12.1

[fairytaleknight]

Thunder cracks, or perhaps it's Fakir's head throbbing. He opens his eyes.

Where-- I'm in our room, of course. That's my ceiling. But--

He has a vague sense that something's wrong about the ceiling, but he can't place it.

"How did I--" Fakir says, out loud. How did I get here? There was -- there was a battle. Princess Kraehe. I couldn't fight,

Comments

[reallyaduck]

"Oh," Tutu says, looking up sleepily from her perch, "Fakir!"

Her voice cracks, startled and unmelodic. It's not Princess Tutu's voice.

"How are your wounds?"

[fairytaleknight]

"Don't give me that," Fakir snaps with weary irritation.

I am not going to talk about my injuries with Princess Tutu in the middle of the night. Thank you.

"Why are you still Tutu?"

[reallyaduck]

Tutu flushes.

"Well, I thought, since I was coming into the boy's dorm, it might be a bad idea to wear my normal clothes . . ."

Because it's WAY less awkward to come into the boy's dormitory as a pretty ballerina princess in a strapless magical top that reveals an actually existent chest.

"Uh, was that weird?"

[fairytaleknight]

For the first time, Fakir recognizes Duck in Princess Tutu.

She saw me. Duck. Tutu. She saw me flinch. She saw me injured. She carried me home.

Fakir turns his head away from her, deeply shamed. "Sorry for troubling you with this."