This story takes place after the final episode of the anime. It does contain spoilers.
Fakir crumpled the paper in his hand and tossed it furiously towards the wastebasket. How many times had he tried? How many times had he failed?
He supposedly had the power to breath life into stories. A power he inherited by being a direct descendent of Drosselmeyer. Drosselmeyer had such power, but he preferred to let the story consume him. He would foreshadow a tragedy and watch the events unfold, the writer experiencing the same excitement as his readers, not knowing what would come to pass, or dreading what was inevitable.
As for Fakir, why couldn't he do a simple thing like make Duck human again?
Simple thing; he laughed at himself for thinking such a foolishness.
The young writer found that he could give a gentle nudge to the world around him. If he wrote about something that could happen then it likely would. He could control the weather, or who might call at a certain time, even the outcome of sporting events. The problem was that a duck was not likely to become human by chance alone. He tried writing stories where Duck regained her human form, but he always needed some plot device to explain the transformation. He wrote about the djinn giving her a wish, fairies rewarding her kindness, chemistry experiments gone wrong, he even wrote one story where the power of love alone caused a transformation.
It wouldn't have been love, it would have been the story itself. Perhaps that was the problem. These weren't stories at all. They were simply his wishes. Duck becomes a human girl, they live happily ever after. He was skipping straight to the happy ending without the pain and sacrifice the characters needed to reach that point.
He could sacrifice something. Perhaps he could transform himself into a duck. He would give up his humanity for the one he loved. Fakir tried and failed. It still wasn't a story. He was just pleading with the page.
What did it take to make a duck human?
Before it was a shard of Mytho's heart. When the shard returned to the prince Duck returned to being a water fowl. Perhaps his power of love idea wasn't complete nonsense. Fakir and Duck both had hearts. Fakir was too humble to think much of his own pure heart, but surely Duck's heart could rival that of the prince himself. Still it had to be a story.
Fakir continued to think. Princess Tutu was the hero, she had to overcome some adversity to earn her prize. Just granting her a wish wouldn't do at all.
He put pen to paper.
Far away Duck stood in Mr. Cats class and tried to mimic the movements being taught to the students. She could only do so much. It was a point lessen and her webbed feet could not wear the special shoes required.
Point lessons had started just shortly before Duck had become a duck again. To her it made Drosselmeyer's story seem incomplete. She was given a challenge as a human and never overcame it. Duck would never tell Fakir this, though he probably knew anyway, but not completing her ballet basic training meant she couldn't live as a Duck without regrets. Being in love with a human didn't help either. Still Fakir was true to his word. He stayed by her side even though she was just a silly little duck.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of screams. Mr Cat gave her a dirty eye as she ran off to see what was the matter. He would reprimand her later for skipping class.
The sky was black. Screeches and caws filled her ears. As Duck focussed her eyes she realized that a murder of crows blanketed the stratosphere. The crows were all heading towards one place, the boys dormotory. 'Fakir,' she thought.
Perhaps the monster raven had friends, or servants. They were creatures who demanded revenge, hungered for blood. Maybe there was some power they could take from the blood of a story teller.
Duck soon reached the entrance to the mens dormitory. She tried desperately to turn the knob, first with her wings, then with her beak.
There was no choice. She didn't want to do this with so many crows in the air, but she had to fly to Fakir's room.
Vigorously she flapped her wings. So frantic was she that she may have looked more like a hummingbird then a duck. Seeing her, the crows swooped down to attack. Beak first the birds kamikazed towards the frightened water foul. Duck dodged a few of them, then just as one was coming right at her a sudden gust of wind improbably slammed her right onto Fakir's balcony.
Duck looked up to see Fakir. one hand held a sword. He swung his weapon through the air in a pattern that seemed random but continuously cut off every mode of attack to the crows. None-the-less a few always got through and took violent pecks to his body. This was because he would stop defending himself from time to time so he could write with his free hand.
This was not easy for Fakir. His own mother had died protecting him from a murder of crows. Still he wrote. He wrote about his mothers death. He wrote about what he saw, and felt on that faithful day. He described in detail how his own story gone in the wrong direction had prompted the attack. Fakir talked about how he refused to write stories for many years after that because he knew what he wrote would happen. Then he wrote about the power. He had the power to bend the world to his stories. This was no mere plot device. His power had brought the crows.
The crows took no interest in the tiny duck, as Fakir wrote that they were now focussed entirely on him.
He turned to Duck. "Duck, my story won't drive them away." This was a lie. His story had brought the crows. "Please, you have to turn into a human and help me."
A human. That's impossible. "I can't Fakir. Remember, I gave back the magic pendant."
Yes, the magic pendant. The mystical item that allowed her to become both a girl and ballerina that could reach the human heart through dance. In the end the pendant was revealed to be a shard of Mytho's shattered heart. Tutu had to return it to it's rightful owner. "You don't need the pendent," Fakir yelled. "Remember the pendant was just the shard of a broken heart. You have you own heart; a beautiful, pure, and complete heart. You can bring peace to these creatures. You can save me. Please Duck, please help me.
Duck closed her eyes and collected all of her resolve. She drew upon every bit of strength she'd gained in her many contests with Kraehe. In a blink of the eye Duck was human again. "I did it," she cheered."
Duck grabbed a pillow off Fakir's bed. Her instinct was to rescue Fakir, but instead swatted the pillow at the window so enough crows would back off for her to close the thing.
The room was surprisingly secure. Crows could not enter from the outside; though the glass cracked from many a crows attempt. Fakir and duck fought pillow and sword until those that remained inside the room all fell. None were injured. Fakir's story even gave consideration to these cruel creatures. The only one he allowed harm to come to was himself. The boy had many injuries from pecking s and scratchings.
The human duck looked deep into his eyes. both blushed, for they had not been together in human form for so long.
The school had acquired security measures since the monster raven last attacked. Sirens (that hadn't worked until just that moment) blared to life. The onslaught dispelled the murderous crows from outside.
"You were right Fakir. I had the power to become human all along. But why couldn't I do it before."
Fakir picked up the pile of pages on his desk grinning slyly. "Well you see...
Suddenly the dorm superintendent burst through the door. "Fakir, are you okay." He saw the blood stains on his shirt and yelled for a medic. The superintendent then turned and looked at Duck. This was hardly the time, but he would have to scold Fakir for having a girl in his dorm room.
"I'm fine," Fakir insisted. Then he saw something that took his breath away. In the hall outside his now open door, someone was being carried away in a stretcher. He looked to the superintendent.
"That's the third person whose been hurt. Those crows were ravenous." The superintendent gritted his teeth.
He'd hurt people. Fakir had specifically written that no one was to be harmed. Of course crows rarely did as they were instructed. It was that rebellious nature that lead Drosselmeyer to use them as villains in his last story. Still it wasn't the crows who were the villains here. Duck and Fakir had achieved there greatest wish and all it took was for Fakir to become a little more like Drosselmeyer.
In another world, a flamboyantly dressed man laughed at the twist ending. Fakir would be too ashamed to tell Duck the truth about there crows. Their love was forever tainted. Sure it wasn't as terrible as he would have written it but still quite entertaining to the master of tragedies.