[FFML] [fic][Princess Tutu/Revolutionary Girl Utena] Two Archetypes in Search of a Story 2/3

[Aishuu Shadowweaver]

Title: Two Archetypes in Search of a Story
Series: A Revolutionary Girl Utena/Princess Tutu
crossover
Authors: By aishuu and ekaterinn
Notes: Concrit is welcome on this. For a formally
formatted copy, visit
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3628116/1/
Disclaimer: Princess Tutu was created by Ikuko Itoh,
while BePapas is responsible for Utena. 

Part 2:



The next morning dawned bright and clear. Fakir woke
up and swung out of bed. Without really thinking about
it, he begun his series of morning stretches. The day
of a ballet student was a long one and it was
important to start it off limber. He had never really
liked mornings, but he had been getting up early for
so long that had became a habit. And he had slept well
last night: no troubling dreams, no waking up at the
slightest noise.

Fakir finished stretching, shook his body out and went
to prepare breakfast. Last night's fears and
suspicions seemed a lot more manageable in the morning
light.

He heard the sound of footsteps, too heavy to be
anything but human, and turned to see Utena standing
in the doorway. She was dressed in one of his old
shirts, which came to the middle of her thighs. He was
reminded of Mytho's habit of sleeping in similar
clothes, the whiteness enhancing fair skin. She was
pretty, he thought with surprise. He hadn't realized
that the night before.

She was too tired to notice him ogling her, which was
a blessing. Instead, she tripped her way to the table,
sleep blurring her eyes. One piece of her hair was
practically standing on-end from having been slept on
wrong. It looked cute.

"Good morning," he said, crossing over to the kitchen
counter and checking the breadbox for when Ahiru woke
up.

"Morning," she mumbled back. She yawned loudly,
cracking her jaw before dropping her face in her hands
and leaning forward on the table.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked. It would
be easy enough to make two of whatever she wanted; he
wasn't a picky eater, having spent much of his
childhood trying to find food that would get a
reaction out of Mytho.

"Coffee. Please."

"Just coffee?"

She grunted, and he decided that making pancakes
wouldn't hurt, since he wasn't about to skip
breakfast. Apparently Utena was one of those people
that didn't function without an infusion of caffeine.
Hopefully the smell of food would perk her interest;
aside from the tea, she hadn't had anything to eat in
over 12 hours.

He carefully measured out a couple scoops of coffee
beans into the machine, filled it with water, and hit
brew. Then he dug out a packet of pancake mix, smiling
as Ahiru fluttered onto the nearby counter top. He'd
given up eating eggs since coming to know her; it
would have approached cannibalism.

Ahiru pecked the pancake mix and looked up at him
hopefully. "If you're good, I'll save some for you,"
he teased. She quacked back at him, communicating her
feelings about people who would even think of
withholding /pancakes./ "Okay, okay, pancakes for you,
too."

Soon the sounds of coffee gurgling and pancakes
sizzling filled his kitchen. He flipped the pancakes
easily and quickly had a small stack piling up on the
plate. He snared two for himself and one for Ahiru,
bringing the rest to the table. The coffee had gotten
to the occasional drips stage, so he poured two cups
of that as well. Placing one of them in front of
Utena, he watched as she fumbled for something
resembling a death-grip on the mug. She drank about
half of it before he even sat down, and sighed
blissfully.

"Where's your girlfriend?" she asked. "A man who makes
coffee like that has to have a girlfriend."

He glanced at Ahiru nervously. She was merely his
friend now, but once she had been the girl he loved.
The idea of finding someone else was abhorrent, but he
knew that he probably would someday. He wondered if
Utena was hitting on him; she hadn't seemed the type.
Checking her face, he decided she was issuing a
strange sort of complement.

"No girlfriend," he said, before patting Ahiru
reassuringly. He wouldn't leave her; he had given his
word.

"What a waste." She sipped again, her eyes brightening
with alertness. "Are you going to school?" she asked,
nodding to his white and blue uniform.

Fakir nodded. "I'm a ballet student at Kinkan Academy.
It's in the middle of town." He gestured in the vague
direction of the school.

"A dancer, huh?" Utena said. "I - one of the images in
my mixed-up head is of someone in white, dancing in a
ballroom," she added, tapping on her head with her
hand. "It probably wasn't ballet though."

Fakir was beginning to like talking to Utena. It was
very easy to fall into a rhythm with her - maybe too
easy, he thought, remembering his suspicions last
night. His eyes fall on Ahiru, resolutely munching on
her pancake. He had her, and Aotoa if he really wanted
someone to talk to. Utena was just passing though.

"Let me see your foot," he said.

She looked at him quizzically, before standing and
coming around so she was in it. She held her foot up,
and he studied it, ignoring the way the shirt rose
against her thigh.

"Definitely not a ballerina," he declared. Her legs
were well-muscled, so she was probably an athlete, but
the toes didn't have the heavy calluses or broken
toenails that marked ballet dancers. She was a little
too sturdy, he thought, as he looked at her. "Probably
into some sports," he conceded.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I wonder what,
though?" she asked, before ruffling her hair in
agitation. "This is so frustrating!"

Ahiru quacked sympathetically, then mimed swimming
around in the lake. Fakir laughed and translated:
"Ahiru thinks that you swam."

Utena looked at the duck and smiled. "It's a thought,
Ahiru-chan." Ahiru hopped up and down on the table,
looking very pleased with herself.

Fakir pushed the remaining pancakes towards her.
"Here, eat. It'll take your mind off it."

"Oh, that smells good. Thanks."

For a short while, the kitchen was filled with sounds
of people -and one duck - eating. Then Utena asked,
swallowing her last piece of pancake, "Do you suppose
I could come into town with you? I could look around
school grounds, see if anything else sparks a memory.
After all, I wore that uniform when I first found
myself outside, so I probably was a student."

He couldn't see the harm in it, although he felt the
hair on the back of his neck stand up at the idea of
her wandering around unsupervised. His instincts
warned him it was a bad idea, but there was no excuse
not to fulfill her reasonable request.

"I suppose, but I don't have anything for you to wear.
I mean, I don't keep girl's clothes around here or
anything." He did have Ahiru's old uniform tucked
away, but he could see Utena was far too large for it.
Even if it would have fit, he didn't think he could
bear to offer it, although Ahiru would have welcomed
sharing.

"Boy's clothes are fine," she replied. "If you can
loan me a pair of pants, I can just tuck this shirt
in."

Mytho's old clothing would fit her, he thought. "I
have a spare uniform you can borrow."

"That would be awesome." She picked up her coffee cup
and drained it. "You're very kind."

They walked down the road together, Ahiru waddling
alongside. Mytho’s old uniform fit her well, thought
Fakir. It accentuated her hips and made her legs look
even longer. Though it was a bit tight across the
chest.

"Have you studied ballet long?" she asked him.

"Since I was little," he replied. "I've always loved
it."

"It's funny, but when I first saw your house, I
thought you were a writer. All those papers lying
around..."

"It's just hobby. Ballet is my passion," he told her.
Best to keep to simple truths. He wanted nothing to
disturb his world... anymore that it had already been.

"I think we can have more than one passion," she said.
"I... think I like to do a lot of things." Less surety
in her voice this time.

"You'll remember," he said. Ahiru nodded in agreement,
and Fakir smiled down at the little duck. There was a
pool close to school she spent most of her day at,
waiting for him to complete classes. They always had
lunch together.

"I hope so," Utena said, biting her lip. Then she
shook her head, and a smile decorated her face. "Any
ideas where I should start?"

"The library. There's a guy named Aotoa there, and if
he doesn't have a clue, no one will."

"Okay, that sounds like a plan." She sounded a bit
more cheerful.

"It's good to have goals." /My goal is to get though
the day without anything else strange happening,/ he
thought wryly. "I'll take you by the library once we
get to the Academy. It's on the way to my morning
class."

She nodded. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

They were coming up on the main part of town now.
Ahiru moved closer to him. Fakir knew she was worried
about being stepped on by other students heading to
class. He bent down and held out his hands. She hoped
nimbly onto them and settled on the crook of his arm
as he held her close to his chest.

"Is the view better up there?" Utena asked her. She
got a happy quack in response.

The feeling of almost-strangeness that had been
assaulting him crystallized. He had been pleased Utena
had been so polite to Ahiru, but it was odd. Most
people wouldn't treat a duck like a thinking creature.

"You're very kind to her," he said softly.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Utena asked in confusion. "A
friend..." her brow furrowed as she tried to sort out
her thoughts, "I've always liked animals. Sometimes
they appear smarter than we are."

"They probably are," he said. As if on cue, a cat
wandered by, turning a curious head toward them.

Fakir nodded acknowledgment to Neko-sensei. It was
strange, seeing an animal who'd formerly been his
teacher, staring up at him with blank eyes. Ahiru had
retained her intelligence and memories, but the others
that had been caught up in the story hadn't been as
lucky.

They had reached the entrance to the school grounds.
Kinkan Academy was laid out before them, its long
boulevard sloping down toward the courtyard. Fakir
glanced over at Utena, dressed in Mytho's uniform. Her
eyes widened as she took in the sight of the school.

Fakir was reminded of the first time he and Mytho had
walked to school. He smiled. He'd been so excited,
pulling Mytho along with him. When Mytho had hesitated
at the entrance, he had said, "Don't worry, I'll
protect you."

"Don't worry; if you need anything, I'll help," he
offered. She was not Mytho, but she was evoking the
same feelings his prince had commanded.

"It's so pretty, so much like..." she paused as she
searched her scrambled memories. "I think I went to a
school like this." Her hand touched the gate, running
slender fingers along the stone.

"Your uniform was certainly of high quality." He had
noticed that; he had always been a detailed-oriented
person. It wasn't a traditional uniform, but the
design and cut had been expensive. He wished he had
been able to tell what school it came from.

"Which way is the library?" she asked, changing the
subject.

"Toward your right. Aotoa doesn't have classes until
this afternoon, so you should be able to find him
easily. Look for a guy wearing glasses and a smug
expression."

She laughed. "Smug. Glasses. Got it." He watched she
strode off towards the library. She had such
confidence for someone lost in the world, without even
her memories to guide her. He couldn't help but admire
it.

"What do you think of her, Ahiru?" he asked
rhetorically, looking down at the duck.

/She's nice! But a bit mysterious.../

Fakir frowned. That voice had sounded just like Ahiru
had, when she was girl. But Ahiru was still quacking
happily away in his arms. He sighed. It was only
wishful thinking.

*


Practice was challenging; it always was. Since Mytho
had left, Fakir had become the uncontested male star
of the school. He hadn't found a partner yet, not one
he wanted to stay with, so he had gotten used to the
rotating faces of breathless young girls who wanted to
make him theirs.

His teacher, Bruhn-sensei, always pushed him the
hardest. Fakir wasn't a particularly graceful dancer,
relying on his power and energy to carry a
performance. He was good, very good, but he had yet to
reach perfection.

The girl he was dancing with today was his age, and
one of his more frequent partners. She was ambitious,
but they lacked chemistry together.

He could feel the power in how they danced, pushing
each other to new technical, if not emotional,
heights. As always, it felt good to get things right,
to turn with a precise amount of speed, to lift his
partner just so.

But Fakir couldn't help comparing it with the dance he
shared with Ahiru. The passion they had shared,
underwater. It was a lifetime ago, and he had sworn to
keep it that way. But he couldn't seem to keep from
returning to the memory. Not today.

Bruhn-sensei noticed his distraction, watching with
narrowed, disapproving eyes. As soon as the music came
to a close, he was in Fakir's face, invading Fakir's
personal space without hesitation.

"And what was that, Fakir-kun?" he asked, his voice
deceptively mild. There were times he reminded Fakir
of Neko-sensei, but today was not one of those days.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"A dancer cannot afford to devote anything less than
his complete concentration on what they're doing. I
see potential in you, but your head is off in the
clouds." He waved a dismissing hand at the girl who
had been Fakir's partner. "You're going to practice
this piece until I'm satisfied."

"Yes, sir," Fakir agreed quietly. Inwardly, he
groaned. This would make him late for lunch with
Ahiru. And what of Utena, wandering around with only
Aotoa to guide her?

Of course, this wasn't the first time that had
happened. Bruhn-sensei had called him on his lack of
focus before. To be truthful, Fakir was finding it
hard to concentrate on school nowadays. Ballet still
held the allure it had when he was younger, but it was
no longer the most important thing in his life.

He'd have to try harder. When Bruhn-sensei nodded, he
threw himself into the dance.

*

Usually Fakir brought his lunch to avoid quarrels over
which girl would give him a special, made-with-love
meal. He liked to eat it by the pond where Ahiru spent
her days, sharing bread and his thoughts. She was a
good listener.

Today, the confusion of Utena's presence had
distracted him in the morning. He'd would have to
venture to the cafeteria to his meal, never his
favorite thing. There were always people watching him.

He realized, belatedly, that Utena probably didn't
have anything to eat, either. He wondered how she'd
spent her morning, particularly if she met Aotoa. That
would have been something he'd pay to see - he sensed
that she wasn't going to take any crap.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he saw Utena come
stomping out of the library. Her arms were held
tightly to her sides. Her hands were clenched into
fists.

Fakir wondered if he should fear for Aotoa's safety.
As she saw him and drew nearer, he noticed that her
mouth was set in a hard, thin line. Then he switched
to wondering to where she hid the body.

He needed to go find Ahiru. But he had to ask first.
"Ah...how did it go?"

If looks could kill, he would have fallen over
twitching after Utena leveled a thoroughly-not-amused
gaze on him. Then she shook her head, took a deep
breath and relaxed her shoulders. "Is it really
possible to be such a natural bastard, or do you think
Aotoa works on it?"

He covered his mouth with a hand to smother the
chuckles that wanted to escape. It would not be a very
wise move on his part. "I think it's natural talent,"
he said after a deep breath of his own. "Are you
hungry? We can go and sit somewhere and talk."

She nodded, and he motioned for her to follow. "We'll
go pick something up at the cafeteria, then we can
join Ahiru for lunch."

The cafeteria was a cacophony of shouting, laughter
and clinking silverware. Other students pressed
against them, making Fakir tense. He decided that
speed was the better part of valor, making a run for
the deli counter. "Sandwiches okay?" he shouted to
Utena.

"Sure," she yelled back, looking bemused at the odd
looks she was getting. Kinkan Academy was a large
school, but a close-knit one. People were obviously
wondering where the pink-haired girl - wearing a boy's
uniform, no less - had come from.

The line for food was an imaginary thing - it seemed
like the staff had decided it would be good endurance
training to have the students fight for their lunches.
Fakir had once heard that football players took
ballet; it also seemed that ballet dancers were
learning the rudiments of football.

Fakir was particularly good at the game, able to weave
his way through the crowd with grace. A shoulder to a
taller boy from the arts division, avoiding what would
have been a devastating kick from a music major... and
then he was at the front of the line, grabbing what he
wanted.

He could feel Utena's eyes on him as he returned,
clutching five sandwiches. "Looks like ham and tuna,"
he said. "Hope that works for you."

"That's fine," she replied. "I'm still not remembering
much, but I don't think I had any particular aversion
to ham or tuna."

He laughed a little at that, and led her down the path
to Ahiru's pond. Ahiru herself met them halfway up it,
quacking and flapping. "Are you scolding me because
we're late?" he asked. He saw Utena hide a smile
behind her hand. Ahiru pulled a duck face. She ran a
bit in front of them, as if to tell them to hurry up.

The pond was on the side of campus, with trees nearby.
It was really more ornamental than anything, but Ahiru
seemed to enjoy spending time there. They settled down
on the soft grass, and he peeled his crusts away,
offering them to Ahiru, who accepted them eagerly.

"Would she like mine as well?" Utena asked, stretching
out her slender legs in front of her.

"She'd love them. Sometimes I think she's a pig with
wings." Ahiru glared at him and lifted her head with
affronted dignity before returning to her lunch.
"Aside from being a bastard, was Aotoa able to help
you?"

"No," an unexpected voice said from behind them. Fakir
cursed under his breath, wheeling around to glare at
his distant cousin.

Aotoa was holding a lunch box, looking down at the
pair with a neutral expression. "Can I join you?" he
asked.

Fakir blinked. "Of course I don't mind," he said after
he recovered. Ahiru chirped, chiming with her consent.
"That is, if..." He glanced at Utena.

She shrugged one shoulder. "It's a free country," she
said, though the arch of her eyebrows might have
suggested otherwise.

Aotoa nodded and sat down. He was uncharacteristically
quiet as he ate. His occasional glances towards Utena
seemed to be at once thoughtful and wary. As if, Fakir
thought, amused, she was a puzzle to be solved - or a
bomb about to explode.

Utena seemed content with her ham sandwich, although
she gave Aotoa a few less-than-friendly looks. She ate
neatly, scattering no crumbs, and Fakir found himself
staring at her. Her pink hair reminded him of Ahiru,
although the shade was quite different. There was no
delicacy in her, he reflected, but Fakir had never
liked dainty girls. He preferred them to be strong,
and Utena was certainly that.

"What? Do I have mayo on my face?" she asked, rubbing
her lips half-heartedly.

He actually blushed a bit, not wanting to confess his
thoughts. "I was just wondering if you had any plans
yet."

She allowed him to divert her, popping the last bit of
her lunch into her mouth. "Not really. I tried the
computers, but I couldn't find anything about myself.
No records, no nothing." She clenched her fingers in
frustration, and he noticed the rose-shaped ring on
her fingers.

"Have you tried looking up that symbol on your ring?"
he asked without thinking.

"Huh?" She looked at the ring as if this was the first
time she noticed it. "No, I haven't."

"What ring?" Aotoa asked, breaking his silence. Utena
held up her hand. The pink-and-silver ring glinted in
the light. Fakir's breath caught. The same sick sense
of inevitability he had felt when he first saw the
prince's sword enveloped him now. Inside his head, a
voice that sounded like Ahiru asked, /Another story?/

"This one," Utena said. "I don't remember where I got
it from, but I think it stands for something." She
drew her hand back, frowning as she studied the
signet. "It was important."

"Rings represent eternity," Aotoa said. "Did a
boyfriend give it to you?"

"A... boyfriend?" she echoed.

Fakir thought that sounded wrong. Utena wasn't the
type of girl to be hung up on boys and dating./ Maybe
it represents royalty,/ the Ahiru voice added. /Don't
princes wear those kind of fancy things?/

He glanced at the duck, and saw Ahiru staring back at
him. /I'm going crazy,/ he thought.

"Maybe it's a family seal," he offered instead.

Utena bit her lip. For a moment, she looked very
young. "I...don't think I had very much family. I
kinda remember...coffins."

"Coffins?" echoed Aotoa.

Utena shrugged. "It's just an image. But a strong
one."

Fakir looked at Ahiru, but neither the duck or the
voice in his head seemed to have anything to add to
that. "Maybe we should try looking up the design in
the records." he said, returning to the original
subject.

"I can scan it and use a program to search for similar
designs," Aotoa offered. "Can I borrow it?" He held
out a hand.

Utena started to remove the ring, but paused, shaking
her head. "No. I'm sorry, but I don't want to take it
off."

Aotoa looked offended. His eyes stared intently at
Utena, before he huffed a bit in frustration. "I'll
return it," he said impatiently.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "But I get the feeling
that I have to wear it, no matter what."

"Like a wedding ring?" Fakir suggested. Utena looked
too young to be married, but he'd learned not to trust
appearances.

"Maybe," Utena replied, rubbing the face of the ring
absently, "I don't think I was married. But it feels
like I made a promise."

"To who?" Fakir asked. He knew the question was
probably pointless, but felt he had to ask it anyway.
Like a character in a story, keeping the flow of the
narrative going, he thought uneasily. He reached out
to stroke Ahiru's head, reminding himself of what was
still real.

Utena hesitated for a long moment. "I don't know," she
said finally, but sounded unsure. Fakir's unease was
displaced by speculation. Maybe she had remembered
something...

Aota's voice broke into his thoughts. "If you can't
take it off, could I take a rubbing of it then? I
could still scan the design that way." He said, adding
irritably. "You're not making it easy for me to help."

Utena lowered her head. "I'm sorry. I do appreciate
your help, though. Do you have any paper?" she asked.
She held out her hand, offering tacit permission for
Aotoa's plan.

Aotoa managed to produce a clean, white sketch pad
from what Fakir knew was an impeccably organized bag.
He watch Aotoa placed Utena's hand on his knee before
covering it with paper. "Hold it steady," he advised,
before covering the ring with a corner of a sheet.
Using a sharp number two pencil, he pressed down,
getting a reverse image of the ring as he covered the
paper with black lead.

Aotoa finished sketching and held the paper up to his
eyes, scrutinizing it. "That'll do," he said, more to
himself than to the others.

Utena stood up and stretched, looking even more
restless now that Aotoa had taken the rubbing. "What
now?" she asked.

"I have afternoon classes -" Fakir began, but was
distracted by Ahiru chirping at him.

/Maybe she'll like to come along,/ said the Ahiru
voice in his head at same time.

He hesitated, but finally gave up and asked
tentatively in his head, /Ahiru?,/ still wondering if
he was going crazy.

The duck quacked in surprise, fluttering her wings in
agitation as she moved to press a the tips of her
feathers against his knee. /You can hear me? You can
hear me?/ said the voice, panicked and excited at the
same time.

He nodded slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
/Ahiru, quack twice if you hear me./ He wasn't sure if
he wanted this to be real; a duck shouldn't be able to
speak, but he had missed her voice so much...

On cue, Ahiru quacked twice, her eyes blue and huge
before she launched herself, hopping awkwardly so she
could land on his knee. /Fakir, it's me!/

He automatically cupped his hands around her so she
wouldn't fall. Her feathers were soft against his
hands and he smiled. /Oh, Ahiru./

/I can talk to you! This is wonderful!/ Ahiru babbled
in his mind. Fakir could almost feel the bubbles of
joy rising underneath her words.

/It is,/ he agreed. /But how is it possible?/

Ahiru blinked her eyes at him. /I don't know,/ she
said after a pause, /magic?/

His stomach sank as he realized that this miracle
probably foretold something more sinister. Magic, from
his experience, wasn't a thing of purity. It was a
thing of darkness and desperation, and even the
seemingly benign gift of Ahiru's voice would probably
have to be paid for in blood.

He didn't realize how long he'd taken to speak to
Ahiru, because suddenly a hand set itself down on his
shoulder. He glanced over, startled, as he stared into
Utena's blue eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said.

"Did something happen?" Utena asked reasonably.

He didn't want to tell her. It would sound insane to
someone who hadn't lived under Drosselmeyer's rule.

"No," he said instead, "I was just lost in thought."
He took a last bite out of his sandwich. "Actually, I
need to get back to campus."

"More classes?" asked Utena.

"Rehearsal. I'm in the school's production of the
Nutcracker this year." Even amidst current events, he
felt proud at this accomplishment.

"That sounds interesting," Utena replied. "Mind if I
come along and watch?"

/What about me?/ Ahiru asked in his head. /Can I come,
too?/

/You're a distraction,/ he told her. Then he realized
that Utena was still waiting for his reply. "Um, no.
That should be fine."

Aotoa, who was watching Fakir with distressingly
knowing eyes, brushed his clothes off. "I'll stop by
your house tonight and let you know if I found
anything." He stared at Ahiru for a long moment. "And
maybe we can talk."

Fakir glared at Aotoa. "Sure thing," he agreed,
although he wasn't looking forward to it.

Utena ignored the byplay, instead rising to her feet.
She began to stretch slowly, raising her hands to a
clear blue sky. "When's your class start?" she asked.

Fakir looked at his watch and almost groaned. He only
had ten minutes to change and make an appearance in
the salle. "We'd better get going."

Utena nodded and waited for him to get up. Ahiru
hopped up too, looking determinedly in his direction.
He sighed. /You're coming along no matter what I say,
right?/ he thought at her. Her head bopped up and
down. He had to smile then, despite it all.

When he looked up, Aotoa was still watching them. At
Fakir's glance, he looked away and started walking.
Fakir bit his lip, but said nothing.

Instead, he nodded at Utena and they begun making
their way up the path.

______________________

Help, I'm fallen into a weird fandom and can't get out!

Fanfiction: http://www.midnightrevolution.org/quicksilver/
Fic Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/~quillofferings


       
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