Act II: The Reconciliation

"It's really been frustrating," Ahiru whines. "And now he's prob'ly gonna hate me forever."

"I don't think anyone can hate you, much less forever," Ebine says, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder as Ahiru sprawled out over one of the tables.

It was a strange friendship, one filled with a certain deja vu. But the chef couldn't deny that the young girl who often came to visit her restaurant was welcome company. Curious conversations and occasional cooking lessons turned acquaintances into practically family. Once Ahiru received the news that she was dancing the part of Clara, Ebine was one of the first promised a ticket to opening night.

"Fakir hated me before," the girl admits. "I bet he can again. And we still have to dance together in The Nutcracker. I bet he never wants to dance with me again."

Ebine sits down next to the ballerina, brushing some flour off of her apron.

"Oh Ahiru, you're overreacting. And he's probably unsure of what to do, especially since you told him you've been dreaming about him."

Ahiru blushes, her mind going over the details she left out when relating her dreams to the chef next to her.

"Maybe you just need to give him some time," Ebine suggests. "Maybe you both just need some time."

"But what if-?" Ahiru begins.

What if Fakir really doesn't want to dance with her anymore? What if Fakir does hate her again? What if he kicks her out of the house? What if the dreams keep going even after that?

"Ahiru," the chef firmly says. "At this point, all you can really do is take some time to calm down and then try talking to him again. You'll never find out what he really thinks unless you do."

The duck-turned-girl sighs, knowing her friend was right.

"Why don't you bring something from here to help get things started?" Ebine offers. "A peace offering. I've got some lebkuchens that I want you to try."

Something felt backwards.

Usually when an argument happens, it's the boy buying sweets for the girl. But Ahiru was the one who provided the rocking horse shaped cookies sitting between her and Fakir. She hoped it would at least get them talking after the fight and ensuing silence, but that hasn't happened yet, not even a question about why she got him the cookies or how it's often the other way around.

It was making Ahiru's stomach turn. Her worst fear was being realised; Fakir must not want to dance with her at all anymore. And it didn't look like she could do anything about it at this point, which only compresses the knots of her insides tighter together.

Eventually she musters up the courage to speak, but only to say, "I'll just go."

"Wait."

Fakir manages to stop her departure with that one word, though he's at a loss on how to continue.

"Why?" she asks when she turns back to him. "So we can sit here and not talk?"

"What am I supposed to say?" he asks back.

"That...that you just don't wanna dance with me anymore so you can go ahead and get it over with," Ahiru rattles off, her fingers curling, clenching, and uncurling in her palms.

If there was any anger left in Fakir's features, that confession clears the rest of it away.

"That's not true."

"It's not?"

"Of course not. Look," Fakir begins, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Even if I don't like something, you're the one making your own choices. Not liking one thing you do doesn't mean hating you."

Ahiru watches as he finally turns to face her, blush tinting his cheeks. And the very idea of what's causing him to turn red makes her flush in embarrassment in turn.

"So I can be in Lillie's show?"

"I don't want you to be in there," he affirms once more. "But I can't stop you, you don't want to drop out, and fighting about it's only causing more stress. So I'm done fighting about it." When that doesn't seem to assure Ahiru, he adds, "I'll help you with The Nutcracker, so stop worrying."

She finally does let out a small sigh of relief, the jumbled mess of her insides not feeling quite so cramped anymore.

"And thank you," Fakir says right before she leaves. "For the cookies, I mean."