Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu. That is the property of the great Ikuko Itoh

Bold-Fakir's essay topic

Italics-Fakir's Essay

Normal- Fakir's thoughts.

Day 3- Dreams

Write a 500 word essay focusing on what the heart longs for but the mind knows is unattainable. You will be marked on the depth of personal reflection shown within your writing.

Human beings have long coveted that which they cannot obtain. Whether it is a new outfit or another's life partner, the unattainable has always held certain appeal. I myself am no exception to this human condition.

Fakir tapped his quill against the edge of the desk as he tried to think of his next paragraph. Around him, the sounds of library reminded him that final exams were just around the corner and everyone had sought out a place of quiet in order to complete all the last minute assessments that the teachers had heaped upon them.

For the longest time everything was simply a chore, something that had to be done with no passion or true effort on my part. That others saw these feeble attempts as being the best amongst others encouraged me to continue as I had been. The days were routine and comfortable; I saw no reason to change. I had no close friends save one, only acquaintances. There was no true desire on my part to interact, form bonds, and participate. Life was a chore after all; or so I thought until I was shown differently.

Fakir gave a small smile as he remembered the first time he met the girl who managed to get any sort of reaction from him besides cool indifference. Granted it was anger, anger borne of fear, and he had made her cry but still it was more than what he had previously expressed.

The initial shock of meeting someone so full of passion and determination, someone who was selfless and kind to everyone she met; someone so completely different to I, was great. Truly, it can only be expected when two such opposing personalities meet for the first time. Regardless, that sparked something within my cold, colourless existence; warmth that I had thought long buried.

From that point, I found that I subconsciously yearned to be close to this source of ignition; to the paintbrush capable of colouring my soul and make it vibrant once again. However, she was drawn to another and I could do nothing but admire from afar. That I was still treated with kindness, despite constant passion-filled clashes, made the longing grow until it became an all-encompassing need. I knew however that it would never be and fought to maintain control; I couldn't let that colour be so vibrant, it had to be muted for her sake and mine.

That had been the hardest thing, the writer thought as he stretched in his chair. To work so closely, so intimately with her and know that her heart belonged to another; he had never coveted something so desperately until he'd met her. He wanted to be the one for whom she'd give such gentle smiles, for whom her face would light up only to be quickly stained with a blush. He wanted to be the one she loved and would go to the ends of the earth for to make happy. He'd never envied Mytho so much until then.

Despite the best of efforts; the longings of the heart still manifest themselves through other mediums. Nights soon become torturous as glimpses of what might be, what one wants to be, are shown continuously. Dreaming becomes one's worst enemy as the heart's desires and the mind's realisation constantly engage in a battle between hope and hopelessness. No reprieve can be found and soon the soul grows weary not knowing whether to hold onto the hope that someday the longing shall be fulfilled or whether to accept the unattainability of that which it yearns for the most. Should the dream be kept alive or should it be allowed to scattered into the winds of the North?

Fakir sighed as he thought of his endless struggles to write her back. Even though they had both promised to go back to being their true selves neither had been happy with the results. Her heart ached to be human once more while his screamed to make her his at last. They'd both gone through their periods of depression but he liked to think that they'd come out stronger people because of it.

A crash towards the entrance of the library had him corking his ink well and blowing on his parchment to dry the last lines of his essay. Even though she had grown into her body and lost most of the gawkiness that came with being a teenager, Ahiru was still unbelievably clumsy. Sometimes, Fakir struggled to believe that she had ever been the graceful Princess Tutu.

"Ready to go, moron?" he asked as he held his hand out for her school bag, leaving her with the changing bag; tonight she was washing her class attire.

"Don't call me that," the red-haired girl griped as she fell into step with him as they left the building "and yeah, we're done for today. With final examinations so soon, sensei is trying to get as much practise out of us. He said that you need to come in over the weekend to make up for today."

Fakir nodded in acknowledgement and they fell into a comfortable silence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her taking in their surroundings; eyes still wide with wonder despite having been human for nearly a year. Seeing the pleasure on her face and knowing that it was he who had given that to her made his heart skip a beat every time. The green-haired boy thought back to his conclusion.

Many a man has wasted away dreaming and longing for something that they'd never have. Many have been crushed holding onto a false hope or letting go of something that they'd never obtain again. That unfortunately is the folly of life. I believe however that should the cause be a noble one, the heart could lead faithfully while within the taming constructs of possible failure. For then and only then can one truly satisfy the dreams of one's soul and possibilities of one's mind.

Bright laughter interrupted his thoughts and Fakir smiled as Ahiru chased the small sparrows which flitted past. One day, he'd gather the courage to take their relationship to the next level but for now he was content to be by her side.

Yes, if the cause is a noble one, some dreams are worth holding onto.