Once upon a time, there were two friends. Like many friends, these two cared a great deal for each other, to the point where they felt more like family. One day, an evil sorcerer separated the two, and ripped all the memories of one from the other. For a long time that friend suffered, wondering what was taken from her that left such a hole, until the memory of that, too, faded. Except, there was no sorcerer after all. Sometimes, people grow apart, and sometimes we forget them. And sometimes, reality is much darker than fairytales.

Uzura hummed quietly to herself as she mindlessly rapped on her drum. Around her gears clicked rhythmically, creating a discordance with the beat she played and hummed. It was dark, but not frighteningly so—the small girl actually found it to be quite comforting.

Exploring the inner workings of the story was one of Uzura's favorite things to do in her free time—which she had a plethora of. Once, a long time ago, she met the puppet whose ashes she was created from in the inner workings, and she sometimes hoped to run into that puppet again.

It could get lonely in this strange, dark place, but sometimes Uzura would find flashback cogs. She loved those. Usually it was Fakir's flashback cogs she'd find, but sometimes she'd find Ahiru's or even one of the minor characters. Her personal favorite was the one where Fakir was remembering Princess Tutu dance with Mytho beside a funeral pyre for the other her. That puppet that was but wasn't Uzura was so mystifying to her. And Princess Tutu danced so prettily.

Today she didn't find any flashback cogs, instead she found something she had never seen before—at least, not in her excursions. Today she found a cog whose image was blurred around the edges, and some of the figures inside it were hazy.

As she approached closer, the sound of children laughing grew louder, prompting Uzura to stop her drumming. The image depicted Fakir fighting off two small kids, all three armed with wooden swords. The kids were ill-defined, their faces looked like they'd been smudged, but they were unmistakably happy.

Suddenly the image rushed forward, almost as if Uzura was running at the three of them, a wooden sword just visible in the periphery, and a familiar voice rang out as the sword was thrust forward toward the children. "I'll save my brave knight!"

"Is that Ahiru, zura?" Uzura leaned closer to get a better view.

"No mommy! I'm the knight! Daddy's the evil sorcerer!" The voice, despite being full of laughter, was strangely void of characteristics—like it could convey emotion and make words but didn't actually exist.

"Oh, okay then." The image turned to Fakir and the sword was pointed accusingly at him instead. "You won't trick me again, evil sorcerer!"

Uzura watched as Fakir, the undefined children, and who she assumed was Ahiru play. Screeches of laughter and peals of giggles almost drowning out the incessant clicking of the gears. The quiet thip of something small falling on her drum surprised her, drawing her attention away from the cog and to her drum. There on the batter head was a tiny puddle of water, next to which another drop fell. Feeling her face, Uzura found tears had begun spilling down her cheeks. An unfamiliar heaviness weighed inside her chest—almost like someone was gripping at her heart. She frowned and wiped at the tears with the back of her hand.

Suddenly unwilling to look back at the cog, Uzura carried on, her eyebrows knit in deep thought. As she walked away, the image on the cog began to change as the soft, dreamy pastels became dark, glaring, and harsh. The laughter was gone.

Ahiru's eyes flew open when she jolted awake. Ragged breaths wracked her frame and her bangs clung uncomfortably to her sweaty forehead. A shiver ran down her spine, causing her to shrink deeper into her mattress. It was still dark out, though the soft telltale noises of Charon getting up from down the hall gave her the impression it wasn't long before sunrise.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will herself back to sleep. She didn't remember much of the nightmare she awoke from, but she remembered the feeling of emptiness that sucked at her heart. Flashes of gray and black played in her mind's eye. Squeezing her eyelids shut tighter, little specks of red, blue, and green appeared in her vision, dancing like static in the lack of light. Releasing the tension in her eyelid muscles, the staticky specks of color gave way to indeterminable shapes that continually changed until they faded into the nothingness.

Ahiru hated nightmares. She never really remembered any of her dreams or nightmares once she woke up, but nightmares always left her feeling so unsettled. And, because she couldn't remember what happened in them, she never had a way to try parse her feelings. It was suddenly feeling like something bad was happening and not knowing what or why.

With a sigh, Ahiru adjusted herself, fighting against the sheets that stuck to her sweaty body, so she could sit up. There was no way she would be able to sleep with this feeling of doom in her chest. She rubbed at her eyes, resting her head on her fists and staring again at the phosphenes that danced behind her eyelids. The resulting patterns were much brighter and more vibrant than before. Once the pressure became uncomfortable, she pulled her head away and opened her eyes back up.

A moment passed as her eyes adjusted to the change in pressure and being open before she started getting out of bed. With her clothes and sheets clinging to her, she never felt like she needed a bath more than now. Trudging to her closet, Ahiru lazily gathered her comfiest looking clothes before heading to the bathroom. Maybe after rinsing off and soaking in the hot water, she'd be relaxed enough to fall back asleep.

"Ahiru? What are you doing up so early?" Charon asked as they passed each other in the hallway.

Ahiru half moaned, half mumbled an incoherent response.

Charon chuckled quietly before nodding. "Alright, I'll leave you to it, then." He patted her on the shoulder before continuing on his way.

Once in the bathroom with the door securely shut, Ahiru peeled her damp nightgown off and plodded to the bath.

The warm water had the opposite effect of what she desired, and Ahiru found herself wide awake after cleaning herself off. She stared at herself in the mirror as she toweled off. The scar on her stomach was lighter than it had been last month, but not by much. At least it didn't hurt nearly as much. Lately she rarely even noticed it—though if she turned wrong a nice jolt of pain would remind her.

Satisfied with her dryness, she quickly threw on the clothes she brought with her before setting off for the kitchen. Some warm buttered bread sounded lovely at the moment—especially now that she was no longer confined to plain white bread. As she sat and waited for the oven to heat up enough for her to toss some bread in, Ahiru traced the pattern of the table's woodgrain. A dreamy smile took up residence on her face as her mind turned to its usual fantasies.

"You look so radiant in the morning, Ahiru. The sunrise pales in comparison." She giggled to herself as she imagined Fakir cupping her chin and stroking her cheek with his thumb—oh, how she had grown fond of his gentle touch on her face.

"I want nothing more than to bask in the glow of your beauty." Ahiru shook her head, trying to keep the stupid grin off her face, but it stayed there all the same.

"I've gotta focus. The bread only needs a couple minutes," Ahiru admonished herself as she put her bread in the oven. The last thing she wanted to do was burn her precious bread.

Dragging her chair directly in front of the oven so she wouldn't forget, she sat down and leaned her elbows on her knees. Her efforts did little to stifle her imagination, however, as her mind quickly wandered elsewhere. Images of her and Fakir dancing together in absurdly ornate costumes flittered in her head. He'd dip her low to the ground, like he had in the lake of despair, but this time…

"Oh!" Ahiru gasped as the smoky scent of burning crust jolted her out of her fantasy. "Oh no!" Quickly pulling the bread from the oven with her mitts, Ahiru cried out in frustration as she saw the scorch marks on the bottom of the bread. "Are you kidding? I was right here!"

Sighing, she turned off the oven and put her mitts up before inspecting the bread again. It definitely had some burnt parts… maybe a lot of burnt parts… but at least the whole thing wasn't burnt. It was probably still edible… mostly.

"Trying to burn the house down this early in the morning?"

Ahiru jumped in surprise. "Fakir?!" She whipped around to face him. "What're you doing up?!"

Fakir raised an eyebrow as he walked over to her. "I'm usually up around this time." He looked down at the bread. "You're not going to eat that are you?"

"It's not that bad."

"Really."

Ahiru pouted and glared up at him. "If I cut off the crust it should be fine!"

"You're going to remove the crust from a crusty bread?"

She opened her mouth and shut it a few times before puffing her cheeks and looking away. "Yeah, so?"

Fakir shook his head and laughed. "Alright. You could do that. Or…"

Ahiru looked up at him curiously. "Or?"

He shrugged. "Or we could go to the breakfast place Charon and I used to go to when I was younger."

She pressed her lips together as she deliberated for a moment before she nodded. "Okay. You may take me to this breakfast place, I guess."

"Oh, I may, may I?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "How did you manage to burn it that badly? Didn't you use the timer?"

Ahiru made a sheepish face. "I didn't think I'd need it, because I was sitting right in front of the oven."

Fakir glanced at the chair beside them and shook his head again in amusement. "Only you could manage something like that. Use the timer, moron."

"Fiiiiine." Ahiru wanted to object, but she realized she didn't have much ground to stand on in this case. "Let me go change into an outside outfit and we can go. Unless you want to criticize my bread more?"

He shooed her off with a handwave, to which she responded by sticking out her tongue at him. Turning on her heel, Ahiru marched up the stairs and into her room before changing into a pair of black overall shorts and a burnt orange crop top with puffed sleeves. As she was pulling on her yellow over-the-knee socks, an annoyingly familiar jarring feeling came over her as the world around her halted.

"Well, well, well, little duck."

Ahiru squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will away the apparition she knew was there. Though it was disappointing to see his menacing eyes in the shadows upon opening her own, she was not surprised. Shoulders slumping in defeat, she sighed.

"Oh, come now, you didn't think that would really work, did you?" Drosselmeyer guffawed.

Rolling her head toward him in annoyance, she sent him what she hoped was her nastiest glare. "What do you want?"

This only seemed to amuse him, however. "Do I have to want something to visit the star in my greatest tragedy yet?"

"When have you ever visited me without wanting something?"

Drosselmeyer laughed. "So accusatory! And here I merely came to see how you were doing. From the looks of it you've had a full recovery."

Ahiru made a face at him. "Yeah, no thanks to you."

"Your words wound me! I sent the boy, didn't I? And I sped your recovery along. Not to mention I gave you nearly two months' worth of a break—no fragments, no visits from yours truly!" He shot a look of feigned hurt at her.

"You sent Fakir to help me?" Ahiru looked at him incredulously.

He flashed to another shadow, now showing the rest of his upper body. Shrugging his now visible shoulders, he replied, "Well, I sent Uzura to get him, but all the same."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure. And I'm sure there was absolutely nothing that could have been done to prevent me from getting stabbed in the first place."

Drosselmeyer grinned and his visage appeared in a closer and larger shadow, causing Ahiru to jump slightly in surprise. "What could I do from here, little duck? I was as powerless as that heir of mine who was desperately clawing his fingers raw outside the barrier you put up."

"I doubt that."

His grin took on an air of malevolence. "Now why would I ever lie to you?"

"I may not be as smart as Fakir is, but it doesn't take a genius to know you'd take advantage of anything for some added drama!"

"My, my. You have such opinions on me, little duck!"

Ahiru shook her head. "Whatever. Get to the point."

"So brusque! And we could've had such a lovely little chat about how your time is going, what your plans are for your last two or so months…" Drosselmeyer made a mopey face. "It doesn't have to be all business, y'know."

She looked him pointedly.

"Oh fine! Have it your way, then. I came to tell you your little break is over; it's time to get back to work. There are fragments out there yet—four by my calculations."

Her brow furrowed. "And what if I don't want to collect anymore fragments?"

"Questioning your role in things, are we, little duck? It's dangerous to be unsure of your role, especially this late in the story." Drosselmeyer flashed to a shadow by her window, large enough for his whole body to be visible. He shrugged. "No matter, the deal has already been made. Serve your purpose or not, you will die come the end of your year. Though, tell me, would you be satisfied leaving suffering in your loved ones' hearts? It's not just side characters you rarely see who are suffering—some are closer than you think."

A chill ran down Ahiru's spine at the thought of anyone suffering from her negligence—more so those she held dear to her heart. She groaned in frustration. "Why won't you just tell me what the fragments are?!"

"What's a story without a little mystery?"

Exasperated, she threw her arms in the air. "Of course! Not even three months left and I'm hardly a step closer to solving it, but yeah, a little mystery sounds great!"

The low rumble of his laugh reverberated through the air, making the hair on her arms stand on end. "There, there, no need to get upset. By now you have enough of the puzzle pieces to figure out the final picture—maybe you just need to think harder." Ignoring the sour face she made, he continued. "Regardless, it's time to start bringing this story to an end. Time to collect the last pieces, little duck."

His presence disappeared from her room as quickly as it imposed itself on her. Frustrated tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, and she wiped at them in annoyance. Why couldn't he just tell her? Would it really affect the outcome of his plans that much? She hated that she had no leverage against him. There was no evil big bad guy she could try and best, it was just her going up against this mystery ending brought on by mysterious circumstances that she didn't seem to have any power over changing.

She agreed to become a powerless pawn in a game she didn't know the rules of—and she had a feeling she was losing.

Once the tears had subsided, Ahiru inspected her face in her mirror to make sure it wasn't obvious she had been crying. Satisfied that she didn't, she adjusted her socks before heading downstairs. As she descended the stairs, she briefly considered telling Fakir about her encounter, but thought better of it once she saw him leaning against the wall. Nothing new had been revealed by Drosselmeyer during their encounter, and it would only worry him to know.

A light blush crept up on her cheeks. 'He looks so cool…' She thought as she bit her lip.

Fakir straightened up when she reached the bottom stair. "Took you long enough. You ready?"

Ahiru made a face at him. "Yeah." She gestured in front of them sarcastically. "After you, sir." Chuckling, Fakir turned toward the door and the two slipped on their shoes.

It was a nice day outside—despite it not yet being fall, Ahiru felt like it could be. Gone were the blistering hot days of summer. Instead, the sky was bright with a few white, puffy clouds, and a light breeze caressed their skin as they walked along the streets. Even without the breeze, the temperature was comfortable enough one could wear a sweater and not feel overheated.

The restaurant was one Ahiru had never been to before. It had a cozy, homey atmosphere, and the food was delicious. The two shared a traditional German spread of cheeses, meats, jams, and, of course, bread. By the time Ahiru tried every combination she could think of, she was thoroughly stuffed.

"I'll never eat another bite of food as long as I live," Ahiru lamented.

Fakir laughed. "You're just saying that because you overate."

"Nope. Not this time. I'll never eat again. That's it for ol' Ahiru. No more food. I ate all I could in this lifetime."

"Sure you have. Do you want to walk it off?"

Her lips curled back in disgust at the thought. "I'd sooner die. Just leave me here. This is the end. Today I become one with this chair."

"Stop being so melodramatic. Come on, the park isn't far from here. We can walk there and then you can sit there and digest. Sound good?"

"Uggghhh," Ahiru groaned. "Fiiiiiine!"

The two paid for their meal before heading out, Fakir half dragging Ahiru as they walked to the park.

"We're in the park, can't we sit now?" Ahiru whined after they reached the very edge of the park.

"So dramatic." He shook his head in amusement. "Come on, just a bit further in."

Ahiru cried out in displeasure. "Whhhyyyy, though? Just let me collapse here. It's too late for me, Fakir. I'm a goner. One with nature. I've achieved my truest natural state: a rock."

He stifled his laughter as he pulled her along. "Rocks don't complain this much."

"This rock does."

Pointing at a tree not far from them, Fakir tried to encourage her, "Look, we'll go sit over there. It's not that far. The apples on that tree still aren't ripe and aren't as likely to fall while we sit."

She pouted the whole way before dramatically collapsing at the foot of the tree. "I made it, happy?"

"Very." He sat down next to her, albeit considerably more gracefully than she had.

Whining all the while, Ahiru lazily turned over so she was on her back, alleviating the pressure on her stomach. Staring briefly at the apples hanging above her, she pouted at Fakir. "If a single apple falls from this tree while we're here after you made me walk all this way, I will never forgive you."

He shrugged in response, and the two sat quietly in the shade. It had been a while since they had spent time at the Apple Tree Park. The last time Ahiru came clean about Princess Tutu and Drosselmeyer—well, mostly clean. Sucking the inside of her cheek between her teeth, she stole a peek at Fakir from the corner of her eye. Did he remember the last time they were here? Did he remember the hurtful things she had said to him? Or how she confessed many of the secrets she had been hiding from him? Or the look in her eyes when he held her chin?

Fakir must have sensed her stare, as he, too, looked at her from the corner of his eye. When blue and green met, matching blushes stained their cheeks and they both quickly looked away.

It was Ahiru who eventually broke the silence. Laughing a tad uneasily, she spoke, "I know I've been complaining about how much I ate, but breakfast was really good. If I never eat again because I ate too much this morning, then at least my last meal was delicious."

"I suppose it'll just be me and Charon eating all of his delicious meals from now on. All the soups, stews, sausage, schnitzel, spätzle…"

Frowning at Fakir's teasing tone, Ahiru relented. "Okay, fine, I'll probably eat again. Just stop, my stomach hurts just thinking about it."

He gave a triumphant chuckle before the two settled into a comfortable silence as they digested. It was a lovely afternoon, ushering in the beginning of September. A soft smile graced Ahiru's lips as she leaned her head on Fakir's shoulder. The leaves had yet to start changing color, but she could feel the promise of a gentle fall in the air.

Glancing down at her from the corner of his eye, Fakir shared her smile and leaned his head atop hers. Moments like these were a gift he wasn't wont to squander. Perhaps they weren't a couple like he wanted to be, but their relationship was something deeper. After everything they had been through, they had an undeniable connection. As they sat there a sense of peace settled over the two, and Fakir's eyes started to drift shut.

"Say, Fakir…" Ahiru's soft voice prodded at Fakir's consciousness. His heart fluttered hopefully, chasing away the remnants of any sleep that had flooded his senses.

"Hm?"

"What do you think Rue and Mytho are up to?"

His heart sunk in disappointment, but he tried to brush it off. "I don't know…" He straightened up and leaned his head back against the tree trunk. "Being happy?"

Ahiru nodded, her lips puckered thoughtfully. "Yeah… it must be hard to be royalty, huh?"

Fakir stroked his chin. "I imagine so. Why are you asking about Mytho and Rue, anyway?"

She shrugged. Admittedly, her train of thought was a bit scattered, and she wasn't sure it was worth trying to explain. "I dunnu. Just wondering. I hope they're happy and they live a long life together."

"Yeah, me too." He bit the inside of his cheek. Was now a good time to readdress their happiness? Breathing in deeply, Fakir began, "Ahiru—"

"Oh my! What a tragic coincidence!" An annoyingly familiar high-pitched voice drew their attention. Some distance away stood Ahiru's best friends—which, unfortunately, neither had any recollection of being. The blonde girl, whose name Fakir couldn't remember, giggled in a way that almost seemed malicious.

"The unrequited love runs into the happy couple! Oh, now you'll have to fight for your honor, how cute!" Squealing into her hand, the girl roughly pushed her magenta-haired companion forward, sending her tumbling closer.

"Lilie!" the girl screeched as she struggled to regain her balance.

'Kay… something?' Fakir thought, frowning as he tried to remember the girl's name.

"Pique!" Ahiru shouted, bolting to her feet. She reached out to help her friend up, only to have her hand slapped away.

"Don't!" Pique glared at her as she straightened herself out and brushed at her clothing. "I don't need your help."

"Pique, I—"

"Just drop it, okay?!" She huffed and brushed past Ahiru, sending a scathing scowl back at the cackling Lilie.

"I just wa—"

"Drop it!" Pique struggled to keep the rising tears out of her eyes. She was painfully aware of Fakir's presence, of him staring at her. She swallowed, struggling to ignore the large lump in her throat as she tried to keep a brisk, metered pace. The last thing she wanted to do was look like she was running away in front of him. Pique had dignity.

Ahiru frowned remorsefully as she watched her once friend walk away from her. Turning her attention to Lilie, she placed her hands on her hips. "Lilie! That wasn't nice at all! Pique and I are friends, we're not going to fight! We talked about this la—" She stopped short, realizing as far as Lilie knew, there wasn't a last time. "I mean—oh! It doesn't matter!" Resisting the urge to just stomp her foot in utter frustration, she looked at Fakir. "Fakir—"

He put up a hand, gesturing for her to go. "It's fine, go ahead."

"Thanks," she murmured gratefully before chasing after Pique.

"So heroic and selfless!" Pique fawned. "The dark prince turned a damsel as the two valiant maidens fight over him! How cute!"

Fakir's eyebrows knit together, the corner of his mouth raised in barely-concealed annoyance. "God you're weird. Don't you have something else to do?"

She giggled as she pranced off—for Ahiru's sake, Fakir hoped she wasn't trying to catch up to the two. He rested his head against his knuckles. Hopefully Charon wouldn't be too upset he let Ahiru get away from him. She seemed distracted enough Fakir doubted she would notice Charon even if she passed him in the market. Besides, this was decidedly important.

"Guess I may as well head home," Fakir spoke aloud to no one. Thoughts of what he would've said had they not been interrupted danced in his head.

"Pique! Please!" Ahiru gasped as she finally caught up to the other girl. "Let me explain!"

"Oh my god, did you seriously follow me?" Pique groaned, trying to quicken her pace.

Ahiru jogged to keep alongside her. "It's not what you think!"

"Save it!" she snapped. "Everyone's talking about you, you know! What? You think you can show up in your little couple's outfit and dance at the Fire Festival with Goldkrone's most desirable bachelor, and then pretend you're not a thing!?"

"The outfit wasn't even mine! It was Fakir's older sister figure's!" Ahiru pleaded.

Pique stopped suddenly. "He has an older sister?"

"Older sister figure," Ahiru explained. "Sort of older sister."

Shaking her head, Pique picked back up her quick pace. "It doesn't matter! People saw you kiss, y'know! It was all the gossip at school!"

Ahiru's face, already red from her jogging, grew even darker. "What? No! That's—that's not what happened! We didn't! I mean… well, we alm—but we didn't!"

Pique whirled around to face her, her expression livid. "So you haven't kissed Fakir?"

Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, Ahiru opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could form a coherent sound. "I didn—well, I mean—he sorta—but I… not at the Fire Festival…" her voice grew more and more abashed until she faded off all together.

Throwing her hand ups in the air, Pique spun back around and continued walking away.

"Pique!" Ahiru cried after Pique, her voice distressed.

After a few more moments of Ahiru following after Pique, the latter stopped suddenly again. "You know, honestly? Honestly? The worst part was that you didn't just tell me when we met. It would've been awkward, sure! But it was much worse to run into you two looking so… so… coupley! I trusted you! And you embarrassed me!" She turned toward the other girl, glaring at her through teary eyes.

"I didn't mean to!" Ahiru insisted, tears of her own welling up in her eyes. "Please, I really didn't mean to!"

"But you did!" Her voice was so full of anguish, Ahiru's heart broke to hear it.

"Piqu—"

"Just let me be."

Tears streamed down her face as Ahiru watched Pique walk away. She barely registered the flash of white light from the pendant hanging from her neck. Shaking her head, Ahiru grasped the pendant, hiding it in her fist. Sinking to ground, she buried her face in her knees. "Not now," she choked out, "I can't."

Ahiru was surprised to see Fakir in the stable when she walked in. Trying to surreptitiously wipe any remnants of her tears away, she cleared her throat. "I-uhm, sorry. I didn't think anyone would be in here. I should go."

Fakir continued brushing Lohengrin. "You're fine. Charon usually brushes him earlier in the day after exercising him, but he asked me to do it today."

"Why? Was Charon too busy?"

Momentarily caught in his own slip up, Fakir turned his attention to Ahiru. Noting her red eyes, he put down the brush. "Hey, did things go okay?"

Biting her lip, Ahiru shook her head. "Not really."

Crossing the stable in a few strides, Fakir pulled her close to him and rubbed her back in what he hoped was a soothing pattern. "I'm sorry."

Closing her eyes, Ahiru leaned into his comforting embrace. "Yeah…" she murmured into his chest.

"It's not your fault, you know." He felt awful at the circumstances. Though he wasn't particularly familiar with her friend, he did know the girl was a member of that unfortunate group who called themselves the "Fakir Girls." Fakir didn't even remember ever speaking to the girl before, if he was being honest, much less given any indication he had any interest in her. He supposed the heart worked in mysterious ways, but how could she—or any of them—claim to have feelings for him when they didn't even know him? Regardless, it wasn't fair to him or Ahiru that others' feelings were being factored into their relationship, romantic or otherwise.

"That's the thing…" Ahiru tried to hold back the tears pricking at the back of her eyes. "I think it might be."

Fakir pulled back from her so he could look at her face. "It's not." Pulling gently but firmly with his thumb, he made her look up at him and his heart broke to see how glassy her eyes were. "You can't control anyone else's feelings. Hell, most people can't control their own. This is not your fault. There is nothing you could've done."

Tears began gathering around the corners of her eyes and Ahiru pulled her face from his grasp so she could hide them. Pique's accusatory words played on repeat in her mind. "If I had done things differently… if I had said something…"

"Nothing you could have said would make any of this easier."

The worst part was that you didn't just tell me when we met.

Ahiru choked back a sob and buried her face in Fakir's chest. She wished she could turn back time. She wished she could tell Pique that… well… something. Maybe even if she said she lived with Fakir. That she had been the one who went to The Firebird with him. That they were best friends. Ahiru wasn't sure what she could've said to make things okay, but surely she should have said something.

Pulling her closer, Fakir lightly stroked her hair. Nothing anyone could have said would have made any part of this easier. That was the difficulty of being human: sometimes you hurt the ones you love. Closing his own eyes, he rested his chin atop her head. All he could do was try to lessen the hurt.

Once she was more calmed down, Ahiru pulled back and wiped at her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" Shrugging, she gestured with her hands to indicate she wasn't sure what word to use.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You know I'll always be here for you."

Slight pink tinged her cheeks as she averted her eyes and continued to rub at her face. Fakir was so gentle with her. Back when she first met him, she would have called anyone a delusional idiot for merely suggesting he would one day be so kind, much less that a simple comforting phrase from him would make her heart flutter. It was amazing what getting to know someone and a little time could do.

"Hey, uh…" Fakir rubbed the back of his neck. This was probably a good enough segue into what Charon wanted him to do. "Why don't we spend tomorrow doing something fun? To make up for today."

Ahiru looked back up at him. "Something fun? Like what?"

Fakir shrugged. "Whatever you want to do. We can make an afternoon of it."

She thought a moment before she responded. "Well… I've never been swimming, y'know… as a human. Well… other than down in the underground lake, I guess, but I mean like when you have a swimsuit and you don't really swim, you more of float around and splash each other, and—"

"Alright! Alright. So, swimming?"

Ahiru nodded. "Yeah." A smile was growing on her face along with her excitement for tomorrow's promised festivities.

"Do you even have a suit?"

Her shoulders fell a bit. "No…"

"Okay. That just means we'll have to buy one. I guess we can swim in the pond…"

Grinning, Ahiru grasped one of Fakir's hands between hers. "So we're gonna go?!"

"I said we'd do whatever you wanted." Fakir gave her a look as if to say it was obvious that they were.

Ahiru wrapped her arms around Fakir, giving him a brief but tight hug before releasing him. "I can't wait!"

As always, her smile was infectious. Smiling fondly at her, he only half listening to her as she went on about all swimming activities she'd heard about that she wanted to try. He was glad to have been able to take her mind off of her worries. Fakir would give anything to be able to keep that smile on her face.

"Okay, okay, okay, all that can wait until tomorrow!" Ahiru nodded resolutely. She walked over to the family horse and picked up the brush that Fakir had set down earlier. "Why don't you teach me how to brush Lohengrin? That way I can help."

"Alright, if that's what you want."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, Fakir showing Ahiru how to brush a horse. Every moment the two spent together seemed to take Ahiru further and further from her troubles. All thoughts of Pique and the fragment she carried melted from Ahiru's mind.

"Are you sure you don't want to come help me pick out a bathing suit?" Ahiru asked Fakir, cocking her head. "I've never had one before, so I don't know what type would be good."

Fakir pointedly looked away from her, trying to hide his bright red face. "The person in the store can help you with that." Sure, in theory, it would be fun to shop for swimsuits with a crush. She'd try on a bunch of different ones and show him each one… But the fact was that Fakir was simply physically incapable of withstanding that sort of event. He was fairly certain his head would implode from all the blood that would inevitably rush to his cheeks. No, Fakir had no business being in such a situation. "Besides, I have some other things I need to pick up."

"Like what?"

"Don't worry about it," Fakir said. "Look, we're already at the store." He gestured with his head toward the building they stood in front of. "I'll meet you back here in… thirty minutes?"

Ahiru pouted for a second before giving up and nodding. "Yeah, okay." She watched Fakir walk off for just a moment, then went inside the store.

With the shopkeep's help, she was able to pick out a few different suits to try on fairly quickly. The first few she tried were bikinis. They were cute, and Ahiru especially liked the ruffled ones, but her eyes would always be drawn to the dark scar on her torso. It wasn't that she was embarrassed of her scar—she actually thought it gave her skin more character—but, she was worried Fakir would end up being reminded about what had happened. Her skin was so pale, it was hard not to notice the shiny dark skin. Either way, the shopkeep did tell her that one pieces were better for swimming around than two pieces, so it was probably better for her to get a one piece.

After trying on a few different swimsuits of different colors and cuts, she ultimately decided on a pale yellow one with a ruched bodice and a short row of ruffles that hung just above her hips. Satisfied with her decision, she paid for her suit and left the store, only to find Fakir waiting for her outside.

"If you were waiting, you should've just come in!" Ahiru admonished, resting her hands on her hips.

Rolling his eyes, Fakir waved her off. "I just got here. Did you find one you liked?"

"Yeah." She leaned slightly to the left trying to get a look at the brown paper packages in his arms. "Whaddya get?"

"Nothing."

Squinting suspiciously at him, Ahiru leaned forward. "It doesn't look like nothing…"

Fakir sighed. "It's a surprise, okay?"

"A surprise… for me?" She maintained her suspicious squint, eyeing him up and down.

"Yes," Fakir insisted.

Ahiru was satisfied with this answer. She straightened up with a shrug. "Okay. So are we gonna go back home first?"

Fakir nodded. "Yeah. We can get changed and grab some towels before we head out."

"Okie dokie!" Ahiru turned on her heel and practically skipped the whole way home.

Upon arriving, Fakir seemed to open the door with more force than usual and, despite having no apparent reason to, announced, "Well, we're here. I guess we'll go change into our bathing suits."

Ahiru made a face as she looked at him, "Why are you yelling?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fakir responded, equally as loud, and looking slightly annoyed for some reason.

A muffled commotion came from the kitchen and a moment later Charon popped his head out of the kitchen archway. "Hey kids!"

"Charon?" Ahiru cocked her head quizzically. "What're you doing home? I thought you were going to be working in the smithy today…"

Charon chuckled, fully emerging from the kitchen while wiping his hands on a towel. "Sometimes an old man just has to take a break." Quickly changing the subject, he looked between the two. "What're you two up to?"

"We're going swimming!" Ahiru grinned and held her bagged purchase aloft. "Since you're taking a break, why don't you come with us?"

He turned away, a mischievous grin on his face. "Oh no, I wouldn't dare impose."

"You're not imposing! It'd be a fun!"

His grin grew. "Nonsense! I would never intrude on your swim date."

Ahiru's face flushed instantly. "What?! No—I'm not—we're not—but we—it's—wha—" As she tried to string together a coherent thought, Fakir began ushering her upstairs, his face matching hers. "Uhm—we—er, that is to say—we're—uh, uhm…"

Charon could be heard laughing even upstairs.

"Go change, idiot." Fakir gave her a light push towards her door before continuing to his room.

"Uhm, yeah, okay…" Ahiru stared wide-eyed into space as she absentmindedly went into her room and started changing. A swim date? Is that what they were doing? They were going swimming together, but just as friends, right? They usually hung out one-on-one, that didn't mean it was a date. But… he liked her, and, well, she couldn't admit it for reasons, but she liked him… Was that all it took for it to be a date? Ahiru shook her head. No, they had to agree that it was a date.

After adjusting the straps on her shoulder, she checked herself in the mirror. It was a pretty bathing suit, and she felt rather cute in it. A dreamy smile crossed her lips as she imagined Fakir stealing an underwater kiss. He'd pull her underwater, and she'd gasp in surprise, and he'd just press his lips against hers. Squealing in embarrassed delight, she buried her face in her one hand and tried to physically wave off the thought with the other.

"Oh gosh, get ahold of yourself, Ahiru!" she admonished herself. Lightly slapping her cheeks, she refocused on her reflection. "Maybe I should put my hair up…" Nodding, Ahiru went about pinning her braid up into a braided bun like Raetzel had taught her. Once satisfied, she pulled her blue gingham shirt and denim shorts back on over her bathing suit.

Giving herself a quick once over to make sure nothing was out of place, Ahiru smiled again. She wondered if Fakir would like her swimsuit. She hoped he'd think she was just as cute as she felt while wearing it. Winking at her reflection, Ahiru hurried out her room and down the stairs.

Charon was leaning against the wood archway that led to the kitchen while chatting quietly with Fakir, who had a canvas tote bag on his arm, filled with what looked to be towels. Upon hearing her noisily descend the stairs the two men looked over at her.

"Took you long enough."

Ahiru stuck her tongue out at Fakir in response. "I had to put my hair up, and I happen to have a lot, thank you."

Charon laughed at the familiar display. "Alright, enough flirting you two, have fun on your little date." The mischievous glint in his eye returned as he turned back into the kitchen and waved them off.

"He—I—" Ahiru's blush, which had gone away, returned full force. "We—but that—I… uhm… oh—okay… yeah. Alright."

"You shouldn't let Charon's teasing get to you so easily," Fakir insisted once they were out of the house, ignoring that his own face was perhaps even more red than hers.

"Right. Yeah, I know," Ahiru laughed uneasily.

The two spent the short walk to the pond trying to calm their minds. By the time they felt confident enough in their composure, they had reached the pond; however, the sight of the dock elicited a sudden memory in both of them. The last time they had been to the pond was the first and last time they had kissed—or, rather, that Fakir had kissed her.

Too embarrassed to look at him, Ahiru instead looked down at her hands as she addressed him. "So, uhh… we just… go in the water?"

"Yeah, pretty much…" Fakir responded, also too embarrassed to look her in the eye.

Refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room, the two turned their backs to the other and quietly stripped down to their swimsuits. As Fakir began stuffing his folded clothes into the canvas bag he brought with him, he remembered one of his earlier purchases.

"Hey, I got this for you." He handed her a thin box with a colorful illustration on it.

Ahiru looked at the box quizzically. "What is it?"

"You wanted the 'human' swimming experience, so…" He rubbed at the back of his neck. "It's an inner tube…"

"An inner tube?" She popped open the box tab and pulled the flat, yellow plastic mass out. She gave him back the box and let it unfold. "Oh!" She laughed at the deflated face. "It's a duck!"

Fakir mumbled something in response that Ahiru couldn't quite make out, but part of it sounded suspiciously like the word 'cute.'

"So, what, you just blow it up, right?" She spun it around until she found the air valve.

Fakir laughed as he watched her puff up her cheeks and blow as hard as she could into it. "Whoa, slow down. You'll pass out if you go at it like that."

Taking his advice with a sassy face, she proceeded to go easier on the airflow. After a few minutes, she meekly handed the floatie to Fakir. "Your turn."

He smirked. "Getting lightheaded, are we?"

"Ohh, just finish blowing it up," she stuck out her tongue at him, "I did most of it anyway."

He raised a mocking eyebrow but did as she requested. It was a cute little inner tube. The bright yellow duck had a grinning beak and wore sunglasses. Fakir had been pleasantly surprised when he happened upon it. Though he had planned to buy her some sort of inflatable raft, the moment he saw the yellow bird, he knew he had to buy it. Ahiru watched him with excited eyes, the grin stretching her soft pink lips told him it was worth every pfennig.

She barely waited for him to finish closing the valve before yanking it from his hands and running out onto the dock with it. Fakir watched in amusement as she tossed it on the lake and screeched in delight as she hopped off of the dock with intent to land on it. He stifled a chuckle as she inevitably missed and, one short splash later, found herself in thigh-deep water.

"It's not that deep by the end of the dock, you know," he called out to her as he waded through the water toward her.

Paying him no mind, she chased after her duck floatie that had begun floating away after her little splash. Squealing joyfully, she launched herself at it and swung her arms over the side. After a few minutes of struggling to climb up onto it, she settled for merely tucking her legs under her as she clung to the inner tube.

A splash and the duck suddenly shifting away from her drew a startled "QUACK!" from Ahiru as she threw her arms up in surprise. Fakir's smug waterlogged face emerged from the middle of the floatie as he popped his arms over the side.

"Hey! You jerk!" The giggling tone belied the harshness of her words. Ahiru chortled as she put all of her arm strength into splashing as much water as possible at him, which, naturally, started an all-out water fight. Shrieking with laughter, Ahiru swam away from Fakir who, looking admittedly ridiculous flopped over the side of a duck inflatable, pursued her with great intensity while unleashing a nonstop onslaught of water attacks.

In an attempt to seize the upper hand, Ahiru sucked in a big breath of air and ducked under the water. Waiting just long enough to cause Fakir the slightest bit of worry she reached for his ankle and yanked on it, pulling him underwater with her. He sputtered upon surfacing, earning a series of giggles from Ahiru who came up just after him.

"Serves you right!" She grinned at him triumphantly.

A playful glint shone in Fakir's eye as he launched himself at Ahiru in response, hooking his arms under her legs lifting her above the water bridal style. She screeched in delight as he spun her around and tossed her back into the water. In an attempt to counter him, Ahiru launched herself at him. The water, however, was not deep enough to aid her in lifting him like she planned, so they instead started to topple over into the water. Fakir, ever quick to react, was able to catch them with his leg so they wouldn't completely fall underwater, but now he had to deal with a whole new issue.

Ahiru was clinging tightly to him, her legs were wrapped around his hips and her cheek pressed into his shoulder as she braced for an impact that wasn't going to come. Once realization of that fact dawned on her, she sheepishly pulled back and peeked up at him. Her skin was flushed a pleasant pink—whether from physical exertion or from their proximity, he wasn't sure, though he hoped the latter—and her big, blue eyes sparkled similarly to the water he stood in. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it absentmindedly, drawing his eyes to her mouth. It struck Fakir her face was decidedly very close to his.

Ahiru averted her eyes and swallowed. She felt like actual steam might blow out of her ears if she held eye contact any longer. She could feel his muscles tensing under her grip, and it took all the willpower she had to loosen her hold. Instead, she focused on the dark purple birthmarks that slashed across his shoulder and chest. They were much darker than the scar she had on her torso, but his birthmarks didn't look bubbly like her scar tissue did. Removing one of her hands from Fakir's upper arms, she delicately traced the edge of the dark flesh over his collarbone and to his chest.

Fakir's breath hitched at her touch, forcing Ahiru's head out of the clouds, and crashing down to earth. She drew her hand away from his skin almost as if he had burned her.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, "I was just—justthinkingaboutmyscarandhowyourbirthmarkisdifferentandIcertainlydidn'tmeanto—to!" She gestured wildly and Fakir had to tighten his grip so he didn't drop her.

"It's fine," Fakir scowled as he tried to stop her from flailing about, his face beet red. "Stop—" Her squirming became too much to handle, and in a brief moment of panic, he let her flop back into the water.

She resurfaced moments later, sputtering as she tried to right herself. She looked a bit like a drowned rat, and Fakir couldn't help but laugh before he offered her his hand. Scowling up at him for laughing, Ahiru begrudgingly took his hand.

"I told you to stop squirming around."

"Yeah, I know." Ahiru pouted as she wiped the wet bangs that clung to her forehead out of her eyes.

"Look, I'll go get your float so you can actually get a chance to lounge in it." Fakir pointed across the pond where the duck-shaped inner tube had floated off to, likely due to all their splashing around.

Ahiru splashed some of the pond water on her face in an attempt to cool her cheeks down. 'Stop making a fool of yourself,' she mentally reprimanded herself. She wasn't sure what caused her lapse in judgement, but she had to be careful not to let it happen again.

"Here," Fakir drew her attention. He walked past her, closer to the shore.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Fakir jerked his head toward the shore. "It'll be easier for you to get in in shallow water."

"Oh." Ahiru nodded as she followed after him. He helped her sit back on the inner tube before giving her a slight push so she'd float out into the pond. She leaned her head back and looked up at the sky while hooking an arm around the duck's neck.

"So, is swimming as a human everything you hoped it would be?" Fakir asked idly as he floated next to her.

Turning her head toward him, she nodded. "I don't know what I really expected. But it's been fun. And floating on this thing? Way different than floating on the water as a duck—oh!" She laughed, finding some irony in the situation. "Well, floating on the water as a real duck, anyway!"

He smiled as he watched her lounge, one of her hands making small circles in the water as she closed her eyes and soaked in the sun. She looked happy. Fakir hoped that this along with the surprise he and Charon had planned for her would make today memorable. Quietly, Fakir let his legs float to the surface so he could float on his back next to her. And if his hand accidentally bumped hers, or his fingers accidentally tangled with hers, well, that just happens sometimes.

Sounds of a teasing argument filtered into the kitchen from the street, and Charon straightened up in the seat he was sitting in. Everything was ready, and he could feel his excitement mounting as the noise grew closer. The moment Ahiru told him she didn't have a birthday Charon knew there was no way he could let that go by unremedied—and he certainly wasn't patient enough to wait until March. Luckily, September was exactly six months after March, and what better way was there to throw someone a surprise birthday party than do it on their half birthday?

"Ahh," Ahiru sighed from the entryway after opening the door, "it smells divine! Charon, what did you m—"

"Surprise!" Charon announced as Ahiru turned the corner into the kitchen.

"Quack!" Ahiru squawked, jumping back. She flailed her arms wildly, trying to maintain her balance until Fakir steadied her with his hand.

"I didn't scare you, did I?" Charon asked as he led her to the kitchen table.

"No, no," Ahiru assured him, "I was just a bit startled, not scared. I'm clumsy, that's all." She laughed as she looked at the assortment of breads on the table. "What's all this for?"

"You!" Charon guffawed. "Happy Half Birthday, Ahiru!"

Ahiru looked at Fakir in bewilderment, earning a slight chuckle from him. "Charon couldn't wait until your birthday, so he wanted to do something for your half birthday."

"Half birthday?"

"It's the day six months after your birthday, so you're halfway between ages." Fakir explained. He supposed this was probably a bit out of her depth.

"I know it's a bit silly, and people don't normally celebrate their half birthday, but I couldn't stand the thought of you never having had a birthday!" Charon shook his head in displeasure. Kids deserved to have birthdays, and to have reached her late teens without ever having a birthday? It broke his heart a little.

Her chest swelled up at the thought that they cared so much about her. "You didn't have to do all of this, Charon! Fakir!"

"Nonsense!" Charon insisted. He gestured at the table. "Now, help yourself to the bread and spread bar!"

Ahiru grinned as she surveyed the array of breads on the table. It was even better than she had dreamed. Pumpernickel, mehrkornbrot, zweibelbrot, kürbiskernbrot, roggenbrot, and even some breads she had never seen before. Along with them were a setting of jams, butters, and cheeses.

"How are we even going to eat this all?" she asked, laughing. It seemed an absurd amount of bread for just three people—not that she was complaining, of course.

"We can freeze whatever we don't eat," Charon replied as he stirred the fragrant stew on the stove, "and we'll just have to eat a lot of bread in the next few months."

After being banned from eating her favorite breads for far too long in her opinion, Ahiru was more than fine with this arrangement. She grabbed a selection of rolls and bread slices before putting some spoonfuls of the yummiest looking spreads on her plate to use as dips.

"The stew will be ready soon, then you can dip your bread in that, too." Charon grinned as he began making his own plate as well.

Ahiru couldn't help the broad smile that spread across her face and crinkled her nose. Her very own birthday party! Not even Fakir's teasing when she got black currant jam on her nose dampened her mood. Fakir and Charon had never made her feel unwelcome in their home, and, certainly, she felt like she was part of the family, but today was special. She had never felt so human before.

After the three of them ate likely way too much bread, they agreed to eat cake much later in the evening and retired to the living room where Charon and Fakir taught her how to play skat. It took her a few hands to get the hang of it, and she was pretty good playing as the defending team with Fakir or Charon, but she found herself struggling as the declarer. After losing a null game she was sure she would win, she decided it was time to have cake.

Though it wasn't the frosting monstrosity she imagined, Ahiru couldn't have been more delighted by the black forest cake that was placed before her. Shavings of chocolate were sprinkled all over the top and along the sides of the cake, and multiple rosettes of cream frosting topped with tart cherries lined the edges. Fakir lit a few candles strategically placed around the cake, and Ahiru watched the flickering flames with a sense of whimsy.

"Make a wish!" Charon insisted.

Briefly shooting him a wide-eyed glance, Ahiru looked back at the candles. It would be too selfish, she decided, to wish that she would get to live a full human lifespan—or, rather, she doubted birthday wish magic was strong enough to combat the combination of Drosselmeyer's blood and spinner magic, especially since it was only her half birthday—so there was only one thing she could think of to wish for. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wished as hard as she could, 'Please let Fakir and Charon live long and happy lives.'

Charon barely waited until Ahiru was finished with her slice of cake before he pushed a large box wrapped in brown paper packaging before her. "Go ahead and open it!" he urged, beaming.

Inside were a series of glass jars, a funnel, some large tongs, and some other strange instruments she hadn't seen before.

"Oh, thanks!" Ahiru tried her best not to sound confused as she tried to figure out what he had given her.

He laughed heartily. "It's okay, I didn't expect you to know what it all was. It's for canning! Since you've gotten into gardening and have been learning how to cook, it made sense to learn how to can."

"Oh!" Ahiru inspected the tools with an enlightened interest.

"It's the tail end of the season for our tomatoes, but we have one good harvest left in some of them, so we can figure it out together this weekend."

Ahiru grinned at him. "That would be amazing!" She got up to give him a big hug and thanked him again.

Charon patted her back affectionately before dismissing himself. "I best start storing this extra bread before I get too tired to." He coughed and nudged Fakir with his elbow as he passed him.

"Today was wonderful." Ahiru sincerely thanked Fakir as he approached her.

"I, uh," Fakir scratched the back of his head, "I have something for you, too." He was painfully aware of Charon's presence in the room with them. Though he had his back turned to them, Fakir couldn't help but feel like Charon was hanging onto their every word.

Ahiru's eyes sparkled with excitement. "A day out and a present?!" Her nose crinkled as her grin broadened and Fakir felt his heart melt a little.

Fakir shot a look at Charon's back, slightly glad he had left her gift in his room. "It's upstairs, so…"

Charon, whose ears were definitely burning, waved them off. "You can leave your canning stuff down here, Ahiru. I'll get it cleaned up and ready for the weekend."

"Thank, Charon!" she happily skipped up the stairs ahead of Fakir. Though he didn't seem it, Fakir was actually very good at getting gifts—or, at least Ahiru thought so. He always got her the cutest things—things she'd point out while walking by a store and forget about later, things she couldn't justify the cost of but stared longingly at anyway, or things she had never seen before but were clearly purchased with a lot of thought and her tastes specifically in mind.

"It's in my room," Fakir mumbled as he passed her at the top of the stairs.

Hurrying after him, she flopped down on his bed and made a big show of covering her eyes expectantly.

"You don't need to do all of that."

"Shush!"

Smiling, Fakir retrieved the package he purchased for her and placed it in her open lap. Upon feeling the pressure, Ahiru looked down at her lap and started tearing into the package with an adorable vigor. Her eyes lit up the moment they fell on the gilded wooden box.

It was a small rectangular box, but big enough it wouldn't fit in just one hand. On each of the deep cherry wood sides was a gilded frame, inside of which the wood had been stained a darkish blue color, and the top of which had a small duck also portrayed in gilding. The back of the box had a tiny crank. When she opened it, a duck, posing in an arabesque, popped out of the center, which was a bunch of gears designed to look like a little pond. As the duck began slowly spinning, the theme from Rimsky-Korsakov's third movement in Scheherazade began playing in soft, tinny tones.

"Oh…" Ahiru gasped in awe as she watched the tiny metal duck dance around its mechanical pond—the spinning blue gears almost looking like rippling water. "Oh," she repeated, "Fakir, it's gorgeous."

Fakir's heart melted even more as he watched her stare at the spinning duck. The minute Charon said he wanted to surprise Ahiru with a—albeit half—birthday celebration, Fakir immediately started planning her present. Luckily, a local watchmaker agreed to do his commission, and though it took until the last second, Fakir was more than pleased with the result. More importantly, Ahiru seemed to be mystified with his gift.

Her eyes grew glassy, and she had to blink away a few tears. Her heart felt so full as she listened to the delicate ringing of each note. It was all she could do to tear her eyes from the little ballerina duck. "I love it." Carefully setting the music box down, Ahiru stood up and wrapped her arms around Fakir. "Thank you," she whispered.

She felt like she could just kiss him, and part of her wished she wasn't too much of a coward to do so. Instead, she settled on pulling him as close to her as she could and burying her face in his chest. Without a sound, he returned her hug with as much fervor.

So this was what having a birthday felt like.

Ahiru regretted that it would be her last.

The graceful notes of Ahiru's music box rang through the air as she sat in her bed and watched it. Ever since Fakir gave it to her the night before, she couldn't stop winding it up and letting it play until she had to wind it back up again. She was simply obsessed with it. The music mixed with the circular pattern the duck moved in was just so soothing. And, up until about an hour ago, it was very good at making her forget her troubles.

With a sigh, she flopped onto her side, pouting at the wall before her. She couldn't stop thinking about Pique and the way her pendant sparkled in response to her.

Ahiru knew she had to go find her—to help her with the fragment she carried—but how? Pique made it clear she wanted nothing to do with Ahiru. And while it certainly broke Ahiru's heart, it seemed to be also doing unspoken damage to Pique. If staying away from Pique was what Pique wanted from Ahiru, she'd comply, but she couldn't let her friend suffer from whatever sinister mechanisms Drosselmeyer had put into place. She had to get the fragment first.

"Gee, Pique, couldn't help but notice that you made my pendant glow," Ahiru said in a mockingly deep voice, "I know you hate my guts, but why don't you let me take care of that for you?" She sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Yeah, that'll work. She'll definitely let me do my thing, then."

In her heart of hearts, Ahiru knew what she really wanted was to talk it out and make Pique not hate her, but it simply wasn't going to happen. Ahiru wasn't going to have a place in this equation; she'd have to depend on Princess Tutu. It wasn't like she could just go prancing around Goldkrone as Princess Tutu, especially in broad daylight, though. She had to do some leg work as Ahiru, but it was considerably harder to do since Pique would likely turn tail and run the moment she saw Ahiru's bright salmon-colored hair.

Ahiru groaned and dug her fingers into said hair around her scalp in frustration. This certainly wasn't going to be easy. Dancing with the Oak Tree had been an easier task than this was. Dropping her hands to her sides in resignation, Ahiru kicked her feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. It wasn't going to get done if she just sat around and did nothing.

She breathed in deeply before pumping her fists in determination. "Okay, Ahiru, here we go!"

Where Ahiru thought Pique would be, well, she wasn't sure. Hours passed as she wandered hopelessly around Goldkrone Town. Pique wasn't at the Apple Tree Park, Pizzeria, or the Theatre. Unsurprisingly, she also wasn't around the Prodding Bridge or Used Book Store. To be honest, Ahiru didn't expect Pique to be at any of those locations—that's what was so appealing about them. Out of stalling options, and too close to the academy's dorm to make any more excuses, Ahiru shoved her hands in the pockets of her skirt jumper and headed down the main road.

"It'll be fine. You'll find her and get this all taken care of and everything will be fine!" Ahiru kicked a pebble along the street as she gave herself a pep talk. "You got this."

"Oh my!" A decidedly sinister high-pitched squeal came from the right of Ahiru. "If it isn't the dark prince's lover, come to defend her title!"

"Lilie?" Ahiru glanced over to the source of the sound, and sure enough, the blonde, pig-tailed girl was leaning against the gate, her ever-present mischievous glint shining brightly in her eye.

Giggling, Lilie leaned toward Ahiru. "True love isn't just earned, after all! You must forge it with blood and glory—triumphing over all those who deign to come between you and the one you love!"

Ahiru chewed on her lip. She wasn't sure if she would ever be ready for this confrontation, but she was out of time it appeared. "We're not going to fight, Lilie."

"You're not?"

Ahiru shook her head.

Lilie tilted her head, covering her smirk. "Aren't you already fighting?"

Ahiru suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Maybe she's been spending too much time with Fakir. "Do you know where she is?"

"You'll find her in one of the practice rooms."

"Thanks!" Ahiru took in a deep breath before jogging toward the academy.

"Don't worry! I'll be there to pick up the pieces of whoever loses!" Lilie called after her. A rogue "how cute" lingered in Ahiru's ears as she hurried toward the campus. She had been avoiding this for days now, and she couldn't avoid it any longer. She had to see Pique.

It had been quite some time since Ahiru had been to the practice rooms at Goldkrone Academy. It felt like decades ago she mistakenly arrived to class hours early, only to happen upon Mytho practicing alone. He had been so gentle and kind to her, even as she awkwardly flailed about, to the point where he injured himself to save her from a sore backside—and Fakir had been so mean! Strange how things change.

Doing her best to be stealthy about it, Ahiru crept along the corridors of the academy—sneaking glances into a few of the smaller practice rooms as she passed them. Her heart leapt into her throat when she caught a glimpse of magenta hair in the main classroom. Pique was at the barre, practicing her basics. The expression on her face wasn't exactly what Ahiru would call serene, however, and she was pretty sure she knew why.

Reflexively, Ahiru's hand shot down to the gem hanging from her neck when a flash of light caught her periphery. Maybe Pique didn't trust Ahiru, but surely she'd trust Tutu. A look of resolve painted her face and she welcomed the liquid warmth that enveloped her whenever she transformed. Once it melted away, she was left standing gracefully en pointe.

"Who's there?" Pique's brow furrowed in annoyance. Practicing hadn't soothed the turmoil raging in her mind as much as she had hoped it would, and the last thing she needed was to be harassed by her classmates.

"Pique… what bothers you so?"

Pique's eyes shot open and searched for the source of the strangely familiar voice. Before her stood a ballerina in a gray tutu. Her blue eyes expressed such pain and sympathy, Pique found herself unable to look away. "Who're you?"

Princess Tutu approached slowly, taking small steps as she reached a welcoming arm toward Pique. "I am here to help you. You harbor feelings you don't understand. Please, let me in."

Pique stared at Princess Tutu's proffered hand, debating if it was wise to take it or not. Glancing briefly back up at the prima ballerina's eyes, she found herself unable to distrust her. With only the slightest hint of hesitation, Pique took her hand.

It had been some time since Princess Tutu danced with someone skilled in ballet—when she had danced with Lilie, actually, was the last time. Though Lory had training in ballet, she wasn't the most skilled of dancers. She was impressed with how much Pique had improved since they were in beginners' classes together. Her movements were more refined, with a sense of purpose she simply didn't have before.

"Tell me what pains you so," Princess Tutu urged Pique gently as she assisted her in an arabesque penché.

As Pique straightened back up, falling back into fourth position, a strange expression came over her face. "I… I don't know. There's… there's this boy."

It felt a little disingenuous to Princess Tutu, asking Pique what was wrong when she already knew—well, at least the gist of it. Her heart ached knowing that she was the source of her friend's pain, which made her all the more determined to help her.

"And… there's this girl." Pique struggled to find the words to describe her feelings as the two pirouetted together. "They… look… good together. I've never seen him smile like that… And he does it because of her. For her."

They performed tour piqué en dedans around each other, their arms outstretched toward each other before meeting in the middle and lowering their bodies to the ground, their hands grasped together.

"I'm just so… so… jealous," Pique continued as they split, "And, y'know, if I'm being honest… I don't want to be. I just don't understand it. It's like I'm furious with her. I'm so mad at her for just existing, but I also feel like it's… it's okay. They belong together. I almost… want them to be together. And I don't. All at once. It's just so confusing."

Princess Tutu lowered Pique to the ground, her arm curled around Pique's middle as Pique angled her legs beneath her. Stroking her partner's face empathetically, Princess Tutu murmured, "Sometimes it isn't always clear what our hearts want."

Pique stretched her right arm out behind her. "I don't even really know him to begin with. We've never really talked. And—I feel like I've been wanting to let go of this stupid crush, but I just can't."

"It's easy to feel love for someone. A simple glance, a kind word, a small action, the tiniest thing can create a warmth in your heart. Once it's already there, it's easy to grow that warmth, to look for more reasons, no matter how trivial, to feed it. It becomes harder and harder to let go of that warmth, even long after it has gone cold."

After Princess Tutu pulled them both back to their feet, they separated with chaînés turns. "But… I've spent so long being a Fakir Girl, I just… I feel like I'll be losing a piece of me. I know I'm more than that, but…"

The prima ballerina smiled at her. "It's okay to move on; it's okay to let go of pieces of yourself that you've outgrown. Being true to yourself can sometimes mean redefining who you are."

When they rejoined, Princess Tutu lifted Pique into a fish dive. "I'm ready." Pique closed her eyes, curling her legs in poisson. "I'm ready to move on and let go. I want to start the next chapter of my life." She hesitated a moment before adding, "And… I want her to be happy… with him. I don't know why, but I do. I want her to be happy."

Princess Tutu held tightly to Pique as the black light shot from her chest and her body went limp. It didn't even register in her mind when the light entered her pendant. Carefully, Princess Tutu arranged Pique comfortably on the floor with her back and head propped against the wall.

Her eyebrows knit as she stared vacantly at her friend's unconscious form. Shaking her head, she sought a private place to detransform before sprinting off campus. Ahiru ran as fast as she could, forcing her legs to move, one in front of the other. Pique's words echoing in her mind.

"I don't know why…"

The moment she reached the pond, Ahiru stumbled to her knees. It was eating at her now. She knew… she knew, it had to be. Everyone, all the people she helped as Princess Tutu… They all…

Taking a deep breath, Ahiru shouted with as much force as she could muster, "DROSSELMEYER!"

The world shuddered to a halt, instantly desaturating.

"Now, now, no need to shout."

"The fragments." Ahiru glared hotly at the apparition as his face appeared in the sky above the pond.

"You called me out here just to talk about those?"

Frowning deeply, she ran back over the proof in her mind. She was certain. She didn't know what it meant, but she was certain. "They're fragments…"

Delight shone in the maniacal eyes as he patiently waited for her to continue.

"They're fragments of the story, aren't they?"

Drosselmeyer's laugh boomed throughout the air like thunder, reverberating uncomfortably in Ahiru's chest. "Loose ends, you might call them! So, you've finally caught on, have you?"

She stared heavily at her hands as she tried to process his confirmation.

"Tell me,"his face grew bigger and appeared to lean closer to her, "what will you do with this information, little duck?"

This was important, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. So, she was fixing the loose ends from the last story—helping people move on from the leftover feelings they had incomplete memories of. It made sense, but she didn't understand why. Why did Drosselmeyer not just tell her? Why did he go through the effort to make it seem so secret?

His expression changed into one of mock ruefulness. "If only the writer who finished the story for me had done a better job. If only he had finished everyone's story properly, why…" a malicious grin took over his face as he stared straight at Ahiru, "I would've never had to come back and finish it myself."

Ahiru's eyes widened in fearful realization. It had never been about hiding what the fragments were from her, it had always been about…

She shuddered.

She couldn't let Fakir find out.

A/N: I had that Megamind quote about super villains and presentation playing in my head the whole time I wrote that last scene. Haha.

We're two-thirds done! We're in the home stretch, friends. Thank you everyone for reading and being patient with me. I'm very excited to write the last few chapters—I'm just very slow. At everything, I'm starting to realize... So, thank you again!