Sunset entered the kitchen with a yawn. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she saw Wallflower at the table, deep into last-minute homework. “Good morning,” she mumbled.
“Morning,” Wallflower said. She pointed to the counter. “I made coffee.”
“I love you,” Sunset said as she grabbed a mug, “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Been feeling eggs this morning.”
Sunset opened the fridge. “Any particular way?”
“However you want to prepare them. I think we have some potatoes left from the other night.”
Sunset hummed as she rummaged through the refrigerator. “Potatoes, check. And we also have some mushrooms... Yeah, think I can do something.” She took an armful of ingredients and set up shop at the stove. “You been up long?”
“About an hour," Wallflower stretched, "Tried not to wake you, not that it was needed. You were dead to the world.”
“Huh,” Sunset chuckled, “maybe a bit of a good night's sleep was all I needed. So, any plans for tomorrow?”
“Study.”
“All day?”
“Yep.”
“Sunday, too?”
“I have exams Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. I'll probably crash and sleep Thursday and Friday. We can plan something for next Saturday.”
“Okay,” Sunset acquiesced, “I'm gonna hold ya to that.” She whisked the eggs, keeping a mindful eye on a sauteing skillet. “Are you going to want toast?”
“Only if you want some.”
Sunset checked the breadbox. “All we've got is three slices of rye.” She pulled out a slice and tapped it on the counter. “Think it's gone stale.”
“Was that the bread from the farmer's market?”
“Yeah,” Sunset threw the bread into the trash, “It doesn't keep very long. I see you took the trash out.”
“Yeah... noticed it was looking a little full. Shame about the bread. It is good.”
Sunset poured the egg mixture into a hot frying pan. “Yeah. Need to remember to add a half-loaf to our shopping list.”
“I think we're also low on butter.”
“How did you like that herb butter?”
“It was okay. Preferred the one with garlic.”
Sunset hummed as she added the filling to her omelet. “Yeah, that one's good, too. Just a bit too strong for me.” She sprinkled a handful of shredded mozzarella over the whole dish and folded it. She set on a lid to let it steam. “Were you wanting some orange juice?”
“No, I'll stick with coffee. When did we get the carrot juice?”
“Tuesday? Why?”
“Just wondering. I mistook it for orange juice the other day.”
“Oh...” Sunset giggled, “Oops...” She lifted the lid of the frying pan and peered in. The cheese looked perfectly melted. Removing the pan from the heat, Sunset cut the omelet in half before plating. As she brought it to the table, Wallflower was just packing up.
“Smells good,” she smiled.
Sunset checked the time. “We better hurry, if we're gonna beat the traffic.”
Wallflower concurred, her mouth full of omelet. “Will you be able to pick me up?”
“I think so. I'll text you if anything changes.”
---
She stood in the kitchen, knife in one hand, tuna in the other. Each precision stroke separated the flesh into smaller and smaller pieces. She organized the cuts into piles before moving onto the next tuna loin.
She studied herself with anxious anticipation.
Would those urges come back? Or had last night satiated her curiosity?
She paused for a moment to examine her knife. The long, sleek yanagi blade seemed normal. No strange thoughts floated through her mind.
And yet...
“Everything okay, Sunset?”
Sunset jumped slightly, pulled from her thoughts. “Uh, yes,” she smiled, composing herself.
“Then, let's keep moving, shall we?”
“Right!” Sunset thumbed up as her supervisor walked away. She felt like such an anime nerd. Not that her environment didn't have anything to do with it.
As line cook in a heavily-themed Asian fusion restaurant, one couldn't help but feel like they were in an anime. The uniforms were of no help either.
Sunset broke down the last of the tuna loins and cleaned her station. Taking stock of the current situation of things, she set off to prepare for her next tasks. Leaving the walk-in, she nearly walked into another co-worker.
“You seem a bit off today,” he said, helping Sunset steady herself, “I mean more than usual. Having girlfriend problems?”
Sunset shrugged, “Not really. She has finals next week. She's just a bit stressed.”
“Ah...”
“Ah?” Sunset frowned, “What 'ah'?”
“If Wallflower is sending out some serious stress vibes, then an empath like you would easily pick up on it.” He pointed to the geode hanging around Sunset's neck. “Don't worry,” he winked, “your secret's safe with me.”
“I don't think it's really much of a secret at this point... Besides, the magic doesn't work that way.”
“Are you sure?”
Sunset frowned, “Remind me again who is a magical unicorn from another dimension?”
“But you, yourself, admitted that the magic works differently here. All I'm saying is—”
“Enough, Wasabi,” Sunset snapped, “I'm just worried for Wallflower, that's all. Now, is the rice ready?”
“Yes. I was just about to get started on chopping vegetables.”
He darted into the walk-in, leaving Sunset alone with her thoughts.
---
Sunset leaned back against the apartment door, exhausted. But, there wasn't much time to rest.
She checked the time. Just enough for a quick shower and, maybe, get dinner started. She could get everything chopped before she had to go pick up Wallflower.
Her game plan in place, Sunset began stripping off her work uniform, throwing it into the washing machine as she passed. She'd have to also have to remember to start the laundry before she left.
---
Sunset stepped out of the shower and checked her phone.
Still on time.
She wrapped a towel around herself and moved to the bedroom. Grabbing a clean shirt and jeans, she quickly dressed.
No time to dry her hair, she did her best to towel dry.
She checked the time again. Still doing good. Maybe not enough time to do any actual cooking, but at least, do some staging.
She set out a cutting board and laid the chef's knife next to it. Next, a bowl for mixing.
Sunset pulled the leftover green bean casserole from the fridge and set it on the counter. They had eaten most the garden salad the night before and Wallflower had taken what little was left for her lunch.
Sunset dug out some cucumbers and tomatoes from the crisper. They would make for a quick, refreshing salad.
By now, it was time to go. Sunset hastily threw on socks and boots, only running into the bedroom to grab her jacket.
On the way out, she passed the phone. Why she paid attention to it, she never fully knew. It had been a stipulation by Wallflower's grandmother when she offered to cover the rent. Neither girl was willing to explain to the old lady that, in the unlikely event cell service was down, they could use their phones over the WiFi. And, if the WiFi was down, then most likely the phone lines were, too, and well, then, they were all screwed.
As a result, neither Sunset or Wallflower ever used the landline and had grown to detest it as it seemed to only attract telemarketers and robo-callers.
Still, Sunset stopped to see who was the missed call.
In a rare instance, it was a number she recognized. No time to listen to the message, she replaced the phone on the base and ran out the door.
---
Sunset sat in the car parked outside the biology building.
“Was it really possible?” she wondered, “Could I really be subconsciously picking up Wallflower's feelings?” She began to recount her day. Never once had her urges surfaced.
Maybe she was picking them up from someone else.
Maybe they were her own, but she was just too busy to notice.
She growled in frustration. “You're impossible!”
“Who is?”
Sunset jumped. She'd been so busy in her own mind, she hadn't realized Wallflower had entered the car.
“N-nothing,” she stammered, starting the car, “You have a good day?”
Wallflower shrugged, “I suppose. We're really getting down to crunch-time. Some of us are meeting at the library tomorrow to study.”
“Don't worry about it,” Sunset smiled, “You'll do fine. You're great with plants.”
“It's not the plants I'm worried about. It's all the other stuff. All this Latin is infuriating!” She huffed. “What?”
“What 'what'?”
“That look on your face.”
“What look?”
“That look! The one you make just before you're about to say something about your life in Equestria.”
Sunset frowned, “I make a face?”
“Just spit it out.”
“Well,” Sunset said, “when I was Princess Celestia's student—”
“Here we go,” Wallflower smirked, crossing her arms.
Sunset shot her a glare. “When I was Princess Celestia's student, I had to learn the names and pronunciations of many spells. Not just to know what they were, but also to perform them.”
“So, what you're saying is—?”
“Let me help you. I'd developed various tricks, I'm sure they'll also work for you. C'mon, wouldn't be the first time I've helped you study for a big test.”
“Well," Wallflower hmm'd and haw'ed, "I suppose you could... How's your Latin?”
“That depends. Is it anything like Old Ponish?”
---
She stood in the kitchen, knife in one hand, tomato in the other. Her hands moved with expert precision as she sliced and diced each fruit.
Behind her, the clinking and clanking of dishes as they were being placed on the table.
Sunset bit her lip. She'd been wanting to tell Wallflower about the phone call, but wasn't quite sure how to bring it up. She knew Wallflower already had enough on her plate, she didn't need any more.
“Your mother called.” Sunset wanted to cover her mouth. She hadn't meant to blurt it out.
“What?”
“She called,” Sunset said softly, “On the house phone.”
“What did she want?”
Sunset wasn't too sure about Wallflower's tone of voice. “I don't know. I didn't have time to hear the message. I only noticed it while on my way to get you.”
Her attention remained on her work, but from the corner of her eye, she saw Wallflower move toward the cordless phone. She watched as Wallflower pressed the “play” button.
“You have one new message,” the machine began, “and seven hundred twenty-one old messages.”
“We really need to clean that thing,” Sunset said.
“First message—beep!—Message deleted. Saved messa—beep!”
Sunset turned around in shock, “You're not gonna listen to the message?”
Wallflower shrugged, “Why?”
“Well, she is your mom. Don't you want to hear what she has to say?”
“Not really.”
Sunset looked at Wallflower, confused.
“It's not like she's really much of a mom. You know she only calls when me AA tells her to.”
“Maybe it's different this time.”
“I used to think that. But she never changes.”
“That doesn't mean you should keep her out.”
“She's the one who left.”
“But, still—”
“Look,” Wallflower snapped, “only because you're an orphan and never knew your parents, I don't expect you to understand. But, sometimes, having parents is worse than having no parents.”
Sunset recoiled. That had stung.
She set down the knife and breathed deeply.
She knew Wallflower didn't mean it. Didn't make the words hurt any less.
“I'm sorry,” she heard Wallflower say, “I'm gonna go take a shower.”
Sunset stood alone, silent.
She hadn't felt this pain in a long time. There were days she felt sad about not having parents. But, this felt at a deeper level—a stronger pain.
Her thoughts turned to the blade.
Pain, suffering. It wasn't enough they were emotional, they needed to be physical as well.
Slowly, she gripped the kitchen knife. Without thought, she brought it to her forearm, near the crook of her elbow, and drew it across.
It stung.
She yelped, grabbing her arm; the knife clattered on the floor. Her eyes stung with welled tears, her body seethed with pain.
Looking down, she saw blood seeping through her fingers.
She grabbed for some paper towels and crumpled to the floor.
She pulled off a few sheets and applied them to her wound. There, she waited for her body to respond.
Already, she felt the body's defense and coping mechanisms taking effect. A cool and calm began to flow over her.
She leaned her head back against the cabinets.
So, this is what it feels like...
Sunset waited a few minutes before checking on her wound. Slowly, she removed the paper towel bandage.
The bleeding had stopped and the wound begun to scab. She cautiously examined it.
She hadn't cut very deep—was merely a flesh wound.
It still stung.
Sunset slowly rose to her feet. No point sitting on the floor. Best to keep moving.
She set the oven to warm and picked the knife off the floor, hand-washing it before putting it into the dishwasher.
She looked down at her arm. She would need more than a paper towel bandage for that. But, their first aid stuff was in the bathroom. She would have to wait for Wallflower to be done with her shower before she could tend to her wound.
Then, there was also the matter of Wallflower.