Has it really been two years? Good news, guys. I am planning to finish this story (for some reason, I got back into Princess Tutu when I started pointe a few months ago) and I have great plans for this. Sorry for not updating, I feel horrible for neglecting you guys and this story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Princess Tutu, at all.

Ahiru had been asleep for a day and a half when she was roused by the ominous clang of the clock tower. Her vision blurred, she could see Fakir beside her stir and awaken. He blinked and facing her, he gave a small smile and asked, "Are you okay?"

Ahiru was beginning to remember some things before she fainted for the last time, and she smiled amiably and reassured, scratching the back of her head, "No worries, Fakir! Although I don't appreciate you leaving me the other day, I'm fine. You look tired though." Truly, Fakir's face had gained dark circles under his eyes, and he nodded in slight agreement. "You just go back to sleep, and I'll just get ready to go, okay?"

They were still at Autor's house, in his bedroom in fact, even though he was nowhere to be found. He nodded again, tentatively this time. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't…remember anything, do you?"

Ahiru's face revealed nothing. "No… I think I just fainted because I was left in that cold, cold forest and then I sat beside a fire. Change in temperature too quickly causes colds." She said very matter-of-factly. "Just go back to sleep, Fakir. I'm going to take a shower."

He settled back into the uncomfortable chair he had been sleeping on, and now that Ahiru was safe and awake, he fell back into a peaceful slumber. Ahiru, as promised, went into the bathroom adjoining to Autor's bedroom and turned on the shower faucet. In the shower, she wondered how much she had missed. Of course, she must have missed a day or two of ballet, considering Fakir's unsightly appearance. They must have been there for a few days. 'Or did I faint on Friday…? Goodness, I faint too much that it isn't a big deal anymore.' Ahiru mused. Drying herself off and putting on the clothes that she had on before, she tiptoed out of Autor's bedroom, pausing only to revel in the peaceful atmosphere that Fakir slept in.

Her dripping hair put droplets of water on the floor, but she figured that Autor wouldn't mind. As Ahiru entered the common room, she still did not see Autor anywhere. The room was a mess, though. Books and pamphlets of all sizes were everywhere, none of the book names making sense to one another. One read, The Process of Writing Fairytales for Dummies; another read All the Information You Need to About Birds! Letters A – R; another read A Walk Down Memory Lane: How to Regain. Assuming that Fakir got this book for her, Ahiru smiled widely and flipped to the first page to start reading. However, something white and green caught her attention.

Walking toward the charred and cold fireplace, she picked out two singed dolls, what she had seen a few days ago. Even though they were burnt, they definitely still were beautifully carved. "Edel and Uzura," she muttered, weighing both dolls in either hands, "How do I know their names?"

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Autor's voice had startled her, and she accidently dropped the dolls. They fell to the floor with a loud sound, and Autor dropped down to pick them up carefully, lovingly. "I had always kept them above my fireplace for some odd reason, but I could not remember what significance they had in my life until…" Autor bored into Ahiru's eyes, and she looked away, not appreciating his stare.

Nervously but also excitedly she asked, "Did that mean you lost your memory too?"

"I guess you can say that."

"What happened so that you regained it, then?"

"Someone helped me offset it, and I remembered."

Seeing that she wouldn't get any other information of his life because he was being so vague, she then said, "Maybe if I meet someone from my former life, I'll remember my past!"

"Isn't that already happening?" Autor asked, once again so vaguely, but with a mischievous, almost knowing smile on his face.

Face contorting into confusion, she looked at the two wooden dolls in Autor's hands. Once again, she queried, more to herself, "How did I know their names…"

Autor only smiled and walked out into the porch, and Ahiru followed. From Autor's house, she could not see Kinkan Town, so she stared out into the forest, only know seeing the rocky path that Autor and she followed to get to the house a few days ago. Sighing and looking anxiously at the doorway, Author said in defeat, "I'm only going to answer some questions before Fakir wakes up, now hurry."

Ahiru didn't miss a beat or questioned why Autor suddenly gave her this favor, "Why can I remember Rue and myself dancing and their names," signifying the two wooden dolls in Autor's hand, "but I can't remember anything else?"

"They were some very important things in your life; seeing them or doing them allowed you to remember some aspects of your life, but not all of it. My…guess is that if you find some more of these things that were important in your former life, you'd be able to remember your whole past."

"What are the rest of those things? I need to remember my past, Autor, it's killing me."

Autor shrugged. "That's up to you to find. It was your life, after all. I shouldn't know what was important in your life before."

Ahiru looked at him suspiciously. "But if you knew didn't know, how would you be able to answer these questions that I have right now?"

Author licked his lips and once again looked at the doorway. "I admit, I once knew you—"

"What? Why did you not tell me this before?" Ahiru exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Albeit not that well, but I knew you. I saw you around. You…helped me on one occasion, and I returned that favor later." His eyes faced the forest wistfully. "You helped most people here in Kinkan Town, Ahiru. You had—still have—a good heart."

"If that's the case, then why hasn't anyone approached me about knowing me?"

"Oh, they know you alright. It's just that they're not supposed to tell you anything, no matter how much you beg. Fakir has told them that it's for your own benefit, that it would be better for you to regain your memories on your own. Either they're too scared or adoring of Fakir to tell you, or they do care for you to get your past back naturally. Plus, most of your past is rather hard to hear," he cringed, not supposed to say that, but Ahiru was focused on something else.

"Wait. Fakir has asked them not to reveal anything?"

"Don't take it personally. Fakir is really concerned for your well-being. It even says, in the book you're holding," she held up the forgotten book in her hands, almost surprised that she was holding it, "that it would be beneficial for you to regain it naturally."

There was another clang of the Clock Tower, and Autor looked at her with a crazed expression, "Listen to me. Don't ever mention this conversation to Fakir. It would not end well for the both of us. Don't even acknowledge me more than you did before. I'm sorry that we couldn't have more time to discuss this matter further and that we probably never will after this conversation, but it's for your own wellbeing—"

"Ahiru?" Fakir's voice emanated from inside, confused.

"Do you promise not to tell him?" Author begged, gripping her arms with eyes still demented.

Ahiru, in horror, nodded, and he eventually sobered. She walked toward the doorway, saying, "Coming Fakir! I'm ready to go!" She said, with her usual excitement. She looked back unsurely to Autor, where he stood in the same spot. She turned toward the doorway once again and didn't look back when he said, with some emotion that she could not decipher but made the hairs on her arms stand nonetheless,

"Just remember, Ahiru. This town knows more about you than you know about yourself."