Two Archetypes in Search of a Story
A Revolutionary Girl Utena/Princess Tutu crossover
By aishuu and ekaterinn
There was nothing more relaxing for Fakir than dangling his feet in the water, watching as Ahiru swam by with contentment. The water was cool on his toes, and balanced a sheaf of papers in his lap, daydreaming. Every now and then he would scribble down a sentence or two, to give the pretense of writing, but in truth his mind was focused on the clouds that drifted lazily above his head.
Their story had ended well enough, he thought, not for the first time. He enjoyed this quiet life, although a part of him wished Ahiru could still talk to him. Instead, he had to make due with her quacks as he tried to interpret what she wanted.
She was quacking at him now, flapping her wings in the water and getting his ankles wet. Fakir was pretty sure she was laughing at him. So he laughed back and poked her with his big toe, which set off another round of quacks. Looking up, he realized it was getting late. If he wanted to get home to make dinner and look over his notes for class tomorrow, they would have to leave soon.
"Come on," he told her, pushing himself to his feet, "we have to get going."
Her answering quack sounded very much like an affront, but she scrambled up onto the shore anyway. They headed down the path, side-by-side. It would take them about a half an hour to walk back to his parents' house on the edge of town. His house now. He had been too terrified to go back as a child, but whatever ghosts were left in the familiar floors and walls were resting quietly now.
He knew he had gained a reputation for being "peculiar" as of late, as he eschewed most of the school's activities in favor of living with a duck. He knew that some of the girls who once had adored him thought him crazed, probably because Mytho and Rue left. The stories they were spinning about him - and he managed to hear every one through Aotoa - stated he was heartbroken, though they differed about whom he'd been in love with.
As he opened his door, he looked down at Ahiru, wishing he could tell them the truth. The strange fog of forgetfulness that had enveloped the town didn't encourage him. Instead, he would live quietly with Ahiru, keeping his promise to remain with her always.
As Fakir prepared dinner for himself, he took care to lay out a few different slices of bread for Ahiru. She was very much a bread-eating duck, though he had sometimes seen her chasing grasshoppers in the field, quacking excitedly. She had never seemed very intent on catching them however. So he kept a variety of bread in the house for her.
Tonight, he placed a slice each of white, rye and sunflower on her plate. Lighting a couple of candles first, he put his own plate down on the wooden table and sat down to eat. They ate together in comfortable silence, Ahiru being too engrossed in her bread to quack. Fakir drew out his meal, relishing the time with Ahiru and not wanting to study.
He had considered quitting dancing in favor of a career as a writer, but had decided that he had always loved ballet. He was good at it, and had a special talent. A very small part of him - one Fakir would have denied, had he known it existed - kept reminding him he had to dance because she couldn't.
His homework, an essay on Il Ballarino, wasn't due until next Monday, and he felt justified in putting it off. Ahiru was being particularly lively tonight, flapping around him between nibbles of bread, and he wanted to give her his full attention.
He cleared his plate and returned to the table. Smiling at Ahiru, he gently stroked the top of her head with the tip of his fingers. Her feather were soft and still a bit damp. Immediately, she burst into a flurry of quacks that just made him smile more.
"Did you like the sunflower bread?" he asked. She nodded enthusiastically, bobbing her head up and down. "We'll get more tomorrow then," he promised.
A loud CRACK startled them both, causing Fakir to reach for his sword. Except the sword was wrapped in a bed sheet in his closet, where he had put it away. But some part of him was still on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Shh," he told Ahiru, who looked likely to exhaust herself with her nervous flapping, "it's only thunder."
He picked her up with gentle hands, cradling her fragile body reassuringly, although he might have been the one drawing the most comfort. Her tiny frame trembled in his hands. "I won't let anything hurt you," he promised. He may have been a lousy knight, but he would protect what was important to him.
She quacked softly, her head turning toward the door. Then she fluttered her wings, fearlessly going forward.
"Is someone out there?" he asked, trying to keep his heart in place. He didn't hear any rain, and there was no flashes of lightning.
He opened the door for Ahiru and walked out behind her. It wasn't raining, but the wind was rustling in the trees. Fakir found himself a bit spooked.
A figure came out of the darkness. Ahiru quacked at it, flapping her wings in nervous excitement. Fakir stared. It looked like Ahiru, in her lost girl-form, was walking towards him. Then she came out of the darkness and Fakir saw a rather bedraggled looking girl wearing a cloak and a boy's school uniform. Perhaps I am peculiar if I'm seeing things now, he thought to himself. The girl had pink hair. Her eyes flickered between him and Ahiru before she smiled.
"Hello," she said, "I think I'm lost."
The girl was named Tenjou Utena, and Fakir felt like he should know her. There was something familiar in her face, though he would swear on Ahiru's life that they'd never met before.
Utena sat at his table, cradling a cup of tea in her hands. She was explaining how she'd come to be in Kinkan town, and he listened closely, hoping for a clue. She was pretty, in a tomboyish sort of way, but Fakir felt no attraction to her. Instead, he wanted to protect her in the same way he'd served Mytho. Since he hadn't had that urge since the story had ended, he was on guard and suspicious.
"I was trying to head south towards the coast, but I got lost and ended up in a forest. When I managed to find my way out of it, I found myself deeper into the continent instead." She took a sip of her tea. "I never heard of Kinkan before, but at least it's not the forest!" She laughed.
Ahiru seemed to be listening intensely as well. "What are you doing on the road, anyway?" he asked, feeling uneasy.
Utena's eyes turned sad. "I'm looking for friend," she said. "A girl with a soft smile."
"What's her name?" he asked.
Utena pressed the tips of her fingers against her forehead, squinting a bit. "I... I can't remember," she said softly. "My head feels like someone threw all my thoughts into a blender and hit puree."
For a second, he wanted to throw her out. There was something strange about this girl, and he'd dealt with all the strange he ever wanted to. She wasn't an enemy - he knew that instinctively - but she would drag him back into a world he thought finished.
Ahiru quacked softly, waddling across the table to stand in front of Utena. Utena smiled at the duck, touching Ahiru's back with a gentle hand. "I'll know her when I see her," she said. "She's waiting for me, somewhere."
"Great, you'll know her when you see her," he repeated sarcastically, "I'm surprised you remember your name."
Utena said nothing, but just looked at him. Ahiru seemed to be on her side and quacked at him loudly. Fakir finally looked away and shrugged. He didn't want any part of anyone else's strangeness. Or their quests, for that matter.
Fakir wanted to live in his house with Ahiru. He wanted to buy sunflower bread from Mika in town. He wanted to talk to Aotoa after classes and be laughed at for hanging around with a duck. He wanted a normal life.
Utena offered him a smile. "I'm lucky, aren't I?" The words were tinted with irony, but her face was more amused than frustrated.
Fakir sighed, knowing he was going to regret what he was about to offer. "You can stay here for a bit," he said. "I've got a spare futon, and you can share Ahiru's room, providing she's okay with that." He turned toward Ahiru, and received a confirming nod. The little duck seemed to approve of the idea.
Utena didn't laugh at the idea of staying with a duck. "I appreciate your help," she said instead. "Thank you, Ahiru-chan." Her smile was warm as she addressed Ahiru directly and with sincerity.
Fakir's breath caught. For a second, he thought he saw Mytho's face superimposed on hers.
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 Aota 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 sturdily, 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 ducks - 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.