(idk imagine this takes place during some AU where ahiru is still a girl and eventually got to take pointe lessons with the others)
“Aaaugh...so Pique and Lilie really weren't playing up how much pointe would hurt...”
Sitting in the shade with her back against the trunk of a tree, Ahiru winced as she gingerly massaged a bare foot covered in bruises. Even after following all of her classmates' tips on how to make her new shoes soft and pliable – and what seemed like hours of stretching, flexing, and soaking – her muscles still throbbed. Of course Mr. Cat had always emphasized how challenging going en pointe would be, but experiencing it was something completely different. How could something that made you look graceful hurt so much? It'd felt like she had her toes wedged into corsets!
It really is different from being Princess Tutu, she reflected, running a finger over the tips of her toenails. There was always a dreamlike quality to the times when she that other self sprang forth from the pendant to become one with her, but while there had definitely been pain at times, it had come from the tip of a blade or a cold, feather-edged wind rather than the dancing itself. But that makes sense for a dance spirit, right? It must be as easy as walking for her.
She sighed and let her arms drop to her sides. “I really wish I could ask her for some advice...”
“Hmm? You needed some advice, Ahiru?”
“Qua– gah!” She'd jolted halfway up at the unexpected voice, only for a fresh lance of pain to bring her back down. “F-F-Freya!”
“Oh, dear.” The older girl leaned over her with a concerned frown, the ends of her hair brushing the grass. “Are you alright? I'm so sorry to have startled you...”
“It's fine!” Ahiru forced a grin as she tried to shift position and hide her feet under her skirt; she definitely didn't want to show something so unsightly to someone so...well, beautiful. “I was, um, just talking to myself about, uh, this really tough assignment we got! Y-Yeah...so I was thinking about going to the library and seeing if someone would, er, look over my paper...?”
Aaaah that's such an obvious lie! But Freya didn't seem to notice or care as she gracefully sat down cross-legged by Ahiru's side, a small wicker basket in her lap.
“Well, speaking of tough assignments, I heard you've started en pointe lessons?”
“O-Oh, yeah! I mean it's not that impressive, I'm behind everyone else so I still kind of have to do remedial work with Mr. Cat to catch up on the basics but–” Ahiru caught herself before she could take off at the hundred-words-a-minute pace she spoke at when especially frazzled. “Ehehe...It'll probably take ages for me to be as good as you, though.”
“You shouldn't talk yourself down like that, you know. It's a very long and difficult process. There's no shame in admitting it.”
“...Is it that obvious?”
Freya just smiled knowingly, and Ahiru couldn't fight back a sigh as she finally unfolded her legs.
“You and Rue and all the other advanced class members...I just can't imagine you with any kind of blemish, let alone something like this,” she mumbled, looking down. “It doesn't look graceful at all.”
When Freya lightly laid a hand atop her foot, she yelped, albeit more out of embarrassment than pain. Then her eyes widened slightly as the other girl turned that hand over, revealing a couple of faded – but still fairly new-looking – scars.
“E-Eh? You're hurt!”
“Oh, it's nothing serious. I missed some thorns the last time I was pruning the rosebushes, I suppose.” Freya traced the scars with the fingers of her other hand. “When we first met, I said something like 'all I need to do is pray for the flowers to grow', didn't I? But that's not exactly true, you know. Even I have to do things like weeding and getting down on my knees in the dirt; gloves or no gloves, you should see how my hands look when I'm getting the gardens ready in the spring!”
“I still think they're pretty,” said Ahiru without thinking. Then, as the words registered and her face turned several shades of red, she babbled, “I-I-I mean, the flowers probably feel happy that you go through all that to take care of them! And it must not hurt as much because you love them! Th-The flowers, that is!”
Freya giggled, and took Ahiru's hand in hers. Ahiru's heart felt ready to burst out of her chest and go flying over the horizon.
“You see what I'm trying to say, don't you? Your feet, my hands; they're the same. Think of them like...battle scars, something to be born with pride. I went through what you're going through when I learned to dance in toe shoes. So did every other girl who does. Going on through the pain because you love it shows how passionate you really are. Isn't that admirable?”
“A-Ah-wh-ff-uh-um–”
“Although...” With her other hand, Freya removed a sweet-smelling jar from her wicker basket. “I find that a rosehip lotion works wonders as well. May I?”
for this one, I decided to interpret the theme as both ‘optimism’ and ‘certainty’.
Ahiru clutched the curtain hard enough to turn her fingers white, knees knocking together, eyes spinning. Pique had tried several times, unsuccessfully, to pry her loose, and now fell back against a stack of props with an explosive sigh. “You seriously can't be thinking of giving up now of all times! You worked so hard for this role in the first place!”
“That's exactly what makes this all the more tragic, though, isn't it?” Lilie gushed from beside her. “Making it almost to the summit of the peak, only to fall at the last second and–”
“Aargh, you're not helping!” Clamping a hand over her pigtailed friend's mouth, Pique tried another approach. “Ahiru, you don't have to be afraid of screwing up. Mr. Cat wouldn't have given you the spot if he didn't think you were good enough. And it's a pretty short piece, it'll be over before you know it! Just...don't think about anything but the moves, okay? That's what I always do!”
But to Ahiru, the words seemed to come from miles away. It wasn't even the audience that had her paralyzed, or the thought of incurring her teacher's wrath. It was the sight of Freya in the center of the stage. Even if her part away from the rest of the background dancers was short, she'd been overjoyed during every rehearsal...and now she could only picture disaster.
What if I make a mistake and ruin Freya's scene? Oh no, what if I make a mistake and Freya gets HURT? I'll never be able to show my face around her again! Or worse, she'll never want to see me again and she'll hate me FOREVER!
Gliding across the stage, her skirts fanning around her like the petals of an ethereal flower, Freya executed a flawless turn. And their eyes met. Suddenly, it felt as if all the tension had drained from Ahiru's body.
“Your cue's coming! Go, go!”
“Yes, GO!” cried Lilie, and shoved her out much more enthusiastically than Pique did.
Ahiru should've stumbled, should've fallen on her face and caused an uproar of laughter and several broken legs and the end of the world, but instead she seemed magnetically drawn towards Freya's outstretched hand. She went up on her toes, spun, and skipped to join the other dancers frolicking around her.
Dance could convey emotions in place of words – she knew that well. Between the unwavering look in Freya's eyes and the brief sensation of their fingertips touching, she'd realized that the other girl's faith in her was unshakeable.
I know you can do it.
Just like that, the question of 'if' she'd fail ceased to matter. How could she, when Freya believed in her so?
