Archive of Our Own

Hands on the ground, a filthy place that even his feet barely touched, the fairy searched for the pieces that had scattered. The box was in tact, the crank still in the correct place and barely askew, but the porcelain dancer that lived inside had completely crumbled. The mirror he danced in front of was a spider web of mistakes and of rage that did not entirely belong to him - the fairy’s wings curled behind him and his hands covered his face to hide from it, a cloak of sorrow as he slowly came to terms with what he had done.

One hand, once outstretched as if reaching for his master, was beneath the chair the fairy had perched himself in to work. One leg was under the table. His face was in multiple pieces scattered in the cracks of the wooden floor.

Tears stained the fairy’s face, glowing when they fell to the ground and then disappeared into the floorboards. His wand had been abandoned on the workbench - he could have easily animated the pieces to reform themselves but found it impossible to pull himself away from the remnants of his destruction. Long had his fall been coming, and his broken heart had been slowly cracking just as the mirror that showed him a thousand angles of the face he wanted to hide from.

Shu’s hands were shaky as he wound the music box, still on his knees on the ground. It started to play, weakly, as if pained - but only scattered notes that whispered of the song it used to sing. Shu watched as the spring the dancer used to perch upon spun without him, incomplete, yearning for a chance to be mended.

Gathering the pieces that he could see, Shu placed them inside the box and prayed he’d found them all. He whispered an apology to the piece of history that he’d defiled, as though he could ever be forgiven for the lack of control and his instability. Perhaps that was why he was alone, possibly cursed to watch as his beautiful creations and his unique spells bound happily ever afters to godchild after godchild, but never to him.

He knew love inside and out, but was unable to extend his magic to himself thanks to the bindings of his own making. And they stared back at him in a kaleidoscope of reality that he would have never allowed himself - it was warped, ugly. The wings shrouded him further, and he was unable to look himself in the eye even in the reflection any longer.

His happy ending would never come if he remained trapped in his selfish design forever, and perhaps it was time to extend his heart beyond the usual pretentious complexities that his magic allowed him to have.

The pieces had been picked up by hand, one by one, aided by the watchful eye of a perfectionist and cradled gently by meticulous and calculated fingers. When he was certain not a single shard was missing, the fairy rose. He planted himself firmly on the ground beneath him, binding himself into his task and committing to the poor dancer he’d destroyed.

He took his wand into his hand, waving it once to the music box at least to cure the sadness in the song. But nothing happened, just like always

“Would it be cruel to force you to perform while you’re broken?” He asked aloud to the pieces on his workbench. “Ah, I suppose there is no reason to dance now, so why would you play? Do not worry, I will give you one.”

Aided not by magic and enchantments, but by glue and tweezers, by time and by eyes that never once looked away, the boy inside the box was mended. The pieces of his legs were formed together, with his back arched and his arms outstretched as though he was reaching for him. How silly it was to ponder such a thought; the fairy smiled as he looked into the face he’d never inspected so thoroughly.

The dancer’s eyes were closed. Like he never even saw the world outside, like he was dancing solemnly to a song that did not want him to see past it. Shu had a thought to paint his eyes, but he’d already spent enough time putting him back together. A light blue would work splendidly with the colors of his dress.

Once he was finally lowered back onto the spring that cradled him, the dancer’s oddly contorted frame twisted just the same as he had before, he danced again for his master. He spun, guided less by magic and more by love than he ever had. There was something in the air that felt stronger than before, like static that prickled and stuck to his clothing.

Shu peered down at him, listening to the music that he had not started. As though it was thanking him for finally allowing him the attention he craved, for touching him and caring for him in ways that had never happened before.

The dancer had always been there, as if finding his way there on his own. But that was ridiculous, of course - he would have never been able to find the fairy without the aid of open eyes.

“Tomorrow, perhaps I will finally let you see,” Shu announced despite the trinket being only that and nothing more. And he retired for the evening, making sure to shut the box to quell the song and wrapped himself in his cloak of wings and yearning.

The box now closed, the clasp firmly locked so that he could not escape, Mika rose on both arms with his over-extended joints. He blinked back layers of porcelain, his eyes picking up on nothing in the dark cavern of his box. He couldn’t see, he could hear nothing in the confines of his prison lined in velvet. But the visage that burned in his now-open eyes like a phantom beyond the veil made his heavy alabaster heart beat for the first time.

Then he stood, in the dark, alone and silent.

His fingers had long been fused together, however as he pressed them to the bottom of the box he could feel the smooth warmth of his keep’s walls. They spread and explored, raised and pressed up against the cracked mirror.

Mika had never once wanted to dance more, to sing louder - he had finally been given the movement he longed for. Finally his attempts to reach out to his master had been listened to, even if he had been hurt in the process. Shattering had been painful, and he thought that certainly he would never dance again; but with each dab of paste and every puzzle piece that had been mended, he could feel the love and the magic that buzzed inside. His heart had become a conduit, and finally he may be able to dance the way the fairy always dreamed that he would.

Mika had finally found the perfect melody to play for him.

He cracked and stretched, but the love that had mended him was nowhere to be found in the darkness. With the clasp so tight, there was no way his tiny body could squeeze and shape itself out of the cracks. Mika would have to stay bound inside until his savior rescued him once again.

———

“Strange,” The fairy pondered aloud as he watched the dancer the next morning, tenting his fingers underneath his chin in thought. “I thought I’d left your eyes for today.”

Mika looked up at his master with blue eyes that had only ever known sorrow until that day, unblinking as though he could not risk a single millisecond of darkness lest his eyes stay closed forever. He did not want to look away, even as he spun, but kept himself steady and stiff in the fear of both being perceived by someone so heavenly and of being cast away for being now even more broken than he was before. He was an object to look at, a trinket to hold - autonomy would take away any wonder that the fairy may have had.

He might have been convinced that he’d done extra tinkering in his state. Shu left the dancer as he was without so much as another glance as he pushed it to the side and cleared the workbench off again.

“Now that I have you to listen, I suppose I will not be as lonely when I’m doing something so trivial.”

Mika’s ears perked as he heard, and he smiled despite himself. Yes, he would like very much to keep him company. Nothing seemed trivial in his freshly-opened eyes, painted in a similar blue that bathed his yearning heart - it all seemed new, exciting, magical. Life itself had slowly crept into his hollow ribcage but love that followed so soon after anger had painted colors that he could feel and could see.

The fairy, aided by a pincushion that floated just above the bench, opalescent thread that looked more like silken moonstone than silk, and a sewing machine that mended gold and magic together, put his very real sweat and tears into a beautiful gown. Mika watched as his careful hands, the very same that had cradled him so gently despite his usual aura of power and vitriol behind the closed doors, took something so mundane as cotton and wove his magic until it became something entirely new.

Mika wasn’t sure of the name of the color, he wasn’t sure of the style, but it was flowing like a gentle cloud and looked gorgeous as if it told its own story of love.

“Another of my children is going to have her happily ever after.” His voice broke the silence that followed the sewing of a button, by hand, not by a flick of his wand. “I suppose I’ve grown jealous in all my years of always watching, but never receiving any magic of my own.”

“Nnh,” Mika started, almost silent, afraid of his own voice. It reverberated painfully within him, just as sorrowful as the melody that he played from inside.

“But that is the burden I must carry. If I am to create everything beautiful, then I must not expect it elsewhere. I’ve always known that.” He let his feet touch the ground, no longer floating above the floorboards. “But it isn’t as though something so broken as you would be able to change anything. How ridiculous I sound.”

Mika reached for him, his fingers stretching as far as his limbs would allow. Of course he’d always been in such a position so it must not have looked like much to the untrained eye. He almost found himself giving up when the fairy leaned in closer and observed him as though he noticed a change.

The dancer stayed in his new fixed position, afraid to move more lest he frighten the magical, ethereal creature that surveyed him so intensely. He had definitely noticed a change, his artistic and trained eye never once missing a detail. His gaze was intense and terrifying, far heavier than it had been before.

“I can try.”

“Perhaps I’ve truly begun to lose my mind. I almost thought I’d heard you speak.” He scoffed, then laughed out loud in faux triumph. “Incredible! Not only have you gained the ability to see, but you’re able to talk. The next thing we know, you’ll be the one who puts me back together. Wouldn’t that be a perfect ending to my story?”

Mika wanted to be bold, to state that it was exactly his intention - but he was small, and he was empty, and there was little he could offer such a powerful and incredible being.

“I should’ve let you stay broken, lest I allow my heart to wander.” Shu retired again, not closing the box as he left.

Mika could have cried watching him leave. But there had to be a way for him to prove his intentions. He knew better by now, after watching him so long, and that he should know that Shu would prioritize his beautiful artwork and his perfectly-crafted scenarios for his godchild over his own wishes.

The gown was beautiful. The godchild who wore it looked ethereal, magical, in a way that was both elegant and mysterious. He took the arm of the dark-haired prince, and they smiled at one another - like life would never be better. The light shone from his eyes and color danced about the room off of the rhinestones. He was a prism of joy, the magic Shu embedded into the fabric lifting him and embracing him in a warm glow that emanated so strongly that Mika felt it in his own hollow chest.

He touched it, hoping to feel something move inside.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched him - the fairy whose wings spread proudly behind him as though he would command the room if the rest of the humans could see. Mika held his breath, in awe of the beauty he possessed. And after several moments of taking in the breathtaking sight, Shu seemed to notice his gaze.

The dancer was out of place, his outfit unfit for such a joyous occasion. But so was the fairy, his dated and medieval outfit clashing with the bright colors and the soft ambiance that the rest of the people chirping and frollicking wore. The two of them were relics, magical items that did not belong. And their gazes met each other, and soon they were brought together as though they had been pushed by a force neither of them understood.

In an instant the fairy seemed to recognize him. Of course he did, Mika knew that there would never be a single thing that he could do that the fairy would not catch. He must have known that Mika had stowed away in his pocket, he must have known that magic placed them on the dance floor together away from the eyes that could not see them.

The fairy placed his hand in Mika’s, cocking his head as he felt the smoothness beneath the fabric of his glove. His brows knitted slightly, but he had lived enough years not to be surprised by every instance of magic.

“Everythin’ ya make is beautiful like that dress,” Mika murmured, afraid of his voice being too loud. Being too soft.

“Of course it is. And for the record, I could’ve made you something much more beautiful and appropriate than this dreary ensemble. ” He chided, but the echo of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You’re lucky they can’t seem to see you. Only I have to deal with this hideous eyesore.”

“M’sorry, but this’s the only dress I got.” He let the fairy take the lead then, growing less and less sure of his skill. He could dance, he could contort and spin forever just like he always had - but never, even in his dreams, would he have imagined the possibility of sharing a dance with another. Their shoes barely touched the ground, and their waltz soon became so whimsical that Mika wasn’t sure they weren’t floating somewhere above.

“How long have you been listening to me prattle on?” Shu asked, almost timidly, still keeping his posture as rigid and proper as though feigning confidence.

He had to think. He couldn’t remember the time before he lived on the fairy’s shelf - maybe some sort of energy had seeped inside of him over the course of his work. Maybe he was just meant to come alive in his presence. “Forever, I think,” he settled on, cocking his head. “Nnh… but I don’t ‘member much.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to retain any information, you were hollow all of those years.” He gripped Mika’s hand a bit more firmly. “How strange for you to have changed now.”

It was perfect, Mika thought; now that he was closer to flesh than ever before the Fairy could fill his empty head with knowledge and maybe even the kind of talent that it took to make something as whimsical as the perfect dress, the perfect atmosphere for love to blossom within. He did remember quite a bit about the fairy, and he would never admit it, but it was best he kept what he did know within him.

He knew that despite his tendency to frown, and to hiss at his projects if anything did not go his way, that he had a romantic heart. That he’d dance with the outfits he crafted, enchanted to swirl in the air with him. To make sure that they flowed as elegantly as they did in his mind, no doubt. But still the longing in his eye and the twinkle of his smile as he believed he was alone had always made Mika want to change his key so that they could be dancing to the same melody.

“All this time n’ ya never got t’live yer own wish.” Mika looked up at him sheepishly. “Maybe… If ya let me, if ya show me how…”

“Do you mean to grant my own?” The fairy asked, his nose upturned, but he didn’t sound as harsh as he’d meant. “You’ll have to do more than simply grow and gain sentience to impress me, you know.”

The godchild, likely the only person in the room other than themselves that could take in the sight of them or hear their conversation, bumped up against Shu as he danced so that he was flush up against Mika’s chest. He flustered, spitting out words that were far less elegant than he, and his wings perked and spread as if to compensate for his inelegance.

Mika’s crooked smile shone, charming and imperfect despite the rest of him being so expertly crafted. Shu looked at his smile, as if to wonder if he’d put pieces together incorrectly.

“M’sorry,” Mika continued to beam at him, and he regained his own footing. “Ain’t never danced with a partner b’fore.”

“No, I should be doing a much better job leading.” He held out his hands to take Mika’s again. “I will see to it that I do not fumble again.”

And he took his hand so gratefully, with such wonder in his eyes and so much adoration that his smile could have rivaled the groom’s. The dancer let the fairy lead again, learning his movements. He broke away for just a moment do spin as he always did, returning to his arms without looking up to see the blush that was growing from the fairy’s cheeks, clear up to the tips of his ears.

Even as the party began to die down and the couples had grown tired, the two of them continued to move together, conversing - or bickering - as though they’d been conversing for all of the years that Mika had lived on his shelf. Just like in the storybooks, the two of them ended up with less and less space between them by the time the music was dying down.

As their lips met, a gentle warmth washed over the two of them. Like electricity but far more tender - love’s first kiss showered a glint of magic that both the fairy and his suitor were too engulfed in each other to see. Everything changed in seconds. As they stood together swaying so slightly with the music that filled the air, above the party, above the

Mika found himself looking into the enigmatic gaze of a creature so much more fantastic than he ever could be. Something about him was so terrifying and so grand. But his gentle touch and the knowledge that he could put him back together so perfectly was enough to make his heart beat for the first time.

And Shu found himself gazing back, thinking of the dreams he must have chased directly in his presence. If only he had allowed himself to break down sooner. He looked into Mika’s eyes - and even someone as studious and thorough as him hadn’t noticed the change that had taken place.

He now had one blue eye, still glassy and inhuman - almost like it was painted by steady and gentle hands. And one of gold, a window into the magic that had brought him to the fairy’s embrace.