unresponsive body into an embrace. Burying her face against the silk of his red shirt, inhaling the familiar scent, she murmurs, "I wish for my brother back. I want Dios to come back."
A small frightened gasp, maybe from one, maybe from both.
He crumples.
Her breath comes out in a rush. She is on her knees next to him, peering into his closed face with sharp anxiety: did it work?
In the eternity of a heartbeat, his eyes flutter open. "Sister?" His voice seems different now, arrogant corners smoothed, soft confusion edging his words.
She catches her breath in a happy sob and gathers his prone form to her. "I'm here, brother. I'm here." Her voice is suddenly soothing, even maternal, as she peers down at him in gentle love.
He nestles instinctively in her arms, a small and frightened child nuzzling towards warmth. "Sister… I dreamed such terrible dreams. And I tried to make them right, honestly. But I'm so tired…"
She holds him all the closer, rocking gently. "I know, I know. We both spent our strength to the breaking point. But we made everything right, I promise you that. Every life we touched was better in the end."
His sigh is happy, the setting down of a burden after far too long without rest. "I'm glad…"
"So am I, my brother." She whispers softly into his hair, smiling again. Then she draws back and murmurs soothingly, "You're tired, I know. I promise you, this time the sleep will be dreamless."
He blinks up in simple trust. "Will I ever wake up?"
"I don't think so," she says, "though I don't truly know. Do you wish to?"
"No," he says simply, calmly. "I don't think so."
She nods a little. "Then neither of us will."
"…Anthy, how will we fall asleep?"
"You know the way, Dios. I trust you."
A nod. "Give me your hand…?"
Hesitantly, fingertips touch, one at a time, then palms.
The night is quiet, and empty.