"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?"