Fakir had tried everything, and none of it had worked.

Well, almost everything. He blushed, thinking about the couple of "everything"s he hadn't tried… but she'd probably hate him for… or anyway she'd think he was really weird… and what if she found the story? She was probably still in love with Mytho. She was probably pining away for him right that minute. He wondered if she could ever feel that way about him…

He entertained the fantasy for a few seconds, then mentally waved it away, like he always did—always had. It was stupid for him to get his hopes up like that, but still…

He forced himself to stop thinking about it, realizing that he was probably blushing bright red by that point. As usual.

Some things never change….


Ahiru was, of course, pining away for someone quite different.

I wish I could tell him… but would that ruin our friendship? He probably wouldn't be able to understand me anyway. And anyway, he couldn't love me… it would be silly for a boy to be in love with a duck. If he ever loved me, he doesn't now, she thought.

…or what if he had started to love her when he'd seen her as a duck?

No, that was stupid.

But then why was he writing so much? It couldn't just be to restore the town to its former… glory? Oh, whatever. That. She wished she were human again so she could ask him. But no, they'd promised to return to their true selves, that time in the Lake of Despair. And anyway, if she asked him, he'd probably say "What are you talking about, baka? Don't go filling your head with these silly ideas."

Or would he?

No. No, she'd been right about the letter (although Lilie had written it, so that probably meant he was sure it hadn't been her idea—after all, she had read it afterwards. It was awful.) and she'd been right about the mime.

Mime?...

She entertained the fantasy for about a minute, then jumped, blushing, when she heard footsteps. What if he—

"Hi, Ahiru. Is Fakir around?" a voice which was most definitely not Fakir's asked.

"Oh, Autor—" she started to say, before realizing all he would have heard was quacking. Fakir seemed to understand her, but that was just him. She settled for jerking her head towards Charon's house. "He's probably in there. At least he was the last time I looked that way, but maybe he snuck out when I wasn't looking… no, of course he didn't. What am I saying? Sorry. You can't even understand me anyway… right?"

"Huh?" Autor said. "Was I supposed to get any of that?"

"No, it's fi— er." Sighing, Ahiru just shook her head.

"Whatever," Autor said, opening the door.

As she watched Autor walk inside, Ahiru breathed an involuntary sigh of relief. He was kind of scary…

"So, I see you've made no progress. As usual."

"Oh, what, no 'hello?' No 'nice to see you again, Fakir?'" Fakir replied sarcastically. He and Autor had always had a bit of a strained relationship.

"Hello, it's nice to see you again, Fakir, why haven't you made any progress? That better?"

"Oh, just shut up, Autor. I'm trying as hard as I can."

"Are you? Are you really? You were given power. I wasn't, and yet I write for hours every day, even though I know it'll never work. And you? You just sit here and pretend you care, when really you're perfectly happy like this!" Autor shouted, banging his fist on the table in frustration.

"Do you really still care this much for Rue, who never returned your feelings—who meant to kidnap you and feed your heart to the monster raven? Rue, whom you'll probably never see again, and who's engaged to another man?"

"Yes!"

"You're hopeless."

"This from the guy who's in love with a duck?" Autor remarked, an amused look on his face.

"Shut up!" Fakir punched him on the shoulder, a bit too hard (mostly by accident).

"Well, it's true. Ow," Autor muttered, rubbing his new bruise. "Isn't it?"

"Uh—um, well…. that is, I… er…." Fakir's face turned an interesting shade of red as he stammered to a stop.

"Oh, so that's it! You can't admit your feelings, right? Wimp. I confessed to Rue the minute I was sure I loved her."

"Yeah, and what makes you think I'd ever want to be like you?" Fakir mumbled.

Autor ignored this comment. "Just think about it, okay?"

"Fine. And—why don't you try getting over Rue?"

"Huh?" Autor looked slightly stunned.

"Talk to some other girls. Stop mentioning her so much. Hey, why don't I introduce you to Ahiru's old friend Lilie? You two have a lot in common." Like that fact that you're both semi-psychotic. And obsessed with ruining my love life.

"Sure, I'll think about it," he said dismissively, immediately forgetting about it entirely.

"No you won't," Fakir said, rolling his eyes at the other boy's stupidity. "But thanks anyway. You've given me something to think about, at least."

"Oh. You're welcome, I guess," Autor replied over his shoulder as he left Charon's cottage. Fakir sighed. That was Autor for you.


Ahiru stared at her reflection in the lake, wishing it would change. She closed her eyes… she could see it now, spreading out until it became the reflection of the girl she had once been, months ago. Was it really only months? It felt like it had been forever… She was happy like this, of course—Fakir was her best friend, and he was always kind to her. Even when he was calling her a baka for something she'd done, she knew he was just trying to protect her. But their relationship could never work, that was the problem. They weren't even the same species.

She'd tried everything. Wishing on stars every night, trying to find a magical rock or some such thing that would grant her wish, even trying to talk to Drosselmeyer (even though she knew he'd gone on to another story)…

She opened her eyes. She should go in, or Fakir might get worried about her. It looked like there was a storm coming.

She turned around too quickly to notice her reflection rippling, changing… then rippling back to that of a duck.

It was starting.


From his comfortable rocking chair, strategically positioned so that he could keep tabs on not only his current story, but the site of his last one, Drosselmeyer watched, and chuckled. "So that boy's finally decided to do something, eh? I'd really like to interfere, but my latest tragedy is going so well that I simply can't tear myself away from it! Eheheheh… I think I'll let the characters figure it out for themselves, this once." And he turned to another gear, in which his new tragic heroine was currently crying her eyes out, and laughed…


For once, Autor was taking Fakir's advice. Entirely by accident.

He'd run into Lilie on the way back—literally. While apologizing and helping her pick up her things, he'd noticed that she was carrying one of his favorite books, which he, of course, struck up a conversation about. How could he not? He'd never met anyone else who'd read it!

Neither had Lilie, and she was always happy to talk about books—especially the dark, twisted fantasies she loved to read. Soon the two of them were deep in conversation.

Then Autor said something very, very stupid.

"Have you read anything by Drosselmeyer?"


"Hello?" Ahiru called. "Fakir, where'd you go?"

His face appeared, peering around the door of his study. "I'm right here." I could have sworn I heard her human voice for a second… but no, she's still a duck. Damn.

"Oh, you're writing! Autor helped you with ideas, then?" Ahiru quacked innocently. I could have sworn I sounded human just now…

"Yeah, you could say that—hey! Don't look at that!" he yelled, frantically covering the pages with his hands and shooing her off of the table.

She jumped down, giving him a reproachful look… but not before a couple of words had popped out at her.

Fakir was blushing, of course. As always. How much had she seen?

"Sorry to disturb you," Ahiru said quietly, and started to walk out of the room.

That was when everything started happening at once.

Said? Did she just say that? Fakir thought.

Ahiru stopped abruptly, clapping her wings over her beak. Did I just…

The wind roared.

Droplets of rain blew through the open window of the study and spattered the manuscript, as Lilie and Autor covered their heads and ran for cover.

"A nice touch, I think. Don't you, Uzura-chan?"

"What's a nice touch-zura?"

"Oh, never mind."

"Okay-zura. What's happening-zura?"

"It was a dark and stormy night…" Drosselmeyer cackled. "Isn't that usually a way to start stories, not end them? Oh well, this story has always been strange anyway."

"I don't get it-zura."

"Just watch."

The wind seemed alive. Was it targeting Ahiru? It swirled in circles around the little duck, picking her up and buffeting her about inside its spiral.

Fakir yelled something and tried to run toward her, but his voice was carried away on the wind. It was too strong for him to even move.

Autor struggled with the door of the library as Lilie looked on, laughing at his troubles.

The wind changed.

The spiral around Ahiru reversed, left her, and spun around Fakir a couple of times for good measure.

The library door slammed open.

Uzura's eyes were wide. "Ooooh! Is that a nice touch too-zura?"

"A bit cheesy, if you ask me," Drosselmeyer said, rolling his eyes.

"What do stories have to do with cheese-zura?"

"Oh, never mind. Sometimes I don't know why I even keep you here, Uzura…"


Was the music supposed to be there? Fakir couldn't remember. All he could think about was the girl standing in front of him… the girl who had once been a duck, and who would always be Princess Tutu.

Had he written that line? He couldn't remember. It didn't matter any more. She was real. It had worked—admittedly not in the way he'd expected, but it had worked.

The wind disappeared. There were rose petals on the ground.

Drosselmeyer made a disapproving noise, but Uzura shushed him. "I want to watch-zura!"

They slowly walked toward each other. Ahiru noticed dimly that she was wearing that dress, the one she'd always worn in her daydreams of Mytho (and later, of Fakir). She barely noticed what he was wearing. She was too busy staring at his face, which was finally on the same level as hers (or nearly, anyway. He'd always been a little taller than her.).

Everything was in slow motion, and suddenly—

"Well, I think we've had quite enough of that," a disembodied voice echoed through the room.

—suddenly it wasn't, and the music was louder and they were dancing and that was all that mattered.

"Is this love-love-zura?" Uzura was heard to ask.

"Yes, Uzura-chan, and I don't think I can take any more of it. Shall we go?" said Drosselmeyer, averting his eyes from the couple's kissing.

"But I want to watch-zura!"

"Puppets. They never do what you tell them. Fine, Uzura-chan, stay here if you want."

"Thank you-zura!"

"Ugh. My stories never seem to go as planned, do they?" Drosselmeyer muttered, stepping back into the gears of his new machine. "How annoying, now I shall have to make a new puppet…"

And they all lived happily ever after.


"What did you do THIS time, baka?! How am I ever going to fix this?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"Sure you didn't, but that doesn't change that it's BROKEN!"

"Meanie."

"Baka."

"Love-love-love-love-love…"

"Shut up, Uzura!"

"Aww, but it's true…"

"Maybe it is, but that doesn't change that you BROKE it!"

"Fine. Just don't ask me to fix it."

*sweatdrop* "Oh, I had NO intention of doing that."

*giggle* "Are you coming? We'll be late for class."

"Crap! Uzurabegoodbye!"

"Love-love-love-love…" *crash* "Oops. Is that broken-zura?"


Mostly.