31_days | [April 14] [Princess Tutu] Narcissus

Title: Narcissus
Day/Theme: April 14: Reflections in the water
Series: Princess Tutu
Character/Pairing: Autor, Pique
Rating: G

Autor leaned out over the river, pushing his left hand against the bank to steady himself, and stared at his reflection in the water. It stared back out at him, looking at the subtly haughty smirk on his lips and the hazel eyes shining with stubbornness and curiosity, hidden behind glass held in a metal frame. He traced his eyes along every inch of the face in the water, searching for a lost love.

He frowned when he saw another figure’s mirror image in the water.
“What are you doing?” he asked, with just a hint of irritation in his voice.
“What are you doing?” she echoed, violet eyes meeting the reflection’s hazel. “You know the river’s dangerous right now. There’s been a lot of rain lately.”
“I know. I won’t fall in.”
“You might. People fall in this river all the time. That’s why the gate’s locked at night.”
The river mimicked his sour expression. “That’s to keep people like you safe.”

Pique crouched down to his level, her eyes flashing. “Listen, Autor! I don’t know what your deal is, but you’ve got a plenty of mirrors at your home! Why don’t you just go home and use that to do whatever you’re doing? Unless you WANT to fall into the river.”
“Do you have to keep prattling on like that? I’m starting to suspect you like the sound of your own voice a bit too much.”
“Look who’s talking,” Pique muttered under her breath. She wrapped her arms around Autor’s right arm and began to pull. “Come on! Let’s GO.” At the word ‘go’ she jerked his arm again, knocking him off balance. He whirled his left arm in the air to keep himself from falling into the river.
“Don’t!” he yelped, “You’re going to MAKE me fall in if you do that!”
“Autor, I want to go!”
“In a moment! Just give me a moment more!!”
“You know, nevermind! Stare at your reflection all you want, I don’t care. I’m sure it’s quite beautiful to you, I can see why you’d hate to part with it.”

Autor winced when she said those words, but hesitated as she turned. There was a part of him that just wanted to let her go. No sense in keeping her here when she didn’t want to be.

But, at the same time, he didn’t want to be left alone with just a reflection.

“Pique, wait.”
“What now?”
“…It’s easier to see things differently in the river than it is in the mirror.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
Autor sighed, leaning away from the bank and adjusting his glasses. “I look at myself in the mirror at least once a day. I’m used to looking into it. It’s easier to look into something else if I want to see something I normally don’t pay attention to.”
“…You’re still not making much sense.”
“Alright, listen…” he said, starting to talk in his “explaining” voice. (Pique knew that tone of voice well, and wasn’t at all fond of it, but decided that just this once she’d humor him.)
“You know that woman that sells fruit in a stall nearby the main square?”
“The crazy one that says her family’s orchard was blessed by some sort of fairy or something and insists they’re the best you can get anywhere because they’re magical?”
“Yes, that woman. That fruit is actually quite good, you know. I wouldn’t say magical, but…”
“OK. What about her? Unless you just wanted to talk about fruit.”
“Well…it’s just that…I’ve gone twice a week every week since my father’s death to buy fruit from her, and week after week she always calls me ‘Uhrmacher’, without fail. I used to try to tell her that I wasn’t Uhrmacher, I was his son, but she never listened to me, so I gave up and started responding to it.”
“Whoa…she’s even crazier than I thought!”
“You get used to it…that’s why it was so jarring to me.”
“What was?”
“Today, she didn’t call me Uhrmacher. She looked me straight in the eye and said ‘Oh, Autor, you look so much like your mother.’”

The pair was silent for a moment, neither exactly sure how to continue the conversation. The river babbled a few suggestions on how to move forward, but the two ignored it.
“So,” Pique said when she finally had the nerve to speak again, “you were trying to see your mother?”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“…And did you?”
“No. It was silly to think I could. Mom was…is beautiful.”
“Well…Maybe you shouldn’t be looking for your mother in a river.”
“Then where am I supposed to look?”

There was another long pause. Autor picked a daffodil that was growing on the bank and twirled it between his fingers, watching it spin. “Sometimes, I almost think my father’s death was easier.”
“But…your mom might still be alive.”
“Yes, but she might be dead. That’s the thing…I don’t know. I might die without ever knowing, just like my father.”
“Autor…if she is alive, do you think she’s going to want to come back to the sight of her son moping by the river?”
Autor gave the flower one last twirl, and then looked up at his friend. “Probably not.”
“So, what’re you doing? Let’s go get some pizza at the café or something.”
“I’m guessing I’m buying.”
“Of course!” the violet-haired girl said with a grin. “What do you say?”
The boy allowed the ghost of a smile to cross his face. “Sounds nice.”
He tossed the flower down onto the bank, leaving it to stare at its twin in the water. Why spend your time staring at a reflection when you’ve got good company to entertain?