The Age of Extremely Overpriced Sanitizer
It was with some reluctance and a bit of trepidation that Corona Sheen rose from her bed on Monday morning. The light of the sun filtering into her apartment somehow carried a note of foreboding despite it being the same clear weather as yesterday outside. The foreboding, then, was probably in her head. And probably a result of recent news throwing the world's largest monkey wrench into her continued existence.
With a half-yawn, half-sigh, Corona trudged over to the bathroom to set about performing her typical hygiene ritual. She did her business, showered, brushed her teeth, and quickly ran a brush through her grey mane and azure coat until both were presentable. Though she shuddered at the prospect of discovering what state Canterlot was in at this point, she nevertheless grabbed her stuff and ventured outside. The School for Gifted Unicorns waited for no mare, virus or no virus, and if she wanted to be like the princess someday, she had to keep doing her best to learn.
The shining stone streets of the city, she found, were even quieter now than they'd been over the past few weeks. What few ponies were on the move did so with urgency in their steps, avoiding eye contact and keeping their distance from one another. A lack of any slow-moving groups of obnoxious, fraternizing nobles to cause traffic stalls on the narrower thoroughfares was the sole perk in all of this nonsense.
Still, she couldn't avoid the necessities, and did still need to eat, so Corona stopped at her favorite bakery for breakfast, intending to pick up a freshly made, whole grain roll. The bell on the door dinged softly as she pushed it open with her magic. Warm, enticing scents reached her nose, alongside the sight of one of the other regulars. The proprietor, a pegasus with a talent for moisture and temperature regulation named Dew Point, had her back turned as she adjusted the dials on one of her multiple ovens.
Glancing back over her shoulder at Corona, the regular tensed up in recognition. "O-Oh, Ms. Sheen," she noted, already beginning to shuffle anxiously in the direction of the entrance. "You know what, I'm suddenly not hungry anymore. I'm just gonna flee now, if that's alright."
Without waiting for her to respond, the mare booked it out of there, nearly tripping over her own hooves as she made her escape. Corona, for her part, bit back a snide remark, settling into a small frown. Patience, girl, patience. This would all blow over eventually.
When Dew Point finished what she was doing and turned to face Corona, she waved hello. "Morning, Dew," she said, giggling at her own wordplay. "I'll take my us—"
"GET OUT!" Dew Point screamed, chucking a whisk at Corona's head which she barely managed to duck in time, gasping. It probably wouldn't have done more than bruise, but still, sweet Celestia! "I'm not letting you cost me any more business," she declared. "I don't care if you're here to buy anymore, I can't have Patient Zero keep showing up in my bakery in broad daylight!"
Great annoyance burned behind her horn as Corona verbally defended herself. Though she was tempted to fire off a stink bomb spell out of spite. "Can I honestly not just get a roll? I'm Corona Sheen, not Coronavirus, and I'm obviously not sick either."
"OUT!" she shouted again, this time hurling a storm of empty egg cartons. Rolling her eyes as she allowed the paperboard to bounce off her body, Corona turned to leave, flicking her tail in agitation. Guess she was getting breakfast at the Jenny's; that diner chain couldn't care less about sanitation.
After her greasy meal, which was probably more of a danger to her long-term health than this stupid virus was, Corona resumed her commute to CSGU. As she trotted towards campus along her usual route, she passed another commotion inside one of the longstanding local shops in her neighborhood: Masonry, Toilet Paper, & Shears. Through the windows, a desperate looking lady in a dress was trying to tug the last set of white rolls from the grip of an irate earth stallion with her aura, the pair straining against eachother as they shouted. The shopkeeper was trying to break them up, to no avail.
"I've got seventeen kids at home, we need this more than you do!" the stallion exclaimed.
"Lies! Nopony has that many children!" the mare fired back. "I only have a two month supply of tissue in reserve, I need more!"
"Cut the horseapples," he gasped, clutching onto the package for dear life, "How is that much not enough! And I was here first!"
"Peasants always come second! Just put your foals in diapers, or whatnot!"
Corona tsked at the maddened display, shaking her head as she continued past. What was the point in even fighting over toilet paper? It's not like the city was going to run out; the virus didn't even cause diarrhea! Plus, wet wipes were so much better anyway.
When Corona Sheen finally arrived at the lecture hall where her class on Applied Arcanodynamics was held, the sight before her was a familiar one. Well, at first. Her fellow college students were chatting amongst themselves as they waited for the professor to arrive, spaced evenly around the curving rows of wooden seats. But then, the first of them noticed her enter, and cried out in alarm.
It took only seconds for a wave of silence to fall upon her peers, the unicorns rapidly and without exception scooting towards the side walls as far as they could, bunched together. With a theatrical sigh, Corona plopped down into her usual seat near the middle of the hall, which was now surrounded on all sides by a giant, empty space. She shot looks of disapproval around the room; even her friends had fled. "Really, guys?"
"Sorry, it's nothing personal," replied her pal Glittershock, who may not remain such for much longer. She leveled a fearful look at Corona, her yellow mane even more frayed than usual. "We just don't want to die, is all!"
Corona slammed her saddlebags on the floor with perhaps more force than was necessary, shooting a glare in return. "Just because I happen to share the same name as the virus doesn't mean I have it! The definitions being used for the word aren't even the same! We're all well-educated, here; you should know better. My name is referencing moonlight, and the virus is called that because it's covered in crown-shaped spikes. Completely separate!"
It was like they hadn't even heard her. "P-Please don't come near us!" insisted a shivering colt Corona didn't know. "I have so much to live for!"
Others nodded in agreement, conveying similar sentiments and begging to retain their health. If these ponies were so afraid of getting sick, Corona reasoned, why did they even bother coming to class? Wait, never mind, she knew why: grades.
Still, she shouldn't have to put up with this. All she needed to do was made them see reason, and how hard could that be? "Now you all listen here! For one thing, the coronavirus hasn't even gotten to Canterlot yet. The closest confirmed case is that Apple Family mare in Ponyville! And even then, less than five percent of those infected even die from it."
"But it could get here any second!" wailed somepony behind her.
"It's ten times worse than the flu, and my friend's uncle died from the flu!" exclaimed another.
"They're calling it a pandemic now and everything!" went a third.
Corona slapped a hoof to her forehead. "You're overreacting! Come on, look at the numbers! Even in the Kirin Lands, where this all started, only a tiny fraction of the population got sick. More ponies get devoured by monsters every week than have been killed by this virus in three months. And even then it's mainly the elderly who are at risk."
"That's exactly what somepony with the virus would say to maintain their relationships in the face of isolation! Well, we're not buying it! Go crawl back into your muck-hole, contaminated filth!" The angry stallion who insulted her then pointed forcefully at the exit.
Okay, seriously? Corona Sheen was beginning to get quite exasperated now, practically snorting in anger. "Why are you all going into total panic mode over THIS? A trio of literal demons rampaged through the city and blew up half the castle just last year, but now is when everypony goes crazy?"
"Well, yeah, but Princess Twilight beat them all before, so we knew it wasn't the end of the world. This is a brand new danger, one we don't know can be contained. I'm not taking any chances!" Glittershock explained, thus demoting herself to passing acquaintance.
Corona tilted her head back and groaned, realizing this was clearly a lost cause. She would definitely go give that one prince a piece of her mind once this whole thing blew over. However, before she could break into a rant about how paranoid and stupid her classmates were all being, a new, firm voice cut through the air. "Settle down, now."
It was Professor Flame Crest, his ever-stoic face and distinctive green mane a welcome sight in her darkest hour. As the others quieted down, he walked up to the chalkboard, glancing around and taking a deep breath before addressing the assembled students. "Due to the current health crisis, all classes at CSGU will be suspended starting—"
"—tomorrow," he finished, now only addressing Corona Sheen and two large clouds of dust that slowly settled to either side of her, the sound of galloping hooves fading into the distance. "Hmm," he uttered.
She surveyed the mostly abandoned hall for a moment, stunned by the uncanny speed the rest of the unicorns had been hiding, before facing the professor again, unsure what to say. Should she make some pithy statement about listening to other ponies? Shout obscenities at their backs? Pretend this whole day never happened, let the events fade into the back of her mind?
Flame Crest blinked up at her, mulling over his own words. "Sorry about them. Do you want some one-on-one instruction, Corona?" he eventually asked. "I should have enough time to walk you through four, maybe five exercises."
Huh. Maybe this whole debacle wasn't so bad after all, if she had the full attention of the most handsome academic on staff for an entire hour. Corona shrugged, wearing a small smile. "Sure."