It's easy to forget the time in the long day of summertime. When Ahiru makes it to Fakir's place after sunset, Fakir has already moved on to reading cosily in front of the fire.
Ahiru sits down at the table herself and starts on whatever Fakir has left for her.
"Has Fakir thought of marrying someone?"
"...yes?" Fakir gives her a glance from the corner of his eye, not bothering to turn.
"I mean…not the wedding and stuff, but like, living with all the time, spending the rest of the life with, someone?"
Ahiru scowls at her own paltry explanation, but she was a duck only two years ago, so she's not too harsh on herself. Maybe she should have listened more to Mr Cat's out-of-class lectures. Mr Neko and other teachers say nothing on these things.
She stops the hand that starts to pull her braid. A clever thought hits her.
"...Mytho! You have, I know you have. You wanted to stay with Mytho forever, did you not? "
When no immediate reply comes, Ahiru looks at Fakir. He is quite pink now; not looking at his book anymore, but not looking at her either. He makes a noise at his throat and turns his head away. "Yeah," he says quietly, "Have you not?"
"Hmmm, actually, not that much." Ahiru scratches her head, trying to explain to Fakir her mental comparison of Princess Tutu and Rue. "And, I mean, ducks don't really marry each other? Not that I know a lot about that, I was a duckling. I was, well actually, I don't know how old I was before Drosselmeyer transformed me."
Fakir puts his chin in his hand, then hesitates, but finally settles on, "every relationship is unique. Don't worry yourself." and pats her on the head like when she's a duck.
When Fakir comes around to consider Ahiru's questions again, she has gone back to going through ballet positions in his living room.
"Actually, Ahiru, you can tell me when you think of marrying someone?" She bobs her head at him. "Or kissing someone, for that matter."
Ahiru blinks, like it's the first time the idea occurs to her. Well, maybe that is not too far from the truth; it's not like duck bills can do that. Fakir keeps forgetting the human-girl thing is actually quite new to her.
Some of his amusement must have shown, because Ahiru narrows her eyes at him.
"Have you ever kissed someone…Mytho?"
He coughs. Maybe he shouldn't have let her help around the house he (and Mytho) grew up in so much. She knows too much about him now, and is definitely using it to embarrass him at this moment. And she keeps using them as the reference points of human relations. It's a bit awkward. And funny. Especially considering his (past) object(s) of affection, and well, hers…
"...no." Not on the mouth, anyway.
"Sure," she gives him a suspicious look, but drops the matter, satisfied with her revenge.
The bookstore owner drums his fingers on the counter. Fakir has come to visit one last time, entrusting all the stories of Kinkan to him.
"The duck-girl is going with you?" The old man gruffs, and upon receiving Fakir's affirmation, commends their choice, "It's good that you don't need to mess with the town's story anymore on her behalf. Not that I am ungrateful to Princess Tutu, but you know what risks that power of yours involves."
The young writer is still unsure how his power works. Drosselmeyer left very little written on it, although judging by the extent of his manipulation, he was quite the master.
They agree that his power is tied to the Oak Tree, but that's about the only thing they are certain of. Doubts come to the young man; will his power wane and Ahiru turn back into a duck when they leave too far, too long?
The old man scoffs, "Rue gives her place in this world to her. What you need to worry about is not being able to turn her back to a duck, not the other way around." His power to influence reality, however, might wane. But that isn't necessarily bad news to either of them.
"You can write if you ever need to talk about it. What happened. Or your cursed ancestor. I am the only old one that remembers," he offers eventually, the young man has the audacity to act surprised. "It's hard to bear the past alone. What with that ungrateful brat chasing some stranger halfway across the world. You are much more sensible. I will come to the wedding if it's in town."
He has to pull down his dark hood to roll his eyes properly at his visitor when he blushes and stutters some nonsense about him and the duck-girl not being something. The old man has little patience for these youngsters and shoos him out in annoyance. Wait until the old man is dead to ask. No need to invite him. Brats.
They are crashing in Raetsel's place right now. It's a bit cramped and inconvenient, but they can stay until they settle down. The opera house he works in and Ahiru's new school are practically next to each other; they can just hunt for a place together nearby. He glances at Ahiru and wonders if it's still too soon to ask. She is literally like, what, three years old? He shakes his head. That's not a conducive way of thinking; duck years are different.
Her brows and lips are knit in contemplation, eyes darting to him when she thinks he isn't looking.
"What is it?" he picks up his tea and asks.
"Do you want to kiss me?"
He spits and his teacup tips so violently he almost drenches his trousers. Ahiru grapes a towel and hurries to dry the table. "Sorry! I wasn't doing it on purpose! It's just something Raestel said yesterday. And, well, Pique said at the train station the last day that..."
Fakir tries to stop his coughing to little success. "...that I want to kiss you?" She nods, her blue eyes wide.
"Hmm," he equivocates. "Uh...sometimes?" He chances a glance. Ahiru doesn't look alarmed. Okay.
"Okay," she echoes his thought. He picks up his tea again, just to occupy his hands. Bad idea. Ahiru opens her mouth and closes it. He sets the tea back down.
She blinks, "Do you…want to try?" What. Why. How. Now?
He must have given some affirmation, because Ahiru is already leaning into his face. She pecks him on the lips, and scowls.
"Your lips are cold! And chapped! It's nothing like what your love letters say!" Ahiru protests, and will have left the sofa to find him lip balm if he hasn't pulled her in and promised to try again.
Ahiru thinks Fakir is not being honest about the kissing thing. She thinks he likes it at least as much as she does. She also likes the human ideas of love and marriage and such with him, and she tells Fakir so, when he comes to walk her home after school.
"We don't need to conform to these ideas," Fakir says, tucking her hand into his, "We don't have to marry. I mean, I am more than happy to do that when you are ready." Ahiru is still not of age. "But we can just be anything we want. Just the duck and the boy. And I will always stay by your side."
Ahiru protests that she thinks of herself more as a girl than a duck these days. She feels herself fit more comfortably in the world than before. She has better command over her body, her form more fluid; she learns to read more, she picks up more languages.
"Can we do Bluebird again this weekend? I want to do the original choreography." Fakir agrees easily, and they walk the remaining few blocks hand in hand in the evening light.