[fic] 18coda: Mirror Image
Prompt: Canon - a musical form where the melody or tune is imitated at several parts at regular intervals. The individual parts may enter at different measures and pitches. The tune may also be played at different speeds, backwards, or inverted. ~Twisted imitation
Title: Mirror Image
Fandom: Princess Tutu
Character: Rue/Kraehe
Rating: PG
Summary: I am you. You are me. We are different but we are one.
Disclaimer: Princess Tutu and all of its characters belong to Ikuko Itoh.
Notes: As confusing as it may seem and sound... they're supposed to be reflections on the entire dual-personality and I-don't-remember-anything issues. I must have hit my head, I think, when I wrote this so be kind~ xDDD
Mirror Image
I am you. You are me.
Pale moonbeams filtered through the gauzy white curtains of her windows, flooding the room in luminescent glow. It reflected against her mirror, the mirror she had been looking herself into. She could now see herself clearly on the silvery surface, her reflection a startling image. Those eyes, that face… they were all hers. And yet they seemed that they did not belong to her. So otherworldly, inhuman. The girl in the mirror, made up like a doll, dressed up like a ballerina, looked so much like her. A reflection. But it was not her.
Who are you?
The girl in the mirror traced the contours of her face with slender fingers, a graceful movement as if to memorize them, just as she traced her own face with her own fingers. How similar they seem and yet different at the same time. Their eyes, both startling deep sanguine in color, and yet the girl’s glimmered a darkness within them, reflected more pain, more sorrow, a glitter of hatred and suffering. Their lips, thin and pink like petals of a budding rose, and yet the girl’s were curved upwards, a knowing smirk, a sinister smile. Their cheekbones, high and framed by soft dark locks, and yet the girl’s had sharper angles, severe features. She reached out to touch the cool glass of the mirror just as her reflection imitated her actions, their hands pressed against each other.
Who are you?
I am you. Do you not know me?
Flashes of memories… A young girl… A raven… A sword… A young man… A kiss… A dream… A princess… A meeting… A doll… A heart… Whose memory was it? Was it hers? Or was it the reflection’s? She didn’t know.
I am you. You are me. Do you not know me?
She took a step back, frightened. Yet she could not understand why. Why was she frightened over a reflection? What did the reflection know? What was its purpose? Was it dream? Was it real? She didn’t know. She had asked herself so many times upon seeing her reflection yet there was no answer.
Do you not know me?
A glimmer of red and she turned her gaze to her bureau, to a small velvet box, darker than any midnight. The red gem inside glittered, a shard of a heart. She was afraid to touch it, afraid it would disappear. But now she understood the sorrow, the pain, the suffering of the girl in the mirror.
You and I. We are one. Unloved. Ugly. Rejected.
The Queen Moon outside was high in the night sky, hanging like a large pale disc, gazing over the world. She touched the gem, felt its warmth, its longing. A throb and her eyes narrowed. An emotion. She withdrew her fingers as if it stung her just as two ravens flew into her window, seemingly materializing from the darkness outside. The reflection’s smirk widened for another fraction of an inch, the ravens transforming into a pair of unlaced ballet shoes, as black as their feathers.
We are one.
She stepped into them and almost immediately, blinding pain flooded her body. It was torture, an agonizing experience, and the blood-curdling scream that escaped her lips was an evidence of such. It was like fire and ice on her every fiber, every nerve, a thousand needles piercing her, sending her to her knees. A wave of sorrow, of suffering, of anguish washed over her with a startling realization, like cold water during a stifling day. And then, it was gone, the superficial pain. What was left was a stabbing feeling in her chest, as if trying to rip her chest open.
She raised her eyes once more to the reflection, the glint of hesitation in them gone. They were different and yet they were one. She was her. Those eyes, that face... She was her. She was the darkness in her heart, the suffering, the pain, the truth. She was the night that surrounded her existence, enveloped her. She was the voice who whispered from the gloom, bidding her to do its wishes. She was her. All the ugliness of the world.
The reflection had changed. Reversed. The girl in the mirror became her and she became the girl in the mirror, made up like a doll, dressed up like a ballerina. Tears had broken down the girl and she was on her knees, weeping. There was sadness in her dark eyes, remorse, regret. And she turned away from the sight, repulsed by it. She was now the creature of the dark, the embodiment of the ugliness of the world, a mere silhouette of a princess whose face was covered by a veil, a fog that would never lift, a mask that would never break.
She walked to the window and gazed into the night. She was bound once more, imprisoned eternally in the cages of her heart, her freedom within her sight yet still out of reach, teasing and mocking her. The shard of the heart was pressed against her palm, warm, loving, painful. She glanced once more at the mirror, the girl inside still crying.
I am you. You are me. Unloved. Ugly. Rejected. Do you not know me?
“I am Princess Kraehe,” she whispered into the night, to the moon, to the darkness, her grasp around the heart tightening. “Remember my name.”
Title: Mirror Image
Fandom: Princess Tutu
Character: Rue/Kraehe
Rating: PG
Summary: I am you. You are me. We are different but we are one.
Disclaimer: Princess Tutu and all of its characters belong to Ikuko Itoh.
Notes: As confusing as it may seem and sound... they're supposed to be reflections on the entire dual-personality and I-don't-remember-anything issues. I must have hit my head, I think, when I wrote this so be kind~ xDDD
Mirror Image
I am you. You are me.
Pale moonbeams filtered through the gauzy white curtains of her windows, flooding the room in luminescent glow. It reflected against her mirror, the mirror she had been looking herself into. She could now see herself clearly on the silvery surface, her reflection a startling image. Those eyes, that face… they were all hers. And yet they seemed that they did not belong to her. So otherworldly, inhuman. The girl in the mirror, made up like a doll, dressed up like a ballerina, looked so much like her. A reflection. But it was not her.
Who are you?
The girl in the mirror traced the contours of her face with slender fingers, a graceful movement as if to memorize them, just as she traced her own face with her own fingers. How similar they seem and yet different at the same time. Their eyes, both startling deep sanguine in color, and yet the girl’s glimmered a darkness within them, reflected more pain, more sorrow, a glitter of hatred and suffering. Their lips, thin and pink like petals of a budding rose, and yet the girl’s were curved upwards, a knowing smirk, a sinister smile. Their cheekbones, high and framed by soft dark locks, and yet the girl’s had sharper angles, severe features. She reached out to touch the cool glass of the mirror just as her reflection imitated her actions, their hands pressed against each other.
Who are you?
I am you. Do you not know me?
Flashes of memories… A young girl… A raven… A sword… A young man… A kiss… A dream… A princess… A meeting… A doll… A heart… Whose memory was it? Was it hers? Or was it the reflection’s? She didn’t know.
I am you. You are me. Do you not know me?
She took a step back, frightened. Yet she could not understand why. Why was she frightened over a reflection? What did the reflection know? What was its purpose? Was it dream? Was it real? She didn’t know. She had asked herself so many times upon seeing her reflection yet there was no answer.
Do you not know me?
A glimmer of red and she turned her gaze to her bureau, to a small velvet box, darker than any midnight. The red gem inside glittered, a shard of a heart. She was afraid to touch it, afraid it would disappear. But now she understood the sorrow, the pain, the suffering of the girl in the mirror.
You and I. We are one. Unloved. Ugly. Rejected.
The Queen Moon outside was high in the night sky, hanging like a large pale disc, gazing over the world. She touched the gem, felt its warmth, its longing. A throb and her eyes narrowed. An emotion. She withdrew her fingers as if it stung her just as two ravens flew into her window, seemingly materializing from the darkness outside. The reflection’s smirk widened for another fraction of an inch, the ravens transforming into a pair of unlaced ballet shoes, as black as their feathers.
We are one.
She stepped into them and almost immediately, blinding pain flooded her body. It was torture, an agonizing experience, and the blood-curdling scream that escaped her lips was an evidence of such. It was like fire and ice on her every fiber, every nerve, a thousand needles piercing her, sending her to her knees. A wave of sorrow, of suffering, of anguish washed over her with a startling realization, like cold water during a stifling day. And then, it was gone, the superficial pain. What was left was a stabbing feeling in her chest, as if trying to rip her chest open.
She raised her eyes once more to the reflection, the glint of hesitation in them gone. They were different and yet they were one. She was her. Those eyes, that face... She was her. She was the darkness in her heart, the suffering, the pain, the truth. She was the night that surrounded her existence, enveloped her. She was the voice who whispered from the gloom, bidding her to do its wishes. She was her. All the ugliness of the world.
The reflection had changed. Reversed. The girl in the mirror became her and she became the girl in the mirror, made up like a doll, dressed up like a ballerina. Tears had broken down the girl and she was on her knees, weeping. There was sadness in her dark eyes, remorse, regret. And she turned away from the sight, repulsed by it. She was now the creature of the dark, the embodiment of the ugliness of the world, a mere silhouette of a princess whose face was covered by a veil, a fog that would never lift, a mask that would never break.
She walked to the window and gazed into the night. She was bound once more, imprisoned eternally in the cages of her heart, her freedom within her sight yet still out of reach, teasing and mocking her. The shard of the heart was pressed against her palm, warm, loving, painful. She glanced once more at the mirror, the girl inside still crying.
I am you. You are me. Unloved. Ugly. Rejected. Do you not know me?
“I am Princess Kraehe,” she whispered into the night, to the moon, to the darkness, her grasp around the heart tightening. “Remember my name.”