Of Philosophy and Life
The Smile
Sunset Shimmer had often observed during her years in the human world how predisposed humans tended to act towards upcoming special events. It wasn’t that ponies weren’t the type to look forward to a special day, not at all; in many ways pony-kind was even more prone to making an obscure or local holiday go a long way. The difference was in how humans and ponies looked forward to these events.
On the whole, ponies looked forward to any and all events with what could be greatly understated as optimism. A word which does wonders to display just how poorly the English language can be for describing reality. By-and-large all participants, no matter how nervous, showed what humans might consider an unrealistic degree of anticipation and cheer. Nervousness, whilst present, was usually drowned in a saccharine mire of colour and excitement. This was even the case during such events as the Equestria games, when more unheard of towns and villages with little reputation went up against larger and more well-known cities known for their athletic prowess and past victories.
Humans on the other hand seemed to be a little more balanced. The cheer and excitement of one quarter would almost always be balanced out by a smaller but noticeable group that espoused concern and uncertainty. And this group tended to be larger when competition was involved.
The Friendship Games, something Sunset Shimmer had spurned in former years as an unhelpful distraction, was now – thanks to her friends – at the forefront of her mind. She still didn’t think too much of the event, but her friends wanted to do well, and so she felt that she had to do her part.
She had no idea how things were going to progress outside of the standard practise of course: an Academic Decathlon, an Athletic Competition, and Capture the Flag. Sunset would like to think that she and Rarity had the Decathlon handled if it came to her and her friends; Rarity’s grace and Sunset’s intellect were likely up to the challenge, whilst Applejack and Rainbow Dash’s tenacity and inhuman levels of physical prowess seemed up to the second challenge. And if Pinkie Pie couldn’t reality-bend her way through a game of capture the flag, especially if Fluttershy was there to help her, Sunset couldn’t imagine what levels of mind-snapping world-pegging would have to be accomplished to keep Pinkie from remembering there were such things as the laws of physics.
It was outside of the main school building, on a bench near to the road, where Sunset’s interminable focus on this great upcoming event was finally disturbed. Having had nothing else to do since school had ended, she had sat down in the full expectation of simply reading a little before performing a few errands, and then meeting up with her friends at Sugarcube Corner in the evening. Unfortunately, much like her friend Twilight, Sunset had a rather regrettable habit of allowing time to get away from her when it came to studying.
Calmly reading history notes to herself in the time-honoured fashion of remembrance studying, she looked up momentarily to soothe the ache building in her frontal lobe. Glancing up into the sky, noting the distant line of heavy grey clouds, she judged that the ache had died down sufficiently, and looked down again. It was at this moment that she happened to spot a familiar, albeit startling figure.
Aria Blaze, a mobile phone in her hand and her head held low, made her way under the shadow of the line of buildings across the street. Sunset found herself staring, even though Aria didn’t seem to notice her. Perhaps it was just her being in pale darkness, but Sunset thought that Aria’s face looked strangely colourless, even drawn. Her hair was down out of its usual long pigtails, making her look older, less eccentric than she had done before. Sunset half-wondered if it really was Aria at all, but there was no mistaking the colouration. Sunset couldn’t quite make out her expression with her face down, but everything about her made Sunset think... well, she wasn’t really sure what. But it did make her think.
Before Sunset could come to any internal conclusions, Aria disappeared into the divide between a video-game store and a tall office building. Over the next few minutes, Sunset found it impossible to return to her notes; the thought of Aria walking by, after... oh, however long it had been, since she’d seen her or the other sirens, intruded themselves upon her mind. The main problem with this was that as her mind dwelt upon it, her naturally analytical mind led her on to questions and speculation regarding Aria’s appearance:
Where was she going?
Where had she been?
Where were the other sirens?
Was she alright?
Sunset sighed. She put her notes away; there was nothing to be done, she’d have to talk to Aria. If she was able. It had been a good forty seconds or so since Aria had vanished; and another seven seconds until Sunset arrived at the divide between buildings where Aria had last been seen.
“She could have gotten quite far away by now,” Sunset muttered to herself as she came to a square-shaped area of drab concrete in between four tall buildings. “And gone any of these ways.” She looked between the three openings, wondering which one was the more likely for Aria to have taken; she had to admit to herself that the choice wasn’t exactly A, B, or C here.
She was just about to turn back around, resigning herself to her own folly, when she heard the distinct sound of grit tinkling against metal. To her left, attached to the tall office building, was a fire exit ladder, the bottom of which Sunset couldn’t help but notice, was down. She looked up, and just against the solid block of bright blue sky, saw something indistinct move against the edge of the building, like a living shadow. It was gone within a moment, and Sunset couldn’t be sure if the figure had even been a person, let alone the one she was after.
It could have been a bird she thought reasonably. Or a plastic bag. What would Aria even be doing up there?
And besides, climbing up eight storeys just to see if a person she barely knew and had once defeated in a magical battle of musical willpower was up there, registered as just a little unreasonable in Sunset’s mind.
But then, she supposed, what was the harm in looking really? She’d go up, she’d see that she was wrong, and then leave. Simple as that. It’s not like she was afraid of heights.
Indeed, getting up onto the roof wasn’t the hard part. What was difficult was not falling when she got to the top. No sooner had she reached the top, then a brilliant blaze of golden light dazzled her, and almost made her lose her footing. She clutched at the side of the rail, waiting for her eyesight to acclimatise. Then she heard something. She turned her head in the direction of the noise, her ears pricking for a recurrence, although none came. She couldn’t be sure, but sound had been remarkably like an indrawn breath.
Or possibly the wind. The wind was a little sharp, even if it wasn’t particularly strong.
Once Sunset was able to see more clearly, she squinted across the roof. She could see no one; just as she’d expected. There was nothing much; just a generator, a few thin metal chimneys, and a stairwell that presumably led to a maintenance hallway.
She was just about to descend the fire escape again, when just as the wind died down a little, she heard another sound. The distinctive ‘beep!’ noise of a mobile phone.
Cautiously, trying not to disturb the odd bits of debris and pebbles littering the roof, Sunset made her way towards the source of the beeping, which seemed to be coming from behind the stairwell.
Someone has to be behind there, Sunset thought. But why would anyone be up here?
Without quite knowing why she did so, she leaned around the side of the stairwell, feeling absurdly like a child trying to listen in on grownups. And sure enough, there sat Aria, leaning against the wall with her phone in her hand.
“Um...” Sunset said, stepping uneasily into the open. “Hi there?”
Predictably, Aria jumped, and stared at Sunset with eyes all alight with surprise and anger. Sunset half stepped back, wondering belatedly whether or not it was a good idea to disturb Aria at all; it wasn’t as though Aria had any reason to be well disposed towards her. As she watched, Aria’s expression altered from one of shock to one of unmistakable malevolence, but it disappeared almost too quickly to be seen. Finally, it settled into a studied look of indifference, before relaxing into the look of sour boredom that Sunset remembered her wearing most.
“Hey,” she said, looking back down at her phone.
“Yeah, hey,” Sunset replied. She rather wished that Aria had said something more, so that she would have something more to go on. All of the questions that she’d had not long ago had evaporated like morning mist.
“You don’t have to go,” Aria said flatly, still not looking at her. Sunset had been moving slowly backwards as though proposing to leave. “I’m guessing you wanted something, since you followed me up here.”
“Well,” Sunset began, clearing her throat. “Not... that is, I mean... If you’re doing something, I can go. I don’t suppose I’m really someone you want to see.”
Aria shrugged. “Meh.” She patted the spot next to her. “Have a seat.”
Sunset did so, feeling it would be more awkward and impolite to refuse. But she had to admit that she was not in the least bit comfortable. Especially not with Aria sitting silently next to her, apparently absorbed in reading something on her phone. Glancing sideways at her though, Sunset managed to take in Aria’s features properly.
To say that Aria looked unwell did not do justice to just how unhealthy she actually appeared. Her face was pale, the skin grey-tinged as though she rarely saw sunlight, and overall she looked drawn and pinched, like she’d been missing meals. The eyes, once bright purple and sparkling with perpetual disdain, now had a faintly blank look to them. But, Sunset thought gratefully, a few of these things could well be put down to the difference between how she currently looked, and how she looked before. Aria wasn’t wearing nearly as much make-up as she had done in the past, so arguably some of her sickly features could be put down to her lack of cover. Somehow the thought didn’t provide too much comfort.
“So what’s up?” Aria asked.
“Huh?” Sunset said stupidly. “Oh, um... nothing much I guess.”
“Man,” Aria chortled. “Are you, like, afraid of me?”
“What?” Sunset asked, startled. “No! I mean... not afraid, I just—“ She paused and gathered her thoughts. “I just kind of thought you wouldn’t be too pleased to see me, of all people.”
“I’m not,” Aria said baldly, shrugging. She stopped whatever she was doing on her phone, and looked towards the horizon. “You thought I’d be mad at you, or something, right?” Sunset nodded. “Yeah, well, I’m not, okay? So go ahead and say whatever you want to say.”
Whilst what Aria said was very blunt, and not a little impolite, her tone was not adversarial, which encouraged Sunset a little. She sat up a little straighter.
“I saw you on the street just now, and—“ she paused again, feeling a trickle of guilt start in her gut. “I just wondered how you were doing.”
“Fine,” Aria said shortly.
“Just fine?” Sunset prompted.
“Me, personally, yes. I’m fine.”
Sunset gazed at her for a moment. She figured that Aria wasn’t fine, given her increasingly rancorous tone. Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to talk about how she was; that’s fine, Sunset had other questions.
“You haven’t seen us around,” Aria continued after a pause. “That’s not your fault. We disappeared for a bit. That’s just how it is.”
“Oh,” Sunset said. “Okay. So, what have you been up to?”
“Meh,” Aria said again. “Nothing much really. What do you do after a long-time hobby gets taken away? You move on.”
“Move on to what?”
Aria didn’t answer immediately. She seemed to contemplate the horizon for a few moments, watching the sun’s slow progression downwards beyond the rooftops.
“We’re going out of town,” she said eventually, in an altogether more sombre tone.
“You’re all going together?” Sunset inquired. “Are the other two—“
“Adagio and Sonata went on ahead,” Aria said over her. “I had a few things to do first. Things I wanted to try before getting out of here.”
“Oh? Anything you need help with?” Sunset asked, feeling herself on surer ground.
“You’re already helping,” Aria said, smirking. “It’s stupid really, but I never did think about little things for like, the longest time. I kinda figured recently that the little things are what you sometimes remember most.”
“Uh huh...” Sunset said, nodding. She didn’t have the faintest idea what Aria was talking about, but she thought it better to make it seem like she did. Perhaps this showed on her face or in her voice, because Aria nodded towards the skyline.
“Watching a sunset. I never did look properly at a sunset before. Too bad really. I don’t know if it’s just the time of year or something, but I like ‘em. They’re... you know, glow-y. Colourful, and all that.”
“They’re beautiful if you take the time to look,” Sunset agreed.
“Yeah,” Aria nodded. “That’s what I mean.”
“Oh,” Sunset said, cottoning on. “Is that why you’re up here?”
“Guilty.” Aria waved her hands in mock surrender. “Been up here a few times.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why here exactly?” Sunset asked. Some random office building seemed an odd place for Aria to watch the sun setting from.
“Ahh~” Aria began, as though she were being put to some mild inconvenience. “It’s kind of a stupid story.”
“Really? What is it?” Sunset asked, unable to resist a lead-in like that one.
“Nah, you don’t want to hear it.”
“Think I do, actually,” Sunset said, grinning. “Especially since you don't seem to want to tell it..”
Aria rolled her eyes and exhaled, although she ruined the effect slightly by smirking. “I stole some money from this random guy, right? Him and his friend chase me, I run back behind this building, jump for the ladder, pull it back up behind me, and flip him off whilst he shouts that he’ll wait for me to come down. You can’t stay up there forever! and all that crap. I told him to go hump himself, and climbed up here until he got bored.”
“That’s it?” Sunset asked, incredulously. “You got chased up here, and watched the sunset whilst some guy you robbed waited for you to come down?”
“What?” Aria snickered. “Expecting some deep, feeling journey of self-discovery or something?” She took a few moments to snort once or twice. “Yeah, that’s totally me. Regular Aris-bottle here.”
“Aristotle?” Sunset suggested tentatively.
“Whatever.” After a few moments, her smile faded, and she looked back at the sunset. “I mean, there’s no big deal about it really,” she said quietly. “I just figured out I like sunsets, you know? Not you, those ones.” She gestured vaguely at the horizon. “Although I suppose you’re not too bad. So anyway,” she said, cutting off Sunset before she could speak. “Enough about me, I got some questions for you.”
Sunset’s eyebrows shot up into her fringe. “Me? You’re—“ she stopped herself. “Sure, shoot. Whatever you like.”
“Let’s start off with something deeply personal,” Aria said, smirking again. “I gotta know, how did it feel having been that foul shade of red?”
Sunset had suspected the question was going to be something to do with that, and was prepared for it. She had to admit however, that she was a little thrown off balance by how the question was phrased. Then a thought occurred to her.
“How did you know what colour I—“
Aria answered the unfinished question by thrusting her phone into Sunset’s face. Once Sunset’s eyes had adjusted to focus on the screen, she saw what was evidently a badly, or hastily, taken camera-phone photo. A spindly-looking she-demon with fiery hair and blazing turquoise eyes was glaring over its shoulder towards the photographer, orbs of fire erupting in its long-clawed hands.
Sunset blushed. “Oh,” she said feebly. “Well," she continued heavily, giving the question a little thought. "If I had to put it simply, I’d just say that it was painful.”
Aria looked faintly surprised, and looked around at Sunset as though wondering if she’d heard correctly. “Come again?”
“Well, I don’t know if you can tell,” Sunset said, repressing a smile whilst she pointed at the picture on the screen. “But my head was on fire at the time. It hurt, and I could feel it, but I was... I don’t know, too wrapped up in everything to really care. Also growing those wings felt like someone stuck me in the back with a pair of swords.”
“Badass,” Aria commented, a note of what might have been approval in her voice. “Then, like, this rainbow tornado hit you and you just turn all goody-good? That sucks.”
“It wasn’t quite as simple as that,” Sunset said, shuffling a little. “The elements of harmony don’t really turn you good, they just remove evil influences, or suppress negative emotions.”
“Huh,” Aria said, looking back at her phone. “Yeah. Fascinating.”
“Like, someone who actually was evil, it would weaken them as opposed to removing their negative qualities, whereas in regular people they simply—“
“You sound like you know a lot about ‘em,” Aria interrupted in a slightly raised voice.
“Oh, well,” Sunset said a little awkwardly. “Once upon a time, I... well, I was a student of magic, so I studied a lot. The elements are a relatively well known set of legendary objects.”
“Sucks you didn’t read the part about it backfiring and setting your ass on fire,” Aria laughed.
Sunset didn’t reply to this. She was feeling a little uneasy as to whether Aria was being intentionally rude to make her go away, or whether she was just being herself, and the crass language and rudeness was just a part of her personality. Aria seemed to notice Sunset’s silence, and stopped laughing.
“Sorry, it’s... well, I thought it was funny.” She gave Sunset a furtive look. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Sunset replied, not entirely truthfully.
Before she could say anything else, Aria suddenly burst into a fit of hacking coughs. Her fist at her mouth, she leaned forward, her eyes screwed tight. Sunset was so taken aback that she almost stood up.
“Are you alright?” she asked in alarm, reaching out a hand to pat Aria’s back but not quite daring to. It hovered just over Aria’s shoulder as she came to the end of her coughing. “That sounded...” Sunset didn’t finish, unsure of how Aria might take her concern.
Wiping her mouth a little, Aria sat back up, taking a few deep breaths. “No worries, it’s just the time of year. You probably noticed I look like crap.” She gestured at her face.
Sunset naturally opened her mouth to deny that she’d noticed any such thing, but decided at the last moment to make not comment. Instead, to cover the awkward silence, she drew the conversation onwards.
“So, any other questions?”
Aria, who’d taken Sunset’s silence as an opportunity to discreetly clean her hand on her coat, took a moment to consider, and in an uncharacteristically thoughtful tone of voice, asked “Do you ever get homesick?”
Sunset’s awkwardness shattered temporarily as what felt like a sharp chunk of ice wedged itself into her chest. Of all questions, this was not one that she liked to consider. She was honestly greatly torn over the issue, and did not like to be reminded of it on a day-to-day basis.
“Yeah,” she said, hoping that would satisfy her. “Sometimes.”
She looked at Aria, who was giving her a faintly impatient raised eyebrow. She waved a hand for her to go on. “And?”
“And what?”
“What do you miss about it?”
“Can I ask why you want to know?” Sunset inquired, trying desperately to divert the conversation.
Aria’s slight scowl lightened. She glanced at the roof, then down at her phone again. Sunset didn’t know if she was imagining it or not, but it seemed to her that Aria was undergoing some painful internal struggle. It went on for so long that Sunset became concerned that maybe her illness... allergies, or whatever, were getting the better of her again. Aria wiped her eyes and sniffed.
“Hate this time of year,” she muttered, scowling. “I just wondered is all. I’ve not got much left to do, so I just got a lot of time to think about things. I kinda...” she broke off, her lips scrunching up a little. “I thought of... like, coming and talking to one you... rainbow-sorts. No particular reason, just before we left. Say bye and everything. Maybe bury the hatchet or some junk.”
“That’s nice of you,” Sunset said slowly.
“Didn’t you notice?” Aria said, giving Sunset a wry look. “I am nice. I simply reek of niceness. Like your pink friend reeks of frosting.”
“That’s true, she does,” Sunset muttered. “Not to say that you’re not nice and all, but I didn’t think you’d want to see us of all people. Us being the ones who took your powers away and all.”
“You mean you thought I’d hold a grudge.” Aria made a sound of disgust. “It’s funny how it took us losing those fucking rocks for me to realise that they never made us happy,” she said, folding her arms. "They just kept us on the same path, in the same life. Never going anywhere. They could never have made us really happy."
“Didn’t they?” Sunset asked, unable to help herself. “You guys looked plenty happy singing.”
Aria waved a hand dismissively. “The singing was fine, but what we were doing, we were doing that for years. It never got us anywhere, ever. Not like we wanted anyway. No matter how far we got, there was always something higher, better, something else we needed. It was never enough, you know? But you have something like that, and you don’t want to let it go, even if it’d be better if you just got rid of it. Honestly, I’m glad to be moving on from that life.”
“I didn’t know it made you that unhappy,” Sunset remarked quietly. “I suppose I know what you mean though. I spent years waiting for a magical item as powerful as the element of magic to arise.”
“You get what you need to get what you want, you get what you want, you live happy,” Aria said, counting off on her fingers. “Biggest load of crap ever peddled. You know what the problem with it is? It’s not simple. It never is. It sounds simple,” she went on.
“But it’s too specific. To complicated,” Sunset agreed. “I wanted to rule Equestria. I thought it was rightfully mine. I thought Princess Celestia was keeping me from what I should have had all along. But that wouldn’t have been the end of it.”
“Self-entitled much?” Aria asked, her lip curling.
“You’re one to talk,” Sunset snorted. “How did it go? What we have in store, all we want and more.”
“Oh geez,” Aria winced. “It sounds so cheesy, out of context like that.”
“Quite,” Sunset said roguishly. “If only it were in context. Then it’d sound perfectly acceptable and not like three teenagers trying to conquer the world with hypnosis.”
They stared at each other for a moment or two, Aria looking like she couldn’t believe Sunset had the audacity to speak to her like that. Then they both burst into laughter.
“You’re like Adagio-lite,” Aria spluttered, coughing herself back to her normal speaking voice. “It’s too bad we never met, like...” she paused a while, apparently thinking hard. “Actually, I guess this is the only time we could meet like this. I’d have time for you, Sunset Shimmer. Most of your friends are just so disgustingly nice, but you don't have your head so far up your butt.”
“Oh,” Sunset said, nodding, again not entirely sure whether she should take offense to this. “I think you’d get used to them. Or them to you.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Aria said hastily, scowling at herself. “I mean, like, you’re nice and all, but you’re not some—“ She sighed irritably and pushed against the wall as though trying to sink into it. “You’re like... ahh...”
“I think I know what you mean,” Sunset said mercifully. “Thanks. And if it makes you feel better, you’re not nice. Not at all.”
Aria laughed again, suppressing her cough. “Awesome. Thought all this soul-searching junk was taking its toll on my bitchiness.”
“I’d call it sassiness,” Sunset suggested. “Not everyone has to be perfectly good to get along with people.”
“Imagine if you did. Sounds like purgatory,” Aria agreed, her mouth twisting. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I meet some sugar-and-butterflies bunch I want to force to be friends with me.”
“We could be friends,” Sunset suggested. “If you’ve got a spot open, that is.”
Aria smiled, but Sunset detected something a little forced in it. “Maybe one day,” she said wistfully. “If we meet again, I’d be up for whatever.”
“Are you sure you have to leave?” Sunset asked. “You don’t have to go, do you?”
“Adagio and Sonata are waiting for me,” Aria shrugged. “Pain as it is, I can’t get out of this one.”
“Will you ever come back?”
“I have no idea,” Aria replied, her eyes un-focusing a little. “I honestly have no idea. Not sure how these things work.”
Sunset didn’t quite know what she was talking about here, but she nodded. “I suppose none of us do, do we?”
“No,” Aria replied, looking out at the Sunset again. “No, I guess we don’t. It’s a little scary to think about, but the three of us came to terms with it, and decided it was for the best. Keep moving, right? Keep the moss off, or whatever.”
“Right,” Sunset agreed, a little sadly.
With the time that they had spent talking, the sun had declined most of the way beyond the horizon, staining the sky shades of gold, orange, and purple. Looking briefly up, Sunset saw the darker blue of night spreading like ink in water across the sky, marred behind her by the encroaching cloud line.
“Hey, um... Sunset,” Aria said suddenly. “Thanks for... well, stalking me I guess.”
Sunset spluttered in protestation. “I-I wasn’t stalking you!”
“No, I mean,” Aria sighed. “Look, I’m just trying to say thanks for... like, being here. Talking to me. I...” She squirmed a little for a few more seconds, and then abruptly, she thrust out her hand. Sunset looked at it, bemused, until she read the intent. She took it.
“Do you want my mobile number?” Sunset asked, letting go of the hand. Aria’s attempt to thank her for the talk they’d had didn’t go unfelt by Sunset; she was honestly kind of touched by it. Especially given how hard it seemed to be for Aria to say it. “If you’re going away, we can still stay in contact.”
Aria looked down at her phone. “Yeah,” she said, so quietly it might have been to herself. “I could work with that.”
Reading Sunset’s number off her phone, Aria typed it in and called. “Thanks,” Sunset said, “A-R-I-A...” she muttered, typing in the name. “Is that Blaze, like fire? Or Blaise, like, B-L-A-I—“
“Like fire,” Aria interrupted. “Z and everything.”
“Oh, okay,” Sunset said, clicking her phone off. “Just didn’t want to mislabel you.”
Aria shrugged. “It’s getting kind of late,” she remarked. “Shouldn’t you be going home?”
“Actually I’m meeting my friends... in ten minutes, actually,” she said, looking at her phone. “That’s timing for you.”
“Well there you go,” Aria said. “You’d best get going then.”
“Aren’t you—“ She stopped. She’d been about to ask if Aria was leaving as well, but she couldn’t think of a way to make it not sound like she was asking Aria if she wanted to come with her in some way. Aria had declined her offer of friendship until a later date; she couldn’t be offering for her to come to meet her friends... could she?
“I’m going to stay here a little longer,” Aria replied, leaning back carelessly with her arms behind her head. “I’ve got a little longer before I actually have to leave. Take care of yourself, Sunset Shimmer. I... I hope we see each other again... in the future.”
“Yeah,” Sunset replied, getting up and smiling. “I’m sure we will. It’s been good talking to you.”
Aria raised a hand in lazy acknowledgement of this, and then went back to staring out at the skyline.
Sunset arrived at Sugarcube Corner full of the buoyed feelings of her talk with Aria. She had honestly not expected talking to Aria to have gone nearly as well as it had done; despite her evident awkwardness in opening up, Aria had responded positively to Sunset’s attempts to extend the olive branch, and Sunset was honestly happily anticipating future communications with Aria. Asking her about where she lived, what she and the other sirens were doing, if she made other friends. And on top of that, it had been her, Sunset, who had done it!
“I might not be so bad at this friendship thing as I thought,” she said cheerfully.
Sunset had had her friends for a short while now, and knew all of the joys that having friends brought, but this new connection filled her with the happy anticipation of a new friendship, something uncertain and in need of exploration. She grinned to herself as she pushed open the glass doors, looking down at her phone screen at Aria’s name and number before stuffing it quickly into her pocket.
Strictly speaking she was a few minutes late; she had taken the more scenic route to the cafe and didn’t walk quickly in order to savour the warmth of her insides before telling her friends about it. Her tardiness however, shouldn’t have produced the gloom that lay distinctly across the table where her friends sat. Sunset’s mood and smile descended upon the instant.
“Hi guys,” she said uncertainly. “Um... sorry I’m late?” She gave a light, faltering laugh.
Her friends didn’t say anything to this attempt to lighten the mood. Most of them kept their eyes lowered, and Applejack and Rarity only managed to lift their long enough to give Sunset the most fleeting of glances before being sucked back down into the mire.
“Um...” Sunset began, trying to find something to say.
“The usual, dear?” Mrs. Cake asked, appearing at Sunset’s elbow. “I’ll bring it right over.” She gave Sunset a conciliatory sort of smile and a pat on the shoulder.
Sunset was starting to get seriously weirded out here.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?” she asked, sitting down.
The question brought about a determined round of not-answering, in addition to Pinkie Pie, who had been looking like an overfull water balloon since Sunset had arrived at the table, suddenly bursting forth in loud sobs, deluging the table in a spray of tears.
“I don’t suppose that you’ll have heard,” Rarity started. It sounded as though it was hard for her to get the words out.
“Heard what?” Sunset asked. “You all look like someone’s died.”
To Sunset’s horror, this made everyone around the table exchange frightened glances, and Pinkie Pie to erupt into a fresh wave of loud crying.
“Sunset, dear,” Rarity said soothingly. “We only heard after school... but it seems that... well,” she began.
“Two of the sirens turned up,” Applejack said curtly. “They’re, um... they passed.”
“Passed?” Sunset repeated weakly, feeling a plummeting in her gut. “Y-You mean they’re—“ She looked around at them all, hoping for one of them to grin, or laugh, or shout “Gotcha!”. When no one did, she looked down at the tabletop, allowing the fact to wash over her.
“How did it happen?” she asked faintly.
Applejack shrugged, her hat slightly obscuring her face. “Dunno. Granny Smith saw it on the news, and Rarity saw it online.”
“Coach heard about it too,” Rainbow Dash said, sounding like she had a hairy cough. “Thought I knew them, so he told me after...” She seized her drink and drank the milkshake in several rough gulps.
“The report was a little early, but it said the police believed they died of natural causes,” Rarity explained.
“Granny told me the TV report said they had an illness,” Applejack added. “We ain’t seen ‘em in so long, I gotta admit I... kinda forgot about ‘em.”
“We didn’t look after them at all,” Fluttershy squeaked, sniffling.
“Th-There’s nothing that can make this better!” Pinkie Pie wailed, face-planting the table and muffling her loud sobbing.
Sunset sat for a long moment, digesting all of this.
We’re going out of town. Adagio and Sonata went on ahead. I had a few things to do first. Things I wanted to try before getting out of here.
“Oh god, no...”
Sunset did not hear her friends. She did not notice Rarity’s look of shock, nor Applejack’s colloquial exclamation, nor Rainbow Dash’s jolt in her chair. She barely comprehended Mrs. Cake’s presence as she dashed by the cafe owner, almost knocking the beverage she held from her hands. If it hadn’t stood directly in her way, she might not have noticed the door either. As things stood, she practically crashed through the doors like a madwoman, hurtling off down the street.
“Oh...” Mrs. Cake said faintly, once she’d gotten over her surprise. “I-I had her drink, and...” As she looked over the silent table, the rest of her sentence died on her lips.
The city streets were plagued with people, the pedestrians that lined the pavements forming obstacles. Sunset paid them no heed; she sprinted by them, dodging around arms, barely avoiding shoulders, swinging her leg away from a child or two meandering across her path. Her lungs protested, her throat tore as she gasped for air, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon as though it were a cosmic timepiece.
It’s not too late! she thought. It is not still too late.
A part of her wished it was true; another wondered what she meant. Too late to save Aria? What sort of wild presumption was that? But what kind of person would she be if she did not try?
Why would she not say something? Why would she lie?
The building stood out from its usual obscurity in the approaching night; a black edifice, like an enormous tombstone, reaching up out of the street, its windows like faded words reflecting off its surface. The sky darkened even as Sunset ran, apparently mocking her haste as time seemed to speed up around her.
She’s probably not even there. Why would she linger on a roof alone?
“Alone,” Sunset gasped, reaching the entrance to the divide. She bolted for the rear of the building, her lungs on fire and her legs becoming heavy. With a grunt she lifted herself up the ladder, and began the laborious climb. She felt a drop of cold hit her head.
She ascended another floor. Another drop.
Another set of steps traversed, her legs shaking with the effort. Three drops.
By the time she laid a trembling hand on the cold, concrete edge of the roof, the rain was beginning to fall in a light drizzle.
Her breast heaving, she pulled herself around the side of the stairs. “A-Aria!”
Sunset’s violently beating heart leapt. There she was, seated against the side as before, staring up at the sky.
She’s still here!
Sunset staggered over, half-laughing as she dragged in breath after breath. Her trembling legs gave way slightly, making her fall to one knee as she took several hasty steps forward.
“Aria... you’re still *kaff*... you’re here.”
Aria said nothing; perhaps she couldn’t hear Sunset’s weakened voice over the pattering rain. Sunset reached out, intending to touch her shoulder, to rouse her.
“Aria, you’re—“ Sunset gasped and recoiled as she touched Aria’s shoulder. With a limp little wobble, Aria’s head fell to one side. Overbalanced, her body fell with a mundane thud to the floor.
Sunset knelt, breathing hard, horrified.
After a few moments, she tentatively extended two trembling fingers, and touched them to Aria’s exposed neck. The skin was clammy, and cold... and devoid of any pulse whatsoever.
The rain began to fall in earnest.
Sunset could do nothing but sit and stare, the rain drowning out all sounds around, so that it seemed to her that nothing but she existed, nothing but her, and the roof around; a lone little island in the void. With her body immobile, her eyes roved across Aria, focusing on little details: The dried blood on her left hand, and the side of her jacket. The glazed, opaque look of her purple eyes. But what was most curious of all, was the oddly peaceful look on her face. It almost looked to Sunset like the ghost of a smile.
Sunset felt trickles of wetness run down her face. Whether it was rain or something else, she didn’t know. She didn’t much care. Her pulsing and desperate insides had given over to an emptiness that was being slowly filled with something heavy, and brittle, like sand. All she could do was kneel there, letting her feelings loose. It didn’t matter up here; what were the thoughts of other people compared to this?
This!
This shouldn’t have happened. Sunset knew it; it should not have happened. She should have seen something, realised, understood what was happening. It was her fault, all her fault that Aria was here, alone in the darkness and rain.
She pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment, sniffing loudly to try to steady herself. Reaching over, she pulled Aria upright, and with as delicate a touch as she could, closed her eyes. A small sound interrupted the noise of the rain; the sound of plastic hitting concrete. Looking down, Sunset saw Aria’s mobile phone next to her knee.
The screen illuminated when Sunset picked it up, apparently sensing motion. On the screen was a half-formed text message.
“Sunset Shimmer,” Sunset read, looking at the send information.
Hey.
Just sendin this, cuz im bad at
mushy gunk. Thanks for staying
with me. It actually made it easier
for me to leave. Just couldn’t say
it to ya. Sending this just incase.
Guess Ill see ya when I se—
“I got it,” Sunset breathed, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand. She set the mobile back down into Aria hand, and sat down in the rain. “You didn’t have to say it.”