Once upon a time there was a man. This man had fallen deeply in love with a woman he later married. They were happy for a time, until the woman fell ill. When she died so, too, did his heart. Hurting and desperate, the man asked a witch to take away his suffering and make him forget her very existence. The witch agreed, and so the next morning the man awoke heartbroken with no recollection of why. What the man did not realize was that though the mind may forget, the heart never does.
The practice room was quiet and dimly lit with natural light filtering in through the window wall. Classes had ended long ago, and most Goldkrone Academy students had flittered off to their after-school activities. As per usual, one lone figure stood at the barre, practicing her basics with a decided refinement. First. Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Her head was held high and the serene expression on her face belied the sheer concentration she put into every transition.
She cycled through the basic positions again, breathing deeply as she mentally checked her turnout, making sure her knees were perfectly aligned with her toes. Shoulders back, spine straight, fingers graceful, lift up. Again, and again—sometimes en pointe.
Once satisfied with her basics, she transitioned into tendu, pointing the toe of her working leg and stretching it to the side. She closed her eyes as she practiced, focusing on the feeling of her muscles clenching and stretching as she moved her leg.
The light flashed on, causing her to pause her practice and turn toward the light switch.
"Ah, Miss Arikuimi. Technically perfect as always." The Goldkrone Academy Ballet Instructor gave a few light claps as he stepped into the middle of the room.
Recognizing her instructor's voice, Ari relaxed and inclined her head slightly in gratitude. "Thank you, teacher."
Nodding in response, her instructor walked past her, his arms folded behind his back as he looked out the window. He was silent for a long moment and it weighed heavily on her. She already knew what was coming; it had been a coming for a long time now.
He let out a deep sigh before he finally spoke. "Miss Arikuimi," he closed his eyes and leaned his head forward thoughtfully, "I believe it is time to reevaluate your position in the advanced class."
"I know."
"It isn't a question of your skill."
"I know."
The instructor looked up now and opened his eyes but continued to look out the window. "You've always been one of my best students, against all odds. You've worked longer and harder than anyone else in my classes. As I've said before, your technical execution is far more advanced than your peers."
"Thank you."
"Unfortunately, you've been lacking a certain…"
"… passion?" Arikuimi supplied dutifully.
He looked at her now, his mouth curling sympathetically at the corners. "Well… yes, to put it succinctly."
She nodded. She had known for a while now. She remembered a time when she danced with purpose, when she had a goal, but she didn't remember when or why it had gone away. If anything, it seemed to be a reoccurring problem for her. Ari knew she loved dance, but it had become something more of a routine for her. Practicing had become akin to meditation for her. It was calming and she reveled in the feeling of total control of her body. She couldn't imagine her life without it, but she couldn't bring herself to feel excited for it, and she didn't know what was missing.
"Considering what an exemplary pupil you've been, I want to do an actual evaluation to give you the chance to find yourself again. Two weeks from today seems a fair amount of time."
"Thank you," she inclined her head in a show of gratitude
He nodded and turned to leave. "Do your best, Miss Arikuimi."
"I will." She waited quietly for the instructor to fully leave the room before she slid to the floor with a groan. It felt useless. She had worked so hard to get into the advanced class, and here she was, about to lose her position because she lost her most important skill as a dancer. Did he think she hadn't been trying to regain it this whole time? There was no way she'd be able to accomplish this in two weeks. She almost wished he would've dismissed her outright and spare her the embarrassment of a failed evaluation.
Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. She had overcome so many obstacles. She had been teased almost relentlessly for how tall and sturdy-built her frame was—the opposite of what was expected of a ballerina. But she had proved them all wrong. Through her sheer determination and insane amounts of practice, Arikuimi advanced faster than any of her peers. Her execution was always spot on, and no one could even come close to doing as many consecutive pirouettes as she could. She might've had an imposing stature, but she could move with a certain light gracefulness that even the most petite of her peers struggled with. So why did her passion fail her now? She had come so far.
Arikuimi stared at her frayed lavender practice shoes for a few moments before pulling herself back up. She rolled her ankles, wrists, and neck before closing her eyes and drawing her limbs into first position.
When in doubt, she would continue to focus on the basics.
"Ahiru… I don't mean to rush you, but it's been a few months. Can we… discuss… revisit… Ah, hell." Fakir groaned and dropped his forehead into the palms of his hands. Why was this so hard?
"Can we… talk…?" He'd been trying to practice saying this for at least an hour now, and he really didn't know why he still sucked at it so much.
"Ahiru. I know you said you weren't sure about your feelings, but some time has passed, and I was wondering if you'd reconsider… uhm… how you… feel…" He groaned again. "Shit."
Wasn't initially confessing your feelings the hard part? She already knew he loved her, so why should it be hard to tell her again? He ran his hand through his hair as he tried to come up with a better way to start the conversation.
What was he supposed to do if her feelings hadn't changed?
He had to know, though. He couldn't live in this weird limbo of "maybe, maybe not" forever.
"Ahiru, I know you said you weren't sure about your feelings, but I feel like—no, that's stupid—hrm… after everything we've been through the past few months—god, I sound like an idiot—maybe you have a better understanding of what—Fuck, what's so hard about saying 'Ahiru, you know I love you, and you said you weren't sure, but it's been awhile, and I need to know if you've changed your mind'?!"
Ah, if only it could be that easy. He let his head fall back into the palms of his hands. If he said it like that, he'd risk scaring her. He needed to be delicate, show that he respected her feelings and decisions. It seemed impossible to do so while asking this question, though.
One more time, "Ahiru, I know you weren't ready to have this conversation back then, but I hope you wouldn't be offended if we revisited it…" Okay, that wasn't so bad. "I… love you…" Should he re-confess his feelings? Was that too forward? "My… feelings haven't changed, in fact, they've grown…" he winced at this. No, too much. "My feelings haven't changed." How was he supposed to convey himself properly without sounding like a whiny child who demanded attention from his crush? He inhaled deeply before exhaling.
Okay, again. "Ahiru, I know—"
Tonk tonk.
A knock sounded from his door.
"Hey, Fakir—"
Fakir nearly fell out of his chair at the sound of Ahiru's voice. His chair wobbled loudly on the floor as he jumped out of it and rushed over to the door, flinging it open. "Ahiru! How long have you been there?" he asked entirely too fast. To try and compensate for his flagrantly out-of-character behavior, he leaned against the door jamb in what he hoped looked entirely casual.
Ahiru eyed him warily. "Uhm… I… just… got here…? Why?"
"N-no reason." Fakir shrugged and folded his arms, praying he looked nonchalant.
"O…kay. Uhm… I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the library… is this not a good time, or something?" She cocked her head as she tried to make sense of his strange behavior.
"No, now is fine—I'm not doing anything." He cleared his throat, realizing that he had responded too quickly again, and tried to force himself to speak slower this time. "The library sounds good."
"Uh… right. Okay. Uhm. Do you want to go now…?"
"Actually, I need to take care of something first. Meet you downstairs in five?" He resisted the urge to slam his face into the door jamb. Meet you downstairs in five?! Who even talked like that? Certainly not him.
"Okie dokie!" Ahiru smiled before heading downstairs.
Quietly closing his door, Fakir immediately collapsed facedown into his bed. His cheeks were burning, and he wondered if Ahiru noticed how red his face undoubtedly was. How did she have such awful timing? It was like the greater powers that be wanted him to make a damn fool of himself until his head exploded from all the blood in his body pooling in his face.
At least it seemed like she didn't hear anything he had been saying before she knocked. He forced himself into a sitting position, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. Hopefully he didn't make even more of an idiot of himself at the library.
Ahiru bit her lip as she sat across from Fakir, trying to sneak glances up at him from beneath her bangs. He was pouring over the text in some scholarly book about fairytales and themes or whatever. She probably shouldn't have asked him to join her at the library, she couldn't possibly research what she wanted to research with him here, but she couldn't help herself.
A blush blossomed across her cheeks as she studied him from across the table. He was so handsome. The way his dark hair framed his face, and the… the shape of his nose… Her blush spread. Did he know he furrowed his eyebrows when he was focused? It made his expression so… so… She unwittingly sighed, and his dark green eyes shot up to her, catching her staring at him.
Her eyes widened as she quickly averted her gaze, praying he didn't notice but knowing in her heart of hearts there was no way he had missed it. Her cheeks were definitely bright red now.
"Something wrong?" Fakir asked.
Ahiru quickly shook her head. "No!" She ducked her head back down, biting her lip and praying she looked like she was focused on the text before her, when she was anything but. She was positive the new hue of her cheeks was clashing ostentatiously with the salmon of her hair.
"Okay." Ahiru could hear the raised eyebrow in his voice and she wished she could just disappear into the ground. Curse her romantic, air-headed heart. She had forgotten how tragically lovestruck she acted when she had a crush.
Though was it really just a crush if he liked—loved—her back? She chewed on the inside of her cheek, eyes wide as she tucked her chin to her chest and stared blankly at the book in front of her. The thought of Fakir fawning over her the way she fawned over him flitted through her mind. It was ridiculous, of course. She knew he'd never fan himself in glee or sigh longingly as he imagined…
What would his romantic fantasies be? Him being her knight in shining armor, rescuing her from some nefarious plot? Her confessing her feelings to him the way Ahiru often imagined him doing to her? Dancing the way they had at the Fire Festival? Perhaps kissing her the way he had intended to that night—
A strangled sound of excitement bubbled up Ahiru's throat before she could stop it. If she thought her cheeks were red before…. Quickly attempting to cover it up, Ahiru ducked her head into the crook of her elbow and produced a series of fake coughs.
"Are you okay?"
Letting her coughs devolve into an awkward chuckle Ahiru waved him off. "Y-yeah, yeahyeah, I'm fine. I'm just… uh, y'know, this book. I'mgonnatogetanewone." She clambered out of her chair, rushing to avoid any further questioning.
She ambled behind a nearby bookcase and pressed both hands to her burning face.
Must she be so awkward?
A moment passed as Ahiru tried to calm herself down and forget whatever that hideous noise was that she had emitted just minutes ago. Once it finally stopped replaying in her head, she slowly slumped forward, letting her hands rest upon her shins. It was going to be a long visit to the library if she couldn't keep her emotions in check. Ahiru sighed and straightened her back; she may as well look for another book like she said she would.
"Fakir!" An unfamiliar simpering voice rang through the library, earning several hushes from librarians and nearby patrons.
Ahiru's brow furrowed as she tilted her head toward the source of the sound, trying to better hear what was being said.
A tittering followed along with some softer, obviously insincere apologies came from even closer than before.
"So the rumors are true!" Whoever they were, they were speaking quietly enough it was more of a struggle for Ahiru to hear. Frowning, Ahiru inched toward the end of the bookshelf she had taken refuge behind and peaked out at where she had been sitting moments ago.
Besides Fakir stood a girl in the Goldkrone Academy uniform. "Fakir does still frequent the school library!"
Fakir's response was even quieter and Ahiru couldn't make out a single word.
"That's true, I guess…" The girl giggled after she paused and coquettishly introduced herself, daintily offering her hand to him in a way that suggested he kissed it.
Ahiru's lip curled in displeasure. Who even did that anymore? Even as Fakir ignored it, her gut roiled with annoyance, anger, and—and… something else. She couldn't place it as she watched the girl continue to forge ahead as if her hand hadn't been rejected. Slipping around the table, the girl sat down across from Fakir in Ahiru's seat. The sheer audacity of the action had Ahiru seething.
Her chair. The girl just sat in her chair!
Involuntarily her hands curled into fists, clenching so hard they shook.
And she was trying to hit on-on—!
Images of Ahiru yanking the girl's stupid brown ponytail as hard as she could and throwing her to ground flashed in her mind. Hitting her, scratching her, wiping that ugly shit-eating grin off of her dumb face.
Ahiru recoiled at the thought. She would—she could never! How did such horrible, violent thoughts come from her own mind? Even horrified at her own thoughts, however, the same atrocious emotion still bubbled inside of her, seeking release. Shaking her head, Ahiru stumbled backwards, away from the girl, away from Fakir, and she ran.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Ahiru cursed herself under her breath as she wandered aimlessly around the campus. She was being childish, and she hated that. She hated that she encountered something she didn't like, and just ran away. Who runs away from unpleasant situations? Children. Children run away from unpleasant situations.
She sighed and shoved her hands into the pockets of her skirted overalls. Despite her self-admonishment, she wouldn't even consider going back. Whatever repugnant feelings had burgeoned inside of her had lessened but hadn't gone away completely. She hated it. The way her heart burned and felt like it was being twisted with this ugly emotion. Those awful invasive thoughts had terrified her—she had no idea where they had come from. That wasn't who she was.
Shuffling a rock along with her shoe, Ahiru tried to push all the unpleasantness from her mind. It was a nice day, and she didn't need this sour mood to ruin it for her. Glancing up, Ahiru paused as she realized she was near the ballet wing. A small smile grew on her lips—a visit to her old haunting grounds was just what she needed to distract her.
It was fairly deserted—not usual for this time of day. She'd be more surprised if there had been more students out and about. Though Ahiru enjoyed the energy of a bustling campus, she appreciated the quiet tranquility right now.
"Oh!" Ahiru stopped short when she noticed a figure in one of the practice rooms.
A tall, curvy girl with long fluffy brown hair pulled into a low ponytail stood perfectly poised at the barre. Ahiru watched in awe as the girl cycled through the basic positions.
"Wow…" Ahiru murmured, awestruck. The grace with which she moved was mesmerizing and possibly even rivaled Rue. She made it look absolutely effortless, standing en pointe as if it were as easy as breathing. Despite dancing fairly regularly as Princess Tutu, Ahiru doubted she could be half as graceful doing the basics—even if she wasn't en pointe. The girl looked vaguely familiar, and… so empty.
A soft warmth emitted from her chest and slight glitter in her periphery caught her eye. Grasping her pendant in her fist, Ahiru considered her course of action. Though campus was mostly deserted, there were a few students scattered about, and transforming out in the open wouldn't be the best choice.
"Ahiru!"
Ahiru dropped her pendant in surprise, whipping her head toward the source of the shout. "Fakir?"
"What the hell?!"
She winced in embarrassment, remembering her sudden and unannounced departure from the library.
"You said you were going to get a book, and you just leave?!" Fakir threw his arms out in front of him for emphasis as he approached her before repeating, "What the hell?!"
Ahiru puckered her lips sheepishly and looked down at the ground, "I, uh…"
"You uh…?" Fakir's voice was snarky when he finally reached her, crossing his arms and impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for her to explain.
She lamely shrugged. "I dunnu, I went to look for a book, and I got, uh… Hm."
"Hm?" Fakir repeated what she said, again.
"Got dis… tracted?"
"Distracted?" He looked wholly unimpressed.
Ahiru pouted, hoping she could win pity points by looking as pathetic and as sorry as possible.
"Oh no, don't look at me like that. If you wanted to leave, you should've just said something and—you were the one who wanted to go to the library in the first place!"
Ahiru sucked her lips inside her mouth sheepishly. Fakir had every right to be upset with her, and it wasn't like she was thinking logically at the time. This… this… feeling had her so upset all she could think to do was run, but she recoiled at the thought of telling Fakir about it. He would think her disgusting, the way such violent thoughts fluttered through her mind. She thought herself disgusting. She didn't want to watch his esteem for her fall before her very eyes.
Fakir huffed and ran his hand through his bangs in agitation. At least she had the good graces to look apologetic, though he hated when she used her large, distractingly blue eyes to get out of trouble. He had waited thirty minutes before he started looking for her and one of the student workers informed him she had left a while ago.
"Just—" he huffed again and dropped his hand to his side, "don't do that again, okay? I don't care if you get bored or wanna leave or whatever, I just want to know."
She nodded sorrowfully. "I know, I'm sorry, I just…" Ahiru gestured awkwardly with her hands, knowing she didn't have any good explanation. What she had did was objectively crappy and she really did feel bad about it. Glancing back at the window to the practice room, she noticed the girl had left. She'd have to worry about that another time.
With wide, mournful eyes, Ahiru looked up at him and grasped his hand, tugging on it gently to wordlessly ask him to follow her.
He sighed, but quickly fell into step beside her. A moment of silence passed between them before Fakir spoke up. "Where are we going?"
"Err… well," Ahiru began, "I know it's not like… I mean, it's not a good apology, but I was thinking… y'know, I saw these uh… apple things?"
"You mean the apple candy stand?"
"I guess?" She cocked her head, trying to remember the sign. Honestly, she really only saw the pictures of various apple-based treats they sold. "I was thinking it would be nice? We could each get something different and share it or something."
Fakir gave a half chuckle, she really was something. He wanted to be mad at her, but she made it hard to stay mad, and it wasn't like her running off to do her own thing was anything new. "Fine, but this doesn't get you off the hook."
"I know." She clutched her hands behind her back and shot him another pout.
"Seriously. Don't do it again."
"I won't," she nodded apologetically.
Groaning, Fakir dragged his hand down his face. He didn't stand a chance against her.
Why Ahiru thought it was a good idea to search during the school day for the tall girl she had seen yesterday, she didn't know. It was stupid of her. Campus was bustling with activity and though she was certain she'd be able to pick the girl out in a crowd, there was nothing she could do with so many people around. She dejectedly puffed up her cheeks and expelled the air with a slight popping sound.
To make things worse, it appeared she was recognizable to a certain demographic of students. She fiddled with the belt loops on her denim shorts as she walked past groups of girls whispering and stealing glances at her, pretending she didn't notice and it didn't bother her.
Finally having enough of it, she took refuge in a more secluded part of campus, far from the main halls where the students mainly populated this time of day. Once the next period started and most of the students were back in class, she'd make her escape.
"Well, well, well. I believe I've heard about you." A vaguely familiar voice pulled Ahiru from her reverie.
"Eh?" Ahiru looked around in surprise before a girl sat down on the grass next to her. Not a girl, the girl. The tall girl from yesterday.
"Relax," the girl gave her a half smile, "I'm not one of those rabid Fakir Girls." She rolled her eyes and made air quotes as she said 'Fakir Girls.'
"Huh?"
"You really don't know?"
"Uhh…" Ahiru blinked. "I mean, I know what a Fakir Girl is, I just don't know what you mean by you've heard about me…?"
The girl laughed. "Mostly whispers from the more involved faction of Fakir Girls. The odd rumor here or there. They've been abuzz ever since The Firebird, and it just about died down until the Fire Festival." Ahiru made a face and the girl offered a sympathetic smile. "I don't see why they're so obsessed with him, to be honest—no offense to your boyfriend or anything, but—"
"We're not—!" Ahiru waved her hands between them, as if physically trying to dispel the notion. "He and I aren't, well, y'know. We're not like that."
Ari cocked her head curiously. "Aren't you? People were saying you were awfully cozy at the Fire Festival."
"I mean—that was—! We weren't—!" Ahiru flubbed hopelessly as she tried to think of a way to explain the events of the Fire Festival away. Perhaps she should be more prepared for this line of questioning at this point.
"And you don't… want him to be your boyfriend?"
If Ahiru's face could've turned redder than it was already, it would have. "Well, I mean—that's not to say—I wouldn't—I mean, it's awfully pre—I don't—"
The girl laughed at Ahiru's flustered face. "Okay! Okay. It's fine, you don't have to answer that." She gave herself a second to calm her laughter before she continued. "My name is Ari."
"Ari…?" Ahiru repeated her name back slowly before recognition dawned on her. The last time Ahiru had seen her, Ari had been, well, a giant giant anteater. Now that she realized it, she could see some similarities in her features. Her long, thin facial features; her tall, sturdy frame; her dark, almond-shaped eyes; her fluffy hair even resembled her now-gone tail somewhat. Realizing she was staring, Ahiru shook her head and held out her hand. "I'm Ahiru."
Ari shook Ahiru's hand politely before resting her own hands behind her in the grass, propping herself up. "Don't worry too much about what they think. They're just jealous."
"Jealous?"
Ari shot Ahiru a sympathetic look. "They can't stand that Fakir is expressing interest in someone and it's not them—As if they ever stood a chance with him in the first place." She turned her head toward Ahiru, a conspiratorial grin stretching her lips. "When I saw you sitting here, I couldn't resist a chance to see whom they'd all been worked up over."
Ahiru leaned her chin on her knees, "I guess you're probably disappointed, huh?"
Laughing, Ari shook her head. "Not in the slightest!"
"Hm." Ahiru absentmindedly tangled her fingers together.
"Tell me—Ahiru, was it?" Ari barely waited for Ahiru to confirm with a nod. "Do you dance at all?"
"Not well, to be honest."
Ari tittered in response, clearly delighted by her answer. "Truly? Be honest now, are you just being humble?"
Ahiru shook her head, baffled as to what Ari could possibly find so funny.
"Oh, how delicious!" Ari leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her now. "Did you know Fakir was one of the most talented danseurs Goldkrone Academy has produced? Not only was he popular for his looks, but he was incredibly talented."
"Yeah… I might've heard that…" Ahiru mumbled as she chewed on her cheek, unsure if she liked where this conversation seemed to be heading.
Sensing her conversation partner didn't find as much amusement in this fact as she did, Ari sighed. "Yeah…" She blew at some stray strands that fell on her face as she folded her legs in front of her. She spoke again, this time in a more resigned tone, "I'm in the same boat as you, y'know."
"Whaddaya mean?" Ahiru cocked her head to the side. Ahiru had seen with her own two eyes how amazingly skilled Ari was, surely she wasn't blind to her own skill.
"Dancing and me… we're not… we're not on speaking terms right now."
Ahiru balled up her fists, unable to contain her objections. "No way! I saw you practicing the other day! You're amazing!"
Ari looked at her in surprise. "You saw me?"
"I—I wasn't trying to be creepy or anything, I swear! I just happened to pass by the practice rooms while you were working the barre. You're very graceful!"
Giving her a half-hearted smile, Ari looked back down at her lap. "Thank you for saying so, but that isn't the issue."
Ahiru frowned as she thought back to the way Ari had been holding herself—so dignified and poised… but… she had been so empty, too. A telltale warmth sprouted in her chest where her pendant was nestled underneath her white shirt, reminding her why she had been looking for Ari in the first place.
"Ari, wo—"
The loud chime announcing the end of the period rang throughout campus, causing Ari to straighten up.
"I've gotta get to class. It was nice meeting you." She gave Ahiru a more sincere smile than her last before standing up.
"Wai—" Ahiru jumped up as well, desperately trying not to lose her second chance.
Ari was already waving over her shoulder, "I hope we see each again, soon. And don't worry! The Fakir Girls are already getting over it."
"But I…" Ahiru sighed and let her shoulders slump. "Darn it." Ari had literally walked up to her, and she still managed to let her get away without helping her. 'Next time,' she promised herself, 'next time.'
Fakir wiped sweat off his brow as he took a break from drawing out the piece of iron he was working with. From the color it glowed, he knew it'd be making a mistake to work it any further before throwing it back in the coal forge. He exhaled heavily as he rested his hands on his hips and leaned back slightly to stretch his chest. At least today's order had been simple hand cultivators instead of something more involved, but he found the drawing process to be tedious. At least this was the last set of prongs before he welded them together. Sighing, he plunged the cooling metal piece back under the coal.
"Hey Fakir!"
Fakir started at the sudden exclamation, but quickly collected himself before calmly turning to the intruder with a raised eyebrow. "Ahiru."
She grinned toothily up at him before conspicuously peeking behind him. "Whatcha makin'?"
"Just some farm tools."
Puckering her lips thoughtfully, Ahiru rocked back on her heels. "Hmm…"
Fakir shot a quick glance at the color of the metal in the coals before crossing his arms and tapping an impatient finger on his elbow. "Alright, what do you want?"
Her eyes innocently rolled up to the right as she shrugged. "I dunnu, I thought maybe we could… go out?"
He had to stop himself from choking in response. Go out? Why was she like this? Did she really never think about word choice before she spoke? He closed his eyes and tempered himself before responding. "Go out…?"
"Yeah, like, y'know… go for a walk? Maybe get something to eat? Hang out?"
"Didn't you just come back from a walk?"
Ahiru made a face and shrugged. "So?"
A quick glance told him his metal needed to be taken out now. "Alright, sure, after I'm finished with this."
"When will you be done?"
Fakir turned his back to her and pulled out the white-hot iron. He moved carefully so as to avoid any disastrous metal-to-skin contact. "A lot sooner if you don't keep bothering me."
She tilted her head curiously as she watched scales shed from the piece as he hammered it. If it weren't for the natural time restraints on how long the metal could be worked before it needed reheating, Fakir probably would have chastised her for hanging about, but aforementioned time restraints being what they were, he dutifully continued drawing out the piece he was working on until he no longer could. Luckily, as a quick comparison to the other prongs he had already made confirmed, he managed to get it to the right width this heat.
"Are you going to watch me the entire time?" He asked, setting his hammer down.
Ahiru shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. I've never watched you… uh…" she scrunched her nose as she tried to think of the proper term, "smith…?"
Fakir chuckled. "It's not that interesting. Just a lot of heating things up and hitting them."
"Still… It's kinda cool to see the metal get all… different."
"Different. Right."
She puffed up her cheeks in annoyance. "You know what I mean, jerk! Gees, it just—it looks neat, okay?"
"What, are you interested in learning how to blacksmith too, now?" Fakir teased as he set the piece back in the fire to prepare for welding.
Ahiru considered this for a second, thoughtfully tapping her chin with her finger. A moment passed before she shook her head. "No, probably not… though…"
"Though…?"
She leaned forward, her eyes alight with excitement. "Youcanmakeallkindsofthings, right?"
"Well, in theory, yeah. I'm not quite at the level Charon is. Charon could probably make anything out of metal."
Ahiru narrowed her eyes as she briefly considered metal ballet slippers before shaking her head when she quickly realized how impractical they would be. "I'm sure that's true, but I'm more curious about you." A sudden thought flashed in her mind, demanding release, "Like could you make like a sword?"
Fakir stiffened slightly at this. A sword? "Why would I make a sword?" His tone might have been a little cooler than he had intended.
"Oh," Ahiru straightened back up, looking abashed, "right." She laughed awkwardly. "I guess no one really uses swords anymore, so… I just—that was a silly question."
Forcing himself to relax, Fakir shook his head. "They can be popular, especially when sold at festivals. Charon just prefers to make more practical things."
"Yeah, of course. That makes sense." She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. "Uhhh… I should-uh, I should probably let you work." When he didn't respond Ahiru nodded awkwardly and started to leave.
"I could."
She stopped at the sound of his voice and turned her head back towards him. "What?"
He didn't look up at her as he repeated himself, a bit louder this time. "I could make a sword."
Ahiru gave him a small, awkward smile. "If there's anything I know about you, it's that you can do anything when you put your mind to it."
His lips twitched upwards and he looked up at her. "It'll probably take me an hour to get this finished and get cleaned up."
"Okay, I'll be waiting."
Ahiru groaned miserably as she buried her head under her pillow. Could she be any more of a walking disaster? She failed to help Ari out—despite Ari walking right up to her, while they were alone, no less—and then she went straight to Fakir and upset him.
Could he make swords? Why would she ask him such a stupid question after all the struggling he did a few years ago? Could he make swords?! What an idiot she was! How could she be so carelessly inconsiderate? The dumb thought came to her so suddenly; it just burst from her lips as if she had no control over herself. She wanted to crawl into a hole.
And it was like that, with her pillow atop her face, regretting her very existence, that Fakir happened upon her after cleaning up. He leaned against the jamb of the door, an amused smile curling his lips.
"Decided to take a nap?"
"What?!" Ahiru bolted upright, flinging her pillow across the room. "Fakir!"
He chuckled as he retrieved her pillow for her. "Did I wake you?"
"No!"
"You know, most people sleep with their head on top of their pillow, not the other way around."
She stuck her tongue out at him as she took her pillow back from him and thrusted it back into its place on her bed.
Smirking at her, he offered her his hand. "You ready?"
Despite glaring up at him, she begrudgingly took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. It took her a second to right herself, but once she did, she held herself with a mock haughtiness. "Yes, I am ready."
"Alright, well, after you." Fakir gestured toward the door of her room.
Delicately raising her chin in acknowledgement, Ahiru brushed past him and headed downstairs.
"Did you have anywhere in mind?" Fakir asked as he followed after her.
Dropping her act, Ahiru shook her head and looked up at him as she slipped on her shoes. "Not really. I just kinda wanted to walk around some more, and it's more fun when you're with me." She beamed up at him.
Fakir ran his hand through his bangs in an attempt to hide his smile. It was the smallest things—things that had someone else said them would've meant nothing. She would be the death of him, and he would cherish every moment of it. Holding the door open for her, he gestured with his head. "Well, come on."
They quickly fell into step next to each other as they aimlessly wandered about the streets. The weather was perfect—a few fluffy white clouds dotted the sky, a light breeze kept things cool, and the sun shone bright, but not hot—that alone made Fakir grateful to have agreed to join her, but he was always grateful to be in her presence regardless. Perhaps an hour of idly chatting and strolling about passed before they decided to get a slice of pizza at the pizzeria.
Sighing in appreciation, Ahiru bit into her slice—she honestly couldn't remember the last time she had had pizza. She grinned broadly at Fakir after she swallowed her bite. "Aren't you glad I talked you into coming?"
He shook his head knowingly, a reserved smile on his own face, as he continued chewing his own bite.
Making a small exclamation of victory, Ahiru continued eating her pizza.
"Hey, hey! Look, it's Fakir!" A hushed voice travelled from the entrance of the pizzeria, catching Ahiru's attention.
"No way!"
"Aw, it looks like the rumors are true!"
Ahiru furtively snuck a peek towards the source of the voices, three girls wearing the Goldkrone Academy uniforms huddled around the door, loudly whispering amongst themselves. She forced herself to swallow her food and, taking a sip of her water, returned her focus to the table she was sitting at. Fakir seemed to have not noticed them—perhaps years of his peers fawning over him gave him the ability to drown it out.
'Just ignore them, Ahiru,' she mentally coached herself. 'You're here eating pizza with Fakir. Nothing else matters.'
And she was successful in ignoring them… well, mostly. Really, once they were sat down and eating, their conversation turned to complaints about classes and gossip about their classmates. After that, it was easy for Ahiru to ignore them. By the time she and Fakir were leaving, she barely even remembered them.
Until, that is, a fair distance away from the pizzeria they passed another group of girls dressed in the Academy uniform who openly scrutinized her.
"Really? Her? If he had to start dating someone, he could've picked someone who was actually, I don't know, pretty?"
"It's such an insult that he'd date someone so boring and plain. I bet she can't even dance."
"Oh, come on. Fakir's so kindhearted, she's probably dying or something and he's just dating her out of pity!" At the third girl's insertion the group started laughing.
Ahiru's fists clenched at this. So what if she was dying?! Well, not dying, but going to—it didn't matter! They weren't dating, and it wasn't any of their business, and also, he had not even an inkling of her predicament, so obviously that had nothing to do with his feelings for her and—!
Her heart was pounding and her guts twisted inside of her, boiling at their words. How dare they! Is this what people have been saying about her the entire time? Have they just been remarking on her plainness, how mismatched she and Fakir were? Waiting for her to just drop dead so they could take him from her? How had she not heard them before?!
Fakir was hers. He had always been hers. He promised to stay by her side, forever. He kissed her. He wanted her. He loved her and no one else. For eternity, whether she was alive or not. She would ruin him for anyone else.
"Fakir," she spoke his name softly and threaded her fingers through his.
"Hm?" He glanced down at her and the look on her face stopped him dead. She was sending the most scathing glare that he was absolutely certain the likes of which had never twisted her features before. The only thing in her line of sight was a small group of academy students taking turns doing impressions of one of the more eccentric professors on campus, and he doubted Ahiru was close enough with the engineering professor to be offended by it, and certainly not to that extent.
Looking back down at her, he was surprised to see an almost sickly sweet expression on her face, her eyes trained on him now. The difference was so extreme he wondered if he had imagined the glare in the first place. She smiled at him, her eyelids drooping alluringly as she turned to face him, and he followed suit. Her thumb traced small circles on the back of his hand and she shyly looked to the side.
Was she… being coy? The thought hit him suddenly, his cheeks coloring at it, as he watched her slowly draw the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth. "A-Ahiru?" He swallowed and willed himself to keep a steady voice.
She peered up at him through her thick eyelashes, her eyes still heavily lidded. Whatever he was going to say died in his throat as she stepped closer and looked down at their joined hands. Releasing his hand, she watched as she slowly trailed her fingers up his arm and delicately curled them around his shoulder.
When she turned her eyes back to his, it was like nothing else existed. Here she was, the girl who had enamored him so completely. Beauty was a concept created by the freckles speckled across her perfect cheeks, the slight curve to her nose, and the seas contained in her eyes. And she was looking at him, drowning him on sight.
He felt her fingers slide up the back of his neck and gently urge him closer. His eyes never left hers as he complied. Had she heard him other day after all? Was this her response? Her other hand rested on his chest and she used it to help stabilize herself as she leaned up on tiptoe. Or perhaps this was her way of confessing? He had kissed her before, after all. She tilted her head tantalizingly to the side, and he let his eyes start to fall closed when hers shot to the side again, giving him pause.
Was she… sneering?
He pulled back ever so slightly in surprise when something else even more alarming caught his eye.
Her pendant was dark gray.
Gripping her upper arms, he pulled back from her more forcefully, concern furrowing his brow. "Ahiru, stop. What are you doing?"
Hurt clearly splayed across her face as she stared wide-eyed up at him. Her lip trembled slightly, "I-I…"
"Something's not right." Fakir released her arms, worried he was unintentionally causing her pain by squeezing them too tightly in his panic.
She unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing at the very spot he had released, looking anywhere but at him. "I just thought…" Her eyes darted around the road they stood on, becoming glassier by the second. Was everyone staring at her?
"Ahiru—"
They were all staring at her. She could feel it. They had seen everything. How he pushed her away from him in disgust. How he practically flung his hands off of her as if she had burned him. He had spurned her, and everyone had seen it. Tears spilled down her face as she took an unsteady step away from him.
Jeering laughter stabbed at her from all around.
Everyone was laughing. Everyone knew. It wasn't even just the students anymore. It was everyone.
"Oh my god! Did you see that?!"
"She just threw herself all over him!"
"What an ugly, stupid girl!"
"No one could ever love a duck!"
"Ahiru, are you hearing anything I'm saying?" Fakir leaned toward her, desperately trying to get her to look at him. Seeing her tears and increasingly wild expression, Fakir reached out for her, but he was too late. She turned on her heel and ran.
He pulled his empty hand back, clenching it in a fist, and pumped it slightly in frustration before letting it fall dejectedly to his side. "Moron," he quietly cursed himself. So how does he handle this one? Chase after her? Give her some time? How did he keep messing this up so fantastically?
He rubbed the back of his neck; the color of her pendant worried him. If he was being honest with himself, she hadn't been acting herself at all. Ahiru wasn't… seductive—well, maybe one day she mi—but that wasn't the point—that wasn't Ahiru. He felt like an absolute idiot letting his attraction to her cloud his senses. He let his guard down and, in the process, he hurt her.
She looked so utterly destroyed. Fakir really screwed up again. She trusted him, obviously against her better interest, and he took advantage of her again. Shaking his head, Fakir mentally berated himself. Chasing after her would only make things worse. He turned and began shuffling back to the house.
Ahiru tried to ignore all the faces staring at her as she sprinted through the town.
"Look, it's her!"
"Did you hear what she did?"
"He threw her off of him! He was so disgusted by her!"
"Can you believe she thought that he'd want to be with her?! Despite all the hideous lies and half-truths she told him?!"
"He'll be glad once she's finally dead."
"There's no place in the real world for her!"
"She just a duck."
Clenching her eyes shut, she burst through the nearby tree line, running blindly as she lifted her arms to protect her face from the low branches that whipped by.
He rejected her. She tried to kiss him, and he rejected her. He had probably seen right through her. Seen through to her heart and the ugly, hideous feelings twisting inside of her. He was disgusted by her. He wanted nothing to do with her. She was a fool for thinking his declaration of love for her could've ever been more than a flash in the pan.
Sobbing, she fell to her knees at the base of a large tree and buried her face in her hands. Nothing was going right. She wasn't supposed to have these nasty emotions, these urges to physically or emotionally harm every person who even thought Fakir handsome. She was supposed to be helping people, not whatever this was.
She was disgusted by herself—it was no wonder Fakir had also been so. If she could turn back time, she would've just stayed home. Perhaps then she could've avoided the groups that had triggered… whatever that was. Ahiru didn't understand it, and she didn't want to.
Tears spilled ceaselessly from her eyes, wetting her hands, and running down her arms. With every tear it felt like more and more energy was sapped from her, and sitting there, weeping at the base of the tree, Ahiru lost consciousness.
Pounding.
Her head was pounding.
Ahiru moaned as she started stretching her legs, trying to place the unfamiliar fabric covering her.
"Oh good, you're up."
Blue eyes flew open in surprise, blinking a few times as the world came into focus. This was not her room. It wasn't entirely unfamiliar either though. In fact, minus the furnishings, it reminded her a lot of Pique and Lilie's room at the academy.
Ari leaned into her line of vision, an amused look on her face. "Forgot you fell asleep here, eh?"
Frowning, Ahiru sat up, gingerly pressing a hand to her forehead as she tried to recall what had happened the night before. Nothing really stood out to her… Except—
Her face instantly turned bright red as memories of her failed attempt to kiss Fakir resurfaced. She could've gone without remembering that bit.
"What was up with you last night, anyway?" A sly grin crossed her face. "Lover's quarrel?"
Ah, yes. There were the tears, prickling at the back of her eyes.
Seeing Ahiru's glassy eyes, Ari rubbed the back of her head and averted her gaze apologetically. "I'm sorry; I'm not the best at… well, people. I've been told I come on a little strong."
Ahiru shook her head. "It's… it's okay. It's not you." Her voice wavered as she struggled to talk around the lump that had formed in her throat.
Ari busied herself by pouring a glass of water from a nearby pitcher. "But, seriously. You had me kinda worried. You were just standing in the middle of campus… like… totally blank faced. You didn't even react when I tried to talk to you. When I finally got you back here, you just passed out."
Biting her bottom lip, Ahiru pulled her knees to her chest. She went back to campus? Ahiru had absolutely no recollection of that. Nor did she remember running into Ari and being ushered to her room.
With a shrug, Ari handed the freshly poured glass of water to Ahiru, who whispered her thanks. "I would've taken you back home, had I known where you lived. I figured at least this way you were somewhere safe."
"Thanks," Ahiru murmured again after downing the entire cup of water. She was surprised at how thirsty she was. Part of her was tempted to ask for the rest of the pitcher, but she resisted—depending on where Ari's dorm room was located, refilling the pitcher could be quite the hassle.
"There's a campus nurse; I don't think she'd be opposed to taking a look at you even if you aren't a student…"
Ahiru shook her head, "I'm okay. Just… in a weird headspace."
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah."
Shrugging again, Ari started packing up some of her things. "Alright, far be it from me to force anyone to do anything. You can stay as long as you need to, I guess. This room is right by the stairs, so you should easily be able to find the exit."
"Do you have class?"
"No, I'm just packing up all my stuff for class and leaving you by yourself because I like being spontaneous—of course I have class."
Ahiru gave an awkward, sheepish laugh. "Right… I'm sorry to have been such a bother."
"It's…" Ari paused, staring at her half-packed bag, "It's okay. I happen to live alone in a double, so it didn't put me out at all." She gestured distractedly at the second bed not far from the one Ahiru was in.
"Well, thanks either way. I really do appreciate it."
"I don't… I don't really have any friends, and you're… well you're nice. I wanted to help you out. We all need someone to help us out sometimes."
Ahiru smiled; she hadn't expected such a heartfelt sentiment from Ari, but it made her feel less out of place. "Well, if you need someone to help you out, I'm here."
Blushing slightly, Ari returned to packing her bag. "Okay, enough mushy stuff." A moment later she shouldered her messenger bag before turning toward Ahiru. "I gotta go. The door auto-locks, so just keep that in mind if you need to go to the bathroom or somethi—Oh. The bathrooms are down the hall that way," she pointed to the left, "and on the left."
"Okay, thanks."
"Alright, see you." Ari waved before exiting her room, leaving Ahiru completely alone.
It was strange, and wonderfully familiar: the feeling of making a new friend. It had been so long since Ahiru had let herself do so, and perhaps this one happened purely by accident, but didn't many friendships happen that way? A pang of guilt twisted in Ahiru's chest as she remembered why she didn't let herself make new friends. She had so little time left, it seemed cruel to waltz into some's life just to disappear. Perhaps it would be okay, though. Ahiru wouldn't be around much longer, and certainly Ari wouldn't have enough time to get too attached to her. Besides, apparently Ahiru needed all the help she could get with her sudden memory loss.
"I'll make it up to her," she announced to the empty room. Yet another run in with Ari, and Ahiru had failed to get her fragment again, but she would repay Ari's kindness next time. She'd get that fragment and resolve whatever hang-ups Ari had left from the story, and then maybe, maybe Ari would be able to dance freely again.
A mischievous glint shone in her eyes as they fell on a small, rectangular chalkboard hanging from the wall by the door. It was divided into seven equal segments and the word "Schedule" was neatly printed at the top.
"That'll definitely make things easier."
Sneaking around had been a lot easier when she was a duck, Ahiru decided. And, she decided, sneaking around school made her feel a lot less creepy when she was actually a student. As it was now, she was awkwardly folded up, sitting upon a closed toilet in the girls' bathroom, waiting for the final bell to sound the end of classes for the day. She already felt grody from wearing the same clothes that she not only wore the day before, but slept in, and now she had spent the last hour hanging around in the bathroom. The end of the day and her time hiding in there was near, though, and, unless Ari didn't keep her schedule up-to-date, Ari would have one of the practice rooms all to herself.
It had already felt like a lifetime had passed, and with nothing else to do, Ahiru found herself repeatedly revisiting the unpleasant events that took place the evening before. With some distance, and the unfortunate amount of time she had nothing to do but ruminate, it didn't seem… right. It was like she was in control of herself, but she also wasn't? Yes, she, Ahiru, wanted to kiss Fakir—thought about it more than she wanted to admit—but she had been so… forward. She didn't think she was capable of that sort of forwardness. Even in her own fantasies she couldn't fathom being so… whatever that was. With her experience and confidence levels, Ahiru was fairly certain she was more a demure, awkwardly trying to hint Fakir should make the first move kind of girl. Maybe once she got more comfortable with that sort of… thing… maybe then she would be able to do all those things without her face catching fire from blushing too hard.
Maybe, it was sorta like being possessed? She wanted to kiss him, but not like that. Whatever it was, it was obviously Drosselmeyer's doing. Toying with her pendant, Ahiru chewed on her bottom lip. Regardless, Fakir rejecting her like that… it hurt. Telling herself she wasn't in her right mind, or that this was all Drosselmeyer's fault… it didn't make the fact that he pushed her away from him—probably, and rightfully—in disgust sting any less. She'd have to go home eventually and face him again, but for now… She'd hide in the bathroom closest to the practice rooms until school was over and convince herself it was purely to catch Ari by herself and had absolutely nothing to do with avoiding Fakir.
She did feel a little bad that she hadn't been home since… well… that moment. She hoped Charon and Fakir weren't too worried about her—though she knew they most undoubtedly were.
Graciously, the bell finally rung, calling the final class to an end. Almost instantly, a muffled cacophony came from the hall as students began rushing home or to afterschool activities. A good thirty minutes passed before the noise finally died down, and Ahiru waited at least another fifteen minutes before stiffly setting her feet down on the floor. Her knees ached slightly after being folded up in one position for a couple of hours, and she gave herself a minute to let her muscles adjust to being unfolded before standing up.
As she snuck out of the bathroom, she mused over what she would do if she were unlucky enough to get caught. Ahiru was the right age to be in school, but she very clearly wasn't wearing a uniform. Maybe she could say she was a new student? Though, they'd probably just take her to the dean's office. She could always say she had a… cousin who went to Goldkrone Academy, and she had come to visit them. Ari might even play along if it came to that.
It didn't come to that, though, as Ahiru was able to get to the practice rooms without any obstructions. All but one were empty, and a brief peek into the occupied room verified that it was Ari.
Ahiru leaned against the wall next to the door and gripped her pendant. Now was the time. Closing her eyes, she let her transformation overtake her.
"Ari," Princess Tutu's voice crooned invitingly as she practically glided into the room, "what bothers you so?"
Ari turned towards the prima ballerina, her tendu faltering in surprise. "Who are you?"
Princess Tutu smiled pleasantly, "A friend."
Ari eyed the other girl suspiciously but found herself drawn toward her regardless. Cautiously, Ari approached her, falling into a classical walk without even noticing it. "A friend?"
"Something is stymying you, and I want to help."
Ari stopped at this, surprised. Had this strange ballerina seen right through her so quickly? Could she possibly know what she had lost? "H-how?"
"Please, won't you dance with me?"
Ari stared at the other girl curiously as she mimed an invitation to dance. The prima ballerina was almost completely dressed in dark gray—perhaps better described as off-black. Despite the color scheme of her costume, which normally indicated evil characters in ballets, Ari found herself enchanted by the soft, welcoming features on the other girl's face. Ari had never been much for hesitation and didn't want to make a habit of it now; not wasting another second, she took the outstretched hand.
As they danced together Ari's troubles spilled from her lips like water, "I don't know what's wrong. Something's missing, but I can't say what for sure. I used to have… something. I don't know what."
"Does dance no longer bring you joy?" Princess Tutu asked.
Ari started to object, but fell short. Was that the problem? Did she no longer love dance the way she once had? Was that why she hadn't been feeling with it lately? "I don't… I don't know."
Princess Tutu smiled empathetically as she supported Ari through a penché. "It's okay if your heart has moved on. Sometimes we outgrow the things we were passionate about when we were younger."
Ari closed her eyes as she tried to imagine her life without dance, without ballet. What would she do instead? So much of her life had been dedicated to the art, and she had gone through so much torment from her peers and overcome so many barriers. She was a tall, large woman who had been called mannish and often forced into roles for danseurs when there weren't enough males to cover those roles—but now she was also a tall, large woman who danced with the grace of a swan.
"No." Ari spoke adamantly as she landed a double tours en l'air. "I can't imagine my life without dance. It's not my love of dance that's in question. It's…" Ari thought hard, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "Someone…"
Thoughtfully, Princess Tutu spun around Ari. Someone? Who had been so important in Ari's life before that it would affect her dance? Recognition suddenly lit up her eyes. Of course! She had been in competition with Rue! Though she had decided to pursue her own style, it's likely she continued to consider Rue both her rival and an inspiration. Now that Rue was gone…
She guided her steps back to Ari's side, setting her hands on the other girl's waist to prepare for a lift. "Is it… perhaps… you've fallen complacent in your dance, then?"
Ari stretched her back and lifted her leg, surprised the tinier girl was strong enough to actually lift her off the ground. "I think… I think I have."
"You miss the thrill of being competitive in your dancing, don't you?"
Nearly faltering in her step, Ari caught herself. Competitive? Ballet wasn't…
But it was. It always had been for her. She fought longer and harder than anyone else, and the fruits of her effort were evident. She knew she was the best in her class. No one could compare to her absolute control over her limbs.
"Yes." Ari admitted, surprising herself. "It feels almost like there used to be… someone I could strive to be better than… but… there isn't."
"It's okay to want to be the best," Princess Tutu assured her as they performed chaînés turns away from each other. "When you're passionate about something, it's only natural. But, you can't always take external motivation to keep you going."
Ari stopped, her arms raised in fourth position. "But… what else is there?"
Lowering her upper half gracefully, Princess Tutu deferred to Ari. "From within."
Frowning, Ari considered this. Motivation from within? A bright smile stretched her lips when it finally clicked. "Of course!" She felt like laughing, she felt so light for the first time in a long time. "I have to compete against myself!"
The corner of her lips curved upward as Princess Tutu watched Ari joyfully spin into a series of pirouettes. Though she, herself, would not choose to phrase it that way, it truly brought her happiness to see Ari dance fully present again. She had gotten so much better since the last time they had danced together.
Finally stopping her pirouettes after she had lost count—and goodness did it feel good to just spin—Ari came to a precise stop back into fourth position. "Having reached the top of my class, I had forgotten my goal. I want to challenge expectations in the world of ballet, but I'll never do that if I let myself get discouraged simply because I bested my peers. I have to keep bettering myself, no matter what. Thank you!"
As the black light shot from Ari's chest, she fell to the ground with a grace that could only be expected of a ballerina at the top of her class. Ignoring the brief, sharp pain that came with the light entering her pendant, Princess Tutu approached Ari and leaned her comfortably against the wall like she had done with Pique. With a satisfied smile, she let her transformation fall.
Ahiru hummed softly as she left the school grounds and headed back home. This last fragment… Ari had been so happy. For the first time in months, Ahiru felt like she had made the right decision. Ari had needed her help, and look how happy Ahiru was able to make her. The sheer glee in her face as she pirouetted raised her hopes. Ari would be okay. And maybe… maybe so would she.
"Ahiru?!" Fakir's muffled voice was preceded by a clattering sound from upstairs.
And Ahiru came crashing back to reality. Regardless of whether or not she helped heal the hole Rue left in Ari's heart, she was still a disgusting freak who tried to force herself on Fakir the evening before. Panic flooded her senses as a thunder of footsteps pounded down the stairs toward her. She briefly considered running away before she found herself being crushed to Fakir's chest.
"God, don't do that again!" Fakir buried his face in her hair as he pressed her tightly to him.
A hundred possibilities of what 'that' could be ran through her head.
"I figured you wanted space, but when you didn't come home—" Fakir shook his head, trying to shake all the various scenarios that have been running through his head for the past day.
'Oh.' Ahiru thought mournfully. That 'that'. Licking her lips, Ahiru tentatively wrapped her arms around Fakir's middle. "Sorry…" she mumbled, her voice stifled from being squeezed against him.
Finding himself, Fakir released her and pulled away, much to Ahiru's chagrin. To her dismay, she realized he was averting his gaze from her. Nervously he raked his hand through his hair. "Tell Charon I won't be home for dinner."
"Wha—"
"I, uhm," Fakir started slipping on his shoes, "I haven't told him that you hadn't… yet. So, he won't be… he won't be worried."
Ahiru stepped out of his way as Fakir walked past her. "Oh, o—" he closed the door behind him "—kay."
Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. The sheer emotional whiplash was dizzying. One second he was holding her close, the next he couldn't get far enough away from her—skipping dinner to do so.
Her heart broke as she realized he really was disgusted with her.
"Ho ho ho," a boisterous laugh rang throughout the dark lair, echoing over the soft, mechanical clicking of the thousands of gears slowly spinning ever on. "Well, well, well little duck! Looks like—"
TUP TUP TUP TUP TUP
"—Uzura will you stop that racket?!" Drosselmeyer growled over the loud drumming from his tiny assistant. "I can't even think!"
Uzura glared at the old man with as much rage as her tiny little body could muster—which was a surprising amount. Defiantly she banged on the drum even louder.
THUP! THUP! THUP! THUP! THUP! THUP!
"Ooooh!" Drosselmeyer groaned. There was no use trying to stop her when she got like this. "It's so hard to find good help these days," he pouted.
Ignoring the complaining old man, Uzura turned her attention back to the gear spinning before them. Depicted on its glassy surface was Ahiru sobbing in her room, her shaking form unmistakable under her bunched-up blankets.
Ahiru and Fakir were supposed to be lovey-dovey. This was not lovey-dovey at all. In fact, Uzura was very sure it was quite the opposite of lovey-dovey. Drosselmeyer had promised her all in due time, but Uzura was tired of waiting.
With a small "hmph," Uzura turned on the ball of her foot and marched away, banging louder with each step.
"Ugh," Drosselmeyer groaned with relief when the drumming finally faded from his earshot. "Finally! Now where was I…?" His large, almost demonic eyes shot back to the gear in front of him. "Ah yes!" He squealed gleefully. "What a mess you've made for yourself little duck… Tick tock."
A/N: And I'm back! I sincerely had not intended to take this long to get this chapter out. I had been working on it, and then, well, I think y'all know the rest of the story. I hope everyone has been staying safe and healthy! These are difficult times, so please be kind to yourselves and others.
You know, originally, I had this chapter plotted to be Malen, but I decided she was the perfect funky li'l lesbian for Lilie when I reconstructed the plot a few years ago—and I felt Malen's arc had been brought to a satisfying end in canon. I ended up spending a chunk of time trying to figure out who to move here, and I'm very glad I decided on Arikuimi (Anteaterina). I've discovered I adore her? More Arikuimi appreciation!
Anywho, take care everyone! Until next time!
