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“I don’t understand!” Rue cried, throwing the vase of flowers at the wall. It shattered on impact, porcelain and water spraying across the room. The flowers scattered, too, petals flying every which way.
Ahiru gave me those flowers. She seethed, angry with herself for throwing the vase. Ahiru gave me those flowers, and I destroyed them. I… I destroyed them. Just like I’m going to destroy everything else.
She sank to the floor, tears spilling out of her eyes. She pulled her knees up to her chest and screamed in anguish, grabbing handfuls of her raven black hair and tugging.
She screamed until her throat was hoarse, until she had no tears left to cry, until her head hurt from dehydration.
She laid limp against the wall, an empty husk of a person- a raven? She didn’t even know what she was anymore. No one would tell her and she couldn’t figure it out- until she mustered up the strength to crawl across the floor and collect the few whole roses she could find.
“Ahiru.” She whispered pathetically, running her hands along the thornless stems.
The redhead had handed her the bouquet with fingers wrapped in bandages and the brightest smile in the world on her face, praising Rue for doing her best and getting a standing ovation at her recital.
Rue had wanted to kill her in that moment. Rue had wanted to reach into Ahiru’s chest and crush her heart into a million pieces. Rue wanted to make Ahiru into Mytho. She wanted to make Mytho into Princess Tutu and then kill him. She wanted Ahiru to be the prince of the story.
She didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t know what to think of herself.
She thought about Ahiru dethorning the roses instead. How she must have sat at a table for hours, picking the thorns off the two dozen red roses.
She must have pricked her fingers a hundred times. The blood must have been a crisp red, like an apple, or maybe the roses Rue held in her hands.
Rue thought about kissing Ahiru’s fingers and then wrapping them in bandages, holding the girl so delicately and being a part of the solution for once. She thought about being good.
She thought about Ahiru looking at her like the duck looked at Mytho. She thought about being loved. She thought about Ahiru. She thought about reaching out for Ahiru after a dance and kissing her on her lips, sugary sweet and soft.
Then she realized what she had been thinking of and started crying again, crushing the roses in her grip.
That was not the way the story went. Ahiru would die. Rue would get Mytho instead.
It just made her cry harder. The petals fell apart in her hands, the faint natural dye staining her hands red.
She thought about Ahiru again. Then she thought about Mytho. Then she thought about Fakir.
She hated Fakir. How dare he treat Ahiru the way he does? How dare he look at her like she means everything and then speak to her so cruelly? How dare he collect her in his arms and carry her to safety and… and…
How dare he love Ahiru? Rue loved Ahiru. In fact, how dare Mytho only love Princess Tutu? How dare he not love the redhead for everything she was?
Rue hated everyone. She hated herself. She hated Fakir. She hated Mytho. She wanted to kill them. She wanted to break out of the story and hold Ahiru close to her heart.
She wanted Ahiru to look at her the way she looked at Mytho. She wanted to shatter Ahiru’s heart and make her love Rue .
Rue was still laying on the floor. Rue was still crying. Rue was more alone than she had ever been in her life.
Rue didn’t even love the love of her life anymore.
She shot up suddenly, eyes bloodshot and puffy, cheeks red with tear tracks caked on.
This was all Ahiru’s fault.
How could Rue have been so blind? Of course it was all her fault. She had used tricks and lies and flowers and clever words to worm her way into Rue’s head and distract her from her goal.
Rue stood up, shattered porcelain, water, and crushed roses surrounding her. She clenched a handful of rose petals in her fist.
Ahiru needed to go. And she was going to be the one to end her.