Fakir takes me away from the main hall, pulling me past the other teachers offices before stopping in front of Mr. Katt's room and explaining that he needed to have someone take over his class. Mr. Katt, while seemingly infuriated, doesn't have a chance to respond as Fakir pulls us both back down the hall to another room. An unused ballet room, it looks like.
"Why do you always flinch?" Even with a soft tone, Fakir still sounds angry at me. I try my best to avert my eyes, my mouth staying shut. His hand grips onto my face, forcing me to stare at him.
"Look at me, please, and answer the question." His voice is still soft, even though I can tell he's getting fed up with my lack of an answer. I feel the hot tears already running down my face as I struggle not to make hiccuping sobs. He continues pressing, his hand holding tightly to my cheeks. The mental capacity to hold back feels like an anchor on my chest, as my words dribble out slowly, forming a meek sentence.
"I-I… I c-can't… y-you wouldn't…" The sobs drown out any coherency in my voice. I can't even look at Fakir. His eyes seem to loosen up, as do his fingers, letting me sink to the ground and uncontrollably cry into my hands. My composure is gone.
I'm exactly how everyone remembers me when I first came here; a sad, scared, and tiny duck, left at the mercy of my own incompetence and inability to mask my emotions. My body slips down even further, going into the fetal position. The floorboards beside me sink in as Fakir sits beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and softly reassuring me of everything.
"You're safe. Don't say it if you don't want to." His words are soothing, though I don't start talking again, still just hiccuping sobs escaping my lips. I can't tell him. Not now, not ever. I had buried that Ahiru years ago in the ground with Mom. I shrug, leaning away from him defensively, just starting at the crow colored leotard he wears.
"W-why do you suddenly care..? You hate me Fakir… Everyone knows you do," I look up at him, finally questioning his motives. Fakir looks down, his gentle expression turning pained in a matter of minutes.
"I've never hated you, Ahiru." He runs his hand against my back, holding me like a dear old friend. "I know it seems like it, but I understand you a lot more than you'd probably like to know." As he keeps holding me close, I feel the beating of his heart against my arm. It was slow, peaceful. Something of comfort.
Fakirs hands pull through my braid, totally undoing it and running fingers through my hair. Maybe Fakir really does care. Maybe he does understand what it's like. Maybe I haven't been giving him enough credit. But it's equally as likely he's just trying to pry details off of me.
As we sit in the room together, alone and in the glimmering midday light, shining in from outside, I stare up at his face. He was so kind when we were alone, when no one knew where we were. I find comfort in resting my hands against his chest and snuggling my face into him. He smells kind of sweet, like a peach.
He rests his hand against the back of my head, giving a small and gentle kiss to my forehead. Platonic, sweet, something I could feel was genuine. He stands both of us up, turning me around as he begins putting my hair back up in my long, soft braid. His fingers manage to gingerly redo my hair, stroking it ever so kindly. Had he done this before?
"Ahiru. You need to promise me something." His voice is still pleasant, but cold and authoritative now. As I turn to face him and nod, holding my hands behind my back and cocking my head to the side.
"What is it, Fakir?"
"You have to promise that you'll be able to take care of yourself." Furrowing his brows, it's obvious he is not at all comfortable with the idea of this, but he continues, "Giving myself time to think, and discussing it with my colleagues, it's not right or healthy for me to personally escort you. But this doesn't mean that you're off the hook, or that you should let your guard down around people like Wayland, especially after what just happened."
He brushes my hair out of my face, small cracks of worry dripping through his façade. I smile brightly at him and nod enthusiastically as he continues staring at me, pokerfaced.
"I promise I won't disappoint you Fakir!" I beam, holding up my fists as though I had just triumphantly won a fight. He huffs a small chuckle, no doubt at how dorky I look. I give him one last small hug, nuzzling my face into his chest. Fakir is tall. Taller than I remember, actually, as he's able to rest his head on the top of mine. I feel him as his hand slides down my waist, his other positioning into mine, holding me tightly. My heart drops as he dips me back, smirking deviously above me.
"This isn't a harlequin novel, Ducky. Don't get your hopes up that I'm going to soften just because you've been in compromising situations. I'm no knight in shining armor." He lifted me above his head with almost no strain as I positioned my arms and legs, my body seemingly unreal to me once again as I'm positioned perfectly.
Princess Tutu.
She is what I call my 'alter ego' though I'm certain that isn't the right word for it. Whenever my passions are at an all time high, whenever I feel very strongly, my legs carry me, my body is fluid, and my dancing is impeccable. I feel my mind scream in panic as Fakir and I keep dancing, moving in sync with each other. His hands hardly seperated from my waist as he guided me. I could hear him mutter 'one, two, three... one, two, three…' from under his breath to keep us in step. Finally, he dips me once again. I feel his forehead rest against my bosom, sweat dripping down into the fabric. He looks up at me and smirks, setting me down on my feet, flat.
He stands straight once again, patting my shoulder and squeezing a bit, sweat dripping from both of us. I smile at him, trying desperately to catch my breath. My hands grip onto my hips as I stretch my legs.
"You've gotten much better… Much better…" He heaved, smiling at me. " Why don't you dance like that in class?"
I hesitate, clenching my fists, going over what I could say, what I could tell him. I stare up at him, though my mouth is practically sewn shut. He raises an eyebrow at me before rolling his eyes.
"Fine. Keep your secrets," he blows a couple gleaning strands of hair out of his face, "Just get back to your dorm then. Get changed, you have remedial in 30 minutes." He ushers me off and I trod off back across the courtyard in the direction of my dormitory. I let his words echo in my head. 'He's getting softer' I think to myself, giggling at my own little inside joke about a sweeter Fakir, who makes flower crowns and kisses babies. I feel my heart beat quickly in my chest as I think about that devious smirk. Something about the chisel of his jaw, the way he raises his shoulders a little when he smiles, that soft gentle look he gave me when we danced. His hands felt familiar, yet so distant, like it was buried in the back of my mind. I shrug, thinking nothing much of it as other thoughts come into my mind.
Two men stand at the gates of the academy. They're handsome, tall, and flirting with some of the freshmen despite being in their mid to late twenties. I cock my head, a bit confused as I watch them, stepping forward just to listen a little better. One of the men notices me, smiling and waving me over to them. I hesitate for a moment, feeling something sear in my gut that tells me I shouldn't give in. But my legs once again carried me towards them, the other girls smiling and giggling into their sleeves. Something about them seems familiar too.
Standing in front of them, I could feel my blood start coursing even faster. They were intimidating up close. I notice the soft wrinkles around their eyes and mouths, though their expressions seemed insincere towards us.
"What's a sweet little fox doin' over with the wolves?" One of them asked with a faux velvet tone. Leaning more onto the bars, he seems to be the more suave of the two men. The sun kissed blond hair and dark eyes that almost seem to glean mauve in the God rays. His jaw is chiseled, but his nose is gaunt and curved over. It seems not to fit on his face. I stand straight, thinking he looks much more like a Toucan than a Wolf.
"Just seeing what's going on. Nothing more," I try to confidently fold my arms, but the girls start giggling even more. The other, much older looking man is easily stroking one of their locks, (who I rather abruptly recognize as the twins from my remedial lessons) his fingers softly caressing their cheek as they swoon over his lovely tanned skin. The two men chuckle, starting over to me, my own reasoning loosening as I shrink down a bit, their large intimidating frames looming over me; jailbait to hungry prisoners, the only thing separating us is the bars in between. I feel the older one tries to pull his hand through my braid before I whip it back, gripping onto it and combing my fingers through the tufts in between.
"C'mon kitten, we're just here to make nice and talk to pretty girls," The leader nods his head to the two pretty freshmen who are still giggly and starry eyed. I stare them up and down, still gently shifting my feet back. His voice still has slime in it, no matter how genuine he seems. He leans his hand through the bars.
"My name is Victor." He continues, his voice softening. His other friend has seemingly gone back to tend to his own 'friends'. His hand still stays out from the bars, waiting for me to shake. I slowly reach my hand through and quickly shake hands with him as he smiles down at me. Something in those mauve eyes made me quiver, like he was a predator hunting prey. His friend, who had remained nearly silent aside from passing comments to the girls he was eyeing up, finally spoke.
"So, are all of your beautiful women dancers here?" He asks kissing one of the girls' hands, his words having such thinly veiled sexual undertones, you could cut it with a butterfly wing. I hesitate back again, but the other girls nod and smile, jovially responding to them.
"Oh yeah! We're all ballet students here! We've only been here a year, but Ducky has been here for five!" I glare over at the twins, my cheeks getting hot with anger. They sincerely could not have been that stupid as to give them that personal information. I let out a sigh as I furrow my brows, trying not to quack at them about school policy. Before much further discussion, I watch the two men begin bolting back into town, blowing kisses our way as they bid "Adieu!" I hear the gasps of twins before turning around myself.
Fakir. His face molded into a permanent frown in front of me. I feel my head begin spinning as all of this is so overwhelming. Fakir takes all of us by the arm, yanking us through the courtyard and into his ballet space. He paces around in front of us, his feet making the earth quake from below us. None of us had an excuse, all of us are guilty. Finally he looks up at us, glaring each of us down.
"I thought it was suspicious that not one, not two, but three of my remedial students hadn't shown up to class today." His voice echoes throughout the practically empty studio, ringing in my ears far harsher than it should have. I watch the twins start sniffling and tearing up as Fakir starts shouting louder. "I thought all three of you were smarter than to talk to strange men at the gates of the academy, but apparently you're not. You need to be treated like toddlers and escorted around the courtyard, am I correct in this assumption girls?" His voice was already starting to give out from how angry he was becoming. The twins are amidst a breakdown, and I can feel myself treading on the edge of one. But this time, I feel it is well deserved.
"Those men are a danger to not only you three, but to everyone in our school. Do you understand that? Do you understand the things they were going to do to you? The vile, horrendous things they were wanting to do?" Fakir finally stands straight in front of us, staring us down with his cold, unfeeling glare. "I'm going to have to report this incident to the Headmistress. She will take over the punishment and for your sake, I hope you've learned your lesson,"
He turned his back to us, staring at us through the mirror. It feels like it can shatter with just how sharp his glare is. I nod, solemnly accepting my fate, even at the shrill sobs of my classmates, begging him to do anything else. I hang my head low, terrified of what worse things he could do in this situation. The numbness sets in. That primal fear no longer can consume me as I feel my ears start ringing, the world around me becoming fuzzy as a familiar heaviness piles onto my chest. That familiar overwhelming strain on my lungs as I try not to cry. This wasn't what it was last night. This isn't a panic attack. This isn't a moment of fight or flight. It is a recollection. It is painful. It whispers memories from a place I dare not turn to.
The rest of that day is blurry. Some things didn't even exist in my mind. It feels like hours have been lost as I creep into my room, lying face down on my bed. Something rings hard in my ears. Voices. Fakir's shift between tones. The Headmistresses expulsion threats. Victor's sleek and mysterious voice. My eyes close and I creep into my blankets, I feel solace in the fact that we scraped by with barely a week long suspension. As the Headmistresses words sink in again and again, I drift into a dreary slumber.
Fakir… He carries me over the white landscape below, snow crunching beneath his feet as I'm held like a new bride. A large duckling colored dress I'm wearing crinkles against his fingers, as he lays me down in the painfully cold snow. As soon as I touch it, my dress changes. Mauve. Fakir begins backing away, his arms outstretched and his eyes closed. Head raised towards the falling snow. Looking behind him, there's a glint of dark silver, barely shining in the non-existent sunlight. My eyes widen as I realize it's a revolver. Aimed straight at him. I struggle to stand, to scream out for him to move. My dress gets heavier and heavier as the snow pillows on top more and more.
"Stop!" I'm awoken by the sound of hail cracking against my window as I scream in fear, sitting straight up in my bed. I feel the sweat pouring down my forehead. My body is still shaking fervently as I look at my clothes. My nightgown. My blankets. My bed. It was just a nightmare. Something still doesn't sit quite in my stomach, something just eating away at the enamel of my bones. The storm seemingly came out of nowhere, but I have to get away.
I pull myself out of bed, throwing on a long sleeved shirt, pants, and a heavy raincoat, and begin marching out into the storm. Opening the front gate is surprisingly easy as I start off towards an inn. The hail pecks at my scalp and starts bouncing off my shoulders painfully, though I keep trudging on. I feel eyes following me, but nothing else. The city is empty right now. No one dares come out in this weather. I hold my arms above my head before bursting into the Welcome Inn, one of the only two in town.
There, Mytho and Rue stare at me, along with every other patron inside. I am dripping wet and covered in melting hail, standing frozen in the living area. How I knew they'd be here, I have no idea. But Mytho recognizes me, smiling brightly as he walks up to me, giving me a big hug.
"Ahiru! It's been ages!" He sounds so excited to see me, something I genuinely didn't expect. His curly white hair, glistening gold eyes, and very muscular, cream colored skin all seem the same, but something about his personality… He was always so soft spoken in class, so gentle with his words. Here, he seems more loud and abrasive. I hug him back, confused but not unhappy. "How've you been? How's the academy treating you?" As he pulls away, his fluffy white curls bounce around his face, his golden eyes shimmering brightly, almost like a child's. Rue walks up to me as well, smiling and hugging me as soon as Mytho pulls away. At this point, everyone aside from us three are back to their own lives, chatting and laughing. I smile at them both, as Rue pulls away, she softly pecks my forehead.
"O-oh! It's been uh, okay?" I refrain from saying too much about my recent endeavors. I feel raw heat boiling in my stomach as I see the rings on Mytho and Rue's fingers, hands interwoven together. "I saw your guy's performance of La Sylphide! You guys did amazing!" I watch Mytho burn up like a lightbulb as Rue just smiles and laughs, burying his head into the crook of her neck.
"It was our last performance of the tour, so I think everyone felt it wasn't their best work. But thank you, Ducky. We all do our best on stage." Rue kisses Mytho's ruffled hair. It looks so soft, practically unreal as his eyes turn up, his face still burning with intense embarrassment.
"You should have seen us in Paris, Duck!" Mytho blurts, his face lighting up. He seems so different from when we were in the academy together. He was calm, collected, quiet. Here, now, still who I love, still who I feel strongly about. But something about that feeling makes the gears turn in my head. Mytho continues on, talking at length about how the people in Paris are just as beautiful as the city itself. How it felt like the peak of their performance. "They have my picture in the papers down there! 'Le Prince Du Ballet' they call me! The Prince of Ballet! Isn't that amazing?" He looks at me beaming brightly as Rue pats his back, smiling down at him with rosey cheeks and gentle eyes. They both fit together so beautifully. Like Yin and Yang.
"Wow, really? That's amazing!" It catches me off guard as he lifts me up and swings me around, smiling up at me. That smile, that raw joy was amazing to see in person, up close like this. He sets me down still excitedly bouncing as Rue kisses his forehead, calming him down a bit. He chuckles and takes my hands, looking down at me pleasantly. Rue looks at me and touches my shoulder, hey voice as soft and velvety as it was hey last year.
"Ahiru, would you like to join us until the storm passes? If not, it's no trouble, we just want you to stay safe." The storm is getting pretty raucous. And maybe it'd be fun to hang out with them. My heart still sinks to the bottom of my stomach as I catch them cuddling closer. Still, I chirp happily.
"Sure! As long as I'm not a burden or anything," I wipe off the remaining hail from my hair and shoulders as they lead me towards their private room.
"Nonsense love, you're like our own daughter, you're never a burden." Rue chimes back, starting down a long corridor to the left. "Besides, it looks like the storm might keep us in until later tonight, so it might be nice to have someone to lounge with." Mytho smiles walking behind her, just hand locking with hers again
"What? You don't like spending all your time with your husband?" He jokes, tugging on her sleeve and making her scoff. Rue turns around and smiles at us both as we reach their room.
"Ha ha ha, very funny, Mytho." Rue turns the key and pulls us into the surprisingly small room. A canopy king bed is the centerpiece of the room, with beautiful white sheets and black pillows. There is a small writing desk in the corner and a green chair to accompany it. Rue sits on the bed and smiles brightly at me. "I've heard Fakir has started teaching the intermediate ballet classes. Have you seen him around?" I feel my cheeks heat up, pulling off my coat and laughing it off. I feel Mytho and Rue stare at me, giggling a bit. "Has he given you trouble?" My heart sinks yet again as I try not to remember the look he gave me yesterday.
"Yeah, he's my teacher," I manage to stammer out, sitting down in the arm chair. "He's had girls clawing at him since day one." Rue and Mytho laugh.
"He has always been the handsome one, so that's really no surprise. I assume you haven't fallen for his stoic charm?" Mytho lays back on the comfortable looking bed, as Rue raises an eyebrow at me, watching me nervously fidget with my sleeves. I hear her gasp excitedly before rushing over to me and grasping my cheeks in her soft delicate hands. She is smiling widely, squealing before bouncing up and down.
"You like him, don't you?" Rue strokes my hair as her eyes glisten. I feel my heart beat hard in my chest. Like him? No! He has just been nice to me recently. Though I can't get those words out of my mouth, like there's cotton in my throat, and Rue takes it as acceptance of her theory.
She looks at me and kisses my cheek, bouncing up and down around Mytho as even he smiles and starts gleefully teasing me. I try to defend myself, but they both can no longer hear me as Rue stands me up and tugs me over to her large suitcase without much said between us. She rummages through the case before grabbing a beautiful unitard and pressing it against my body. It was a soft off white color, barely hinting at pink. Rue lights up further before ushering me into the bathroom.
"Show me when it's on, okay? I want to make sure it looks cute!" She giggles as she closes the door enthusiastically. I continue to stare at it for another few seconds, hoping it would look okay. It was easier to gaze at than the pure white of the school distributed unitards. Finally, I strip down to my underwear, before pulling on the snug unitard. The back was exposed, and looking more closely, the garment is covered in beautiful lace. Something that's definitely for performance, and not for training. I peek my head out from behind the door as I look at an excited Rue.
"A-are you sure you want to see it..? It's kind of embarrassing," I murmur, my hands almost shaking with nerves as even Mytho is excited. Both of them nod with rather large grins spreading across their cheeks. I open the door fully, squeezing my eyes shut as their eyes watch me. The anticipation is killing me, so I finally release a long sigh, opening my eyes to them, with Rue's eyes practically filling with tears and her hands covering her mouth.
Rushing to her, I try to calm her down. "I'm so sorry, I can take it off if you want, Rue!" I blurt, before she removes her hands, smiling brightly at me.
"Ahiru, you look so beautiful." She runs her fingers against my cheek before holding my hand, squeezing it affectionately. "Please, please keep it." Rue hugs me tightly, before Mytho hugs me as well. I hug them back, a bit teary-eyed as I feel like I'm being hugged by people who care about me. Who genuinely want me to be happy. I nod as they pull me away from their parental hug, smiling at me as they usher me to change into my clothes. I run back to the bathroom, pulling my clothes on over my new garment. As I walk out, the storm has seemingly passed, and the mid-afternoon sun starts to peel in through the clouds, though I know it won't last very long. Mytho smiles and offers to walk me back to my dorm.
"I might as well tease the old Katt, Fakir too. Want to come with, hun?" Mytho wraps one arm around my shoulder, with Rue agreeing to let us walk together.
"It's been a long day, and I need to rest. I trust that Ahiru isn't going to pull any funny business," She jokes, dabbing away her tears with a handkerchief. I gently smile, my brain ticking as it both wants to respect Rue, who is far kinder than in class, and wanting to be with Mytho as closely as she is. Though it seems like time has jumped as Mytho and I are walking down the street towards the academy. It has been quiet the whole time, before I finally manage to squeak out a small sentence.
"Mytho, I-I…" I try to speak up, though my voice fades into silence. He looks down at me, his arm still wrapped over my shoulder, keeping me in his chest. With his gentle gold eyes on me, I feel the words cascade from my lips.
"I love you…"