Princess Tutu © Itou Ikuko and Hal Film Maker, I'm just borrowing the characters for the enjoyment of myself and others.

This scene was planned from the beginning and has been nearly complete since then; as I mentioned previously, I wrote it very early on and it's been killing me to sit on it this long.

Pas de Deux

Frau Katze took one last look at the letter from her brother she had received that afternoon and rolled her eyes before folding it closed and slipping it into her bag with a grimace. Honestly, her family had no business caring so much about whether or not she had 'found a husband' yet. Knowing that there was no sense in letting their idiocy bother her, she gathered the rest of her belongings and prepared to leave. Closing the office door behind her, she made her way down the hallway, idly listening to the sound of her footfalls, barely a whisper against the floor.

As she neared the balcony entrance to the main studio, she paused, noticing that light was filtering through the bottom of the doorway. Standing right in front of the door, she could hear music, clearly the prerecorded notes of their phonograph, drifting up and out of the room. It wasn't unusual for students to stay after classes finished for the day, practicing for an hour or two, but it was already well into the evening. Who in the world could be in there at this hour?

Placing her effects upon the floor for the moment, she opened the door as gently as possible, slipping in unnoticed. A flash of movement below caught her eyes and she turned, caught completely off guard by what she found.

It was the most unlikely of pairings, she thought, watching with interest as her newest student, the chipper Ahiru, was being drilled at ballet exercises by her peers' heartthrob, the dark and mysterious Fakir. She raised an eyebrow, curious how the two knew each other. She would not have imagined the solemn Fakir to know, much less willingly assist, her little ugly duckling. He tended to keep to himself, from what she had seen and overheard, and Ahiru was… well… as opposite as you could get! She was improving, but still awkward, and had a tendency to chatter. She tried to make friends with everyone and was the most open and friendly young woman Katze had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

It was clear upon their first meeting that Ahiru had taken some time off from her ballet studies, likely related to her absence and return to the academy. She had gathered from her conversations with her friends (when they were supposed to be focusing on their en pointe practice!) that she had returned from some sort of extended time away. Rustiness of her movements aside, she had been steadily improving over the last few weeks, and Katze found herself wondering if this could be the reason why.

How often did these two work together after classes each day? Was this their first time, or a daily ritual?

Repeated lessons together would certainly explain why Ahiru was managing to catch back up to her peers in such a short time.

Finding herself instantly curious, she took a seat upon the floor, gazing between the bars of the guardrail as she watched her exceptionally dissimilar students work together.

Fakir directed Ahiru through a series of relevés in the various positions, her hand gripping the barre tightly as she moved. Under his watchful gaze, she rose and lowered time and again, a point here, a touch there as he directed her movements. She wobbled dangerously once and he swatted at her bottom with the back of his hand, earning him a fierce glare and an exclamation of "Hey!" from the girl but still achieving the desired result. Her back straightened immediately as she tucked her hips back under her torso once more. Amazingly, her swaying ceased.

Rising up from first position, Ahiru locked her ankles and brought her arm up above her head. Once she looked comfortable in the position, she slowly did pliés en pointe, first bringing her arm down out to her side with the bend of her knees and down to her navel with the extension. Then her arm went back up in front of her and above her with the second. The pattern repeated a few times before she shifted her feet into second position and started all over again. Slowly but surely, she made her way through all five positions while being on her toes.

It was strange, observing her student in this environment, Katze mused as she watched Ahiru turn around to do the exercises all over again with her other arm braced against the barre. She was no less determined in class, to be sure, but she seemed so at ease with her dour tutor, so comfortable. Certainly more than she would have expected.

She was also a little surprised that a male student seemed so adept at teaching the skills for working en pointe, but she realized that he'd probably been overhearing the lessons and drills for quite some time, and many of the practices were the same as working in demi-pointe. She had yet to see anything worth worrying over; she was keeping her eyes peeled in case he pushed Ahiru too hard or taught her bad form. Undoing poor teaching would take longer than instilling good teachings from the start. However, he seemed more than adequate to assist her practice in this manner.

Fakir was certainly a curious one. He refused interaction with others as much as possible, yet seemed entirely unbothered to be here helping a less-advanced student after class hours were long done for the day.

They moved on to passé work, presumably to help her balance and strength for turning. Her pirouettes certainly still needed some work. Once she had found her balance, Ahiru slowly lifted the hand gripping the barre away, bringing it up above her head while she kept her lifted leg turned out, her toes carefully placed against the back of her knee. She was able to hold the position for a few long moments before gradually coming back down. A second endeavor looked smooth at the start, but she suddenly lost her balance and began to tumble forward, her arms flying out in an attempt to catch herself when she landed. Katze flinched, anticipating the girl's ungraceful spill to the floor, but the crisis was averted. Fakir quickly caught her mid-fall, bringing her close up against his chest until she found her balance again, a move that had Katze's eyebrows rising in surprise. A few low words later that Katze couldn't hear beyond a murmur of noise and Ahiru was up again, nodding at him and doing two more repetitions and then working her other side, Fakir's hand hovering just behind her back without touching the whole time as a show of security while still allowing Ahiru to do all the work herself.

The music from the phonograph stopped and they broke apart, he said a few more words Katze couldn't pick up and Ahiru nodded brightly, taking a seat upon the floor and starting the lengthy process of unlacing her shoes and methodically wrapping the ribbons around them once they had been removed. Strong, sure steps brought Fakir over to the machine where he removed the roll and replaced it with a fresh one.

Katze smiled at the determination on her student's face as she took care of her shoes. Young Ahiru had a lot of heart in her dancing, to be sure, but she was always struggling with her form in class, and her ankles still tired easily when she worked too long en pointe. So long as she didn't over-strain herself, working twice a day like this would be sure to build up her endurance. She was showing far more devotion to dancing than the young teacher would have expected, judging from her student's lighthearted attitude in class.

The music started once more and Fakir stood in the center of the room, looking patiently at the copper-haired girl on the floor. He held out a hand to her and without realizing it, Katze was leaning against the bars in rapt attention, her curiosity perking up at the scene. Ahiru sent him a dazzling smile as she wiggled her toes free of the shoes, rolling her ankles a few times to stretch them out. Her pointe shoes were discarded and her bare feet made small noises with each step as she stood and walked over him. Her partner didn't seem to mind as he took her hands in his and led her in a small circle.

She had certainly shown improvement during her prior lesson, but the ease with which she was moving now was nothing short of miraculous. They moved in a perfect harmony with one another, in sync in a way Katze had seen few pairs ever achieve. Ahiru was raised effortlessly into the air by the skilled Fakir, her expression free and happy as her arms lifted and her legs extended into an arabesque. On the ground once more, she turned a few pirouettes with his hand holding hers above her head, the usual wobble in her leg nowhere to be seen, then leaned back into him, his arms coming around her while still holding her hands. He leaned her back along his arm, supporting her as her back arched elegantly and her fingertips brushed the ground before helping her to stand and supporting her through a lifted spin.

The choreography wasn't something Katze could recognize, and she realized they were likely dancing unscripted movements, just following the music. It was beautiful. Gawky, clumsy Ahiru was stunning and graceful and elegant in a way she had never seen.

Katze let her eyes drift from her surprisingly agile novice student to her stony partner, and she found her hand rising to cover her mouth as she gasped. The mechanical puppet was gone, and in his place danced the boy she had watched do a sorrowful solo pas de deux all those weeks ago. With every lift, every hold, every touch of his hands along her skin, he was radiating emotion and feeling.

And yet, he was different. He was… more.

His eyes were unable to leave the young woman, as though the entire world consisted of nothing but her and this dance together. There was no agony in his movements, no pain rolling off him in waves. In its place was a calm but powerful love, all shining for the girl in his arms. This was the missing piece she'd been unable to grasp at, the reason for his anguish. She knew without a shadow of a doubt, that lonely pas de deux had been for this girl; his grief and pain had been for her absence.

Abruptly, she realized how Ahiru had transformed and improved so much; she was unable to believe she'd missed it before when they first began dancing. Love and devotion was plainly written upon both their faces, and it brought forth strength and grace that the girl usually kept buried deep inside of her. It was like their being together changed them; it calmed her excitement, softened and smoothed her movements and made him come alive, breathing passion into his actions.

She felt like an unwelcome spectator, bearing witness to what was clearly a private expression of love for the two young students. As quietly as possible, she rose from her position on the floor and departed, closing the door behind her with the tiniest of clicks as the latch fell into place.

Scooping up her belongings from the floor, she resumed her long-interrupted departure from the building, descending down the stairs and casting a small smile at the cracked open doors to the practice studio as she glided past, the music following her down the hall as she approached the exit.

It seemed that her mystery had at last been solved.