It had become a regular thing for the two of them to go by the lake when the weather was good. And today was no different.

Life had pretty much gone back to normal. With the story over and the walls destroyed, people were free to move in and out of the town once more, though most of the inhabitants chose to stay in Kinkan town. Old habits die hard, Fakir supposed, even when one didn't remember the reason behind the habit in the first place.

As for our young heroes? With the story finished, Fakir and Ahiru were content with going back to their true selves. Him a boy and her a duck. And they were happy, for a while. Until Fakir noticed the sad look in her eyes, the change in her once perky demeanour and the dampening of her spirits. She missed the life she had, yearned for it even, and it showed. And so he decided then and there to write her a story whether she hated him for it or not. And she did, for a while. But when her anger had subsided and she had realised what he had given her, she was overjoyed, thankful even. And so he and Charon prepared the guest room, enrolled her back at the academy and things returned almost exactly to how they were before.

And that is why we find them where they are now, sitting under a large oak tree on a lazy midsummer afternoon.

After finishing a chapter of his book, Fakir noticed the unusual silence and general calmness in the air. He frowned, looked up and saw Ahiru, facing away and hunched over something.

"What on earth are you doing?"

She quacked, startled by him, before turning around. "Trying to make a flower-chain, Lilie taught me." But in her hands lay more of crumple of flowers than a chain. She let out a defeated sigh. "I'm not really getting it."

And good God was she right, he thought. She had been using wild violets, they always grew around the lake that time of year, and she was sitting in the middle of a patch of them. Vibrant and abundant, a bunch now lay in tatters in her tiny hands.

He gave an exasperated sigh before putting his book down and scooting down towards her near the edge of the shade.

"Look, you do it like this." He took the flowers from her and she watched in amazement as he began to make quick work of them, his fingers tucking and tying swiftly and gracefully. Not so long after and decent-length chain was forming before her very eyes.

"How'd you get so good at this?" She asked, all the while transfixed on his hands.

"Raetsel and me used to make them when we were little. All the kids would come down here during the summer. Was a pretty decent way to pass the time."

The image of a green haired little boy flashed by in her mind. It was so hard to picture Fakir as anything but the way he was now. Sometimes she doubted if he ever had been a little kid at all. Still, the idea of a little baby-faced Fakir did bring a smile to her face.

"What are you smiling about?" He frowned. Why was she always like this?

Ahiru realised that's she'd been so busy daydreaming that she hadn't even noticed he was nearly done and now he was looking at her like she was a crazy person. She waved him off. "Oh, nothing important."

Unconvinced but deciding to move past it, he tied off the ends.

"And there." He said before basically dropping it on her head.

"How does it look?" She asked as she fixed it into place.

"You're the prettiest the girl in town." He replied, uninterested, already leaning back up against the tree and picking up his book.

"Is that all?"

He looked up, "What? Isn't that a nice thing to say?"

"Well, I dunno. I guess I thought, what with the writing and the books and all, you'd be a bit more creative with your compliments." She shrugged, playing with the end of her braid.

"And I thought you knew when to quite whilst you're ahead."

Her entire body seemed to droop as she pouted at him. "Point taken."

With her newfound knowledge, she returned to her original position, crossed-legged and facing towards the lake and set to work. After a bit of trial and error, she finally got the hang of it, soon producing her own considerable length of chain. It may have lacked the uniformity of Fakir's one, the kind that comes from years of practice, but it had a certain charm.

"Finished!" She proudly proclaimed as she scooted over to him.

He evaluated her creation. "Much better than your first one, that's for sure" He shrugged as he went back to reading.

She gave him a dirty look. "Well jokes on you, because this one's your's." And before he could protest she was already in front of him and placing it on his head. "There, we match." She beamed as she fixed his hair. "The handsomest boy and the prettiest girl." She let out a laugh before sitting down on his left and starting on another one while Fakir tried to ignore the blood rushing to his cheeks.

He wanted to tell her so many things, more than she would ever know. How beautiful her eyes looked in this speckled sunlight. How he could spend hours counting the freckles that only continued to multiple on her face. How he'd always wanted to see her with her hair down, as idiotic as that may have sounded. That the colour violet suited her. And that he meant it when he said he'd stay by her side forever if she'd have him.

But alas he was just a teenage boy, and a stubborn one at that, so in the end all he could muster was flustered "Moron" and hasty and shake of his head.

Ahiru didn't say anything. She just smiled softly to herself as she leaned against him, happily working away. He didn't need to say anything, she already knew. And for now, that was enough.

And when the two of them come in hours later, arm in arm wearing matching crowns of violets on their heads, Charon doesn't question it.