The End of an Old Day

by Satsuma

Chapter 2

"Uhh....Mrs Shimmer?"

'Mrs' Shimmer sighed, but did not look back at her subordinates. "How many times have i told you, Snips, it's 'Miss Shimmer'. I'm not married yet, and I don't plan to be, so remember this now and you can use it forever." She slapped another brick on for emphasis, then dragged a fresh layer of concrete over the top. The rasp of a trowel was the only sound that followed.

"So....uh....Miss Shimmer?"

She thought they'd be sufficiently occupied with the work cut out for all three of them. Apparently not. Apparently back-breaking menial labour wasn't enough to silence them, despite the fact that they had to think for many times the length of the words they spoke. "Yes, Snails, what is it?"

"It's just that it's getting late, and uh, our parents...." Snips trailed off as Sunset turned to face them. Slowly and with much control, probably planning to rip their heads off. She didn't look as angry as he had expected her to be. In fact, she didn't seem to be angry at all. Just tired, and something else as well, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Why can't we go to the party like everyone else?" Snails whined. Snips could have sworn that Miss Shimmer had winced at hearing that. Normally, he'd expect her to explode about how this was 'really your own fault, so quit complaining and if I hear one more word from you I'll....'

"Because we blew a hole in the school wall, and we have to fix it. Besides," she added, "It's a little late to worry about that, isn't it?" That ought to keep them quiet. It did, and usually this would fill her with some small measure of personal pride, which she embellished in, but tonight, seeing the two young boys foundering and tongue-tied only made her feel vaguely guilty and a little tired as well. "You boys can leave once you finish the part that you blew up."

"But...But...that's, like, huge!" he said, gesturing to a gaping oblong hole, two metres wide and a metre high at least. The newly-uncovered hallway beyond was scattered with bits and pieces of red brick and concrete dust all over. She planned to sweep that up after those two had left. They would probably create a bigger mess than the one they tried fixing.

"The sooner you stop complaining, the sooner you'll get to go home. "

The owner of the new voice gingerly hefted a brick or two in each hand, then moved towards the hole that Snips was gesticulating towards. "Maybe an extra pair of hands can help speed this up a little?" She was on her knees and laying bricks as Snails scraped on fresh layers of concrete. "What time's your curfew, boys?"

"Well, on special occasions like tonight, I think it was, uh....Snips, what time we gotta get back home?" The reply stated twelve-thirty sharp. The new arrival checked her watch and wrinkled her nose. "We'd better hurry up. You'll have some explaining to do either way. It's just a matter of how much."

Sunset kneeled facing her portion of the wall, her construction halted as she listened in rapt silence. Luck would have it that she turned just in time to catch Coco's eye. Coco offered her a sad, sympathetic.... somewhat mocking, smile. Maybe not intentionally, Sunset thought. Probably not intentionally. She returned the same expression, with a touch of gratitude on the raise of her brows.

It brought back a familiar memory, and she recalled it as she turned back to her wall. 'Coco, Coco....you were alway too nice for your own good,' she thought to herself. 'Thank goodness for that.'

---

Months ago....

She'd ran into him in the hallway once the following day. It was barely more than a "hello", a fleeting smile, and a peculiar glint that passed between their eyes. It made her feel warm inside, which made it a little more bearable--comfortable, even--to exist as herself now. Lessons barely consisted of the idle moments that had led her down dangerously lonely paths of thought anymore.

She felt a little less guarded now that she could say that she had an acquaintance (acquaintance in the least, anyway) somewhere near. Unknowingly, some old plans and contingencies--like intentionally keeping her grades 'below the radar'--disappeared from her list of priorities, and brought about the relevant changes in her behavior. For instance, she actually found it in herself to surpass the school's ludicrously (relatively) low expectations, in her lessons, in her work. It showed especially in the work.

Unbeknownst to her, her teachers were all baffled by how a strictly 'above-average' student had somehow managed essays of startling insight, straight-A assignments and an new, unusually attentive disposition in class. And all that over the course of a weekend.

If she had known it wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. She couldn't care that much. In fact, what she thought about most was the literature class the coming Wednesday. Naturally, Wednesday took its time.

---

She got to class early that morning, hoping to find a place which was proximate to Fresh Scent-Tree.

At least, that's what she thought he had said, when she asked for his name. She'd almost forgot to, that evening, and he was halfway up his bus before she remembered. As such, she hadn't caught everything over the roaring of the big, aged engine of the public transport vehicle.

As expected, the school was unusually quiet even in the morning, and nearly as deserted as the evenings, save for a few early birds like her. She held the main door open for a lean, nervous-looking girl, who mumbled a thank-you to the doorknob. Sunset smiled kindly and proceeded on her way. So early was it in the day, that the soft brush of her sneakers on the flooring could be heard. The chorus of clashing but benign voices had yet to taken up their cry.

Even compared to the sleepiness in the corridor, Room 11-D seemed insulated. But not stifling. Not anymore. She eyed a desk in the second row and the same column. Directly in front of the teacher would be too abrupt a change (she was more relaxed, not foolhardy), and close enough to where she observed Fresh to prefer. Plus, it was easy for her to feign attention when both he and the teacher were in the same general direction.

She slung her bag off, gauged the distance, and tossed her bag, smirking when it hit the right table. A silly little game, but she'd felt like it and she'd liked it.

She'd almost started hopping around on a foot when the doorknob clicked. The sudden intrusion of an alien noise in an otherwise soundless and empty room scared her out of her reverie.

"Oh, sorry!" the voice replied, its owner cringed slightly. "Did I disturb you?"

Sunset recovered from the slight stumble, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and blinking to regain her composure and hide her surprise. "Uh, no, not at all." She recognized the sky-blue vertical stripes and bob cut from earlier, smiled at the diminutive girl. "Hi again."

She smiled back with some fragility. "I'm looking for Room 11-D, is this it?"

"Yeah, this is it. Come on, take a seat." Sunset patted the chair next to hers, trying to recall when she had seen this same girl before. It took her little time to realize that, in fact, she hadn't. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen you before," she stated as tactfully as possible.

The other girl nodded emphatically, more enthusiastically than most people would have afforded at the best of times. The motion also made her electric blue eyes take on an iridescent gleam that was not altogether due to the lighting. Sunset took it as an encouragement to keep the conversation going. "I just got a transfer from Manehattan. Started school last Thursday."

"No wonder," Sunset mused. "May I know your name?"

"I'm Coco Pommel," she responded brightly, reaching out a hand. Sunset took it and shook.

"Sunset Shimmer," she responded. "I'm quite new here as well, say, half a year. I....still don't really know anyone."

Coco's expression turned completely blank upon hearing this, before it was masked in the guise of polite laughter. Sunset's training at her former mentor's hands would have helped her catch the slip even while blind-folded, and she smiled wryly. "You'll probably get into it faster than I did," she conceded, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I was always a bit of a loner."

"Thanks," Coco said gratefully, speaking as much with her eyes as with her mouth.

The bell rang, then left the bustle of footsteps, slamming lockers and chatting voices in its wake.

Sunset removed her hand and offered one last smile. Coco gave a minute close-mouthed grin, and her eyes gave off a peculiar gleam that was not altogether unfamiliar to Sunset.

---

Flash stopped in his tracks as a group of stragglers finally left from the hall where the Fall Formal was held. The blend of happy laughter carried across the night air, and among the voices he caught a familiar accent, or a lilt. At the periphery of the school boundary, the group stopped, someone said something in that familiar accent, and broke off, waving goodbye to the others who were still in high spirits.

Coco Pommel glanced furtively to the obliterated wall and the figures hunched over their work, then, with hands clasped in front of her, and a step so light that she almost tip-toed, she approached them as one would a dangerous beast. She needn't have bothered, it seemed, because she didn't speak a word to Sunset. For a moment they seemed to pause facing each other, but Flash put it down to his imagination. He found it exceedingly strange that two people who wouldn't tolerate being in the same room as one another were suddenly able to coexist in sombre silence.

He shrugged. He'd half given up on understanding the opposite gender after that episode with Sunset. He knew that it amounted to running away from something unpleasant instead of coming to terms with it, and that there were probably nicer girls out there (even compared to their earlier days together). He wasn't sure what he knew really mattered.

It looked much safer to make an approach now anyway.

---

A rustle of grass sounded alien, when all she had been hearing for the past few hours was the scrape of trowel and lumpy concrete on brick. It snapped her out of the pleasant memory. The hand laid on Coco's shoulder so long ago came away cold and caked in building materials and dirt. She turned grumpily to the intrusion. 'Not even in my defeat am I to be left alone.'

The figure was a familiar shade from the past, or should be anyway. 'I thought we were dead to each other....'. The closing distance revealed more details like flesh forming on a spectre. Black jacket over white shirt, hands deep in the pockets of long blue jeans, blue hair standing in cresting peaks. He could have been looking right into her eyes, but when he stepped into the weak lighting of the exposed corridor, he didn't meet her gaze. 'What's he doing here?' Her eyes followed him as he got to his knees in front of the shattered wall, and non-chalantly started laying bricks where she had stopped abruptly. 'To help in earnest, or because she told him to keep an eye on me?' It nearly drove her into a panic, and for a moment her lungs and heart tried to flee from her chest.

On one hand she wanted to get up immediately and yell and stomp and scare Flash Sentry off like a stray cat, yet on the other hand, she wanted nothing more than to sit with only him on the wide front steps of the school compound so that they could talk the night and its happenings away. Or maybe they wouldn't talk at all, like they used to do sometimes. She absently handed him another brick at his wordless request.

---

Months Ago....

The door clicked open more quietly than Sunset expected. Flash all but tip-toed into the room.

"Well you're early," Sunset chided, narrowly avoiding a stutter because she was so nervous. 'Why?' she thought.

"Well I'm sorry," he responded, mimicking the tone of her jibe, banishing her self-accusal/-questioning from her thoughts.

"Gave them the slip in the parade ground," he explained. "Don't wanna get swamped into the back seats by the others," he said, rankling his nose, as he took the seat next to Sunset.

"So, " he said, turning his attention to Coco, "who might you be?"

"Oh." She seemed surprised that she'd been noticed. "I'm Coco Pommel, just transferred from Manehattan North Regional High," then added, "pleased to meet you," and stuck out her hand, which Flash shook firmly.

"I've been a transfer student myself," he said good-naturedly. "Not sure if Sunset here's told you yet--" Sunset nodded "--but so has she." He spread his hands in front of him in an open, relaxed gesture. "You'll be fine," he quipped, smiling. He turned and shot Sunset a glance that one would use with a partner in crime.

The utter seriousness and frivolousness of her feelings dawned upon her in the same instance.

That was how much their connection mattered to him, as small and alone as it was in light of their difference. And she felt it too, like the comforting touch of a small personal effect against the trials of the world beyond oneself.

Yet, the time and place (a school), and their stereotypical role as youths (young, foolish, untrue in heart) impressed themselves upon the perceived strength of this link. The fact that she barely knew him, hadn't called him by name before, and was essentially as unknown to him as Coco Pommel, all pointed in one direction; that their feelings were but games children played in their days of happy unawareness to deeper things.

At least, that was what was oft said about such things.

Sunset, disturbed by this new observation which had surfaced from apparently nowhere (though she later realised it had been her own subconscious distrust), immersed herself in a new pursuit, peeling away the outer layers of reasoning and logic, the aforementioned stereotypes and perhaps-true emotions, ascertained that what remained was fresh and viable. What she found, she couldn't really explain.

Aside from being the intangible talisman which comforted one in times of trial, or the foolish play-act of young adults, what she felt was also simply that; what she felt. Though she could not fully comprehend it, something had happened that evening, when they had, in tandem, faced one deep, dark, reclusive portion of themselves, and turned it inside out. Their mutual recognition--not only to fact and circumstance, but to actual emotion--had awakened a remarkable mutual empathy, where the considerations that had so troubled Sunset, had faded to nothings in their relative unimportance. It could be summed up simply.

"You know and I know," she whispered, concluding her thoughts.

"That we do," came a quiet response, before Flash pulled away and offered a reassuring smile from his seat beside her.

She jerked back into the world as presented by her senses, saw that most of the class was trickling in, those already seated having retried their relevant texts. As the class stood to greet the arriving teacher, she stood with them.

And, when she remembered, she returned his smile.

---

Author's Note:

Why is the default position for author's notes at the bottom?

Some form of continuity has been established. And also, sorry about the strange psycho-emotional thing near the end. I've been reading a lot of 'Dune' lately. Usually analysis of this sort would be impossible with the given context, but let's remember that Sunset is a Princess' protege. It also establishes the gradation between her own thought processes and Flash's (also presented briefly).

Special thanks to my friend, possessing a very sharp mind, quick wits, and great instincts, who read this chapter beforehand. He goes by the handle WhiteShadow.

Comments

[Dusty Old Qrow]

This is really good so far. Keep up the good work!

[Acoustic Pulse]

Hell of a chapter, mate. Spot on!

[Norm De Plume]

Author's notes can be selected to be at the top or the bottom. The *default* may be bottom, but top is available.