Chasing the Sky

by SnowOriole

Epilogue

About One Year Later.

The campus of the university of Cloudsdale is beautiful in autumn. Marble arches and ridged white pillars are beswept in the crisp reds of fallen leaves, while the trees planted around the bubbling stone fountains are themselves caught aflame with colour in the afternoon sunlight, their rustling canopies reflected in the glass windows of the buildings surrounding them.

Applejack steps out from the lecture theatre out in the midst of about a hundred other students, spilling out from the doors onto the wide stone pavement, where more leaves still crackle under two hundred shoe-soles, stomping rapidly onward to their respective destinations. The people here walk fast. Applejack could match their pace if she wanted, but a lot of the time she prefers to take it slow.

But today’s an exception to that rule.

“You’re walking really quickly today, Applejack,” notes Sunbeam, one of her classmates and closest friends in class. “That eager to get out of class?”

“Or maybe she’s going somewhere,” another friend, Caramel Swirl, suggests. In the background, Minuette and Ivory Key discuss what they’re going to eat for lunch at the canteen, talk of curry and crèpes and bingsoo.

“You’re all wrong,” interrupts Honey Maple, face stoic as always as she sips on her espresso. “She only has that look on her face when she’s going to see her girlfriend.”

Applejack draws her collar tighter around her neck, but judging by her friends’ delighted glances, it’s not doing anything hide the flush she feels in her cheeks. “Surely you can’t tell from just that.”

“Were we talking about Applejack’s girlfriend?” Ivory Key leaps into the conversation, peering over at Applejack. “Oh my goddess, she’s so red. Stop. Stop being so cute.”

“Let me see!” Minuette says next, and her eyes widen. “Oh my goddess. I have to stop being single. Ivory, please date me. We should all just date each other, actually.”

As Minuette and Ivory Key continue to bicker about hypothetical living arrangements, Applejack finds an opening to slip away and out through the gates, stifling her laughter. Her friends here may be different from the ones she has from Canterlot High, but she’s come to love them just as dearly.

~~~

Last spring, Applejack and her five friends graduated from high school. Soon after was results day. Then uni offers for interviews and admissions came rolling in, and after further discussion with her family, she made the final decision to attend college in Cloudsdale, for a combination of reasons like distance from Ponyville and their rural scholars programme. With the reunion of the Pears and Apples, Sweet Apple Acres became a lot more stable and less dependent on Applejack, which eased Applejack’s worst fears of leaving home for too long.

Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash was already headed to the Wonderbolts HQ and flight schools in Cloudsdale. This made for a neat coincidence which allowed them to spend the past year together, seeing each other whenever they could squeeze time out of each of their busy schedules.

But of course, coincidences are coincidences; they don’t keep happening forever.

When Applejack steps off the tram that had taken her from the busy university district to the quieter, suburban area of Cloudsdale, Rainbow Dash is waiting for her at the tram stop, her technicolour hair conspicuous among the bobbing heads of the crowd. She’s in a cropped white turtleneck and ripped denim shorts, a wallet chain dangling from its pocket. It’s a cute look on her, if atrociously thin for the weather, but Rainbow’s lived here all her life—she’s probably used to it.

Already smiling, Applejack tilts her hat at her in greeting, ignoring the stares of the commuters around her. Her country Stetson might stick out like a sore thumb amidst the caps and sunhats of the locals, but Tallulah had stayed on in Ponyville, stayed on in Canterlot, and certainly stays on here.

Rainbow smiles back when she catches sight of her. At her briskest pace, Applejack crosses the platform and sidles up to her, leaning in close to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“Your last day here, huh,” she says.

Rainbow nods, linking their hands together. “Let’s make the most of it.”

In the past year, they’ve made countless memories together in this city and its various locations. Today, they visit the park, which had been one of their most frequent haunts. There, they reminisced as they retraced the trails they loved to race along, as they sat on the meadow by the waterfall where they’d had picnics, and as they scaled grassy hills, remembering the times when they would spread out sheets at the top and lay down next to each other, chatting until the sun went down.

Cloudsdale was always as hopelessly starless as Canterlot, but Applejack had never felt lonely. Not with Rainbow by her side.

Yet tomorrow, Rainbow will be in Vanhoover, undertaking a six-month-long training course in prep for the Wonderbolts. Six months of not seeing Rainbow in person, and this won’t be the last time she’ll be away for a long time, neither. The whole while, Applejack keeps gripping Rainbow’s hand tight, trying to commit to heart the feel of her palm in hers. They’ll still be able to call and text, of course, but both of them still can’t help but attempt to fill up on the physical memories to sustain them on Rainbow’s time away.

The end of the day creeps up on them all too fast. Rainbow looks at her watch and says, “I have to go meet my parents for dinner.”

“Oh, alright,” Applejack shuffles her feet. “Bye then.”

But Rainbow glances up at her, and her mouth opens up in a question: “Would you like to join us?”

~~~

At first, Applejack had refused to come along. If Rainbow’s family wasn’t expecting her, they wouldn’t have her share of food, she reasoned. But Rainbow said next that she had already told her parents Applejack was coming.

“You shouldn’t have done that. What if I’d said no?” Applejack huffed.

“I knew you wouldn’t refuse me,” Rainbow said, widening her eyes.

Applejack gave her a flat stare.

“Okay, fine. I would’ve just eaten two portions of dinner. No biggie.”

And so they walk down a narrow street flanked by rows of white semi-detached terrace houses and red trees. Rainbow punches something into the numberpad by the big locked gate, and it squeaks as it slides open. Applejack follows Rainbow past the two cars parked out front and up onto the porch, peeling off her shoes in the entryway before stepping into the living room.

Rainbow waves a hand at the couch for Applejack to put her things down, a white leather thing with matching cushions that sits on a blue rug in front of the television behind a coffee table. Meanwhile, Rainbow stands on her tiptoes to grab a pellet-filled container from the top of a cupboard and disappears into the yard, presumably to feed her tortoise.

Applejack stands around awkwardly in the living room until Rainbow’s mother ambles out from the kitchen with a cup of water in hand. She’s a short, skinny woman with peach-coloured hair, beaming from ear to ear as she sweeps Applejack into a hug without warning.

“Applejack! It’s so good to finally meet you. Rainbow’s told us so much about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Nothing but,” Rainbow’s mother affirms, still beaming. She passes the cup into Applejack’s hands. “Here, drink up. The weather outside’s hot today. Rainbow’s dad is still cooking dinner.”

“Is it spaghetti bolognese?” Rainbow calls when she re-enters the house and sniffs the air. “Definitely spaghetti bolognese.”

“Her father makes a mean bolognese,” Rainbow’s mother says.

“Only thing he makes.” Rainbow smells like tortoise and grass when she reaches Applejack’s side and returns the container to the cupboard.

“Well, I was surprised to hear y’all were cookin’,” Applejack remarks. “Rainbow said y’all usually eat takeout.”

“Yes, most of the time we’re too busy,” Rainbow’s mother says. “But takeout is no way to treat a guest, now is it?” Her smile broadens as the door to the kitchen swings open, releasing the thick aromas of minced beef and tomato. “Have a seat, darling, we’ll serve you. As for you,” the woman reaches up to pull Rainbow’s ear, eliciting a squeak from the girl, “go take a shower before joining us, good heavens, you smell like a factory for tortoise poop.”

Rainbow’s father does, indeed, make a ‘mean’ bolognese. The sauce is rich with flavours that Applejack can tell has been simmered for hours to bring out, the best of garlic and olive oil married in one hearty gravy. Only Applejack’s good manners keep her from stuffing her mouth with the entire plate. Rainbow Dash, once returned from her shower, takes considerably less precaution, plunging into the chair and slurping up the pasta as if she hasn’t eaten in days.

Rainbow’s father sits across from them next to Rainbow’s mother. The man is stout, his hair a combed-back sweep of indigo and chin adorned with a dark stubble. An easygoing smile rests on his broad face, a twinkle in his eyes just like the one in Rainbow’s mother’s.

He tilts his head at Applejack. “Well, how do you like it?”

“It’s delicious, sir,” Applejack says with all sincerity. “Thank you for so kindly takin’ the trouble to cook for me.”

“Oh, no need for that, it was no trouble at all,” Rainbow’s dad says, but he’s smiling anyway, turning to Rainbow. “She’s polite, huh. Not like a certain someone I know.”

Rainbow pouts and begins to slurp… slightly less noisily.

“Even though we don’t cook very often, this is his specialty dish. That’s why it’s good,” Rainbow’s mother says. “You’re living on your own here, aren’t you? Do you usually cook or eat out?”

The conversation continues with Rainbow’s parents asking the normal introductory questions. Does she cook or eat out? Cook, it’s what she’s used to. What is she studying? First year in Engineering at the University of Cloudsdale. How’s she finding it? Tough at times, but really interesting. Does she miss her friends? Yes, they still do their best to keep in contact. So on and so forth.

A couple of questions about their dating life are next. None of them invasive, thankfully. And then comes the question, “Have you told anyone else? About you two?”

Their friends, yes. Rainbow and Applejack had announced it to the four other girls sometime during the last semester of high school. They were surprised but supportive. (Maybe a little too supportive, in fact. On a day when Applejack was over at Rainbow’s house for video games, Rainbow had opened the mailbox to a package from Pinkie Pie. She’d brought it in and, while sifting through its contents on the couch, stopped short at the last item, blushed the most furious shade of red, and then shoved it all the way back in the bottom of the bag, muttering under her breath.)

As for Applejack’s family…

“My brother pretty much knew before I even told him,” Applejack says. “I told my Granny and lil’ sis before I left for Cloudsdale. Apple Bloom was a tad confused, but didn’t make a fuss. Granny… she didn’t really, understand, but she asked me if I was happy. I said yes. She took a while considering that. The next day, she told me that if I was happy, then it was something she could live with.”

“I see,” Rainbow’s mother says. “I know it isn’t easy for you girls, but we both support you two. In fact, I think I’m gonna have to shovel talk Rainbow instead of you.” Rainbow Dash makes a noise of complaint, to no effect. Rainbow’s mother’s beam only widens. “Take good care of her for me, will you?”

Applejack hides her smile with her pasta-wound fork as Rainbow whines.

~~~

The airport terminal is full of people when they walk in from the taxi drop-off, Rainbow Dash rolling along her suitcase, while Applejack is mostly empty-handed, save for a day satchel. She accompanies Rainbow as she gets her boarding pass and checks in her luggage with all the smoothness of a seasoned traveller.

The departure hall is just ahead. In a few hours, Rainbow will board her flight, and in a few hours more she’ll be in Vanhoover, flying her own little plane over its picturesque mountains, sprawling forests and crystal oceans.

“I’ve got something for ya,” Rainbow says. Before Applejack can blink, Rainbow’s tossing something towards her. On reflex, she reaches out to catch it from the air.

Looking down, Applejack finds in her hands a small paper bag. Rainbow gestures at her to open it, so she does, carefully peeling away the lip of tape. Inside, a variety of different things lie inside, that Rainbow names as she goes through them.

A folded piece of paper… “That’s a letter. Write back to me, yeah?”

“Who in this day and age writes snail mail?”

“Come on! It’ll be cool! You get to use stamps!”

Applejack rolls her eyes and sighs. Next is a woolly, striped scarf of alternating red and green.

“I saw it in a market and thought of you,” Rainbow supplies.

“Okay, but like… why?”

“‘Cause I’m always thinking of you~~”

“...”

“.........Fine. Because it was red and green, like apples.”

Applejack rolls her eyes harder. As she’s folding the scarf and letter back into the bag, she notices something small gleaming at the bottom.

Carefully, Applejack takes it between her fingers and pulls it out. The wreaths of clouds engraved on the metal badge are still shiny as ever, like it’s regularly polished. It’s the same one that Rainbow always kept pinned on her bag flap since the day they’d met, the one bearing the crest of Cloudsdale. “This is…”

“Ah, that. I got it from a elementary school trip to the museum. Not that the trip itself was very special, but back then I put it on my bag and there it stayed. I’ve had it for a really long time now,” she hears Rainbow pause. “It… helped me kind of remember where I’m from, even when my family moved all over the place.”

“And you’re giving it to me?”

“I’m entrusting you with it,” Rainbow says. She bites her lip next, shoving her hands in her pockets like she’s nervous. Finally she exhales, “...That badge’s like home to me. So when I see you again, it’ll be like coming home.”

“...Jeez,” Applejack chuckles, lowering her head as the sheer sentiment of it sinks in, a buzzing warmth close to her heart. “Now my gift seems lame in comparison.”

Rainbow cocks an eyebrow. “I gave you a scarf because its colours were vaguely like apples. It really can’t be that bad.”

With a soft laugh, Applejack unbuttons her own satchel and lifts her own gift from inside. She hands it to Rainbow.

It’s a wooden model of a plane, no larger than the size of a single hand. The design is simple, with just a basic fuselage, wings and tail. Still, it had taken Applejack a solid week to create out of ice-cream sticks and white glue.

“...Yeah, I know it’s not that great,” Applejack tries to say as Rainbow stares down at the model in her cradled hands. “I was gonna paint it too, but I ran out of time—”

“—No, it’s wonderful. I love it. Thank you,” Rainbow breathes, turning the model plane about in her hands. She pauses. Applejack realises, as Rainbow looks at it and looks at her, that her eyes are glimmering, trembling. It’s as if the reality of what the next six months will be is only now truly sinking in for her, as it is for Applejack. Yet time and tide can only wait for so long, and Rainbow has really got to get going soon.

Applejack holds out her arms. Rainbow steps into her embrace, leaning against her with her whole body, her thrumming heartbeat quick on her sternum. Applejack hugs Rainbow close, running her hands through waves of spectral hair.

“I’m going to miss you, so much,” Rainbow shivers.

“Me too,” Applejack sighs. “When you get back here, bring the model plane, will ya? I’ll finish it. It’s a promise.”

Sniffling, Rainbow nods and wipes at her eyes as they part. Applejack’s not crying, but her eyes prick anyway.

“Guess I’ll see ya around, RD,” Applejack calls out at last. And when she says that, she believes it. That no matter what obstacle stands in their way, they’ll face it together—and when they’re together, it’s like the entirety of the world lies below their racing feet—things like time and distance just seem so very small.

Rainbow Dash musters a smile.

“See you again,” she rasps. “It’s a promise.”

And oh, Applejack knows she will.