A/N: I caught this plot bunny and it wouldn't let me go. I haven't written in a while, so hopefully this is okay. Here we go.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or Princess Tutu.

Invisible

He can't see me.

"Come on, you, let's go back to Charon's house." Fakir motioned to the little duck beside him, starting the descent down the staircase of the tower. They had just seen Mytho and Rue back to their fairytale world, and everything was supposed to be all right.

He can't see… me.

Except there was no little duck beside him. There was only a girl. A freckled, short, confused girl with unruly hair.

Why can't he see me?

He kept walking, even though Ahiru wasn't following. She hastened to catch up, and again saw him speaking—to the ground?

Who is he talking to?

Ahiru slipped, tripped, tumbled down the last few stairs. Fakir didn't bat an eye. He kept walking, and Ahiru hurt inside. She hurt outside, too—it had been a hard fall, and a loud one too. Why hadn't he at least stopped and helped her up?

What's wrong with him?

Ahiru stumbled after Fakir, regaining her balance and rushing to catch up. She poked him in the shoulder. "Helloooooo?" He didn't respond. She waved her hands in front of his face. He didn't even blink. Hopping to catch up again, she yelled his name as loud as she could. He didn't say a word.

"This isn't funny… Fakir… Fakir?" She tried to speak to him again, but he interrupted her mid-sentence—he was saying something!

He was saying something to the ground. On his left. Where no one was standing. "Maybe I'll start writing when I get home." A pause. "No, I don't know who I'll write about yet. It'll come to me."

At this point, Ahiru stopped walking, dejected. Fakir kept going.

What's going on?

Ahiru followed Fakir home. She watched Fakir greet Charon, she watched Charon greet him, and no one greeted her. She watched as the two men went about their business. She tried to get their attention again and again, and they didn't respond.

It wasn't a game.

It's not a game.

They truly didn't see her. But she wasn't a duck, either, so what was she? A ghost? She looked down at herself. She looked normal enough—not like Tutu. Just Ahiru. Plain old Ahiru.

"Let's get you some bread, little duck," said Fakir, looking at her feet.

Little duck. Ahiru's mouth dropped open, and her eyebrows creased, unbelieving. "I'm not a duck!" she tried to say. "I'm a girl! I'm right here—look at me!" Fakir turned away. "Look at me!"

Is that what he sees? Does he see… a duck?

Fakir walked into the kitchen. Charon gave him a quizzical look (he can't see me either) and went back to polishing a sword.

Ahiru ran out the open door and fled the house, running toward the school.

Her old dorm room. She needed to think. Hopefully it would be quiet there. She walked into the building behind another girl, trying to look calm whilst panicking on the inside. Climbing the stairs, she ran her hand along the railing, taking care not to bump into anyone (or fall down the stairs again).

She was at the door, she was home, and—

The door wouldn't open. It wasn't locked. It just wouldn't open. She twisted as hard as she could, even tried with both hands, and… nothing. She stepped back and kicked it in frustration, letting out an aggravated yell. A few girls turned the corner at that point, and Ahiru turned red in embarrassment, but they didn't react.

It wasn't just Fakir and Charon, then. No one could see her.

She realized with a gulp that she knew two of the girls. Pike and Lillie—her best friends. And yet, they couldn't see her, couldn't nag at her, and couldn't make fun of her… Ahiru felt lost.

The girl between them giggled and extracted herself from them, heading toward Ahiru, who promptly backed out of the way.

"Bye bye, Sakura!" Pike laughed, entering her room. "Be sure to actually get up on time tomorrow, or Sensei won't be happy!"

"Of course she won't wake up on time," Lillie gushed. "And when she gets in trouble, we'll be there to make her feel even more miserable! How wonderful!" She too disappeared into her room, and the girl called Sakura opened the door to Ahiru's room and closed it behind her.

Ahiru had been replaced.

She wandered morosely through the town. This time, however, there was no Edel to clear things up for her. There was no Uzura to ask her funny questions about love to cheer her up. Ahiru was alone.

She passed by a water fountain—hey, wait. What if quacking could turn her into a duck again? Maybe this was why everyone couldn't see her—she was meant to be a duck! They'd be able to see her once she transformed!

"Quack!" she let out tentatively, experimentally. Nothing happened. "Quack! Quack quack quack!"

She looked down at herself. She was still as much of a girl as ever.

The voices of a couple could suddenly be heard behind her, and she turned around quickly, trying to move out of their way. She didn't quite make it in time, though. The man collided with her—and went right through her.

She didn't feel anything. A person had just walked straight through her, and she wasn't able to feel it. What was wrong with her?

Ahiru ran to catch up with the couple. She knew that they wouldn't respond if they were called. She just wanted to try it again. Standing in front of them, right where their arms were linked, she planted her hands on her hips and braced herself. The couple passed right through, giggling about something and acting as if nothing had happened.

And it hadn't, to them.

They can't feel me.

I can't touch anyone—they'll pass right through me.

I can't dance with Rue, or take Mytho's hand, or be hugged by Fakir… Fakir...

Fakir. Since when did she come to care about him so much?

She didn't know, but thinking of him made her feel... sad. Why sad?

Now that she was invisible, they could never ever—no. She wouldn't allow herself to think about that. She was just a duck. Ducks can't (love) be friends with humans (or date them).

Maybe it was better this way. Come to think of it... Fakir would never have looked at her if she hadn't been helping Mytho. He never would have given her a second glance if she was actually a girl to begin with. Most of his compassion for her had occurred when she was a duck. And since ducks can't really talk to humans, and he didn't want her as a girl...

He doesn't need me.

It was okay, then, that he didn't see her.

Just don't think about it.

It was really okay.

Ahiru ended up stumbling back to Fakir's house in the dark. The door was closed and wouldn't open for her, but a window was thankfully left open in the kitchen. She climbed through and walked up to Fakir's room. He was sitting at his desk, diligently writing. On the floor was a pile of bread crumbs. Ahiru thought this was odd—he wasn't usually that messy. She was too distraught to care.

He flicked a page over, dipping his quill in the ink again and continuing his elegant script. She crept beside him and looked over his shoulder at the words on the page. Line after line sprouted from the tip of the feather, describing a story about a man and his cats. Fakir rarely stopped writing; he was in a rhythm, she supposed, and nothing could stop him.

He wrote beautiful words.

He was beautiful, she realized, looking at his face. He wasn't scowling like he usually did when he looked at her. He had a look of concentration, but the edges of his lips also quirked up into a smile whenever he finished a page.

When did I start thinking he was handsome?

That was the one upside to all of this, she supposed. She was able to look at him without him scowling at her and calling her an idiot…

No. No, no, no. Ahiru knew that it was hopeless. She could never, ever have feelings for Fakir. He could barely stand to be in the same room as she was. Even if she wasn't… whatever she was right now, he would barely spare her a glance. After all, Mytho was gone, so any link they might have had beforehand was also gone now.

He had said he would stay with her, but… would he have really?

Maybe it was better, then, that she was like this. At least this way she couldn't really start (loving) caring for him. At least this way, he couldn't break her heart like he would be sure to do if she was really a girl. Ahiru liked to look on the bright side of things, after all.

And with those thoughts, Ahiru sealed part of her heart away.

Ahiru stared at the moon after Fakir had gone to sleep. She had tried to sleep as well, but it wasn't working. Either she had an untimely bout of insomnia, or she just wasn't able to sleep. It was okay, though. She wasn't very tired anyway.

The door to Fakir's room opened. Ahiru turned around, and Charon was there with a dustpan. He looked at the mess of bread crumbs on the floor, sighed, and cleaned them up, leaving soon after.

Maybe Fakir was just a really messy eater?

No, Ahiru found out the next night, he wasn't. Fakir had just come back from school (Ahiru didn't bother going—it was pointless, anyway) and he entered the room with a small loaf of bread in his hand, murmuring under his breath at the floor. She moved closer and heard him say, "And it worked! I went into his office to speak with him about my hand injury after class, and he had a picture of his cats on his desk."

As he spoke, he broke the bread in half, putting one part on the desk and pulling small pieces off of the other. He threw these small pieces at the ground near her feet.

For the duck me, I suppose, Ahiru thought. Only, the bread crumbs didn't get eaten. That was strange—if there was a duck version of herself that Fakir could see, why wasn't it eating the food that was left for it?

Ahiru was distracted by the thought of food. She hadn't eaten at all since yesterday morning. She glanced at Fakir, then leaned down and reached for a particularly large bit of bread. However, she couldn't pick it up.

I guess I can't eat, then.

That was fine. She wasn't hungry anyways.

Every day after that, Fakir went to the lake after school. Ahiru "met" him there (meaning she went at the same time he did and watched him watch the phantom her swim). Ahiru wished she could see, too. It was a little boring. She did like hearing him talk to "her", though (not because I love him I don't love him he's just interesting), when he told of the stories he wrote. Ahiru could read them when he wrote at night, of course, but sometimes he turned the pages faster than she could read and she couldn't turn them back again.

It was better this way, to hear his voice and stay invisible.

If she was a real girl, he wouldn't tell her his stories. He probably wouldn't even let her read them. Because he was so private with his stories, and because... he didn't (need) care about her.

Ahiru noticed a phenomenon.

It had to deal with Charon, and Fakir, and the relationship between the two men.

They would act normal all day, but whenever Fakir spoke to the ground (that's not me look at me), Charon would adopt a puzzled expression on his face. He never said a word, though.

And every night, after Fakir fell asleep, Charon would quietly come into the room and sweep up the bread crumbs that Fakir threw onto the ground. He would glance at the sleeping boy, sigh, and leave the room just as quietly as he had come.

Why was Charon looking at him like that?

Sometimes, Fakir spoke aloud in his sleep. His words were mostly snatches of stories (that came alive in following days), but sometimes they were memories. He mentioned Princess Tutu and Mytho and Rue, and the days he spent as a small child with Charon. Best of all was when he mentioned Ahiru (not because I love him I just like being remembered). Even though half of it was in conjunction with "idiot", she still liked to hear him speak of her. Her eyes lingered on his lips every time he spoke her name.

She lived (died) for those moments.

But no, she couldn't let herself think of that too often. She couldn't let herself love him. At least she was allowed to be near him like this.

It was better this way.

The days got colder. Fakir started wearing a heavy coat and a hat to school and stopped spending time at the lake.

Ahiru noticed she couldn't feel the cold. That was all right, though. She hadn't ever liked the cold anyway—even as a duck, she flew south for the winter, to warmer climates.

Fakir's little duck didn't fly south.

He seemed to be almost done with story writing and tying loose ends left behind by Drosselmeyer. He still hadn't decided whether or not to keep going (or so she deduced from his murmurs), but for now he was taking a well-deserved break. From what she could tell, everything in the town was going splendidly.

As December approached, Ahiru noticed something else. Both Fakir and Charon had started looking very tired. The more time passed, the more tired they looked. She wondered why. She didn't like to see them looking weary.

Sometimes she visited the school and pretended to take part in class again. She still wasn't good at it—at least she could hold on to the bar because it didn't require moving it. She tried her best to do the exercises, though. And she got to watch Fakir dance.

She was careful to leave while the door was open—it had gotten closed on her once, and she had to wait until the next morning to leave. That hadn't been fun.

Ahiru was very bored, otherwise. It was very lonely (being invisible) without people to talk to. At least she had Fakir. He talked to her (even though it was a different her) and said interesting things in his sleep.

What more could she want?

It's all okay.

Ahiru came down from Fakir's room one evening after he came home from school and didn't come up to his room right away. She was shocked to see Fakir and Charon arguing about something—or rather, Charon shouting and Fakir clutching at a small loaf of bread.

"She's not real, Fakir! I don't know what you're telling yourself but it's time to stop! I love you as my son and I don't want to see you wasting away anymore…"

Who was he talking about? Did they both have tears in their eyes?

Fakir opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, swallowing.

"She's. Not. Real." Charon let out an exasperated huff, and Fakir slowly, slowly, knelt to the ground, crumpling like an accordion.

"…I know."

Charon had started to say something again, but stopped at the soft whisper of Fakir's voice. "What?"

"I know. I know… she's not there." He turned his face upwards, tears streaking down it. "Ahiru's not here."

Ahh. There it was. She shouldn't have tried to fool herself—she knew the pain was coming, she had tried to push it away, but there it was. That was her heart breaking. She could almost hear it crack, could definitely feel it as pure sadness in her chest. She could barely breathe.

He had finally, finally, said what everyone else had (or hadn't) known—Ahiru wasn't there.

Why did it hurt so much?

Because… because she did love him. She couldn't cover it up any longer. He was everything to her, especially in the last few months.

Had he been pretending she was there? She wasn't sure. He probably truly saw her as a duck, and talked to her, and fed her bread. She felt another pang of sadness for Fakir—now that he had admitted it, he couldn't go around acting like she was there again. No more talking to the ground or to the lake or throwing bread crumbs.

She was losing him.

Charon knelt down and put his arms around his surrogate son. "Let it out, Fakir. It's okay. Time will let you forget," he murmured.

Ahiru blanked out.

Maybe that was the not-real-person form of fainting, she supposed later. It was dark outside—probably after midnight. She climbed the stairs to Fakir's room. He wasn't asleep. He was sitting at his desk, head bent, quill in hand.

She peered at the paper. It was streaked with droplets of water (tears) and had very little written on it:

"I don't want to forget."

"I won't forget you."

"Ahiru."

"AHIRU."

"I love—"

She covered her mouth and turned away, tears leaking from her eyes.

Please don't forget me.

I don't want to be invisible anymore.

She let out a sob, shaking.

I love you.

It wasn't better this way.

She turned back to Fakir, knelt, and flung her arms around him. She didn't care that he couldn't feel her—she needed this. His head was still bent, and it rested on her shoulder now. She held on as tightly as she could. Maybe if she didn't let go, she wouldn't lose him. She didn't want to lose him.

Please don't let me lose him.

I love you.

"I love you…" she murmured. As if saying it aloud would make any difference.

They cried for a long time.

Fakir stirred. Ahiru pulled (tore) herself away from him, crumpled and broken—

He grabbed her arm.

Ahiru snapped her head up in shock. Fakir was looking at her, at me, looking straight into her eyes.

They were silent for a few long moments.

"You…" her voice crackled, rusty from disuse and crying. "You can… can you… see me?"

Fakir didn't say a word.

There wasn't time for him to say anything before he stood and pulled her close, crushing her against his body.

If her heart had broken before, this was her heart trying to fit back together—she wanted it. She wanted it to be true, but she was so scared that it wouldn't be, but, but…

Fakir pulled back, his hand moving to her face, lingering on her cheek. He looked straight at her (not through me) again, touched her hair (he's not passing through me), closed his eyes. Opened them again, fast, as if he couldn't get enough of staring at her. But still…

"Please… Fakir… can you… see me?" She needed it confirmed, or else—

He drew close to her, closer, too close, and then their lips were touching, he was kissing her, and it was wonderful (beautiful) just like him.

He pulled away, breathed, and answered.

"Yes, Ahiru… You're the only one I ever see."

-fin-

A/N: For reference: When Ahiru is invisible, she can touch and feel things (but not manipulate them). Things can't feel her, and pass through her in any instance where they would touch her normally. She can hear but isn't heard.

Fakir's hand injury: referring to the hand he stabbed when he was trying to stop himself from writing at the end of the anime. I figured it might hinder some of the partner work for ballet, etc.

Fakir's "Ahiru": Fakir wasn't "pretending" she was there, exactly. She was his coping mechanism. He wanted so badly for her to be there, and when she wasn't, his mind had to create a "her" for him or else he would have gone crazy. (Or maybe he was a little crazy in the first place.) He expected her to turn into a duck at the end, so a duck she was.

Ahiru becoming visible again: Fakir and Ahiru both finally admitted that it wasn't okay for her to be like that. Since she was sort of in denial of her love the whole time, she tried to convince herself that she was fine with it all, and Fakir had his fantasy duck. But once Fakir admitted that his duck wasn't real, and Ahiru admitted that she really did want to be real and there with him, they sort of faced reality and made her real again.
Basically, her invisibility came from her thinking her part in the story was done and that she wasn't needed anymore by Fakir. Fakir in turn created an imaginary Ahiru in his mind. It wasn't until they both wanted her to truly exist (and admitted their feelings for each other) that she became what she was meant to be-a girl.

Leave a review if you'd like, and thanks for reading. (:

Alexa xoxo~