//------------------------------// // Doors - Scootaloo & Sweetie Belle // Story: Table for Two // by KitsuneRisu //------------------------------// The young pegasus didn’t give the menu more than a quick glance; within a moment of sitting down she already had her order in mind. A water was delivered to the table without protest. A water suited the situation best. It was tasteless, lacked character, and was completely free. Her entire body leaned forward over the edge of the seat, a hoof buried into her cheek as she propped it up, her eyes closed, trying to ignore the cloud of chatter that was standard noise for a busy cafe. The noise died down, bleeding into white. A young unicorn burst through the door soon after, to which the pegasus gave a lazy regard, barely even looking up from her slump. The unicorn’s face was a mix of emotion: her eyes betrayed anger; her quivering lip betrayed sadness; but mostly, she was disappointed. “What are you doing?” Sweetie Belle yelled, throwing her book-bag to the ground. Scootaloo sighed, reaching out for a sip of water. “So, that’s it?” Belle continued. “Not gonna say anything?” “What’s there to say?” Scootaloo replied, shrugging. Her shoulders scratched at the air as they raised up; her shaking was harder to hide when she had to move. Belle invited herself into the seat across from her friend. “An explanation would be nice!” The table rocked. “I’m not the one who needs to give an explanation!” Scootaloo screamed. Sweetie Belle shrank in her seat. Water pooled at the edge of the table and started trickling off the side. Scootaloo, breathing furiously, raised her hoof off the table and folded it across her chest, sitting back in resignation. The chatter of the cafe never picked back up again. “Scoots, can we go somewhere else–” Belle hissed. Scootaloo opened her mouth, huffing, her eyes narrowing as she proclaimed: “No. This is my home now. Right here. And I’m not moving.” “We can talk to them–” “No! This always happens! I’m so sick of it! I mean, seriously? On the first day of university? Why today? Why after I was accepted?” “I don’t have an answer for that,” Belle said, softly. “But you know how parents are. They’re always doing things wrong. Mine are… just… weird.” “Yeah, they are. And today, they crossed the line. I am not moving back to Cloudsdale. I worked my wings off to get accepted into Canterlot University, and I’m not going back!” “Well…” Belle trailed off. Scootaloo breathed a bit slower now, her frame no longer rising and falling with her chest. She sighed again, looking off to the side. “We were never really that close, anyway,” she said, with a tinge of reluctance. Belle listened. “I mean, I was sent here when I was like, what? Five? Never looked back since.” “Yeah but it was for the best,” argued Belle. “I mean, not that I’m saying anything but… you know.” “Yeah, I know. My wings. Dude, I got over that ages ago. But I can fly now, and suddenly they want me to go back to Cloudsdale. They want me to ignore my home. My patron family. My friends. I mean…” Scootaloo started waving her forelegs around toward Sweetie. “You! You guys! They want me to give you guys up and just go ‘home’!” “They probably miss you.” “Haven’t they been living just fine up in Cloudsdale by themselves these last fifteen years?” “Yeah, but…” “I mean, not like we don’t visit or write or whatever.” “It’s not the same, Scoots.” Belle swallowed hard. A look of disbelief crossed the pegasus’ face. “You taking their side? I can’t believe you’re taking their side. I can not believe you’re taking their side!” “Look… I don’t live with my parents either. You know that. But I got Rarity, and… she’s still real family. You know?” “How dare you insinuate that the Clovers aren’t my real family! They’ve been taking care of me for more than my so-called real parents have!” “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t–” Sweetie clapped her hoof across her forehead, shaking it wildly. “And they have had every opportunity to come down to live with me, haven’t they? Dad could have got a new job here, couldn’t he?” “Now, that’s not fair, Scoots,” Belle raised her voice. “They were poor. Your patrons were nice enough to take you in for free until your parents could pay them back. They worked hard for you, too!” “Why are you protecting them?” “Look, I’m… I’m not…” Belle fumbled for the words. “It’s just… you always end up frustrated with them, and I don’t… I don’t feel it’s right. I’m not saying you’re the one who has to take on all the burden, but maybe you could just work something out with them this time instead of going all-or-nothing like you usually do.” Scootaloo blew out an exasperated puff of air. “Like, ever since your wings finally grew in seven years ago, hasn’t your dad been asking you to go back?” “Well, yeah, but that’s just the same thing. He keeps asking like every year or something, and I keep telling him I have a life here. You know? And he still wants to stay up there for his own stupid reasons, so whatever.” “Scoots, his reason for staying up there is because Cloudsdale is his home.” Scootaloo looked away. “And he still tries to ask. And I think it’s just… because it happens so often or whatever. When was the last time he asked you?” “About two years ago, or something.” “He stopped after that?” “Yeah. I thought he got a clue. But guess he didn’t. Yesterday I get a letter from him asking me to go back. Asking me if I would consider moving back to Cloudsdale. Asking me to go up there as soon as I can because they wanna talk about it.” “Maybe they just want to talk about it, Scoots.” “I’m sick of it.” “I know the timing’s off, but–” “No! The timing’s stupid!” Scootaloo burst out again. “They knew I was entering Canterlot U. They knew. They sent a letter of congratulations and everything. Saying, you know, good on me, I’m gonna have a great life, and then suddenly, bam, I’m supposed to just drop everything and go back.” “Maybe they just don’t understand how you feel. Have you ever told them properly?” “Yeah, I tell them all the time in the letters.” “No, I mean properly. Face-to-face. When was the last time you went up there?” “I dunno. Ages ago.” Scootaloo shrugged meekly. “I guess I kinda just wanted us to drift apart. Would’ve been easier.” “Well, maybe you should just… go up there. Talk it out and work it out.” “I don’t know, Belle.” Scootaloo shook her head as she tried not to think. “I just… I don’t wanna handle it. I’m independent now. I got everything I need here. I got school to worry about.” “Scoots…” “Look, don’t…” Scootaloo held up a hoof. “Just… please. This is my life, okay? I just… I’m gonna just ignore their letters from now on. I don’t need this kind of stress. I can live with them not being a part of my business.” Scootaloo stood up roughly, looking down as her mane flew across her dry eyes. Sweetie Belle looked up at her. “Scoots…” “Just don’t!” Scoots snapped, jerking a hoof outward toward her friend and shutting her eyes. “Just don’t. Okay? Look, I’ll see you at school or something. Whatever.” She swept away. Sweetie Belle sat there, staring at the table, watching the water drip off the edge. - - - - Reverse explosions of white light blinked in and out of The Cafe, random splashes of blinding flares cascading throughout the space. Images and sounds and ponies overlaid each other like a series of still images being thrown out one after the other, all dancing within the ghostly lights and dazzling cacophony. When the lights died down, there were only two left standing in the middle of the room. Scootaloo, an older version, but not by much, stood there, biting her lip, releasing it, biting it again, her heart racing. “Miss Scootaloo,” The Owner said. “Are you…” “No,” Scootaloo whispered. “No, no, no, no.” The Owner tilted his head to the side. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Scootaloo shook hers. “That didn’t happen.” “No. You went home.” “I went home. I did. That was the truth. That happened. Belle… she… she convinced me.” Scootaloo held up a shaking hoof. “Heh.” “Yes.” “I went home and... “ a small, melancholic smile started to curl up at the sides of Scootaloo’s mouth. “... I went home to meet my new brother.” The Owner nodded. “He was born on the day they sent the letter. They wanted me to go home so that he…” Scootaloo choked, a tear running down her face, “so that he could grow up with family.” Scootaloo turned, suddenly, staring at The Owner. “But we talked, and we agreed on an arrangement. I’d stay, but I’d visit a lot more, and when I’d finished my studies, I’d reconsider moving back. We agreed. That happened. That happened!” Scootaloo roared, pointing behind her. “Not this! I went home!” “Yes, you did.” The Owner nodded, impassively. “Why show me this? Why?” Scootaloo wept bitterly. “Don’t you even care?” The Owner stood, considering his stance. His eyes moved briefly to the left, but he showed no signs of happiness, sadness or regret at what transpired. “I… am sorry that you had to see that,” The Owner said calmly. “But it is not up to me. It is one of the things that you had to.” “And you just stand there? Like that?” Scootaloo wiped her face with her leg, sniffing. “Heartless!” “It is one of the things I gave up when I took on this responsibility,” he said. Scootaloo dipped her head down. “I am… sorry, genuinely,” The Owner’s voice echoed through the empty room. “But… if it is any consolation, that is a mere shadow. You… did go home. You have grown closer to your family. That was the true experience.” “How do you know?” Scootaloo whispered. “How?” “Yeah!” Her head shot up suddenly. “How? You keep talking about experiences and all this other crap, and… you tell me oh yeah, what I just saw, what I just saw with my own two eyes, and felt, and heard, all that wasn’t real? That other Scootaloo who just freakin’ made the dumbest mistake of her damn life wasn’t real?” “No.” “I could have been her! I could have!” Scootaloo held her hooves up to her head. It had begun to throb. “But you weren’t. You weren’t.” “Tell me why!” Scootaloo shouted, pleading. “Tell me how this all works! No more funny answers, okay? Please. Please.” The Owner was silent for a while. He looked, if anyone could say, mildly concerned. “Please.” Scootaloo implored, one last time. “Very well. I will… tell you,” The Owner said, looking cautiously toward the sky.