Day 28: Bus 1

[accursed_rock]

Zelgadis was not happy, at all. Not that this was any change, but the events of the past few hours had given him more to angst about than usual. Nightshift had been dreadful: first he was attacked by a small green man and then covered in leeches, neither of which lead to warm fuzzy feelings

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[secret_orchard]

Awakening was a disappointment. Armand held back from thinking, as usual. Two or three days do not make a routine. He hopped right up and hid what he and Citan had stolen in the night. Then he turned back to see if his roommate, Dr. Birkin, was awake yet.

The nurse didn't let him look. She hardly left him a chance to think. She pushed a wad of clothing into his hands and left him with instructions to dress in them and wait on the bus. Then she was gone.

Armand felt stupid. Bus? What was a bus? He blinked for a moment, trying to find some concept to attach to the idea.

At least the clothing was blue. Mostly. The trousers, some very heavy weave of dark blue cloth, were too tight, just enough so that Armand had to suck in what little gut he had to secure the button. The zipper was another modern puzzle that a bit of dogged patience conquered without injury.

But the shirt. He had to remind himself that it was blue. Well, mostly blue, since he couldn't ignore the pale yellow spots that detracted from the sky-blueness of the material, what little there was of it. The shirt--if that is what it truly was--had no sleeves. It looked more like a vest without buttons. He'd die of shame or cold or both, he decided. When he put it on, it left his arms bare and chilly. Nothing for it. When he ventured into the hallway, the general flow of people led him outside.

Armand stared, mouth agape, at the huge yellow... things. Were those buses? "I'm not--" he started to protest until he noticed nurses sedating patients and dragging them into the vehicles. How he longed for someone, Dr. Birkin, Citan or even M. Richter, to explain all this to him. If he was going to keep his wits he'd have to pretend it all made sense. He swallowed down his fear, faked courage, and chose the first bus.

He was handed a muffin, a box and a few serviettes, which he clutched to his chest as he searched for familiar faces. Yes, Richter was here, talking to someone else. And the hungry man. With a shudder of revulsion, Armand chose a pair of seats as close to the front as he could get. He pressed his cheek against the cold glass, almost welcoming the goosbumps on his naked arms. Oh god, this was already a nightmare. Perhaps he could guard the seat beside him from others until his roommate could join him.

[iamyourflower]

She didn't think that she would just pass out and wake up in her room again, when she was so far from her room, but that was just what had happened. At least she was away from that horrifying sight in the restroom, but she was also alone, and she ached for Utena's touch again.

She was given a worn off-white shirt with lace around the collar that didn't quite fit her, and a floral skirt that didn't seem to be made of very good fabric. At least she got to wear a skirt again; she felt secure in it.

She obediently boarded the first bus in the row, and found the nearest open seat. The man sitting there looked uncomfortable, and she felt for him. She felt just as forlorn in this place sometimes. Having been with Utena recently helped her to garner her confidence, and she smiled kindly in greeting.

[secret_orchard]

It took Armand several moments to notice that someone was nearby. He couldn't help smiling back. Here was a pretty young lady, almost exotic with her dusky skin and green eyes. She seemed almost to be hiding behind her glasses. "Do you need somewhere to sit?" he asked, trying to keep his nerves out of his voice.

He might be miserable and half-dressed, but he wouldn't inflict his misery on a girl. And who knows? Maybe faking some confidence would grow into the real thing. "I'm Armand." His recent encounter with modern literature guaranteed he'd be leaving his family name out of most conversations from now on.

[iamyourflower]

"Armand. Oh! Are you the one who wrote on the bulletin about speaking French?" The question was a tentative formality, since there weren't likely to be many Armands in the institute, "I'm Anthy Himemiya." They'd had an interesting conversation, and he seemed like a nice enough person, though with his share of insecurities. (But who didn't?)

[secret_orchard]

"Oh yes, that was me. I was only hoping to find someone to talk to in my native language sometimes to get a break from hearing English all the time."

It took effort not to look away. He didn't have to hide from everyone. "I'm still not used to living here." He wasn't sure anyone was, but that was an assumption. "Are you one of the people who answered?" He didn't remember reading her name, but so many of the notes were not signed.

[iamyourflower]

"I believe I introduced myself and signed with initials," she said, "And I'm afraid I don't remember much French, just enough to get by in school."

She looked up thoughtfully for a moment, tapping her forefinger on her bottom lip, and managed to speak in shyly pronounced French, "It is nice to have some comforting memories from the home, isn't it?"

[secret_orchard]

All of the irritation and worry of this morning just fell away hearing those words. He beamed at her. "I could not agree more," he answered, careful not to speak too rapidly in his eagerness. "My English was terrible until I had to use it everyday." Armand had no intention of forcing her to continue on like that, though, and returned to the English that was the common language at the Institute. "You're good," he complimented.

"Where are you from?" he asked, hoping that her mention of home would not make it painful for her to speak of it.

[iamyourflower]

"Thank you," She said, "I wish I could remember more. I used to take on languages so easily..." Then again, she had taken on many skills with apparent ease, when they aided the dark intentions of the academy duels. That academy; she only had vague recollections of what it had been before Ohtori in Japan. They had commandeered schools in many nations, many worlds, long before the last; aeons it seemed. But it was the same academy that every heart endured, no matter what the language or where the campus; the same vulnerable transition place where duelists were made and broken, and they searched endlessly for a will strong enough to change the world for them. Those schools were probably much more peaceful now, without her there to act as an tool and a driving force for her brother to manipulate the students with.
"I don't know where I was born," she said honestly, trying not to make it sound extraordinary; many people were unable to know where they had been born or where their ancestors came from, "The last place I lived was a boarding school in Japan. The establishment had a very strong influence from the French; some professors, and architects who had designed the building, so learning the language was a requirement. Most Japanese schools teach English as their first foreign language, so that was a unique situation," She was rather pleased with how the descriptions came out; almost normal sounding, "What part of France are you from?"

[secret_orchard]

Armand listened thoughtfully. There was a sweet earnestness in her voice that soothed him almost as much as the sunshine coming through the windows. He simply could not hang onto his sour mood.

"I was born in Paris. My sister and I were raised by cousins, more or less." He chuckled, careful to keep it from sounding bitter. "Effectively we raised one another. We're both married now. She has her rich English baronet, and I have my Jeanne." That did bring something to mind that let him frown again. "Dr. Landel and his staff are very inconsiderate of their victims lives. I haven't been married a month."

"Still, there is something to be said about new people and new experiences. In England, I'd never meet all the charming young people I've met here. I didn't think I'd have such a rich opportunity to feel old."

"Do you think this trip to town is the treat they are pretending it to be?"

[iamyourflower]

"You must miss her," Anthy said, drifting into what felt like sympathy with thoughts of Utena in mind. She had missed Utena after she'd left, even though she had known that wasn't what Utena would have wanted, rather, for her to keep on living life with or without her. And Utena was here, to be her support still, and Anthy didn't need to feel in want of anything. (Besides the freedom they all lacked.

"There might be a lot of adolescents here, but that certainly doesn't make you old by comparison, Monsieur Armand," Anthy laughed lightly, and made a casual, knowing response to his question, "It can be a treat if you want it to be, just like anything offered at the institute, but it wouldn't do well to consider this as any sort of freedom." Long car rides and trips into the town, to the world of adults, they were dangled in front of students like carrots before mules, and so many of them had considered themselves grown up just for those excursions. It wasn't so different here.

[secret_orchard]

Her response was so wise and astute that Armand could not help trying to study her more closely. That she could be more than the young girl she appeared never occurred to him, even with what he knew about the workings of Landel's. His scrutiny continued a bit longer than he liked, since he didn't want to appear rude.

Before he was quite ready to reply, he started speaking in the hopes that his thoughts would catch up with him before he got terribly far. He was seldom that lucky. "I'm rather used to not having a lot of freedom, even when not locked away. Have you ever heard of Louis Antoine de Saint-Just? Vile man, whom I have the misfortune to be vaguely related to." When Armand realized where his tongue was running, he stopped himself abruptly by biting it, which made his eyes water in pain. "Even if you did know him, you wouldn't care about that, would you?"

With his eyes closed, he tried again, trying to relate what he meant without making it so personal. "There were many freedoms taken from us in Robespierre's Paris. I was one of the lucky ones to escape to England. Sad how Jeanne and I were just getting used to our freedom when I should lose it again so rudely. I should like to give the head doctor and all his people a piece of my mind." He'd like to do more, but he didn't think discussing violence was going to endear him to Anthy, and while he was tempermental, he wasn't given to meditated mayhem.

[iamyourflower]

The name sounded vaguely familiar, much as Armand's had; as if she should have remembered it from some book she read, or maybe even an acquaintance from long ago.
"Should I have heard of him?" She asked, tentatively, not presenting the question too intently, seeing how it seemed to pain Armand to remember him. There was clear sympathy there that didn't even need to be mentioned.

"Revolutions can hurt so many people in the process," She said, nodding. No matter what they brought in the end, "Even to overthrow this doctor..." She looked out the window thoughtfully, watching the autumn leaves flutter by as if the world was peaceful and right. All revolutions had victims. She was sure that as they spoke there were betrayals and manipulations happening even within the ranks of the groups that had formed among the patients. She worried, hoping she would not become desperate or jaded enough to resort to those tactics again.

[secret_orchard]

"Louis is-was quite powerful in France for a time. I don't know what happened to him, if anything, but it seems he and his friends would have made the history books. He once wanted to marry my sister. I'm heartily glad she didn't want him." He didn't resort to tongue-biting to cut off the flow of babble this time. Something about his fear of his cousin prompted him to ramble on like that about him, as if talking would dilute all that was dangerous about him. If anything could be said for being at this mysterious Institute, he seemed to be out of the sadistic little bastard's reach.

"Though that does seem to be what we need here, something to bring people together. Surely they're not so powerful that we can't break out if we all act together." But he'd yet to meet someone that could easily lead them all, except perhaps M. Richter. The young Hitsugaya had many marks of leadership, but his own honor would prevent him from accepting all who would aide him. Still, Armand agreed with her on one point. "Revolutions are brutal, on lives and hearts. Yet staying here too long would suck the heart out of even the strongest and most valiant." And he was neither. He tried to guess which she was.

[iamyourflower]

"Well, if he is as vile as you say, I'm relieved that she was able to refuse him," The implication in there was unintended, and probably unrecognizable to anyone unless they knew the nuances of her own situation. The "Able to" in that statement belied an appreciation for that simple blessing of autonomy that she had even given up coveting for a dark period in her life. Wedding knots were tied and severed with the clashing of swords; her veil lifted again and again by so many people without any one of them even asking if she minded. And she hadn't cared. Caring meant hoping against inevitablity. But now to hear of other women who were able to stand for themselves; who had been strong enough to choose otherwise, to refuse men who were no good for him. They reminded her of Utena in a way, though even she had fallen to those temptations. They reminded her of what she could be.

She nodded, pondering over the deep subject of revolutions, and the difficult decisions involved with weighing ends and means of moral causes. She remembered the breakfast she had been given, and then the bus stopped.

"Oh, I guess we've made it already. I hadn't eaten yet." She looked outside. The park looked nice enough for at least relaxing in a bench and enjoying a morning meal. There were simple pleasures that even their sad reality could not rob them of, "Would you care to join me for breakfast in the park?"

[secret_orchard]

"We were spared the worst consequences of her choice," he admitted. The bus had stopped. Armand felt vaguely disappointed, and annoyed at himself. "I'm afraid I cannot, Mlle. Anthy. I meant to catch up with my roommate. But now we've met, perhaps we can talk some other time. Perhaps a meal?"

[iamyourflower]

"That's fine," She said. She would be perfectly content to share her breakfast with the company of birds, "Some other time, then. A meal would be nice. I'll continue to check the bulletin." She was only sorry that she didn't have the means to cook for her friends here; she could have hosted a modest dinner instead of relying on the institute's crowded cafeteria. Social functions were still difficult for her, but it was easier with only a few friends gathering around.