A/N: Well hi there! This is completely unexpected for me to be writing this, but the idea has been in my head for a long time, and even briefly mentioned in my other Princess Tutu story 'Cookie, Anyone?' .. which you should definitely read xD
Much like my other stories, there is some OOC-ness, but not so much that it becomes bad taste. Hopefully.
Anyway, this is what happens when the internet decides to not work, and there is no homework for me to do.
Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu. Pfft... we all knew that.
Enjoy.
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Peking: A Story of Ignorance, Innocence and Cannibalism
A Princess Tutu Story by Miss Lorah
Once upon a time there was a girl named Ahiru, and for the love of God she went nowhere near the brown meat. Fakir sighed. If only things could be dealt with so simply.
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In a normal situation celebratory dinners would be exactly that; celebratory. However, when one of the guests at said celebratory dinner happens to think they have close family connections to the main course, there are many different emotions expressed aside from those of praise and happiness. Ahiru seemed to be in a catatonic state, apart from the occasional twitch, as she maintained a solid stare at the plate in front of her. She was disgusted. Mortified. She wanted to be sick, but had trouble remembering how to move.
Sitting directly across from her was an individual equally stunned. Fakir slowly eyed the numerous tables around him, and the self-serving facilities of the restaurant. Of all the dishes anyone could have picked, why did she have to pick that one? It was as if that day, Fakir had walked under five ladders, broken three mirrors and tripped on the tails of numerous black cats. The possibility was extremely unlikely, but the unexpected had occurred. What terrible luck. So, now was the time to attempt to fix the problem... and the only way to venture on the road to problem resolution is if the victim starts to speak.
"Ahiru... uh... you okay?" What was Fakir thinking, asking that? Of course she wasn't. What a stupid thing to say. He made a mental note to hit his head against a wall at a more appropriate time. Fakir then fixated his gaze at the salt and pepper shakers resting comfortably between the two of them. He bet they never ever had problems like these. For a second, he found himself envying a condiment, indicating the new low he had reached.
It took a while for the girl to respond, but she soon let out an enormous sigh and rubbed her eyes. "I guess so. It's just weird. I had no idea people... people eat ducks?!" Ahiru's voice dropped to a harsh whisper towards the end of her sentence; even though Fakir knew that she was in fact a duck, that didn't mean that anyone else did. She did, however, see the upside of having others know. For example, someone nearby could have politely deterred her away from the large metal pot that read 'Peking Duck' and said 'Oh don't eat that. That would be cannibalism."
That would have been helpful. It would have also been helpful had the labels been larger so you didn't need a magnifying class to read the names of the dishes.
"Yeah... they do." Looking back, Fakir thought he probably should have said something earlier. Oh by the way, people eat your species...So it was difficult trying to come up with the right words, he thought. Were words even necessary? Yes, they were. Sprinting through a posh restaurant and slow-motion tackling Ahiru to the ground might have hinted at something completely different, and caused a scene.
Her eyes no longer resting on the half-eaten plate of duck in front her, Ahiru slowly lifted her head and looked straight into Fakir's eyes.
"Do you eat ducks, Fakir?"
That proved to be a more difficult question to answer than expected. Any answer could result in something horrible. Had he chosen to respond 'Yes. Ducks are delicious and I eat them all the time', it was likely that Ahiru would jump out of her seat, scream various obscenities, storm out of the restaurant leaving Fakir an embarrassed mess covered in Hoisin sauce after having a plate thrown at him. The other option was to say something like 'Ugh no way. Ducks are disgusting and I would never ever think of eating something as revolting as that'. It seemed possible that Ahiru would feel somewhat offended and ask why he didn't think ducks were fantastic. Much like the previous outcome, Fakir would end up embarrassed and covered in Hoisin sauce. Attempting to find a happy medium between 'yes' and 'no', he wished that he would suddenly become gifted with improvisational speaking skills and avoid the angry Ahiru he anticipated to meet.
"Well... I only ate it once a long time ago. I don't remember what it tasted like." That seemed reasonable enough. He was an innocent child then; he couldn't have possibly known that someday he would just happen to become friends with, and possibly romantically interested in someone who could just well be Donald Duck's distant cousin! Oh no. Ahiru's eyebrows were lowering, her eyes squinting, her mouth opening. She was going to retaliate, angrily is seemed. Fakir knew he needed to say something else, and fast.
"I was , uh...tricked into thinking it was chicken!"
A satisfactory ending that saved him; he thought it was chicken the entire time. This meant he wasn't even planning on eating duck and he had never eaten it since. Ahiru couldn't possibly be angry. A fairly safe position to be in, he thought.
Regardless of this, Ahiru still looked shocked. Fakir began to frantically come up with ideas as to why this was. Was she shocked about the deceitful feeding methods of his stepfather years ago? Hopefully so. Ahiru's eyes sunk to the floor. She had had a rough few minutes. Accidentally eating one of her brethren, finding out it was completely normal for ducks to be served on plates ... and now this?! She needed some time to take all of this information in, but at the same time, she had so many questions to ask.
"So, people... eat chickens too?"
At this moment, Fakir decided that it was best to swiftly and quietly leave the restaurant. It turned out that he had a lot of awkward explaining to do. After slowly pushing out his chair, Fakir rose and moved himself over to the side of the table where Ahiru was sitting. "It will take a while to explain" he whispered and took hold of Ahiru's arm. As they stealthily left the building, Fakir felt incredibly lucky that Ahiru had not emotionally exploded as the result of hormonal imbalance, as he assumed most girls would in the same situation.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Rue was casually sipping lemonade out of martini glass, while her 'man-bag' of the evening, Mytho, eyed the patch of wall behind her, trying to maintain a steady level of false enthusiasm. After all, it was a dinner celebrating the general greatness of Rue; being remotely uninterested was likely to result in certain gruesome death.
"Rue, people are leaving..." Mytho spoke hardly louder than a whisper, the slightest element of fear evident in his tone of voice.
In response, Rue huffed, taking another elegant sip of her lemonade. "Beginner's class riff raff? I don't really care. Now, tell me that you love me again."
Mytho sighed and lowered his head. Perhaps he should just ignore what was happening around him, he thought; Rue was in quite a good mood. "I love you, Rue."
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In the midst of what was going to be a very long explanation regarding the social lives and diets of humans, Fakir pondered as to how he would be able to use his power of storytelling to help people. If only it could be so easy as to write away people's troubles in as little as a sentence.
Once upon a time there was a girl named Ahiru, and for the love of God she went nowhere near the brown meat. He sighed. If only things could be dealt with so simply.
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A/N: And there you have it, a spontaneous one-shot finished. I hope you enjoyed it! And how do I know whether you enjoyed it? Reviews! Haha. Seriously, though they would be appreciated, and thanks for reading!
( I knew Ahiru knew people ate ducks xD This one-shot was written just to be funny :3)