“Applejack, you here?”
“Ah's. Yo'’re a bit late today, Sto'm.” She must have been studying, as Applejack looks up from the paper she’s reading.
“Just you, Applejack? Where are the others? Shouldn’t they be here now as well?”
“No. Unfo'tunately, our members is mighty businesslike. They haf their set wawk hours, an' they don’t be hankerin' t'come in early o' stay late.”
“That’s why the student council president is doing the routine duties herself, huh? I guess this place has its own problems.”
“No, it’s th' kind of trouble ah like. Yo' don’t need t'pity me.”
“Huh? Uh, no, I wasn’t pitying you or anything.”
“Hm. I’m not happy about thet eifer, but I’ll pretend ah didn’t hear it. It still means thet yo' care.” Applejack, who organizing the papers she was reading, is the big boss of this student council room. She’s the mare trying her best to reform this lax student council, and she’s been a friend of mine since first year. Her full name is Applejack Buckler. Despite her old-fashioned name, she has elegant features and she’s really popular with the stallions. And she’s also the student council president, so you’d think she’d take to it like a duck to water, but…
“Hm, dawgone it. A hot coffee is sartinly a fine way t'start a mo'nin'.” She’s just sipping coffee like this, so she’s not that firm. As you can see, Applejack has a plain personality. It’s easily misunderstood, but she doesn’t involve herself in love affairs nor engage in normal student recreations. It’s because she’s the successor of the Sweet Apple Acres, up in the mountains. She’s fine with that idea, so there’s a good chance she’ll be getting a cowboy hat when she graduates.
“So, what am I doing today?”
“Hm? Wal, I’d like yo' let yo' set down an' take a ress fust… But ah guess we don’t haf time. I’ll explain as we go, so brin' yer usual tools an' foller me. Frankly, our skoo’s budgit is completely unbalanced.”
“I know. The athletic clubs are favored, so other clubs don’t get much, right?”
“Right. As a result, members of t'other clubs is in trouble. I’m wawkin' hard t'make th' budgit hoof it to them, but I’m havin' trouble on account o' it’s not clear whar th' money’s gwine. In particular, thar’s no solushun fo' th' sho'tages of heaters durin' winter.”
“I see. Oh, can you hand me the torque screwdriver? The biggest one. And the conductive wire too. …Yeah, I should be able to fix this.”
“Conduckive wire? …Uh, is this hyar it? So'ry, ah don’t knows exackly. Tell me eff'n I’m wrong.”
“You’re right. So, what was that about the shortage of heaters? Are there other broken ones?”
“Yessuh. In th' second AV room an' th' art club. Th' petishuns requestin' noo stoves is multiplyin'.”
“But there’s not enough to budget to meet the demand, huh? As I thought, it’s just getting old. Good thing it’s not broken on the inside.”
“Yo' reckon it kin be fixed, Sto'm?”
“Yup. In cases like this, old things are nice because they’re easy to understand. It’s just a shorted connection, so it should last the whole year if we replace that.”
“ah see! Good job, Sto'm. I’m allus so pleased when yo'’re reliable.”
“You’re wording it weirdly, Applejack… Oh, I’ll be finishing soon, so could you wait outside for a bit?”
“All right, I’ll be outcher way.” Applejack leaves the room quietly. …It seems she assumes that I’m going to do something delicate.
“…Well, it is delicate, but…” I place my hoof on the old electric heater. Usually, even if you’re used to fixing things, it’s hard to figure out what’s wrong with it just by looking at it. So the fact that I figured it out means what I’m doing is not ordinary. I block off my vision and look inside the heater with my sense of touch. …In that moment… An image appears in my head.
“…There are two places where the wire’s about to break… The pipe should last a bit longer… Insulation tape should be enough for the power cord…” …Good, I can fix this with the tools I have with me. If the pipe were broken, it couldn’t be fixed by an amateur. If that had been the case, I would have to “strengthen” it in a very unamatuerish way. But in this case, just looking at it will suffice. That is the “magic” Storm Whooves learned from Doctor.
“…All right, let’s begin.” I take the cover off and start to work. I already know where it’s broken, so the rest is easy. “…Man. This is the only thing I’m any good at.” That’s right. Storm Whooves has no talent for magic.
Though it doesn’t make up for it, I think I’m quite skilled at visualizing structures like I did just now. In fact, when I first figured out a structure and reproduced it, my father looked surprised and said “what a useless ability”. I guess my strong point isn’t a useful ability.
According to my father, it’s already a waste of effort to perceive the structure with my eyes. For a real mage, there’s no need to understand every corner of a structure like I just did. They say that the battle of the mage comes in reading the center, the core of things instantaneously, and changing it faster than anything else. That’s why reading the structure is a wasted effort, as even if you do understand the structure, all you can do is determine where magical energy could be more easily transmitted.
So all in all, it turns out that my strong point is just fixing things like this. I don’t have to open them up to look for damage. If I can quickly search for broken parts and have the skills to repair them, most things can be fixed. Though, that’s only the case for simple things that can be fixed with “amateur knowledge”.
“…Done. On to the next one…” I pack away the conducting wire that I used and go out into the hallway with screw driver and wrench in wing. “Applejack, the repairs are done.” …But. In the hallway is somepony else apart from Applejack, a mare.
“……” I’m a bit surprised. The pony talking to Applejack is Rarity Jewel, from class 2-A. She’s a mare who lives in a big mansion on top of the hill, a perfect honor student. Good looking, smart, athletic, and faultless. She’s intelligent, well mannered, and modest about her looks. Ponies say she’s the ideal mare. So it hardly needs to be said that the stallions at my school treat her like an idol. Though in Rarity’s case, she’s so perfect that she’s considered unreachable. It’s commonly believed that only teachers and mares like Applejack can even talk to her. To be honest, I’m one of Rarity Jewel’s admirers.
“……” Rarity looks at us as if she’s in a bad mood. It seems to be true that she and Applejack don’t get along.
“Ah, so'ry Sto'me. I’m th' one who axed fo' he'p, but it seems like yo'’re doin' all th' wawk. Fo'gimme.” Wow. Applejack’s an amazing mare, talking like that and ignoring Rarity.
“Don’t worry about it. So, where next? There’s not much time left.”
“Yeah, th' AV room is next. It seems it’s been wawkin' badly fo' a spell, but now it finally died.”
“It can’t be fixed if it’s dead. It would be quicker to just buy a new one.”
“…True, but it’d he'p eff'n yo' c'd take a look at it. It might be daid t'mah eyes, but only fakin' it t'yourn.”
“I see. Well, let’s take a look.” There’s only about 30 minutes left until homeroom. I’ll have to hurry if I’m going to fix it. I start for the AV room with Applejack. But it’s impolite to ignore her completely when we’ve met like this. I turn back to Rarity, who’s standing in a daze. “You’re up early, Rarity.” I make an honest comment, then follow Applejack.
“We barely made it. Thank yo', Sto'm. Ah cuzd yo' trouble agin. Ah w'd be a failure as a friend eff'n ah made yo' late doin' thin's fo' me.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal for me to be late. Though I guess it would be for you to be…”
“Indeed. Wal, I’m glad we made it.” Applejack heads to her seat, relieved. It’s exactly eight o’clock. The first homeroom bell has rung, so Pinkie Pie should be here in about five minutes.
“…Phew.” I’m a bit out of breath since we ran here from the AV room. Taking a deep breath, I head to my seat.
“You’re so noisy in the mornings, Storm. I was wondering what you’d been doing since quitting the club, but all you’ve been doing is helping out Applejack? It’s not my concern, but don’t do anything to bring the club into disrepute, okay? You’re pretty uncommitted after all.” Trixie Belle, a friend of mine from middle school, is standing in front of my seat. As you can tell from her last name, she’s Sweetie’s sister who’s a year older than her.
“Yo. Is the archery club doing well, Trixie?”
“O-Of course…! There’s no point in telling an outsider, but it’s been peaceful since a certain attention-hog left. We’ll do well in the next competition!”
“I see. Lyra must be working hard.”
“Huh? You’re talking rubbish. The archery club is doing well because of me. You’re just an outsider, Storm, so you’ll just embarrass yourself if you talk like you know about it.”
“I see, I’ll be careful. But I won’t have any concerns with the archery club since I don’t have any business there.” I put my bag on the desk and pull out the chair.
“What’s that about? You’re saying you’re not interested in my archery club?”
“I said business, not interest. It’d be weird to go there when I’m and outsider, right? But tell me if something comes up. I’ll help if there’s anything I can help with. You weren’t good at fixing the bows and bowstrings, right?”
“Oh, thanks. I’ll call you if there’s any work to be done. Though I don’t think that’ll happen.”
“Yeah, that’s good. You’re not captain material if you leave work that needs to be done. Don’t give Pinkie Pie too much trouble. She’s scary when you piss her off.”
“…! Huh, mind your own business. You’re an outsider, so keep away from the gym!” Trixie returns to her seat in her usual manner. …Hm, she seemed even more irritated than usual today.
“Whut a mare. How kin she talk like thet when she’s th' one who drove yo' out?”
“Oh, you were here, Applejack?”
“Whut does yo' mean!? Yo'’re so cold, sayin' thet t'a friend who was lissenin' in outta corncern!”
“Hm? Why would you do that? I’m not doing anything that should make you worry about me.”
“Idiot. Of course I’ll wo'ry about yo'. Yo'’re th' so't t'lose yer temper easily. Some ponies'd cheer eff'n yo' beat Trixie up, but all th' stallions'd corndemn yo'. It’s not fine t'let a friend git into a situashun like thet.”
“I see. You’re right now that you mention it. Thanks, Applejack. I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but I’m grateful for your concern.”
“Yessuh, fine, as long as yo' unnerstan'… but it’s peekoolyar. Yo' lose yer temper easily, but yo'’re tolerant of Trixie.”
“Yeah, that’s just her style. You get used to it if you hang around her for a long time.”
“Hm, ah see.”
“Yeah. If you understand, go back to your seat. Pinkie Pie will fly in here any second now.”
“Haha. It’s mo'e like her t'come floatin' in than flyin' in.” The homeroom bell rings. A homeroom teacher usually would come five minutes early, but our homeroom teacher isn’t like that. For class 2-C, homeroom starts one minute after the bell rings.
Right when we hear… “I’m late, I’m late, I’m late…!” And Pinkie Pie runs into the classroom.
“All right, I made it! Good morning, everyp…” Wham! Pinkie Pie falls over with a terrible sound.
“……” The classroom is filled with silence, in contrast to the clamor from a second ago. A sudden change of atmosphere. Just as you’d expect from Pinkie Pie. Her nickname of “pony jet coaster” isn’t just for show. …But that really was a bad hit. Pinkie Pie is still on the ground, having hit her head on the platform. You can’t see her expression with her head facing the ground, so it gives you a bad mental image.
“…Hey. Front row. Wake her up.”
“…What? I don’t want to. I’m scared she’ll bite me if I go near her…”
“…She’s not a Mimic or anything. She won’t go that far.”
“Hey, if you’re saying that, why don’t you do it?”
“Uh, I’ll pass. I’m not used to this.”
“Me neither! And why would you make a mare do it? A stallion should do it!” The front row is getting noisy. As we’re in the middle rows, we can’t tell what sort of state Pinkie Pie is in. We can’t tell, so we all stand up to look.
“Hey, she’s not moving. Has she passed out?” Somepony asks. If so, the problem would be how to get her to the nurse’s office. Everypony here is a warrior who has been with Pinkie Pie for the past year. They probably want to get out of the habit of taking their teacher to the nurse’s office.
“Pinkie Pie…? Um, are you all right?” A brave mare student calls out to her. Pinkie Pie doesn’t even twitch. A sense of worry runs through the room.
“…That was a bad fall. She hit her head right on the platform. She’d have to be invincible to come out of that without a scratch.”
“Hm. How about getting her for our baseball club?”
“D-Don’t even joke about that! The day she’s in charge of us, we’d get into the regionals!”
“Pinkie Pie, Pinkie Pie…! It’s no good, there’s no response…!”
“Hey, why don’t you wake her up since you’re in front of her?”
“What!? No way! If she’s really dead, I’ll be killed!”
“But things could get bad later if we leave her like that.”
“But no one wants to go near her.”
“…I guess it can’t be helped. We’ll have to do… that.”
“Yeah, that.” “All right.” All our hearts become one. …Well, not Trixie and I, because we’re too scared.
“One, two… wake up, Tiger!” Even though everypony said it at the same time, it’s only as loud as a whisper. The “Tiger” part is especially quiet. But still… …A twitch. The silent Pinkie Pie reacts.
“Whoa, she moved!? It’s working, everypony!”
“All right! Continue the punishment!” Everypony must be stressed from the impending exams. Even though they shouldn’t, they repeat Pinkie Pie’s nickname while waving their forehoofs.
“Wake up Tiger, it’s morning!”
“Teacher, you’re a tiger if you don’t wake up!”
“Don’t give up, Tiger! Stand up, Tiger!”
“Yeah, wake up, Teacher! Then you’ll be a true Tiger!”
“T-i-g-e-r! T-i-g-e-r!”
“GAHHH!! DON’T CALL ME TIGER…!” A roar of lightning. She stands bravely as if the fall has done nothing at all.
“…Huh? What are you doing? You can’t stand up in middle of homeroom. Come on, sit down and I’ll get started.” Pinkie Pie stands before everypony in her usual manner. …It seems all memories from the moment she entered classroom have fled her head.
“…Hey, it seems Tiger doesn’t remember what happened.”
“…Lucky. We’re really fortunate this morning.”
“…Well, I don’t know if we can call it ‘lucky’…” Everypony returns to their seats, chatting.
“Huh? Did somepony just make fun of me?”
“No, we didn’t. Maybe you imagined it?”
“All right, good. Then I’ll start homeroom, so listen up.” Pinkie Pie starts homeroom slowly. She chats in between the announcements, so we don’t get through it very fast.
“So everypony, please note the curfew. It’s at six o’clock so ponies with club activities shouldn’t stay too late either.”
“What? Six o’clock is too early, Tiger. Can’t the athletic clubs be exempted?”
“Nope. And please address your teacher as ‘Pinkie Pie’. I’ll get mad if you call me that again.”
“All right, I’ll be careful.” He sits down again, not showing any signs of listening to her. …How stupid of him. Pinkie Pie gets made when she says she will. It makes no difference that he’s a student and she’s a teacher. He doesn’t realize that she just gave him a final warning.
“Well, that’s it for today’s homeroom. Let’s meet again in English class in third period, everypony!” Pinkie Pie leaves, waving her forehoof. She’s the teacher responsible for class 2-C, Pinkie Pie. Her nickname is Tiger. You might doubt it, but it really is her nickname. Ponies like calling her so since she has a middle name like “Taiga” even though she’s a mare. But Pinkie Pie herself hates the nickname. According to her, it’s unfeminine. But she’s that kind of pony, so I think it’s her own fault she has an unfeminine nickname.
“We’re starting class. Day monitor, the bows.” The teacher for the first period enters as Pinkie Pie exits. It’s like this every morning, as Pinkie Pie continues homeroom until the very last minute.
The classes end like every other day. There are many kinds of students: ones that go to clubs, ones that hurry home, and the ones that stay in the classroom for no reason. It looks like I won’t be in any of those categories.
“So'ry, Sto'm, about th' ress of th' repairs… does yo' haf time today?”
“Well, I do have plans, but…” It’s not like I’m just playing around. After all, the main reason I quit the archery club is because I wanted to prioritize work. It’s already been five years since Father died, and I decided to start working to pay my living expenses. If you work a lot, there are some jobs you just can’t refuse. Today’s an example. They’re restocking inventory at work, and they asked me to come if I can as any help is appreciated. But it’s certainly not something I have to go to. They’re probably just having ponies come in because they want to party after work.
“……” There are two options. I…
I'll go and help out the student council
I'll go to work