dog new tricks, rated pg. akio-centric (garbage challenge). post-series. 494 words.
(nothing you learn will stick)
Without the Bride, he can't help but be lost. Even his great ego can not prevent him from seeing this as clearly as he can see the glasses still set upon his desk.
The problem, he muses as he holds up the little tie her familiar had always worn about its fat little neck while brother and sister had ruled over the dream kingdom of Ohtori Academy, is that he has never had to do anything without her before. Oh, they both have their own power, with or without one another, but they are as complementary as earth and air, water and fire, sun and moon. They can survive without one another, certainly, but neither will be the same for the absence of the other.
He wonders if Anthy understands that as well as he does.
Looking out from one of the tall windows of the observatory, he can see the school laid out before him like a toy city, just waiting for the player to move the pawns as he sees fit. It was his domain once, and it still is his domain now. Anthy's departure has changed the rules, of course, but the game still exists even now.
It's not so easy to change, after all. Akio's more than aware than any of what Utena has done, what she has shown Anthy without even realising what she was doing. Utena has left Ohtori, after all, ever thinking that she has failed Anthy…not knowing that she did in fact bring about something of a revolution for Anthy after all.
Still, Akio has to smile when he realises that not even Anthy realises what a revolution is – it is only an empty movement that just spins around until it at last comes full circle. There's no need for him to change what he does after all, because the road that leads ever onward from this school will just bring her right back home.
You can't teach an old dog new tricks, no, but then, Akio wonders how Anthy learned even momentarily what Utena had to teach her. She's just as old as he is, after all…and it is that knowledge that keeps his fading hopes alive. Anthy crawled out of her coffin, perhaps, but that does not mean she is not still dragging it behind her like an escaped dog trailing its leash. It stands to reason that the coffin will overtake her one day, for she can change no more than he can. They are the same, after all – and he knows one day he'll make sure he'll be the one to pull her right back into their shared coffin and close the lid tight. He still has a few tricks up his sleeve…and indeed, some of them are new.
He'll continue to play prince in this coffin forever, perhaps, but he'll make sure he's never doing it alone. This coffin she created all those years ago always had been made for two.