Title: Hadn't Thought To Explore
Fandom: Princess Tutu
Pairing: Fakir x Ahiru, onesided Rue x Mytho and Kraehe x Mytho (they are totally separate identities idk what you're talking about.)
Rating: So very G, wtf.
Warnings: Poetic nonsense. Very mild spoilers for Kraehe?
Theme: RYUU I LOVE YOU LOTS AND LOTS.
Word Count: 473
Nota Bene: MERRY WINTER TO YOU RYUU MY DARLING AND THANK YOU FOR MY BEE. HE IS SOFT AND CUDDLY AND I LOVE HIM. I AM SORRY THAT THIS IS NOT THE PROMISED SEEKERFIC BUT I WILL WRITE IT EVENTUALLY.
There was one thing that Ahiru firmly believed in, more than anything else, and it was this: that you have to dance for a reason. You don't dance for money or fame or prestige. Because if your dance doesn't come from your heart, it means nothing.
The first time she saw Mytho dance, she was struck by how beautiful it was. He moved with such elegance and grace, more than Ahiru could ever dream of imitating. But every movement, every plié and jeté, stung her as if someone was jabbing needles into her skin. There was no heart in Mytho's dance and no light in his eyes, and nothing had ever made her feel so empty.
Ahiru thought she could feel the same absence of emotion in Rue's dance sometimes. When she and Mytho danced a pas de deux, his overwhelming emptiness seemed to drain any feeling in the other girl's heart, like some kind of vortex. Only for a moment, though, and then Rue's intense sadness and desperate, desperate love took center stage.
Kraehe's dance frightened her most of all. There was so much fierce wanting whenever the raven princess was near Mytho. Jealousy and bitter betrayal when he flees her to stand beside her rival. Possessiveness. And always, whether it underscores the other emotions or overshadows them, an aura of frantic despair and apprehension, and a single, clear thought: "You can't leave me."
But the strangest was Fakir, Ahiru thought, as she stood at the barre in the otherwise empty studio. Mytho was blank, Rue was sad, Kraehe was angry... but Fakir was just mystifying. An enigma. No matter what or how he danced, Ahiru couldn't pick out exactly what he was really feeling. It was as if he tried to shut himself off from anyone watching him. She could feel a tangle of emotions... distrust. Uncertainty. Worry, obsession, confusion. Fakir was-
The unexpected voice made Ahiru nearly jump out of her skin. She forced down the urge to quack in surprise. "W-what?!"
Fakir was leaning against the door frame, his usual expression of irritation and sarcastic surliness firmly in place. "You said my name. What do you want?"
She went red as a tomato. "N-nothing!"
Fakir rolled his eyes. "Whatever. If you're not going to practice, get out of my way." Ahiru wordlessly stepped aside, still a little shocked from his sudden appearance, then stuck her tongue out as he passed. Fakir ignored her. He took up a position where she had stood, and was perfectly still for a moment, eyes closed.
And as Ahiru watched, she felt. Embarrassment and annoyance and... affection. Her face must have reflected her surprise, because Fakir paused mid-pas de cheval, watching her.
She blinked. "...Yes?"
"You'll never get better if you don't make some kind of effort, stupid."
Ahiru's expression remained blank. Fakir sighed in exasperation, then held out his hand to her.
"Dance with me."