Work Text:
On a wagon bound for market
There's a calf with a mournful eye
While Nanami's recollection of her early childhood is hazy at best, those years have come to be distinctly well-documented. There are pictures of her and Touga sitting on their mantle which Nanami doesn’t quite remember taking, but treasures nonetheless. In the earliest ones, Touga smiles primly, while Nanami, fresh out of infancy, wails and wails. In the pictures taken with their parents, her brother is not smiling and Nanami appears still, quiet, and cowed. While Mother and Father aren’t in many of the photos, their influence is unmistakable: from the perfect postures of their children, to the expensive clothes and extravagant picture frames that adorn their childhood memories. Their parents' presence in the lives of the Kiryuu siblings was just as absent as it was inescapable.
Nanami knows she has parents. She hasn't seen them in years, doesn’t know where they are, but this doesn’t worry her. She has her big brother, after all. And Nanami Kiryuu has been a sister far longer than she's been a daughter.
When she was about seven, Nanami had a treasured hair clip in the shape of a butterfly; it was a gift from Touga. She wore it almost every day for a year until, one day, it went missing. She cried about it for days, ashamed that she would lose such a precious gift. When she finally mustered the courage to apologize, Touga laughed and said it wasn't a gift from him at all; it was a present from their father, didn’t she remember?
Anyway, said her brother, his beautiful face twisting, I hate butterflies .
Nanami couldn't believe she misremembered something like that. She had no memory of her father giving her anything, much less a cheap plastic butterfly pin that seemed unfit for a man like him to carry. But maybe she'd had it all mixed up; when she tried she thought she could recall Touga wearing that very same pin in his long, pretty hair.... perhaps it had been discarded. Perhaps that is what Nanami's possessions all amounted to: things her brother no longer had use for.
Even still, a part of her cherished the memory of Touga doing her hair, fixing the clip to her braid and telling her she looked very pretty. She doesn't know if it's real, but it feels true. And it makes for a nice story.
It's been years since she's seen either the butterfly pin or their parents.
She looked back through the photos to see if there are any pictures of him wearing it, but she can't find any. As if it never existed. Touga's hair gets longer with each photo, but she doesn't see it held back with clips anywhere. In one, they're having a tea party with empty teacups. They're in the ocean, but Nanami can't remember ever having been in the ocean; she can't swim. They're playing with a cat. That one she remembers all too well.
High above him, there's a swallow,
Winging swiftly through the sky.
It wasn't that she had forgotten Touga's birthday that one year– she would never forget something so important. But she’d been cooped up inside for the past few days due to the heavy downpour and got stuck listening to her tutors drone on and on about stuff that didn't matter. She didn't know what to get her brother for his birthday, and it didn't help that she was spending every minute of her days on boring lessons. She got a sharp rap on the knuckles every time her mind wandered, and by the end of the week, they were red and raw.
It was still raining by the time her brother's birthday came along. She'd escaped her tutor earlier that day and sat huddled beneath the overhang of the decrepit shed which had somehow survived their parents' remodeling rampage. Nanami shivered, wet and cold but too ashamed to go inside and meet her brother empty-handed. She was startled from her moping when a pathetic mewl sounded out from inside the shed.
Equal parts wary and curious, Nanami crept inside the barely-standing structure. The mewl came again, this time from beneath a pile of wood that looked like it had collapsed from the ceiling. Bending down to look, Nanami found herself eye-to-eye with a tiny, shivering ball of fur- it looked about as pathetic as she felt. She reached out a finger to poke it and it mewled in protest. She rocked back on her heels and made eye contact with the poor stray.
"Aren't you a sight..." Nanami said, trying to affect the high-and-mighty airs her tutors had tried to instill in her speech. "Don't you have someplace to go home to?"
The kitten mewled in response.
"Ok," she muttered, rummaging around the small space for something she could use as a box, "Let's get you inside."
She wouldn't be coming home empty-handed after all.
"Stop complaining," said the farmer,
"Who told you a calf to be?
She remembered their father hadn't been happy about letting Touga keep the kitten– he’d called it a “disgusting stray”. But with the party still in full swing and an audience watching he’d acquiesced. He waved his hand dismissively and said, Don't get attached; creatures like that are fragile, and they die easily.
But Touga ended up loving the cat and thus paid it great care and attention. So much attention, in fact, that he started brushing off his own sister in order to play with his new pet. Nanami would sit frustrated during lessons with her tutors, watching her brother outside playing with his newest toy. Another rap on her knuckles for losing focus. Her brother bolted his door when he was mad at their father, letting no one in, not even her- no one except that cat. Rap . Her brother rolled his eyes at Nanami when she asked to play, saying that games were for little girls, and honestly wasn't it time she grew up already? Rap . But he could then turn around a play with a piece of string and animal for hours. And she was the little one?
Nanami started hiding from her tutors. They found her a couple times, but she was getting better and better at hiding. One day, she went a whole two days without being found; not by her tutors, the servants, her parents, or her brother. She went back to lessons on a whim one day to gloat and found that no one was there. Her tutors had been dismissed. Her parents never bothered to tell her; she’d had to find out by interrogating a passing maid. The maid waved her off as well, too busy to indulge in Nanami's little hide-and-seek games.
Is that what I've been doing? Nanami wondered. Playing games?
She went to knock on her brother's door, but he wasn't there.
Three days passed before anyone spoke to her again. She hid in the downstairs laundry, the upstairs laundry, beneath the divan in an unused sitting room, the linen closet, her parents' closet, her own closet. No one came in, no one found her. No one was interested in this game.
When she finally did stumble upon someone, it was a business associate of her father's who had just emerged from his study. He eyed her muddy socks, her ripped dress, her wild hair, the blanket she'd draped herself in, before curling his lip and throwing her own words back at her.
"Aren't you a sight…"
She shivered in response. The words wouldn't come, her voice hoarse from disuse. The man strode past her without looking back.
Nanami stood stock still for a moment, before tearing down the hallway, suddenly frantic. She needed to find her brother. She needed him to- to- she didn't even know. Once she found him, he would know what to do with the feeling that was burning through her insides.
"Touga!" She banged on his door.
No response.
"Touga!!"
"Brother!!"
"Touga!!!!"
"Not right now Nanami," came her brother's muted voice from inside. "I don't have time to play."
She stood in front of the door for another minute, hand frozen in a fist where she had been about to knock. She was suddenly shaking, shuddering, overcome with an emotion she didn't know how to name.
A pathetic mewl came from her side. The cat had also come to visit Touga.
Her father's words came unbidden to Nanami. Creatures like that are fragile, and they die easily.
Her body finally calmed down, the heat subsided and a cold feeling took its place. Her hands dropped to her sides and she stepped back from her brother's door.
"C'mon," she said, picking up the cat, "It's time for both of us to grow up."
Why don't you have wings to fly with
Like the swallow so proud and free?"
That night, Nanami dreamed of drowning. She clawed at the box around her, yowling and screeching for help. Her own face swam above her, eyes hard and cheeks wet with tears.
“Fragile ,” she says to herself. “ You die so easily. ”
But it wasn’t an easy death inside that box. It wasn’t easy at all.
Calves are easily bound and slaughtered,
Never knowing the reason why,
It wasn’t until years and years later that she would understand why her life had been built around her brother, why he put a ring on her finger, why their parents were never around, why there were no pictures of him as a baby on their mantel.
Nanami had always been Touga’s little sister. He was the only person in the world who had to love her unconditionally. He was family, they were tied together by blood– the kind of tie that can’t be broken.
That had been the story.
But this was where the story ended: Nanami stood stock still and bore witness to happily ever after. Anthy lying naked, eyes dull and emotionless, draped across the couch like a ragdoll. Anthy’s own brother lying next to her, hands in her hair, petting her like a cat. The bruises on her arms, her neck, her waist. Akio’s unbuttoned shirt.
This was the end of the story. This was their happily ever after.
Nanami ran.
She walked around barefoot in her nightgown for an hour. Her head was empty– no, clogged, fuzzy– for most of the night. She couldn’t string her thoughts together. Images of Anthy’s limp body flashed behind her eyelids every time she closed them. Anthy, the weird, creepy girl who kept snails in her pencil case. Anthy, the nuisance whose cooking usually ended in explosions. Anthy, sat primly by her own brother’s side, then Saionji’s side, then Utena’s side, her smile fixed tight on her dimpled cheeks, her glasses flashing in the light. And Akio in every photo, resting his hand on his sister’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The family pictures on her mantelpiece came to mind. Anthy's hair draped limply over the couch brought back memories she wasn't sure were real; red hair that was not yet as long because it hadn't finished growing, and not quite so limp because it hadn't yet learned to stop struggling. She wasn't sure these memories were real- wasn't sure if they were even hers, or if this was another sick game played by Anthy or him. Was what she just saw even real? Is this all a dream? Was she misunderstanding? Hallucinating? How was she supposed to trust her mind when nothing in this world made sense anymore?
Nanami's head spun. The butterfly clip. The family portraits. The cowbell. The egg. Who's she supposed to trust: herself, or the laws of nature?
She sat down on the fountain's edge, drew her knees together, and tucked her toes beneath her nightgown. Here were the facts:
She'd witnessed a... violation. If she went to get help and this all turned out to be a figment of her imagination, she would be ostracized for starting a nasty rumor. If it was real, then she would become a target of a different kind. Either way, she was in danger, and she was alone.
She could figure out if she was crazy later; for now, Nanami had to weigh her options.
Who were her allies, after all? Not Touga. Saionji, by proxy, was out of the question. Could she go to Miki, Juri, or even Tsuwabuki?
No, not Tsuwabuki , Nanami reminds herself. He’s already in awe of Touga. It would be all too easy for her brother and the chairman to take advantage of that.
Juri felt like the obvious choice– she was older, stronger, and distrustful of all men to boot. She would never fall for Touga, never be won over by the chairman’s charms. But she was weak, weak, weak when it came to other matters of the heart. If Shiori Takatsuki could be won over by the chairman– and Nanami was certain she could– Juri would all but crumble. And after what had happened with Ruka…she didn’t deserve to be put in that position again.
Then there was Miki. As the student council member closest to her in age, Nanami had always found herself getting along with him. He could be naive and ridiculous when flaunting his brand of chivalry, but he was smart and reliable. Surely he would know the protocols for this kind of situation. Do you report this stuff? Does it go through some kind of committee? How does a school hold its own chairman accountable?
She didn’t realize she had started walking back until she was on the steps of the tower. Her uniform, her sword and dagger, Touga’s phone– the meager belongings she’d brought with her– they were all still in the chairman’s penthouse. If she was to face the chairman and her brother she could not do it unarmed.
But whoever treasures freedom,
Like the swallow has learned to fly.
The scariest part of it all was how normal the siblings were able to act. Anthy was shaking salt onto her brother’s eggs, feeding him like a baby bird as her own meal lay untouched. Akio was greeting Utena with an arm around her shoulder, whispering a husky good morning while the Rosebride looked on with her usual impassive smile. Utena shuddered with something she couldn’t identify, now gazing at the chairman with bashful eyes.
What was it the chairman said when he had first invited her into the penthouse? My wish is to build a harem in this tower.
He didn’t even care enough to hide it.
This is what it looks like, Nanami realized, to be completely above accountability. She crushed the slice of lemon in her tea, spat out a useless warning to the densest person on the planet, and strode out of the tower. Her dagger’s hilt nudged her hip as if to remind her of its presence. If the game was rigged, she would find another way. She was no stranger to breaking the rules.
In the end, she couldn’t subject Miki to the tower. She thought of how quick he was to blush around Touga, and his crush on Anthy, and his godforsaken chivalry. They would eat him alive in there.
She didn’t dare go to anyone about this. There would be no consequences for the chairman, she was sure about that now. The first thing she had to do was get out, the rest would come later. She submitted her transfer request and steadied the hand on her dagger.
Touga’s phone rang in her pocket. Out of habit, she picked it up, expecting to hear the simpering voice of another fly on the wall. Instead, it was the End of the World.
How the winds are laughing;
They laugh with all their might,
Nanami thought the lowest moment of her life was when she had laid eyes on Anthy’s naked, bruised body. But that was before Nanami’s own brother tried to stick his tongue down her throat.
She had never felt so disgusting. She wanted to claw off her face, her lips, her hair, her skin- every inch Touga had touched. She wanted to share nothing with him. She wanted to share his blood.
She bit his lip and pushed him off with all her might. Her dagger had vanished from its usual place at her hip. She turned away, twisted her entire body away from him, gripped the sides of the chairman’s stupid convertible and wondered how much it would hurt to just jump out.
What's wrong? Touga mocks, and Nanami finally hears the cruelty in his laughter, it's not like we’re actually brother and sister.
He looked at her through his falling red hair and she didn't see the glint of lust so everpresent in the chairman's gaze. The hunger was there, but it was predatory: the spark in the eyes of a butcher when he knows he's got a good cut, or the ambition in the eyes of a fisherman when he reels in a rare catch. Nanami felt reduced to a piece of meat or a well-placed pawn under his gaze.
Touga may not belong to her, but he is confident that Nanami will always belong to him.
Like hell.
If Touga has just been using her this whole time, Nanami vows to use him back.
Later, when he pulls the sword out of her chest, she imagines what would happen if he drove it back in. That moment of fear makes her flinch in his arms, and she knows he feels it but doesn't know if he cares. If it matters to her brother that his arms will never again be a place of safety.
Meanwhile, her dagger has found its place back on her hip; she doesn’t need anyone else to draw it out for her. Neither Touga nor the chairman can take that from her.
Nanami fights viciously against the person she once was, and for the person she doesn’t yet know how to be. She loses.
She allows herself a moment to cry as her brother spares her a look of sympathy. Her loss was all but guaranteed to him. And yet, Nanami knows now more than ever, that losing in the chairmen's arena doesn't mean a thing. The rules of this place were written by people like Touga or the chairmen, people who wanted and expected her to lose. She owed them nothing.
Nanami loses, and yet the world keeps spinning. Nanami loses, and yet she doesn't feel the least bit inclined to bow her head.
She hears the chairman pat her brother on the back after the fight, his hand gripping Touga’s shoulder. Her brother has gotten a lot better at smiling, and Nanami’s had plenty more practice with crying. Touga throws her a look over his shoulder, almost conspiratorial as if to say Look at this game I’m playing. Look how I’m winning. Except he’s not, and Nanami isn't interested in playing with him anymore. So she clears the board before any more of her pieces can be taken.
Laugh and laugh the whole day through,
And half the summer's night.
It didn’t feel good to turn away from Touga, from Ohtori, from the person she used to be. But every step she took was easier than the last. Before she knew it, she was flying.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna
Donna, Donna, Donna, Don
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna
Donna, Donna, Donna, Don