Chirp chirp chirp! Chirp chirp!

Chibiusa peeked out from underneath the covers, finding Duck covered in a swarm of hungry birds once again. The events from a few nights ago were still fresh in her mind. Duck was Princess Tutu from the story, the graceful ballerina with the ability to help inspire hope in those around her.

Well you see, I was Tutu then the story ended, so I wasn't Tutu anymore. But I asked Fakir to write me back into being Tutu because I didn't want to see you fight them alone, Duck had babbled an explanation last night. But I'm glad. I wanted to fight alongside you, to help save people's dreams, to help them be happy again.

Chibiusa completely understood the sentiment, and she could see it in Duck's eyes that she didn't want to be a bystander. In a way, Chibiusa understood the feeling as well, that feeling of being unable to fight and having to sit there and watch as everyone else protected her. It was how she felt when she first traveled to the 20th century. At times, she still felt like she wasn't that much help, overshadowed by Sailor Moon and Chibiusa's own future self who had fully awoken the power of her pink crystal.

But that was something she could work towards, and she wouldn't be doing it alone. Chibi Moon and Princess Tutu could work together to restore people's hopes and dreams. They also had Fakir, who could help alter some of the story as well. She heard that hevery good researcher, so perhaps he could find the symbolism of the leaves soon.

She peered at Duck's desk. The leaves were sitting in a glass bowl next to an oil lamp that Duck seemed to treasure. She still couldn't understand how leaves were causing such a reaction in those two, making them act out the scene of a Japanese legend.

"Oh Duck, Chibiusa! If you two wait any longer, you'll be late!" Lilie's chipper voice echoed through the door.

"QUAAAAAA-!" Duck cut herself off, fumbling with her clothing. "C'mon, we'll be late!" Duck, Chibiusa, and Diana all stumbled out the door and down the stairs, parting ways in the courtyard to go to different buildings. She nearly collided with Fakir on the dance building's steps. "Oh hi Fakir, I'm totally sorry I wasn't watching where I was going and-"

"You're late again," Fakir sighed. "You have a few minutes to get up to class, at least."

"Oh right, of course you're right, I'll see you later Fakir I don't want to be late!" Duck babbled as she sped past him and up the stairs towards her classroom.

And here I thought that maybe Chibiusa would be a good academic influence on her, he sighed to himself, peering back out the front doors. It was stormy weather again and had been for the past several days. He couldn't quite recall a time where the skies were anything but clear other than when the Raven had made his appearance. But no one except Fakir and Duck remembered that last part.

"There you are, Fakir."

He turned, stirring from his thoughts, finding a girl with long brown hair tucked into a large bun standing behind him. "Hey Illia."

"I was hoping I'd find you," she smiled at him. "We still need to practice for our roles as Kaguya and the Bamboo Cutter. I was hoping you'd be in today. Some people are becoming spooked by the storm and staying home."

"No storm's going to deter me," Fakir stated. "I'll be right there." He'd been carrying on this scripted life for now, auditioning for the lead role in the Princess Kaguya ballet. Unsurprisingly he had earned it, having little competition from the other male dancers, including that weird Femio who liked to paint himself when dancing. Mytho was the only one who seemed to best him every time, but now he was back in his story where he belonged. Fakir would simply have to dance the roles in his stead.

...

"And one and two and one and two!" Mr. Cat counted the beats for them.

Fakir followed the tune, supporting Illia as she pirouetted and then ended with an arabesque. He could feel her supporting leg a bit unsteady as she stopped and leaned into him for support instead of standing on her toes alone.

"No no, Miss Illia ," Mr. Cat chided her. "You have to arabesque straight from the turn. Use the momentum and rely on Fakir to stop your movement."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cat," she apologized. "Can I try that again?"

"Yes, yes, take it from the entrance into the pirouettes," Mr. Cat nodded.

Fakir and Illia both backed up to the entrance, entering together in a flowing movement, separate yet in sync with one another. Fakir couldn't deny that Illia was a very elegant dancer, but since the stormy weather began, she'd been having some troubles.

Illia, along with many of the classmates present today, had always been in the same class ever since Fakir had first attended the Academy. A good number were absent today, probably avoiding the stormy weather, leaving the more obnoxious ones to interrupt the class with whispers and giggles.

Regardless, Illia had kept up with the dance quite easily, showing her skill and elegance as she moved nearly effortlessly on the pointe shoes. Fakir didn't have the same emotion when he danced with Duck or Tutu, but she was still a very skilled partner, standing tall and strong. He wasn't doing it for the emotion, anyway. He'd save that for dancing with Duck.

As he turned her in the pirouettes, he could feel her becoming unstable again until she'd completely tipped over, falling unconscious. "Illia!" He knelt down, resting her body against his leg as he attempted to wake her.

"Looks like tipsy Illia has done it again," a deer-like student jeered.

"Anyone else would've been a better partner for Fakir," the bunny-like student laughed.

"Enough!" Fakir hissed at the pair. Shifting his arms, he cradled her as he stood up. "Mr. Cat, I'd like to take her to the clinic. Hopefully someone can find the reason why she's having these fainting episodes."

"Go right ahead, Mr. Fakir," Mr. Cat nodded. "I'd hate to have to recast the role to one of these underachievers. I'd rather her well."

Fakir quickly left the studio, hearing the classmates hiss about being called underachievers. In the distance, he was certain that he could hear Mr. Cat threatening to marry them again. He slumped into the chair in the clinic while Illia rested in the bed, listening to the rain pour down outside the window.

The nurses had laid a compress on her forehead, tucking her under the covers for rest. She finally stirred, tilting her head slightly to the side. "It happened again, didn't it?"

Fakir nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Fakir," she apologized. "I keep having these fainting episodes. You deserve a better dance partner."

Fakir frowned sharply. "They want me to do all the work and none of it themselves."

"They weren't always so bad," Illia attempted to reason with the situation.

"I know, it's just lately all they want to do is criticize," Fakir wrinkled his nose. "Petty jealousy of the prima ballerina. Anyway, hopefully we'll be able to find a reason as to why you're having these episodes."

"It's not the first time," Illia frowned a bit. "Back when I was younger, back before you joined the Academy, I was terrified of the rain. And when it would rain, I'd get frightened and faint. Deeria, Bearella, and Bunette used to tease me all the time about it, but then when we got older, the episodes stopped. I didn't think it'd start up again, especially not at a time like this."

"Hopefully these storms will pass soon," Fakir reasoned, "then the episodes may pass too."

"I'm worried that they might not," Illia confessed. "I'd have to drop out of the ballet and possibly the Academy as well. And you'd be stuck with a different partner, trying to learn the entire performance all over again."

"Not happening," Fakir stated sharply. "I'd rather dance with Duck. At least she wants this badly."

Illia recalled the rather awkward orange-haired dancer from the auditions. She barely could pull off an arabesque gracefully but she was trying more passionately than any of Illia's own classmates currently were. "She would've been a great partner with some practice. I just wish our classmates had her passion. I'm not sure what happened lately. They just have lost their love of ballet suddenly. It's like the rain has washed it away. Or perhaps it's that art student Gene they've been obsessing about lately."

Fakir stared at the clinic door. He had noticed it lately too, the lack of compassion in their class. It hadn't been that way during the auditions for the ballet. Everyone had danced so passionately, desiring that central role of the titular character, that coveted spot as the prima ballerina. Was there another story pulling the strings like with Shobolan and Artis? He couldn't think of a story that involved rain and a lack of compassion. He'd simply have to see it through until things escalated. He hated waiting so much, but what choice was there at the moment? He still hadn't found any clues as to what those leaves were or who was spinning these new tales.

Fakir stood up, adjusting his shirt and ballet shoes. "I'm going to head back to class. Get some rest. I'll speak to Mr. Cat about the situation."

"Fakir..." she smiled meekly. "I don't want to give up this role yet. I want to continue dancing with you despite the fainting spells."

"I know." He nodded, opening the door to find three of his classmates pressed against it. They tumbled forward, Bearella nearly taking him out if he'd not leapt backwards quickly. "What are you three doing?" he hissed. "We have practice, stop slacking off!"

Bearella picked herself up, straightening out her dress and fur with her paws. "There's that sharp wit we all know and love. For a moment there, I thought you'd gone soft on Fainty over there."

Bunette hopped back up to her feet, pulling at her tights ungracefully. "I don't know why you even bother, Fakir. She'll never dance as well as we do." She peered around Fakir to see that Illia had fallen unconscious again. "See? She can't even stay awake for five minutes!"

"Class has been cancelled today. You should dance with us instead!" Deeria demanded, shoving her snout forward and into Fakir's face. "We'd make such better partners than she ever would. It would be the dance of the forest spirits, graceful and elegant dryads!"

Fakir frowned. They were acting strangely, more obsessive and pushy than normal. They were Illia's friends and they were showing her nothing but ire. Perhaps there was something altering the story again, much like with Shobolan and Artis, but who was the one acting out the play and who was a victim of circumstance? Either way, the three of them were grating on his nerves. "Get out of my way," Fakir hissed.

"Oh so sharp!" Bearella jeered.

"GET OUT!" Fakir hissed, shoving the three and closing the clinic door behind him. The trio quickly scampered off down the hallway, leaving the echoes of their laughter behind them. Fakir sighed, quickly turning as he heard frantic chirping behind him. In the hallway stood Duck. A robin in a boy's uniform sat perched on her head. He was currently chirping away frantically. Robin was one of music students who often paired with the piano player in the ballet classes as a page turner. Robin was also a notorious gossip.

"Are you okay, Fakir?" Duck worried. "Senior Robin told me that your classmate fainted and that I could find you here."

"Yeah," Fakir sighed, his demeanor shifting to something more pleasant now that the trio had left. "I'm more concerned about Illia. She's been having fainting spells lately."

"She used to have them a lot when we were kids," Robin chirped. "I just thought they stopped. I'm really worried about her."

"She told me about them in her small bout of consciousness," Fakir recalled. "She's resting now, so hopefully they'll pass soon."

Robin spread his wings, taking off and landing on Fakir's shoulder. "You know, she really wants this role."

"I can tell," Fakir nodded. "She dances so passionately when we're practicing. I'm going to talk to Mr. Cat later to tell him what's going on. I'd rather dance this with her than anyone else in our class. They've lost their passion."

Duck pushed her lips together a bit. She was jealous that Illia was dancing with Fakir instead of her, but she couldn't deny that Illia was really good. Even Duck could see the passion in her movements.

"They're all too busy obsessing over that new student, Gene," Robin sighed. "I really don't know what his appeal is."

Fakir recalled the name. There was something about this Gene person that didn't sit right with him. "Illia mentioned him. You know who he is?"

"I do," Robin nodded. "I've seen him a few times. I can point him out to you."

With Robin still sitting on his shoulder, Fakir left for the art building. Duck quickly followed him, curious who this person might be. The art classes were ending and many of the students were leaving for the day.

"The one with the brown hair in that weird upturned curl," Robin pointed him out with a wing. "That's him."

Fakir scanned the crowd, quickly finding the indicated person. He did have a weird curl on his head, curling upward and forward, making a weird ring of a bang that somehow stayed perfect even in the rainy weather. Yet more noticeable than his hair was the swath of girls, including the three ballet dancers from his class, trying to get his attention. "He's a regular Don Juan, isn't he?"

Duck leapt up a few times, trying to catch a glimpse of him. As the crowd began to thin, she could see him between the people as he passed. "He doesn't look special at all."

"That's just it," Robin continued. "He attracts women in droves, but he's obsessed with only one. Illia."

"With Illia?" Fakir echoed. "Why her?"

"Apparently he's obsessed with her dancing," Robin recalled the rumors.

"That explains why the class is angry with her," Fakir reasoned. "But isn't she dating someone already?"

"Josie in the theater division," Robin replied. "They've been dating for years. I'm concerned that he may turn his droves against Illia in order to force her to date him."

"That sounds terribly mean!" Duck commented. "Why would anyone do that? They should date who they love, not force someone to marry them like Mr. Cat does."

Somewhere across campus, Mr. Cat's ears twitched.

"I should probably flit off," Robin announced. "Rumors won't spread by themselves." The little bird spread his wings, flying off towards the gathering of students.

"What are you three looking at?" Chibiusa peered up at Duck and Fakir curiously, Diana mimicking the expression as she nestled in Chibiusa's hair.

"One of your seniors," Fakir replied. "There's something about him that bothers me. I think there's another tale controlling people again, but I just can't figure out which one. We'll have to let this one play out and see where it goes."

Chibiusa frowned a bit, peering off towards the target in question. Another story possibly at play already? The guy didn't exactly seem normal with that weird upturned curl, but everyone was weird. She'd already learned that from sitting next to Crocodette. "Wherever it goes, we'll be ready to stop it."

...

Author's musings

Robin is the embodiment of "a little bird told me"