PROMPT BY: Onemyoui

An AU in which the members of Twice are essentially birds. Chaeyoung is a duck. Mina is a swan. (Yeah, I dunno, ask Una about this . . . Check out her take on the au here!)

The Duck and the Swan

Chaeyoung always liked watching Mina from the banks of the lake; she would sit back on her heels and hum quietly to herself, completely enamored as Mina danced and danced and danced.

It was a fine summer day, that day: a rich baby blue saturated the open skies as sunlight broke through the trees, dappling the clear, jeweled water. Cicadas buzzed like they were sharing hundreds of secrets with each other in a harsh whisper, though no matter how carefully one might listen, you could never decipher what exactly they were saying. Every once in a while, a soft breeze would come and caress Chaeyoung’s cheek as if her own mother was her face. On the lakeshore, Mina was also enjoying the nice weather.

With her gaze unrelenting, Chaeyoung traced Mina’s steps with considerable concentration. There was no music, but she hummed a melody she once heard long ago to accompany Mina’s movements. The counts were easy to follow. One, two. Mina began in first position. Three, four. Slowly, she stretched out her body, her back leg raised and extended seamlessly in a perfect arabesque; her curves of her beautiful contour made Chaeyoung inhale sharply. Five, six. Mina picked up the pace, moving closer and closer to the water: from sauté to glissade to piqué to pirouette, the newfound speed sharpened the clarity of Mina’s grace, bringing a rush to the silent crescendo. Seven, eight. At last, the . Mina leapt into the air, the water jumping with her, as she opened her body up to the heavens - eyes closed, head thrown back - vulnerable as a newborn to the daunting world. Drops of water cascaded from her wings, refracting the sun like small tiny diamonds. Chaeyoung watched; the hum died long ago in and her heart wholly entranced.

“Hey, Chaeng, what are you doing?” Dahyun interrupted, startling Chaeyoung out of her thoughts. She and Tzuyu waddled up to their friend, pushing past the tall grass and reeds. Chaeyoung didn’t say anything, only sparing a brief glance at the new arrivals before returning to Mina. Dahyun glanced at the shore. “Oh. Mina, again?”

“How great it must be to be like a swan!” Chaeyoung cried out like she had been bottling it up all this time (she had). “I wish I could be like her.”

“I thought you wanted to be like Jeongyeon,” said Tzuyu, settling down next to Chaeyoung.

“I do, but every time I watch Mina there’s just something about her . . .” Chaeyoung’s voice trailed off into a sigh. How could words even describe it? Was it Mina’s elegance and pose? Was it her fluid dexterity? Was her impeccable dance skills? Or was it the freedom that came with prancing on the lakeshore in the summer? Chaeyoung didn’t know, but whatever it was, she wanted it.

“Ooooh, wait. Chaeng, look who’s coming over here,” teased Dahyun.

As if Mina had heard the three talking about her, the dancer walked up to them, shaking off the water from her body. She tilted her head curiously at her visitors. “What are you all doing here?” she asked.

Chaeyoung shied away at the thought of telling the truth. How embarrassing it would be to say she had been staring at Mina the entire afternoon!

Dahyun, however, was not at a loss of words and swooped into save her friend from humiliation. “Chaeyoung was totally not spying on you, Mina!”

Chaeyoung gawked; she nudged her friend violently. What the heck?

Mina blinked, confused. “Pardon?”

“What Dahyun means is that Chaeyoung was watching you,” Tzuyu jumped in, “but not in a creepy way. She was admiring your dancing.”

Great. Her friends were so helpful. Chaeyoung wanted to bury herself in the ground and never come out. She could feel Mina’s dark eyes turn towards her, inquisitive and perplexed.

“Is this true?” Mina’s voice was gentle; she didn’t sound annoyed or angry.

“Er . . .” Chaeyoung raised her head to meet Mina’s warm gaze, only kindness and patience were written on her face. Suddenly, Chaeyoung didn’t feel so bashful. “Yes,” she replied. “I really like how you dance, it’s very beautiful.”

Mina smiled – perhaps this time, it was she who was shy. “Thank you.”

“Speaking of dancing, Chaeng wants to learn how to dance,” said Dahyun. She gave a sly look over to her friend. “She wants to be like a swan.”

“Yeah!” Tzuyu added. “It’s Chaeyoung’s dream” – she emphasized the word with a smug grin – “do you think you could teach her, Mina? How to dance? How to be a swan?”

Chaeyoung, once again mortified by her friends’ antics, quickly opened to tell Mina that she didn’t have to and that she could forget the suggestion at all, but then Mina surprised her.

“Okay.”

“What?”

Mina’s smile widened. “I can teach you how to dance, Chaeyoung. Why don’t we meet here tomorrow and we can get started?”

Dahyun and Tzuyu immediately agreed for Chaeyoung, with rushed nods and eager affirmations; Chaeyoung, on the other hand, was dazed at the turn of events, but her heart couldn’t stop pounding against her chest in excitement. Finally, she would learn to be a swan.

***

The following day, unlike before, was filled with rain. Clouds had strolled in earlier that morning bringing dark gray showers around noon time. Most had taken shelter, trying to keep dry, but Chaeyoung and Mina agreed that their lessons could continue despite the weather. It wasn’t storming. Raindrops rippled across the lake water to a steady beat as if Mother Nature was giving the two dancers new music to sway in.

“First, we’ll start with the basic positions,” Mina instructed. She showed Chaeyoung the foot placement of each position, carefully guiding Chaeyoung into the correct posture. It was uncomfortable at first: Chaeyoung wobbled and lost her balance several times much to her dismay. But Mina never laughed or scolded her; she would gently touch Chaeyoung as gesture of encouragement, the silent you’re doing well, which surged a new wave of confidence within Chaeyoung to give it her best.

After the positions, they covered turns and bends; they practiced glides and leaps; they even touched upon stretching the legs as high up as it would go in all possible directions (Chaeyoung struggled with this one immensely, but kept trying with Mina’s help). They spent day after day dancing together in the summer heat. After a lesson, Chaeyoung would rush back to her home and show off her new skill to Jeongyeon and Nayeon. They ooh-ed and ahh-ed in awe, beaming as Chaeyoung excitedly gushed about what Mina planned to teach her next. Even Dahyun and Tzuyu were quite impressed with their friend’s rapid growth. They kept asking Chaeyoung about each step she learned and once in a while asked if she could teach them.

Chaeyoung loved her time with Mina. She would rise early in the morning, anticipating the day’s lesson, and practiced in the time leading up to her meeting with Mina. She worked hard and she was improving greatly, but something still bothered Chaeyoung. She slumped down in the grass as Mina finished demonstrating a saut de chat.

“What’s wrong?” Mina asked, noticing her pupil’s gloomy expression.

“We’ve been doing this for weeks yet I feel like I’m still not good,” whined Chaeyoung.

“Your technique is quite good and you’ve progressed very fast for a beginner,” stated Mina, “but dancing takes years and years to master. You have a lot of time left to polish your skills.”

Chaeyoung shook her head. “That is not it. I feel as if something is missing. When I watch you dance, you dance with a certain refinement that I cannot seem to grasp. I bumble about like the runt I am, flailing my wings around as if I’m stumbling through the dark.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue as if she had not tried them before – the callous truth she did not want to acknowledge. “How could I have ever dreamed of being a swan? I am nothing but a meager duckling.”

Mina didn’t say anything – was it because she agreed? Or maybe she didn’t know how to respond? Chaeyoung hoped it was the latter. Instead, Mina just sat next to Chaeyoung, watching as the lazy lake waves lapped against the shore.

Finally she spoke: “Winter is coming, Chaeyoung, and you are to depart with your family soon whereas I am staying here. During those months you are away, I want you to practice and practice and practice as much as you can, and when you return with spring, I want you to show me the swan you’ve become. Can you promise me that, Chaeyoung? Will you promise me that?”

Chaeyoung understood what Mina was asking of her: it was not necessarily a simple request for her to keep up with her dance routine, it was a wish that Chaeyoung would not give up on her dream. Easier said than done. But Chaeyoung did not want to disappoint Mina and so she agreed, even if doubt was eating her from the inside.

***

As the temperatures grew colder, Chaeyoung and her family prepared for their journey south to the warmer areas. Dahyun and Tzuyu and their families were also joining. Everyone gathered at the edge of the marsh, preparing to leave; the chatter was loud and a bit boisterous – the adults shouting at the young ones to fall in line or else they’d be left behind – Chaeyoung stayed close to Jeongyeon, frightened that she would be abandoned to the ruthless grip of winter. Jeongyeon whispered to Chaeyoung it would be okay and that she should not worry, her voice sweet and comforting that reminded Chaeyoung of what her mother once sounded like. She closed her eyes briefly, imagining what it would be like if her mother was still here.

“Chaeng, you’ll be here,” said Jeongyeon as she ushered Chaeyoung to her spot in line. “Just watch Nayeon ahead of you. You can do this.”

Chaeyoung gulped nervously. Could she do this? It was her first time travelling to a place she’s only heard of in tales. In fact, it was her first time travelling for a long period and such a long distance in general! Her shifted nervously on her feet. Would a swan feel this way? Would Mina? Chaeyoung wasn’t sure why Mina had drifted into her mind, but the sudden thought of the swan soothed her. She held her head towards the sky: the horizon holding only new adventures beyond it, the sunrays kissing her in a poignant farewell, and the crisp autumn wind fading to soon become only a memory. Then a blur of white darted across Chaeyoung’s line of sight. Although she could not be sure that it was Mina, Chaeyoung’s heart skipped a beat, the promise she made earlier ringing in her ears. She wondered: When she returned with spring, would she finally be a swan?

***

Spring came rather quickly. The snow melted with the sun’s blessing as everything began to thaw and awaken from its long, needed nap. Flowers budded in bursts of green and premature reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks; trees were brought back to life with open arms ready to embrace the oncoming days ahead; rivers and lakes also teemed with old and new inhabitants, the lively babble humming through the air.

With the new year came a new Chaeyoung. She had grown from her runt stage to a more confident self; it wasn’t that she talked differently or that she behaved differently – but she carried herself no longer like she was yearning for something out of her reach. She had kept her promise to Mina, practicing her dance every single day during the winter, ready to show her teacher that she had indeed come back a swan.

The second Chaeyoung returned to her home, she flew down through the brush with impatience. Mina! She had to see Mina! She reached the lakeshore, short of breath, and called for the swan. Mina! Mina! Where are you? I am back!

There was no response.

Chaeyoung waited all afternoon and into the evening for Mina to come, but she did not show. Chaeyoung tried again the next day, and then the next, and then the next. She tried for weeks hoping that Mina would join her at the lakeshore so they could dance together once again. But the swan was absent.

As summer started to roll in, Chaeyoung grew worried. She wondered if something awful had happened to Mina: had a predator catch her? Did one of those two-legged creatures get her? Chaeyoung did not want to entertain such ugly thoughts, but they sat in the back of her head, haunting her, telling her that the truth may not be one she wants to know.

In the time she waited for Mina, Chaeyoung still danced. She danced at home, she danced at the lake, she danced wherever she could. It had become a part of her, an essence of her very being. Without dancing, who was she?

Then the day when Mina reappeared came. She emerged out of the brush in all of her elegance and glory. Chaeyoung stopped her movement to watch in pure awe as a deity herself stepped before her.

“Mina,” she breathed, stunned. “You’re here.”

“And you are back,” Mina said, smiling. “It has been a long time, Chaeyoung.”

Chaeyoung tumbled through conflicting feelings at Mina’s surprise entrance. Was she angry that it took this long for them to meet again? Was she elated? Why hadn’t Mina met her beforehand? What happened? But perhaps the biggest feeling was that of relief – Mina was okay, Mina was here.

“I have become a swan,” said Chaeyoung after several seconds of silence. “I have kept my promise to you.” She motioned for Mina to watch her dance, but the swan shook her head.

“I have seen you dance, Chaeyoung; I have watched you from afar ever since you returned in the spring,” Mina revealed. Chaeyoung was taken aback. She imagined that as she pranced alongside the lake currents, Mina was hidden in the undergrowth, observing her with sharp keen eyes as Chaeyoung had once done with the swan. Oh, how the rock has turned over!

“And?” Chaeyoung squeaked. Suddenly her confidence began to drain from her veins as Mina kept mum for what felt like an eternity.

“You are, Chaeyoung,” stated Mina, simply, “not a swan.” Chaeyoung fell to her in devastation. She had failed. She had failed to keep her promise, failed Mina, and she had failed herself. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out where she went wrong. Chaeyoung had practiced every single day – from morning until night – why could she not have not become a swan?

“It is because you are a duck,” Mina’s voice answered Chaeyoung’s unspoken question.

“Huh?”

“You are Chaeyoung the duck, not Chaeyoung the swan.” Mina paused. The sound of the lake waves rocking back and forth carried through the air. “Why do you want to be a swan so badly?”

Chaeyoung explained to her the magic she saw in Mina when the swan dancing: the rhythmic fluidity that electrified her body as she jumped and spun like she had become the tender wind. She explained the freedom and poise that held the swan upright and how she longed to taste even just a drop of it. She explained that to be a swan meant to be the pinnacle of beauty.

Mina listened to Chaeyoung’s words. At last she told the duck, “Dance, Chaeyoung. Dance how you feel.”

Chaeyoung hesitated, but then she slowly took one step, and then another. Initially, she began with the moves Mina had taught her – the skills that she had polished over the last several months – but then she found herself parting from it all. An innate song took over her body: it was wild and erratic at times, and at others, it was calm and almost still. It was never stiff or unnatural. Everything came from within. Chaeyoung just danced and danced and danced.

When she finished her performance, a silent understanding passed between Chaeyoung and Mina.

Chaeyoung took a moment to catch her breath and then asked, “May I ask you a question, Mina?” The swan beckoned her to do so. “Why did you tell me to become a swan over the winter?”

Mina erupted into laughter, a high tingling chime that reminded Chaeyoung of a soft whistling breeze “I thought you would come to realize the obvious during that time!”

Oh. Chaeyoung ducked her head in embarrassment. Now that she thought about it, of course it was obvious she was not - and never would be - a swan! How silly Mina must thought of her! But then she too roared at the hilarity of it all. Her head had been so far in the clouds she did not recognize the ground she stood on! She was a duck and would always be a duck. Chaeyoung gave a hearty guffaw.

“Well, I am happy being a duck,” said Chaeyoung as the laughter died down. It may have taken her an entire year to learn such a lesson, but perhaps it was for the better. “A dancing duck that is!”

Mina smiled. “And I am happy that you are a duck too.”

Chaeyoung stretched out her wing, her brown tinged feathers glowing bronze in the dimming sunlight. “Dance with me, Mina.”

And so the two danced and danced and danced until the stars speckled the night sky above.