[identity profile] redshoeson.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] kinkfest
Title: Each Man Kills the Thing He Loves
Author: [livejournal.com profile] redshoeosn
Rating: NC-17 for implied incestuous coupling and a stark lack of remorse.
Warnings: Incest is best, despite the efforts of Strikethrough and its minions. Do not read if hetcest is your squick. Spoilers through Revolutionary Girl Utena (the television series).
Disclaimer: I do not support incest or any other actions deemed illegal which may or may not be portrayed in this work of fiction. I trust that readers, like myself, recognize that this is indeed fiction and is neither a recollection of a real event nor an expression of a desire to participate in and/or view such an event. In short, this is fiction and should be perceived as such.
Word count: 605 words
Summary: Anthy knows why she does it; it is her mantra.
Prompt: 46. Revolutionary Girl Utena, Akio/Anthy: Secrets - "your face in the mirror behind me". (Second fic claim)
A/N: Title comes from Oscar Wilde's The Ballad of Reading Gaol.



There are reasons she does this. Taking her hair down, pin by pin, she recounts them to herself.

I would die for him. I will die for him. I have died for him. I will die again.

The pins trickle down from her thin fingers onto the vanity, clinking against the surface. The noise seems so loud that she stops, hands still against the wood. She will not look at the mirror, not yet. When she reaches up to her hair again, she pulls the pins out more quickly. He cannot be kept waiting.

As she liberates each curl, she repeats her mantra.

He is my always. He is my eternity and my infinity. It is for him that I do this.

Once the pins are gone, she reaches down and picks up a brush from the top of the vanity. As the teeth of the brush sink into her hair, she reiterates her promise. Her hand stops, the brush having caught a knot, and she must stop to undo it. Too much time passes. She puts the brush down and moves on, determined not to pause again.

Raising her hand to her face, she removes her glasses. Without them, her eyes do not sparkle in the moonlight. Her vision clouds, but her mind remains clear. She has a task to attend to, and she will not fail. There's a bowl of water on the vanity; she splashes her face before drying off with a hand towel.

Now is the point when her heart should ache. She should feel sick or swoon, but she does not. Instead, she slides off first one cotton strap, then the other, letting the gown pool to the floor beneath her feet. The chill of the room against her bare shoulders does not make her shiver. She wonders if this means she has lost more humanity than she intended to. She continues to undress.

When she is naked, she looks at herself in the mirror. She sees no one recognizable there, only a demon clothed in sin. The chair is soft against her bare flesh, but she knows she does not deserve such luxury. She is glad that it is someone else sitting there in front of the mirror and not herself, not her own filthy soul.

She is at once aware of him standing behind her, his image having flickered in the mirror. His shirt is unbuttoned and he leans against the door frame. She watches him move towards her in the mirror.

When he reaches her, she presses her hands against the vanity and leans forward. She knows what he wants.

Captivated by what she sees in the mirror, she cannot bring herself to close her eyes. It is her duty to bear witness to this transgression of flesh and blood; this is her promise. She watches his eyes. They never leave hers.

When it is over, he leaves without a word. She picks up her garments from the floor and dresses, pushing her glasses on at the last minute. Turning away from the mirror, she goes back to her shared room.

The girl in the bed next to hers stirs.

"Hush," says Anthy. "Hush, Lady Utena. I'm here."

Utena opens her eyes. "Anthy?"

"Hush." She dares not reach forward to stroke Utena's cheek. Instead, she attempts a smile. "The demons have gone."

"Yes." Utena's eyelids flutter closed before she rolls over, away from Anthy. Anthy lies on her back, staring out the window at the stars. Her eyes do not close until the moon begins to sink from the sky.

She fears the light of the sun.

Date: 2007-07-13 08:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ravenbell.livejournal.com
Lovely protrait of Anthy. I liked this bit especially.

I would die for him. I will die for him. I have died for him. I will die again.

Gives me the chills.

Date: 2007-10-09 04:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] girlchild.livejournal.com
I really loved the way that Akio was present in this piece only as viewed by Anthy; only as a flickering image in the mirror. It suited Akio's manipulative, behind-the-scenes style, and reminded me particularly of the movieverse.

I wish that you'd crosspost this to [livejournal.com profile] utenadrabble!

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