Bon-Bon the Demon Slayer

by ObabScribbler

14. Bad Eggs

Author's Note:

I know this is severely short compared with the other chapters in this fic, but I've literally had this waiting on my harddrive for a year, so I figured it would be better to post a short chapter as it is than no chapter at all.

School was a nightmare.

It had never been the easiest place to be, but now Bon-Bon found every waking minute a trial, as opposed to ever other minute. She tried to stay home, pleading with her mother for a few extra days, but her mother was immovable. The day after Bon-Bon returned from hospital, she was packed off to Miss Lavish’s Conservatory for Young Ladies with a schoolbag and a warning to ‘behave herself’.

She sloped into the building, feeling like all eyes were on her. She was received by the Headmistress’s aide, who whisked her to the eponymous Miss Lavish’s office. There Bon-Bon was left waiting until long after the bell for had rung for first period. Bon-Bon studied the potted aspidistra in the corner until the door opened and a tall pony minced out.

Once upon a time, somepony had told Miss Lavish that she looked like Princess Celestia. Her long legs, white coat, sharp horn and pink mane were something like the princess’s, though she would never fool anypony. Nevertheless, she had fastened on this compliment and spent the rest of her life trying to live up to it. As such, she allowed her mane to flow freely and teased it into a semblance of a swirl (though after a while it looked like she had stuck her hoof in an electrical socket). Her shrewd eyes were rimmed with kohl and missed nothing, though one might be forgiven for assuming her silly laugh and vanity meant her head was empty. One did not run one of the most successful private schools in Manehattan without intelligence, not to mention a degree of ruthlessness.

“Ah, Bon-Bon,” she simpered. “Come in, come in. take a seat, dear.”

Bon-Bon dutifully complied, perching on a chair that seemed designed for the comfort of some creature other than a pony. She places her forehooves flat on the surface, drawing her hind legs up slightly to ease the pressure on her lower back, but the chair’s design continued to exacerbate the discomfort she was already feeling about being in this office at all. Miss Lavish had lived up to her name and the whole room was festooned with expensive ornaments, filigree and gold inlay. Proudly displayed in the centre of the wall was a photograph of the time she had shaken hooves with Princess Celestia herself after one of the school’s students won some national award. The student had been pushed to one side, allowing Miss Lavish and a slightly bemused looking Princess Celestia to claim the limelight.

“Bon-Bon.” Miss Lavish seated herself with not apparent discomfort. She leaned forward on her desk. Her smile was bright but had far too many teeth. “Now dear, I understand that you’ve been through a rather … trying time recently.”

She didn’t know the half of it. Bon-Bon resisted the urge to drop her gaze. When she realised that the headmistress expected a response, she nodded.

“I want you to know, dear, that we’re here for you if you need to talk.”

“I’m fine. Really.” Not really, but numb was as good as fine. Everything felt a little unreal. She wondered whether anything would ever feel real again.

“Much as I’d like to believe that, dear, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.” Miss Lavish adopted an expression of understanding, drawing her lower lip into a small pout. “We all think we’re fine after we’ve been through a trauma, but more often than not, we aren’t. So I’m going to have to insist you make an appointment with the school counsellor.”

“I don’t need a grief counsellor.” Her mother and father had already booked her in to see their therapist next week. She didn’t want to talk about Nonna to anypony. None of them understood how empty and hollow she felt in the wake of her grandmother’s death and talking about it only made her feel lonelier.

Miss Lavish blinked. “Yes, uh, that too.” She fumbled for her next words, Bon-Bon’s response having clearly put her off her spiel.

Bon-Bon stared. What else would she need to talk to the school counsellor about except … oh no.

Miss Lavish’s smile stayed fixed and shiny, as if coated in shellac. “Everypony needs somepony to nudge them in the right direction sometimes. Keep us on the, uh, straight and narrow, so to speak.” She gave a tinkling laugh. She couldn’t have been more obvious if she had added, “Hint-hint.”

She thought Bon-Bon had tried to hurt herself. Or taken something she shouldn’t have. Suicide or an overdose: which was better for your headmistress to assume of you? The pit fell out of Bon-Bon’s stomach. She resisted the urge to stand up and walk out.

The shellac smile remained. “Bon-Bon? Dear?”

A dozen responses fought their way to the front of Bon-Bon’s mind. Yet as she met Miss Lavish’s gaze, every one of them deflated. What was the point? Ponies would think what they would think, no matter what. It wouldn’t matter if she protested. It might even convince them even more. Ponies who protested too much were usually lying, after all. Right?

“Bon-Bon?” Miss Lavish tried once more.

“Whatever you say, Miss Lavish.”

“Wonderful. I’m glad you agree. Now let me see …” She pushed forward a clipboard with a sheet of paper attached. Clearly she had been ready for Bon-Bon’s arrival. “I believe Miss Salad has an opening tomorrow morning …” A pink aura enveloped the quill on the desk, levitating it to sign Bon-Bon’s name in quick, sharp strokes. “There we are. You’ll report to her at 10am.”

“Can I go now?”

Miss Lavish seemed a little flummoxed at Bon-Bon’s terseness. She blinked rapidly as she said, “Uh, of course, dear. I just want you to know that everyone is here for you whenever you need us.”

Bon-Bon stood gratefully, cricking her back. “Yeah. Thanks,” she said tonelessly.

The headmistress’s aide took her to class, which was already in full swing when she got there. The science lab buzzed with low-level chatter, which died the moment the door opened to reveal them.

“Just delivering Miss Sweetie-Drops to you,” said the aide.

The science teacher, a gruff stallion called Mr Sulphur, flapped a hoof for Bon-Bon to take her seat without breaking his stride. “And as you can see, the nitrogen cycle relies heavily on waste like decomposing plant matter …”

Bon-Bon trailed to her place and clambered up onto the stool. Mr Sulphur was a teacher of the ‘talk-at-them-really-loud-and-they’ll-learn-it’ variety, so he rarely noticed the hushed whispers that blended into the growl of his own voice. Added to his propensity for chalkboards and elaborate diagrams, this meant that whole conversations could happen during his classes with him none the wiser.

It took less than five minutes for the filly next to her to say something. She and Bon-Bon had never really spoken before, other than mundane things to do with class. In Mr Sulphur’s class ‘lab partner’ was strictly an in-name-only term.

“How come you’re not in rehab?”

Bon-Bon simply glared at her.

The filly shrank back. “I was only asking. Yeesh, tou-chy.” She bent her head to her own notes, which seemed to consist mostly of doodling ‘Heart Throb loves Slugger’ over and over in little hearts.

When she bent her neck, Bon-Bon caught a glimpse of the pony on the workbench beyond theirs. Her stomach clenched until she felt like she might actually puke. She hadn’t seen Bright Eyes since the … incident. She hadn’t been back to school since that terrible evening and, of course, neither had contacted the other in the interim. Bright Eyes kept her head down, apparently making actual notes from everything Mr Sulphur said. As Bon-Bon watched, however, she saw Bright Eyes sneak a covert glance in her direction. Their gazes met for the briefest of moments – long enough for Bon-Bon to see Bright Eyes’s alarm.

Bon-Bon turned back to her work but the sheet of paper she was supposed to be making notes on blurred. Damn it, not now! Numbness was preferable to blubbing in class. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry! She grabbed her saddlebag from under the table and grubbed about for the packet of tissues Nonna had taught her always to carry. She pressed one to her eyes, one by one, glad she didn’t wear make-up so it didn’t smear or run. Somepony giggled behind her but she was gulping air too hard to distinguish who the voice belonged to.

The bell couldn’t ring fast enough. Science class seemed interminable. Bon-Bon ran for the door and ducked into the girls’ powder room en route to her next class. Miss Lavish’s Conservatory for Young Ladies didn’t have bathrooms, as she insisted whenever she overheard one of the students slip and use the common term. The door had pink fluff glued around the glittery pink sign, which swished as Bon-Bon barrelled inside in a very unladylike fashion.

She hid in a stall, wishing she had a paper bag to breath into. What a time for her emotions to come back to life. She was caught between wanting to cry and break something. She tore up the tissue clutched in her hoof and threw it into the toilet. The backs of her eyes stung. In sheer frustration at the unfairness of the events of the past week, she kicked the toilet for good measure.

The ceramic cracked and water flowed out over her hooves. Startled, she jumped back, ramming up against the locked door. The cistern gurgled indignantly as she dragged back the locked and backed out until she hit the row of fluffy pink sinks and fluffy pink mirrors beyond.

“And I thought I was the only one brave enough to cut class,” said a voice. “Apparently I’ve got competition.”

Bon-Bon looked up to see a tall filly perched on the windowsill – fluffy and pink, naturally. The filly wasn’t pink and she was definitely not fluffy. Her mane was straight as a board and hung down over her face in a rakish style that had obviously taken a lot of practise. Her ears poked through, each one pierced by hoops and tiny diamond studs that twinkled in the light from outside. The regulation number of earrings was one stud in each ear, though Miss Lavish frowned on any at all. Neither did she like ostentatious jewellery, though Cara Orange got away with diamond necklaces and bracelets every day, and this filly had wrapped a choker around her throat comprised of enough rubies to make a diamond dog try to bite her throat out.

Bon-Bon glanced back at the ruined toilet. It was impossible for the other filly to see the damage from where she was sitting, but the water pooling on the floor was a giveaway.

“Did you break it?” The other filly hopped down and hurried over, leaning on Bon-Bon’s shoulder with one foreleg to get a better look. “Hot damn, you did! Now why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“I … I didn’t mean to,” Bon-Bon stammered.

“Why not? Best thing that could’ve happened to it.” The other filly pulled a face. “It’s pink.”

“Wh-what should I do?” Bon-Bon bit her lip. She should go tell somepony. Maybe they’d think the crack was already there and the bowl just broke when she sat down –

“Duh, you should more cherry bombs down the others.” The other filly shoved the shoulder she was leaning on, making Bon-Bon stumble, and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Cherry … bomb?” Bon-Bon blinked at her.

The other filly’s head jerked up at the bell that signalled the time for travelling between classrooms was over. Anypony caught out of lessons now would be in trouble. Bon-Bon had never been in trouble in her life. Not even so much as a tardy slip or a detention. Well, until now.

Then again, what did it matter now? The only pony she would have cared about disappointing was Nonna. Imagining the look on her mother and father’s faces if she blemished her perfect record was almost … invigorating.

“Uh-oh, late again,” the other filly smiled, as if it didn’t bother her in the slightest. “You gonna do the four-hoof shuffle now?”

“Four hoof …?”

“You’re like an echo, you know that? Are you gonna run back to class and pretend like this never happened?”

Bon-Bon considered this for exactly three seconds. “I’m not going to class.”

“Really?” The other filly raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you around school before. You’re a real goody-goody.”

Bon-Bon tossed her head. “Not … not anymore.”

“Ooh, dramatic.”

The other filly had no idea how momentous this was. Bon-Bon had always tried to do her best and be a good pony. She had wanted to please her grandmother and make her proud. Yet what had being a good pony brought her? Nothing but disappointment, frustration and misery. Maybe it was time she tried a different way.

“I’m … I’m ditching.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Um … do you know how to get off campus in the middle of the day without getting caught?”

The tall filly’s heavily made-up eyes widened. She had applied so much gaudy mascara and eyeliner that the whites of her eyes appeared extra stark. “Yeesh, judgemental much? I’m in the girls’ room when I shouldn’t be so I must automatically be the school delinquent?”

“Oh … sorry … I didn’t mean to –”

She laughed uproariously. “Your face. You really are a goody-goody. You’re right, though. I do know how to get out of this dump without anypony seeing.” She tilted her chin, looking down at Bon-Bon from her already quite considering height. “If you’re mare enough.”

Bon-Bon shook off the misgivings trying to cling to her. “Let’s go. My name’s –”

“Bon-Bon. I know. Like I said, I’ve seen you around school before.”

“Oh. I, uh …”

“No worries. I didn’t expect you to know me.” The other filly stuck out a hoof for Bon-Bon to shake. “I’m Garnet. Garnet Stone.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, my parents reached deep when they named me.”

Bon-Bon’s eyes widened. Garnet Stone? Heir to the gemstone import empire? No wonder she was able to get away with rampant infringement of the uniform policy – her parents practically bankrolled the whole school through hefty donations. No matter what she did, their daughter was guaranteed a perfect score on her route to graduation.

“I see you’ve heard of me.” Garnet’s face twisted up. She brushed past Bon-Bon, a little too forcefully. “C’mon. Let’s beat hoof.”

Bon-Bon hesitated for just a moment before following her.

….

When Derpy Hooves knocked on Bon-Bon’s door the next morning, it took Bon-Bon longer than usual to answer. Sweet smells billowed out and Derpy’s fringe ruffled at the wash of warm air that escaped over her.

“Wow! That s-smells so guh-good!” she exclaimed. “What are you b-baking?”

“My feelings,” Bon-Bon muttered.

“Huh?”

“Umm, coconut cupcakes, fudge pops, salted almond brittle, sugar cookies, shortbread, peppermint creams, cherry and sultana scones, white chocolate pretzel bites and I just got some banana muffins out of the oven.”

Derpy’s eyes widened. “Muffins?” The word came out with crystal clarity, no hint of a stutter.

Bon-Bon vanished inside for a few moments, reappearing with a tray in oven-gloved hooves. “Here. Take one. Take several. Take them all.”

Derpy’s hoof hesitated in reaching out. “Huh?”

Bon-Bon sighed. “It’s easier if you just see for yourself.” She gestured for her to follow.

When they reached the kitchen, Derpy halted and whistled. Her eyes rotated, not at the same speed, each trying to focus on one of the many, many piles of sweet treats. “How long have you been awake to do all this?”

“A while.” Bon-Bon neglected to mention she had arrived home from patrol too wired to sleep at all. Some of the creations were from this morning but some were from the previous day, carefully packaged up in Tupperware boxes to keep them from going stale. She had been unable to settle after her talks with Princess Luna, Zecora and Twilight Sparkle. Since baking and confectionary were her calming mechanism, when she arrived home that afternoon she had set to work trying to calm herself enough to get a nap in before nightfall.

It hadn’t worked.

So she had kept trying.

By the time the long evening had drawn to a close and night had fallen enough for demons to be abroad, her brain was still thrumming. So she had gone on a fruitless patrol, come back when the sun’s rays protected the townsfolk and gone back to cooking, hoping it would at least tire her out to keep doing the physical of abandoning her electric utensils and beating all mixtures by hoof with a wooden spoon.

“It would really help me if you took these muffins off my hooves,” she sighed. “I can put them in a bag or something for you.”

“Oh. Well, in th-that case, th-thank y-y-you. Would y-you m-mind if I c-come b-back for th-them l-later after I f-f-finish m-my r-rounds and my m-mailbag is empty?” Derpy’s ears flicked as if she wanted to lay them against her skull. “I wouldn’t w-want them to g-get r-ruined because I’m so cl-clumsy.”

“That’s fine. I don’t have much planned for today anyhow.” Except trying not to drive herself insane thinking about Starswirl’s Slayer spell and Twilight Sparkle’s … Twilight Sparkleness.

Luna had teleported herself and the Lunar Sword to Bon-Bon’s attic from Zecora’s before heading back to Canterlot. When Bon-Bon walked back into town at her much slower pace, she felt the Sword sense her approach and realised with surprise that she was pleased to reconnect with it too. She was so busy registering this surprise that she did not even see Twilight before she nearly walked into her.

“Hi, Bon-Bon!”

Oh. Crap.

Comments

[parlaptie]

Oh nice, I honestly didn't expect this story to get anymore updates at all. It's good to see it's still kicking, even if it's just a short chapter. Who knows, maybe writing shorter chapters in general would work out better for you?

[AcerSpacer]

Oh hey, an update! Nothing wrong with a short chapter. They might even feel better to write than monolithic ones.

[star1wars3]

Short chapter is fine, I'm just happy to see another!

[Thyrrnatf]

That cliffhanger.... That just cruel 🤣😂

Really good story looking forward to more

[56]

Always glad to read more of this . Thanks

[FanOfMostEverything]

Glad I've finally caught up with this. Outstanding work, especially Twilight Sparkle's almost irresistible adorkability. That mare's a friendship gravity well without meaning to be. Looking forward to more.

[Twistbone]

So hype to see this update again

[DavisSentoV5]

Then cliffhangers. Joking aside, it was great to see a chapter updated sorry it took me a lot of read this and very excited to see when happens next.

[cogwheelbrain]

Bon-Bin really did have a tough life didn't she. Sigh.

[Casual_Reader357]

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𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒...

[Thyrrnatf]

Really hope that you will pick up this story again 😁🥰