After four years of a magically-induced coma, Flash Sentry wakes up with a petite feminine body. Feeling lost and alone, the young boi seeks answers, ultimately finding joy (and benefits) in the company of a gorgeous woman and her handsome husband.
On one fateful day near graduation from Canterlot High School, a magical mishap knocked Flash Sentry unconscious. After four years, he awakes from his coma to discover that his body is a lot smaller... a lot sissier... ... and a great deal more feminine than it used to be. The whole experience leaves Flash feeling lost and confused, and most of his friends and family have left the boi long behind. Thankfully, Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle take Flash in as their roommate, but even with their improved magical abilities they find themselves at a loss to reach out to him.
Eventually, Flash Sentry's salvation comes in a living embodiment of pastel colors and exquisite beauty. He runs into Mi Amore Cadenza: now Principal of Crystal Prep Academy. The boi immediately falls head over heels for Cadance's beauty, kindness, and professionalism--and he finds himself flabbergasted when she asks him to become her personal office assistant on campus. Now with a beacon of warmth and joy in his life, Flash begins the long felicitous road towards accepting who and what he's become.
But the road doesn't end anytime soon. It's lined with flowers far more colorful and fragrant than he could ever have dreamed of. Sooner than later, Flash's new life turns out to be a bit more... enchanting as Cadance and her handsome husband Shining Armor slowly turn the boi onto accepting other discoveries--many that he's only bound to enjoy as much as they do.
As it turns out, being a sissy isn't all that terrible a life. It comes with its own fair share of felicity.
Tags: Fembois, Feminization, Crossdressing, Sissification Accompanied By Emotional Fulfillment, Polyamory, Bisexuality, Age Difference, Seduction, and eventual Pet Play.
Note: This, like most of my train wrecks, is yet another attempted exercise in long-form crossdressing/feminization fantasy writing. It is not meant to be taken seriously. If you're going to emotionally support someone ten years younger than you, it is very highly suggested that you don't seduce them into being a submissive sex pet at the same time. Don't ask me why; just doesn't seem conducive to positive Yelp reviews. This is just a written fantasy setting up consensual threesome funtimes. Characters are 18+ because I prefer my soap *not* on a rope. There isn't a "Porn" tag for this fic because the current plan is to continue the more *explicit* stuff in future installments.
In the beginning was the Pink and the Pink was with Flash Sentry and the Pink was Flash Sentry.
In his tumbling dreams, the Pink persisted. Flash couldn't put a face or a form to it. There was only a feeling: that of a warm hug. Toasty and tender. With kisses and fragrant breaths.
Yes—there was a smell to it too. Lavender. Baby powder. Cotton candy. All things fluffy and sweet.
Flash loved it and feared it. Loved it for the nebulous joy that tickled his heart. Feared it for the risk of being spoiled by so much unnameable beauty and comfort.
He wasn't alone with the Pink. There was a framework to it. Two halves. Two pairs of arms that encircled him. Shackled him. Suckled him. Pierced him.
Pleasure. Pain. Pink.
There was a name. To all of them. A him. A her. A hyphen in between.
There existed a Holy Trinity within the Pink, but Flash Sentry didn't know where to kneel and pray.
He had fleeting thoughts. Chance visions. Feather-light brushes with lips and laughter and lamentations. Every time he tried to meditate and turn the whole measure into something concrete, it would shatter and shake him back to the surface.
So he settled for floating within the shadow. Within the glitter. Within the blissful haze of the Pink.
For to dabble too deeply—to remove himself so far from... himself...
It would only remind him that none of it was real.
Flash was almost there. He could nearly feel it this time. He was almost floating within the Pink. Like an ocean that he had leapt into from a wayward ship thrown off course. The depths tickled his feet. Like the laced hems of endless petticoats. He considered diving deep. He was about to commit to taking the plunge.
But just as he took his deepest breath yet...
...the bubble burst. The resulting clap came in rhythmic thunder, echoing off the door to his bedroom.
The young man's blue eyes fluttered open. A gray ceiling of a gray room loomed over his gray bedsheets.
The knocking resumed. Accompanied by a voice—a voice he adored and loathed to hear all at once: "Flash? Let's get up, sweetie. I mean it this time."
Flash grumbled as angrily as he could. The breath that came out of him was wispy and soft—which only made him angrier. He grasped his pillow and wrapped it around his fair blue head before turning over and mushing his face into the plain gray mattress.
"I gave you fair warning an hour ago. You'd better be wearing something~"
"Go. Away." Flash grumbled into the bed's dense bed-ness. Once more, he sounded wispy, frail, ineffectual.
"Wrong answer." There was the tell-tale click of the doorknob unlocking from the outside.
Flash clenched his teeth, cursing the fact that there was more than one key to go around.
A door opened, slicing a swath of morning light into Flash's domain. Like a supernova filling up a thimble. A curvaceous sihloutte strolled in. Tall. Womanly. Graceful.
"So this is what a grave looks like." Flash heard her marching across the sparsely-decorated would-be sepulcher. "Doesn't smell too bad, all things considered. You should be proud of that, at least."
"Have you no respect for the dead?" Flash muttered into the pillow cover.
"Nice try, bucko." He could practically feel her wink through all the gray and shadow. "But you're hardly dead. Not on my watch, at least." He heard the ruffle of curtains, and his body flinched, dreading the inevitable. "Now, how about an experiment in photosynthesis, ya stick in the mud."
"Don't—!" He squeaked. Like a desperate kitten.
But it was too late. The blacker-than-black curtains were parted like the Red Sea. The room exploded with sunlight, revealing a tender lump of twenty-two year old boi-flesh curling in a fetal position beneath a flimsy layer of bedcovers. He scuffled in futility away from the bright, burning light—as if it might melt his tender flesh at any moment.
"Well, will you look at that?" The tall buxom roommate turned around. As the burning fog of existence melted to normalcy, the squinting boi in bed could make out Sunset Shimmer standing tall and proud with her hands on her hips. Her smile was almost as bright as the murderous sunrise outside, but it was ever so slightly tempered by an all-permeating smokiness that hung off every sexy square inch of her features. "It's a beautiful day! Or some other U2 song. Whatever. You're getting your butt out of that bed and that's final." She approached the bed. "You've been holed up in here for days... weeks?... I dunno how long. Doesn't matter. It ends today."
"Hissssssssss," Flash Sentry responded.
"Cute." In one swift motion, Sunset Shimmer reached over and—FWOOSH—yanked all of the sheets off the bed within a blink.
Flash's petite body shivered, exposed to the blinding light in all its flimsy glory. Tender toes curled and hairless legs shifted beneath the folds of an enormous t-shirt that dwarfed his figure. He eventually sat up with a disgruntled sigh, glaring blearily across the bedroom. His expression could snipe pigeons from a mile away.
"I know what you're thinking." Sunset Shimmer waved a "naughty" finger, smirking. "But I don't think you can get away with that kind of murder and not get the death penalty."
"I know places where I can bury you," Flash rasped.
"Yeah, well, good luck picking up a shovel, Hercules."
"Meh."
"No more laming the clock." Sunset gestured, marching towards the bedroom entrance. "There's a CHS Soccer Game in about an hour. The girls' sisters are playing, and we're gonna go there and show them some good, friendly support."
"That's it?" Flash rubbed one eye, looking both disgruntled and confused. "A junior high sportsball thingy?"
"Remember—Flash—they're high schoolers now. But I guess I can forgive you for that. Not all of your bed-riddenness has been by choice." Her turquoise eyes narrowed. "But I'll be damned if you drag your ass for another minute."
"Mrmmfff..." Flash remained seated obstinately on the bed. "You can't make me go."
"No. But Applejack can. In a stretcher." Sunset stuck her tongue out and marched out. "Or—I could always mind control you into going."
"You wouldn't dare..."
"How else am I gonna get you to do the dishes these days?" Sunset let out a laugh. "Now go fetch one of your own shirts and get washed up already."
"But I am wearing one of my own shirts," Flash muttered. "From before the blackout, remember?"
He heard her footsteps scuffling to a stop against carpet. "Oh..." Her voice was momentarily bereft of enthusiasm, sprinkled with an ounce of guilt. Also pity. Flash instantly felt bad to have summoned that out of her, but he also knew that Sunset Shimmer was a strong woman. Sure enough, she rocketed back into a fiery tone: "Well, put on some of that crap Rainbow grabbed from the thrift store a month ago and hop to it."
"Won't Rarity have a problem with that?"
"I'm trying to get you out of the house, Flash. We'll discuss torture another time. Now get wet!"
She had left the room, but the sunlight remained. It's as if her orbit was enough to blaze a blinding trail, and Flash could no longer find any shadows to hide in. Which is precisely what she intended.
He sighed.
It took several swinging and shimmying motions, but Flash finally scooted his supple posterior to the side of the bed. Seated there, his feet dangled without touching the floor. He had to give the mattress a light shove—like emerging from a paratrooper's airplane—in order to fully exit.
Thap! His tender feet struck the carpet far later than he desired. Weathering the jolt of the dismount through his system, he padded lightly across the room and into the rest of the apartment beyond. As he moved foggily through the domain—teetering left and right—he became aware of a lavender shape seated in the dining room beside the kitchen. The scent of eggs and coffee tickled his nose, and he saw sunlight glinting off a pair of thick-framed glasses.
"Good morning, Flash~" Twilight Sparkle said. "So nice to see you up and about this early~"
"No it isn't," Flash muttered.
A giggle echoed between them, and his peripheral vision rippled with the college woman's smile. "What have Sunset and I said about having a positive attitude, Flash?"
"You'll have to tell me at the next brainwashing session," the boi muttered, fumbling his way in search of the bathroom door.
"Well, that will have to wait," Twilight said in a coy tone. There was the ruffle of textbook pages, and she scribbled across two separate sheets ambidexterously while levitating her coffee cup closer with the power of her geode. "This morning's timeslot is going to be filled with teenagers kicking a ball across a field. So maybe it's torture for us both for once."
Sunset Shimmer wandered in from the kitchen with a plate of bacon. "You mind repeating that?"
"Pfft." Twilight rolled her four eyes. "Like it'd make a difference, Professor X." She leaned up towards Sunset Shimmer just in time for—
"Mwah!" Sunset pecked her girlfriend on the lips before placing the plate down. "Here. Quick. Before Spike wakes up and eats it."
"Wow! Smells really good!"
"It'd better be." Sunset Shimmer sat next to her at the table. "I just sliced it off my bangs two minutes ago."
"Heeheehee..." Twilight's voice hushed as Flash found his way into the bathroom. The boi left the door cracked ever-so-slightly open, lingering with his ear aimed towards the rest of the apartment. Sure enough, Twilight continued speaking—quietly—as if just to Sunset alone. "You... uh... you sure that this is a good idea? Pushing him like this, I mean...?"
"Twi, it's been months. We can't let him stay holed up in this place forever."
"Considering what he's been through, Sunny, isn't it understandable that he... needs more time?"
"He's already missed so much from the blackout. I can't stand to let him miss anymore."
"Well... I suppose you know him the best."
"Hard not to. For example, I know that he's listening to everything we say right now even though he thinks we can't notice him."
"You hear that, Flash?!" Twilight's voice echoed across the room. "Our resident telepath caught you again!"
Flash sighed. Finally—he closed the door.
"That's much better," a voice chimed delicately in his head. Flash could swear he smelled Sunset's spicy perfume, and the moment he thought that—he could hear his former high school girlfriend chuckling knowingly from halfway across the apartment.
With a defeated breath, Flash flicked on the bathroom light and faced the mirror. A petite specimen of smooth porcelain youth looked right back. Pristine blue eyes blinked under a bleary expression. Shiny azure hair tried its damnedest to look disorderly and cowlicked—but somehow its shine persisted in the morning light that crept in through every pocket of that place.
How might someone label the entity in the mirror? An Adonis? A cherub? A seraphim beauty of nebulous yet provocative androgyny?
One thing was for certain: the reflection was someone Flash no longer recognized. Coming to grips with it was confusing, taxing, and a strain on everything he had grown up to be... or shrunk to be.
With a meager grunt, the boi gripped the edges of his enormous-but-not-enormous shirt. He lifted it front-first—like a woman. He didn't understand why, but the method came naturally.
The sight to follow in the mirror didn't: a smooth and hairless chest. Slightly pronounced nipples, rosy and tender. A narrow waist that subtly accentuated his hips. He wore stupidly juvenile-looking boxers with the Batman logo plastered all over. It was the only thing at the department store that could easily fit him. The man—if anyone could still call Flash such—was barely scaling past five feet in height. This was a literal medical impossibility: in his sophomore year, he was the tallest in his class. But all of that changed.
Right after he woke from the blackout.
When it came time to strip for a shower, Flash looked away from the reflection. Everything about him was smaller, and that was the hardest to come to grips with. Or perhaps softest.
Life—for all of its magical mishaps and carnival chaos—had somehow decided to play the ultimate practical joke on Flash Sentry. His only way of dealing was to drown himself in shadows, but the female friends who had taken him into their apartment weren't set on letting him do that forever.
So—drowning in shower water was the next best thing. Flash knew he couldn't cherish the diversion forever. There was no escaping both a telepath and a telekinetick. The inevitable doom of a high school soccer game was in his future—along with all the haunting faces he knew would accompany it.
"Bring it on, universe," Flash grumbled—his voice as annoyingly soft as his body. He pigeon-stepped into the shower stall and twisted the faucet. "What's the worst you can throw at me at this point?"
"Don't forget to shampoo that beautiful hair of yours," a certain redhead's voice pierced his mind amidst the shower droplets.
Flash gnashed his teeth. Two venomous words rocketed through his brain.
"Whoah there, sailor! A girl can take a clue!" The tickle of mental invasion slowly faded. "But seriously, though. Do a little conditioner as well. You know how much it makes Fluttershy happy to smell the stuff."
"Mrmmffff..." Flash slowly reached for the bottle...
The low hum of Twilight Sparkle's sports car as it cruised through the suburbs was intoxicating. Sleep-inducing.
Flash felt inescapably drowsy—despite the fact that he had been sequestered to a pitch black bedroom for Nietzsche knows how long. Slumped in the backseat, the boi leaned a bored chin against a bored fist and stared at the boring scenery blurring past the window with bored eyes.
Up ahead, the fiery bangs of Sunset Shimmer and the slick purple threads of Twilight Sparkle peaked above the front seats. All was dead silent—save for the ethereal semblance of wind chimes as Twilight adjusted the air conditioning dials via geode telekinesis.
Flash blinked. Slowly. He was clad in a baggy pair of sweatpants and an even baggier sweatjacket. The hoodie hung darkly over his head like some ascetic monk's veil. It mimicked—albeit imperfectly—the long sought shadows of his room. No matter how he juggled the moment, there simply was no shaking the sunlight that stabbed his eyes at every second.
So he sighed. And so he shifted. And so his eyes trailed off, bouncing across random billboards and signs and advertisements sprinkled across the municipal fringes of Canterlot City. He saw movie posters—sequels to series he never even knew existed. There were faces of politicians he had never heard of. The registration tags of adjacent cars had numbers that chilled him to the core. The more he saw—the more Flash wished he didn't see, and he found his gaze wandering back inwards...
"Hmmm-hmmm-hmmmmmm~"
And that's when his eyes brushed across short purple hair with furry green highlights. Next to where Flash sat—positioned squarely in the rear center of the car—was a plush child seat. But instead of housing a child, it housed—
"How you holdin' up there, Flash?" asked Spike the regular dog. His tiny paws stretched out awkwardly in front of him, courtesy of the way the pup was restrained. He nevertheless gave a panting smile. "Hey...dig the swell hoodie!."
"Mrmmmmmmmmmmmffff," Flash Sentry mrmmmmmmmmmmmffff'd. He chose to look out the window again.
The girls' car turned perpendicular to the rising sun, and Spike's smiling muzzle reflected annoyingly across the window. "So what have you been up to in your room as of late?"
"Mrmmm..." Flash exhaled. "Nothing."
"Kewl! I do nothing all the time!" Spike's canine eyebrows waggled. "Sometimes with squirrels."
"Uh huh."
"But this is exciting! Isn't it?"
"Uh huh."
His tail wagged, thump-thump-thumping against the inner lining of the child's seat. "We're gonna get to see the whole gang again! It'll just be like old times! I mean... I guess they wouldn't be all that old for you."
Flash's jaw clenched. His eyes burned hot dagger-traces into the trees and building faces gliding past them. "Uh... huh..."
In the driver's seat, Twilight fidgeted slightly. "Hey... uh... Spike! Let's not talk much about... y'know—"
But nevertheless, the dog persisted: "Gosh... everyone has grown so much since high school! Crazy, isn't it?"
"Mrmmmmm... uh huh."
"Not me, of course. Cuz I'm a dog. But, you know what I mean."
"Spike~" Twilight sing-songed, smiling nervously into the rear mirror. "Little buddy~"
"But Fluttershy... Applejack... Pinkie Pie... whew!" Spike beamed. "They've all shot up like skyscrapers! I mean... I'm used to only seeing all of our friends at ankle-level, but now it's like they gotta talk loudly for my pup ears to hear them!" He panted and panted, grinning at the passenger beside him. "So—who do you look forward to seeing the most? Rainbow Dash? Trixie? Derpy Hooves?"
"... ... ...Yes." Flash exhaled.
"Me? I'm looking forward to seeing Rarity again." With a bit of struggle, Spike licked his paw and used it to slick one fuzzy ear back, suavely. "Last time we met, she gave me belly scratches for days! Hot dog—that was the best!" He winked. "Wouldn't you love belly rubs?"
"Mrmmmmm..."
"I mean—just look at you! You're tiny as all heck these days! I bet even Rarity could lift you up in her arms as well—"
The car jerked slightly in its lane. Twilight's chattering teeth could be seen in the rear mirror. "Spiiiiiiike~!"
"What?" The pup shrugged his front paws. "Nothing wrong with being tiny and adorable—"
"Spike, shut the Hell up!" Sunset Shimmer's voice thundered through the tiny car interior.
"Mmmmp!" Spike whimpered, his limbs and tail curling inwardly as he winced.
"Sunset!" Twilight sputtered. "Don't use that tone with him—!"
"Why not?!" Sunset fumed. "He's being a friggin' dumbass and nothing you say seems to get through—"
"It's called being considerate! He's my lifelong pal, and as someone who's taught me everything that there is to know about friendship, I figured you would temper yourself more—"
"This isn't just some friendship-lesson-of-the-week scenario, Twilight! Flash has gone through a lot of shit and we don't need your proverbial little brother rocking the boat—"
"Spike was just trying to be nice and conversational! It's not his fault that your ex-boyfriend's such an emo stick in the mud!"
"For crying out loud! Stop calling him my 'ex-boyfriend!' It's been years, Twilight! Years!"
"Shhhhhh!"
"What—why are you sushing me—?"
"Do you even hear yourself?! Stop talking so much about the time's that passed! Hrmmf! And you tell me that Spike is insensitive!"
"Oh for the love of Celestia, I was just trying to say—"
"You want to sleep on the couch tonight? Again?!"
"Okay, now you're the one being too damned sensitive!"
"Yeah? And just what makes you the expert? And don't say 'my geode!'"
"Hey! Gals!" Spike hollered. "Stop fighting! Come onnnn! You're better than this!"
"Spike, butt out of this."
"Gassssp! Don't talk to him that way!"
"You need to put a leesh on him one of these days!"
"Never! Oh my gawwwd! How could you suggest such a thing?!"
"I'm not getting into this with you again, Twilight, you can't just let him—"
"BARK BARK BARK BARK!"
"Rrrrrrnggggh..." Flash—in the meantime—gripped his head through the hoodie like a vice and stared thirstily at the objects outside the car. "Please slam head-on into a semi truck... please slam head-on into a semi truck... pleeeease..."
Several families and soccer mom caravans had already arrived at the recreational fields along the west end of Canterlot City. Here—in the shadow of the mountainous countryside, the full brunt of the morning sun illuminated every square surface of suburban acreage. Multiple cars, trucks, and minivans were parked along the outer grass bands that flanked the warm-up sandlots. Scores of middle school and high school youths in bright uniforms sprinted back and forth, kicking practice balls up down... left right... from side to side with more or less professional ease. The air was full of chatter, laughter, and ponytails. There wasn't a single damned drop of testosterone within sight.
This was the scene that two girlfriends and their petite roommate shuffled up to, minutes after parking. As they approached the bleachers, gaggle of healthy young women turned to see them. In the center of the group was Rarity—grasping a parasol and looking fabulously overdressed for the morning occasion. She immediately gasped and waved happily at the approaching group.
"Oh Sunset~! Twilight~! Yoohoo!" Rarity walked in heels through the grass to greet the couple. "So glad you could join us, darlings!"
"Hey Sunset. Twi." Rainbow Dash—decked out in slim athletic wear and a dangling P.E. whistle from her neck—marched to the front of the group. "What's up?"
"Not gonna lie," Fluttershy began, holding her skirt in place as a brisk morning wind kicked at her long pink threads. "It's not often we see you getting up this early in the day."
"Y'all seem brighty and bushy-tail'd, regardless." Applejack smirked with her hands on her hips. "Didja have a nice ride here?"
"Nice... quiet ride!" Sunset Shimmer added, also twitching. "No reason why it wouldn't be a smooth trip!"
"None whatsoever!" Twilight squeaked.
"Damn straight!"
"... ... ..." Applejack raised an eyebrow. "... ... ...well, alrighty, then." She pointed vaguely towards the grass lanes between soccer fields behind them. "Rainbow's got the young'n's warmin' up for the big game. Since they ain't kickin' off until the second match frame, y'all should have plenty of time to say hello."
"Sounds great!" Sunset coughed delicately and put on a bright smile. "How's... uh... how's Scootaloo been holding up?"
"Pffft! Are you kidding?" Rainbow Dash smirked slyly. "That little scamp's been kickin' everyone's ass all season!"
"Rainbow..." Fluttershy chided.
"What?" the athletic woman's voice cracked as she shrugged. "I'm not in front of the kids right now! I can make like a sailor!"
"Doesn't mean you have to," Fluttershy added with a rolling of her eyes. When they settled in place, it was reflecting a petite figure twice over. A delicate gasp escaped the fair lady's lips, sprinkled with a layer of sincere joy. "Oh gosh!" She leaned over somewhat—which only highlighted the height difference between herself and the person she was seeing. "Is that who I think it is?"
"Well, I'll be!" Applejack folded her arms. In the past few years, she had grown quite a bit of muscle as well as height. She had cut her hair short—almost pixie length—but the freckles from teenagehood still remained. "Look who crawled out of the apartment for once!"
"Applejack..." Sunset side-hissed.
"Gotta hand it to ya, Miss Shimmer! It's one heck of an accomplishment!" Applejack coughed, then narrowed her green eyes at the redhead. "Y'all didn't use mind control or nothin', did ya?"
"Oh?" Rarity crept forward. Just like Fluttershy, she too had to lean over to see the "stranger's" face more clearly. "And just who might be this adorable specimen of fantabulous livelihood—?"
"Here I am, Rarity!" Spike yipped, leaping full force at the woman's torso.
"Ooomf!" Rarity winced, teetering backwards on her heels as she fumbled to juggle both the purple-hair'd dog and the heft of her parasol. "Ehm... eheheh... why—yes! Of course! G-good to see you too, Spike!"
"Actions speak louder than words!" Spike barked, then cocked his furry head aside. "The ears! The ears!" Almost immediately, a well-manicured set of fingers humored him, scratching liberally behind his left ear. The canine's left leg shook as his eyes rolled back. "Ohhhhhh yeah."
"B-but I was referring—of course—to our resident knight in shining armor!" Rarity beamed, looking again at the figure dragged up behind Twilight and Sunset. "Why, hello there, handsome!" She opened her mouth... blinked... then bore a disturbed expression. "My stars and garters! What in God's name are you wearing—??"
"Flassssh! Buddy!" Rainbow Dash hopped over with a grinning expression. "You've got the clothes I got you months ago! Awesome!" Unlike the rest of the women, Rainbow hadn't quite enjoyed the same growth spurt. Nevertheless, this still put her over a half-foot taller than the boi before her. "What's up, dude?"
"All of you, apparently," Flash muttered.
Twilight and Sunset winced.
"It's so nice seeing you out and about, Flash!" Fluttershy shone with a mothery smile. She clasped her hands together. "We've had you in our hearts and minds every day since you finally woke up. Just how's the recovery process going, hmmm?"
"Mmmmm... that depends..." Flash Sentry adjusted his hood over his dull face and looked halfway towards her. "As of yet, my roommates won't let me near any rope or a strong tree branch."
Twilight and Sunset winced again.
"Oh... uhm..." Flutterhy twiddled her fingers, looking away from the blowing wind. A nervous redness inched across her fair features. "That's... uhhhh..."
"Heyyyyyy! Dark humor!" Rainbow Dash rasped, smirking devilishly. "Last time we saw him, he was quieter than Vinyl Scratch! If you ask me, that's one hell of an improvement! Right, Flashie, ol' pal?!" With that said, she lightly slapped Flash across the back.
"Ooomf!" The frail boy fell hard to his knees.
"Rainbow!" Rarity gasped.
"Oh fuck!" Rainbow winced all over.
"Rainbow!" Fluttershy chided again.
"I mean—shit! Er... th-that is... m-my bad..." Rainbow inched backwards, clenching her teeth with a pale expression. "...fuck me."
"Careful there, partner..." Applejack reached a hand down to help him up. "...gotta take it easy on them legs."
"I got it..." Flash muttered, fumbling with dainty limbs.
"'Cuz—right as rain—four years of magical snoozin' can't be easy on—"
"I said I got it!" Flash snarled, attempting to bat her hand away. Making the swift contact with the muscular woman's only knocked himself completely onto his rump. "Oomf!" The redness on his face rivaled Fluttershy's, and he took his sweet time in standing up completely.
"Hmmmm..." Applejack leaned back, trying to keep from frowning. "Land's sakes..." She scratched her scalp with a tired expression. "...maybe y'all shoulda brought him to a boxin' match instead."
"Hahahahahah—" Twilight Sparkle tried to seize control of the "conversation," stepping forward and grinning plastically. "Good joke, Applejack!" She spun her head towards Sunset, leaning in and whispering hoarsely: "Itoldyouthiswasabadidea—"
"Telepathic voice, Twi—?" Sunset began—
"HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!!!" A bouncy, big-boned beauty suddenly leapt in from behind, hanging off both women's shoulders. "Sunny! Twily!" Blue eyes blinked brightly. "... ... ...what are we laughing about?!"
"Hiya, Pinkie Pie!" Spike waved a paw from where he slumped in Rarity's arms. "Got any of those big chocolate bones for me?"
"Pffft..." Rainbow Dash snorted, leaning over to elbow Applejack. "It kills me whenever he says that."
"You betcha, Spikey-Wikey!" Pinkie Pie beamed—still hanging off of Twilight and Applejack. "And I've got cinammon sticks for Dashie!" She swung back and forth, urged on by the pendulous weight of her mommy-hips. "Licorice for Twilight! Angel food cake for Sunset! Then there's plenty of apple cider for all the Wondercolts—but Applejack could tell ya about that. I just finished putting together the refreshment table with Cheese Sandwich and—" By now, her dancing blue eyes had fallen on Flash. "Oh! Hi there, lil' cutie!" She giggle-snorted and waved. "Thanks for showing up to the big game day! You here to watch or compete?!"
"Ooooh! I know! She's gotta be one of Sweetie Belle's friends!" Pinkie Pie beamed. "Because she looks just so dang cuuuuuuuuuuute!" The frazzled-hair'd woman made a duck face. "Are you a junior just like Rare-Rare's lister sister? Or about to graduate from sophomore—?"
"Pinkie, it's Flash!" Rainbow Dash growled as the rest of the women fidgeted awkwardly.
"Duaaaah?" Pinkie blinked at her.
"It's Flash Sentry," Rainbow pointed at the petite boi in sweatclothes. "Been rooming with Twilight and Sunset for the past few months since waking up. Remember?"
"... ... ..." Pinkie tilted her head aside. "... ... ...you mean... Sunset and Twilight adopted a girl with the same name as Sunset's high school boyfriend?!" She jumped over and grasped Rainbow's shoulders, shaking. "Why didn't somebody tell me?! I could have thrown an adoption party!!!"
"Gul-darn it, Pinkie..." Applejack facepalmed.
"Rnnnngh..." In a frustrated huff, Flash drew his hood tighter over his head and marched off. "I'll be by the bleachers," he grunted.
Wincing, the women watched him stroll off. Twilight and Sunset exchanged worried glances.
Pinkie Pie remained frozen in place, her hands on Rainbow's shoulders. Her glazed blue eyes continued to reflect Flash's exit. "... ... ...so—is she on Sweetie Belle's team, or...?"
Rainbow sighed and shoved Pinkie.
"Aaaaugh!" Pinkie fell in a fuzzy pink heap. "Oomf! Hey! The grass is so springy! Heeheehee!"
"Oh dear..." Rarity cupped a hand to her cheek. "...this is going to be a lot more delicate than I thought."
"Uhm..." The purple dog in the fashionista's grasp stirred restlessly. "...still waiting on that big chocolate bone..."
"Fits like a glove, see??" Scootaloo—grown into an athletic teenage high schooler—smirked and posed while flexing her lower body. "Well... that is... if people wore gloves on their feet. But... y'know what I mean!"
"Wow..." Twilight Sparkle smiled, standing between playing fields before the girl while cradling Spike in her arms. "You've mastered so much balance, too! You should be very proud of yourself, Scootaloo."
Spike's canine eyes squinted at Scootaloo's lower half. "Isn't it curved the wrong way?"
"Spike!" Twilight seethed.
"Hah hah hah! No, it's cool." Scootaloo waved a hand, then lifted her lower left leg—or what remained of it. "Running blades are shaped this way cuz they work better." She traced an outline of the prosthetic with her fingers, balanced on her good remaining foot. "I swear, I've run faster with this thing than before the operation."
"No doubt thanks to all of your excellent training," Twilight said.
"Sure, I guess. A lot of the credit goes to Rainbow Dash." Scootaloo hopped in place, grinning. "She's been with me every step of the way. Literally. Nowadays?! I'm fit as a fiddle! Check it!" She held her breath, bent low, flexed, and backflipped with the greatest of ease. "Haaaaa!" She posed on the grass, upright and smirking. "Ta-daaaaa!"
"Hey squirt!" Rainbow's voice cracked from the sidelines. "Save it for gymnastics! Don't be cracking your skull open on my watch!"
Scootaloo hollered back. "Awwww come on, coach! I landed it!"
"I know and it was awesome—but don't you get me fired! Stick to the soccer-ing!"
Scootaloo turned and shrugged at Twilight. "Sometimes I think there's no escape."
"She cares a lot about you," Twilight said with a nod. "But you should be giving yourself most of the credit."
"Yeah—that's what everybody tells me." Scootaloo snaked aside and dribbled a soccer ball over. She proceeded to juggle it up and down with her good foot. "But I really truly couldn't have done this all on my own. Personally, I try not to over-analyze it. Just keep running, y'know? Enjoy the world in fast forward so one doesn't go bonkers."
"Can you even kick the ball with that thing?" Spike asked.
"Well, funny you should ask that." Scootaloo winked at the dog. "Everyone expects me to be a middleback—cuz being on offense seems silly. I'm happy to play midfield and support my team. But—when the opposing side least expects it—I like to pull out a trick from friggin' nowhere. Watch—" Holding her breath, Scootaloo dribbled the ball up high, spun, and slapped it mercilessly with the side of her prosthetic.
The ball went sailing over the heads of many girls who were practicing. A few from other schools gasped in wonder. Many of Scootaloo's fellow teammates clapped and showed her thumbs up.
"Hah!" Scootaloo swiped sweat from her brow and posed proudly. "That always catches the opposition's fullbacks off guard!"
"Really snazzy stuff!" Spike beamed. He looked up at Twilight. "Say—could I get metal paws like that?"
"I dunno, Spike." Twilight smirked. "Keep ripping up Sunset's magazines and you just might get an opportunity."
A round of chuckles issued from that particular patch of field. Flash Sentry observed it—as he had happened to observe the entire conversation—from where he lingered on the northernmost edge of the bleachers. Pretending to be unassuming, he rested his back against the terraced framework with his hands dug into his hoodie.
With a contemplative sigh, the boi turned... moving to resume his lethargic "rounds" of walking around the spectator portion of the fields. At that moment, a gust of wind blew at his figure—knocking his hood back and exposing his silky blue hair. Wincing, the young man reached up in order to straighten the article—
"Oh hey! There you are!" a familiar, youthful drawl sang in his direction.
Flash winced... but pulled himself together in time to politely face the author of that voice.
Apple Bloom strolled up in a comfortably-fitting soccer jersey and shorts. She wasn't alone. Sweetie Belle was with her as well. Time had been kind to the two young women. Apple Bloom was fit with a muscular tone—like a miniature version of her sister. Sweetie Belle, in the meantime, had morphed into a God-damned supermodel. All of these details were fascinating and worthy of close analysis, but for Flash Sentry—all that mattered is that they were barely eighteen years old and already they were significantly taller than him.
"AJ mentioned that you might be stoppin' on by!" Apple Bloom beamed. "I must say it's mighty nice havin' ya on the sidelines to cheer us on!"
"Mmmmm..." Flash tried to temper his words carefully, remembering Scootaloo's tenacious countenance. "Thanks. Uhm..." He tried to give a thumb's up, but his fingers sorta lingered there in mid-air between them. "...good ball... kicking?"
"Well, we haven't hard our first game yet. But the next two sessions will have us sweatin' somethin' good against them Shadowbolts from Crystal Prep!" Apple Bloom winked with a smile. "Should be a slobberknocker for the ages! Hope it looks nearly half as good from the bleachers!"
"Yeah..." Flash muttered, squirming slightly in place. "...sure."
"You drove in with Twilight and Sunset?" Sweetie Belle asked. It had been ages since Flash heard her talk, and all of the squeakiness in Rarity's little sister had long evaporated.
"Uh huh."
"Is it true that you live with them now?"
Flash squinted. "Uh... huh...?"
"Heh..." Sweetie Belle's smile was slightly sultry. "That must be one heck of a dream come true."
"Sweetie Belle...!" Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. "For apples' sakes...!"
"Don't pretend that it isn't!" Sweetie Belle smiled at her friend and teammate. "You remember what it was like—back in the day! With the likes of Rumble, Pip, and Featherweight all gawkin' at Sunset between class periods! Shoot, Snips and Snails were her little toadies for a short time and they bragged about it for years!"
"That was ages ago..."
"Even still, I'd say you're a lucky dude, Flash." Sweetie leaned over—and even with such a dramatic gesture she couldn't bring her eyes to level with the boi. "Hey... uh... is it true that the two of them do it floating?"
"Sweetie Belle!" Apple Bloom gasped.
"Don't tell me you've never thought of it!" Sweetie Belle chuckled. "What—with Twilight's geode and all?!"
"You shoulda joined the Canterlot High School bowling league!" Apple Bloom frowned. "Cuz yer mind's always in the gutter!"
"I bet the mind reading goes a long way too." Sweetie Belle suppressed a giggle. "Got the scoop on that, Flash?" A beat. "Flash...?"
The young man had taken the first opportunity to sneak off across the fields.
"Well, now you gone and done it, Sweetie Belle!" Apple Bloom folded her arms with a huff. "AJ kept tellin' me to be on eggshells around him! And now he's done skedaddle!"
"I'm sorry, Apple Bloom."
"No you ain't! Land's sakes—I miss the days when you were puny and adorable!"
"Hey, I'm still adorable!" Sweetie Belle looked around. "But really—though—do you think they float when they do it?"
Apple Bloom looked over her shoulder, then her other shoulder. Finally, she leaned in towards her tall friend: "Reckon they had a 'zero-g' bedroom for it—but sacrificed it to let Flash in."
"Heeheehee! Talk about a sacrifice!"
"I know, right! Now git! We gotta check up on Scoots."
"Awwwwwww... but she only makes us look bad!"
"Humility goes a long way!"
"If you say so!"
As the two girls scampered off to join their teammates, Flash stood—hidden—behind a port-a-potty. He waited until they were long out of sight. Then, with a melancholic sigh, he lumbered off to find an even more unassuming spot along the fields.
The first CHS game kicked off, and already the Crusaders' team were kicking butt. They scored two goals in the first five minutes. Because of course they did. This didn't diminish the uproarious amount of cheer and praise that the girls' older siblings and their friends gave for the rest of the match. The entire stand of bleachers was a cacophonous wave of enthusiasm and support—with Applejack and Pinkie Pie hollering the loudest. Rainbow Dash sprinted up and down the sidelines, shouting encouragement and tiny jabs to her prized athletes. The air over the fields was positively electric.
Flash Sentry sat dull and dumb through most of it. He wasn't sour over the fact that everyone else appeared to be enjoying themselves. He simply didn't feel much one way or another. A part of him was grateful—he supposed—that Sunset and Twilight were having so much fun. But for the most part he lingered on his lonesome, far and away on the barest fringes of the spectator seating, doing his best not to pollute the waters with his dispassionate malaise.
The match was really, truly no contest. Everyone who came to support CHS had countless reasons to smile. Flash could barely muster up a smirk. The entire time, he couldn't stop thinking about Scootaloo. About how she had struggled so hard and for so long with complications concerning bone marrow. He hadn't been around to witness it, but from what he learned—she had been battling for almost the full extent of his "absence." In the end, she had ultimately perservered, and now she had even overcome the unthinkable losses she had suffered to come out on top as an inspiring athlete and a supportive friend to her closest companions.
All that Flash went through—or so little that he had gone through—seemed so paltry and harmless in comparison. Who was he to be such an abhorrent stick in the mud while true champions like Scootaloo leapt hurdles over their castrophes and kept on running for the golden horizon?
And then when the likes of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle show up—they seem so non-plussed at Flash Sentry's situation. If only he could see through their eyes—without being so sorry over himself—at just how secure and better off he was... in spite of everything. In spite of what he felt he lost, but still couldn't compare to the likes of Scootaloo. Or who knows how many others in this world truly suffered without a hope in sight, but still perservered?
So it was—in very little time and without and planning it—that Flash endured the vicious cycle yet again. His self-pity morphed back into guilt. He couldn't stop thinking about all the opportunities Sunset and Twilight had given him to come out of his shell and make something out of his life and see the sunlight or reconnect with old friends.
But he kept pushing back against them. Just as he kept pushing back against himself. Why? Why did he insist on wasting away on a self-imposed prison? If he thought hard about it, what happened to him wasn't that terrible. It could have been worse. He could have been suffering from cancer or being completely ostracized by friends as well as family. But, the fact of the matter was, he wasn't alone. Others had taken him in. Grace had been extended—a grace he didn't deserve. And all he gave back as a show of thanks was apathy. A cold shoulder. Silence and perpetual "emo-kid" gloominess. He should have been better than that. He was an adult, for Christ's sake.
But he barely felt like one. Scarcely resembled one. And when the last sighs of the day were all exhausted, Flash was reminded of one consistently numbing fact:
He never asked for any of this.
So why did he still feel so guilty?
The first match ended. There was no rest for the weary—and CHS found themselves up against another team from the next school district over. It was grueling to play two matches back to back, but somehow Flash didn't doubt for a second that Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and their teammates would endure. Once the kickoff began, he skulked off... resuming his pacing in a solitary slump. Nobody said anything. Either they had given up on trying to corall him to one spot or they simply stopped caring. Perhaps both. In any case, it was fine by Flash. He thought the most while on the move—for better or for worse.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he had been forced to endure a day of sunlight after all. He rarely allowed himself moments like this anymore: of being able to walk around, to ponder, to see other human beings living lives he'd never comprehend but nevertheless have a chance to reflect on.
This was meant to be the most crucial years of his life. He was barely past twenty. College beckoned, and Flash still had to get his career in order. The others had long moved on without him. Rarity had gotten an early start in owning and running her own fashion boutique. Pinkie Pie worked at her foster parents' bakery while Applejack inherited the family farm. Rainbow Dash was head soccer coach at CHS; Fluttershy managed the local humane society. Even his roommates were busy people: Twilight Sparkle interned at a science lab while Sunset Shimmer worked with the Princess of Equestria from beyond the portal to study magical phenomena on their side of the plane. There were even days when it felt like Spike had more important things to do than Flash.
But as for Mr. Sentry himself... he had made no attempts to pick up the pieces of his life. He may not have been a telepath like Sunset, but he knew—he somehow knew that she was getting tired of his lazy, self-loathing bullshit. How many months in a row did he spend holed up in his room with the lights out, bingeing streaming services and wishing that yesterday would come back to him? And it's not like he didn't have opportunities to apply himself. Even if it was barely a year since the blackout ended, he could have already started looking into scholarships and trying to aim his life down a valuable career. More than once, the girls tried sweet-talking him into picking up the guitar again and joining some band or attempting to perform somewhere. But Flash knew that they were simply trying to break the ice. Their smiles were sincere, but their aim wasn't. His hopelessness was impenetrable, and each time they tried dragging him back to the surface, his heart pained for their patient sacrifice.
Flash felt like such a pestilential virus in that apartment. He wasn't there for when Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle finally got together. In many ways, he wish he was—for he truly was proud of them and would have loved to show his support. By this time, however, if he gave them words of encouragement, it would only come across as patronizing. He had already become too set in his depressive ways, and all the friends he once knew couldn't see past his melancholy. There were times when he wished he could salvage things, but in the end he was... comfortable with the distance that had been wedged between them and him. It gave him breathing room... for weathering the sheer patheticness of who he was and how empty his future looked.
And in the back of his head there was this gnawing sensation that he couldn't explain to anyone even if he wanted to. Despite the bad luck that he had endured and all of the glorious moments in life he had missed without asking for it...
He still felt that it was all his fault. It would certainly help to understand it all... if he could remember anything.
But nobody could help him with that. So there he was—and there he looped—around and around in a vicious cycle. And the most he could accomplish in life so far was to be poor Sunset's and Twilight's ball and chain.
It was around the fifth lethargic stroll around the fields that he passed by the bleachers again—and in so doing he came within earshot of his two roommates and their closest friends. The second match was also a no-contest scenario for the CHS' girls' victory. So much of the cheering had died down, save for a few whistles and hoots every now and then. Instead, the older siblings and their companions took the opportunity to catch up with one another. Flash was passing behind the bleachers, so nobody took notice of him. Even Sunset—for all her telepathic skill—appeared distracted when once again in the presence of beloved friends. Thus, Flash was able to listen in a bit... for what it was worth.
"To be honest, we're no closer to figuring out a solution than we were four years ago right after the spell struck," Sunset could be heard saying. "You have to remember. Flash took the full brunt of it. The rest of the magic channeled into the spell was... greatly diminished before impacting the others. That's why they recovered so quickly."
"And they didn't de-age or nothin'," Applejack said. "Right?"
"Erm. No. But remember, Applejack—Flash didn't get any younger. It might look a bit like that, but..."
"Flashie just got all teeny-tiny!" Pinkie Pie barked. "And cuddable too!"
"Trust me," Twilight Sparkle could be heard. "Flash Sentry does not cuddle."
"Can't say that I blame the feller," Applejack said. "It's an awful lot to go through! And to be down for the count for four years on top of that?! Heck—I once woke up from an apple cider binge and only two days had flown by! Two days! Y'know how much farm work I missed out on in that time period?! It was devastatin'! I can't even begin to imagine what losin' four years would do to a person!"
"If that happened to me," Fluttershy murmured. "I wouldn't know what to do with myself. It's no wonder that Flash is taking so long to recover."
"Still, y'all are doin' somethin' mighty fine, lettin' him share a room'n'such," Applejack said. "I know I've thrown it out there before, but there're plenty of sleepin' spots for guests in the ol' farmhouse. Y'know... uhm... if it gets a bit too overbearin'..."
"Flash is our friend, Applejack. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not about to treat the matter like it's a burden."
"I'm just sayin'..."
"You should take Applejack on her offer, Sunny-bun!" Pinkie squeaked. "I mean... heck... I love Flashie just as much as the next girl, but talk about the cream of the sad-sack crop!"
"Pinkie..."
"Well?! Am I wrong?!"
"Flash just..." Twilight exhaled long and hard. "...needs time."
"Like how much time?"
"More time, I guess."
"Well, if you ask me, fate's not been too entirely cruel to our beloved Flash," Rarity's voice said melodically. "Have you taken a good look at that face? Such bright blue eyes! Such shiny hair! Even those luscious lashes! Yes yes—four years missed is quite the travesty, but look at who's emerged on the other side! Why—I daresay in some ways I envy Flash! She's become quite the dazzling little model! I bet even my sister would be jealous—"
"Rarity!" Fluttershyg asped.
"What??"
"You just misgendered him again!" Fluttershy's voice took on a curiously heated tone. "You did this the last time we talked about Flash!"
"I'm sorry, darlings! It's just she—he is so utterly adorable nowadays! Surely I can't be the only woman who realizes this?"
"Boys can be adorable too, Rarity!" Pinkie Pie said.
"Pinkie Pie, he's not a boy," Sunset droned. "He's twenty-two."
"... ... ...men can be adorable too!"
"Unghhhh..." Flash could see Sunset rubbing her head through the bleacher seats below.
"Yes yes..." Rarity purred. "But adorable women do it better~"
"Listen, that's not the point," Twilight insisted. Flash could sense her resting a hand on her stressed girlfriend's shoulder. "What matters is..." Another sigh. "Flash is unhappy with what that magic spell did to him ages ago. And—from the looks of it—nothing appears to be changing... and nothing can be changed. For all of my scientific labwork studies and for all of Sunset Shimmer's support from the Princess in Equestria, we... we really just don't know how to help him!"
"No offense to you and Sunset, Twilight, but maybe Flash just needs... a bit more variety in where he gets his help," Fluttershy said.
"You mean like from you?" Rarity giggled lightly. "You'd just want to hug and cuddle her nonstop—er—him."
Fluttershy ignored that last statement. "I was thinking someone like Rainbow Dash." All heads turned towards their beloved coach at a distance. "She's the most inspirational woman I know. She knows how to pull anyone from the pits. I mean—look at what good she's done for Scootaloo!"
"The best person who helped Scootaloo was Scootaloo," Twilight said. "And not to diminish what she's gone through, but she wasn't zapped with an irreversible magic spell..."
"Well, Rainbow's got one thing going for her!" Pinkie piped up. "She's the shortest of the bunch!"
Silence.
"Meaning, she's a lot closer to Flashie's level—"
"We get it, Pinkie," Sunset groaned. "And it wasn't funny the first time."
"Hrmmfff..." Pinkie slumped with a pout. "Well, anybody else got any bright ideas?"
"No. We really don't." Twilight leaned into her girlfriend, her voice taking on a melancholic tone. "And... to be real with you girls...? I'm starting to get worried about his future..."
The bleachers had taken on a solemn silence at this point, a long and far cry from the enthusiastic cheer and applause that had accompanied the soccer matches just minutes previous. Even without trying, Flash had somehow managed to sour an entire get-together. It soon got quiet enough that the resident telepath could reach out and sense eavesdropping strangers with her mind. But by the time she could—however—Flash had long gone. He had practically jogged away from the scene. It was the only effort he could concentrate on to keep himself from crying.
There were a lot of strange and inexplicable things that Flash Sentry found himself having to endure since waking up from his blackout. One of the oddest ones was an ever-increasing sensation—more like a gnawing habit—to simply... sit down somewhere and cry.
Flash Sentry had always prouded himself on being strong, resolute, and emotionally stable. That was nearly half-a-decade ago, however, when he was considerably more... manly, to put it lightly. True, in high school Flash wasn't quite as meatheaded as many of his fellow friends, and he certainly didn't deny himself a certain "softness" which he indulged in privately. Flash was always a romantic at heart, and he longed to someday be the supportive rock upon which another... far fairer person could depend on. He had long dreamed of someday becoming the perfect husband, holding his lover close and drying their tears with his patience and ever-loving kindness.
These days were much... much different. He didn't even have to be stressed out or traumatized or shouted at. On the drop of a dime—without much warning or cause—he'd simply feel the need to curl up in a ball and... weep. At first, he thought it was simply depression. But it occurred to Flash that he ultimately felt better after having himself "a good cry." Depressed people, for all Flash presumed, failed to feel anything. And for all of Flash's woes and all of his moping about, he still had some nebulous thing in the back of his mind to shake a fist at.
Only he couldn't. While Flash could manage to be bitchy, he simply failed at being mean... or aggressive... or outright angry. It was as if the tender softness that once hovered quiet and intimate and secret in the center of his being had spread to every extremity over four years of oozing unconsciousness. Now he was all feathers and fluff, as weak on the inside as he was on the outside. He had no strength or spine for shouting at the universe, so he settled for imploding inward instead. The result was that every bit of his essence—that which was sweet as well as that which was sour—was forcibly squeezed out in regular cycles. It was as if Flash's outer shell was too porous and gossamer-thin to hold any of the passions within, so he simply had to release... multiple times in a single week.
This worked well for when he was in bed... or in the shower... or locked up in the dark of his room—which he had conveniently arranged for himself as often as possible. Oftentimes, it would come without warning. He'd feel the pit forming in his throat. Then his eyes would inescapably tear up. And then the hiccups and the sobs would come and he'd have no recourse but to curl up into a tender little ball, hugging a pillow to his chest as he let the emotion melt its dauntless course through him. In a few minutes—very rarely an hour—he'd be spent, and a tiny flutter of energy would motivate him into the closest thing that resembled purpose. It very rarely happened in public—much less broad daylight.
Except—it was happening now. Out in the open. An open field, with the noon day sun creeping blindly overhead and catching his sobbing face at all angles.
He kept as quiet as he could, hoisting his hood over his head and face and tears and just... praying the cascade would complete itself. He lingered in this lonesome fight for far longer than he wanted to. For half an hour, he had sequestered himself away from the others, hoping to endure the tearful exorcism on his lonesome. On the southwest edge of the field—bordering a fenced-off intersection—there was the tiniest smattering of trees. Two trunks had fallen over at some point—likely due to a heavy thunderstorm that had blown through months ago. Cleanup crews had never gotten to clearing the debris, or perhaps the city simply didn't care. In any case, a smattering of overturned foliage allowed Flash a place to perch, partially obscured by the rest of the field, with a touch of shade above to keep sweat from mixing with the tears.
Flash loathed the lack of control he suffered in his life. He was powerless to gain back the years he had lost in the blackout... or the flesh and muscle that he had unwittingly sacrificed in the same span of time. All of his fuss and his angsty seclusion and his mopey day-long naps in the shadows of his bedroom were at least functions of agency—where he had very little other recourse to prove that he owned himself. There was—of course—the ever-prodding need to get a job or pursue a college education or start a career... but where he was uninspired, he was also weak.
After all... what good would he be in the adult world when he would inevitably break down at any random moment? Furthermore... how dependable could he be when his body and spirit were barely capable of staying upright much less supporting others?
Flash once was a man-in-the-making. He was bold... he was dashing... he was brave and charismatic and strong-willed. But now? He was hardly even one fourth of a man. If anything—at his best—Flash Sentry was a damned sissy.
Sunset and Twilight had done so very much for him—and were willing to lend so much more. But he never gave them the respect they deserved, because if he actually tried to make a difference, he was convinced he would fail them. The path he was taking—even if it was no path at all—felt like the better recourse. But it was hard to hold much faith in that notion when people like Scootaloo had gone through so much worse and still came out ahead of the curve. It felt veritably poisonous that the friends he once knew treated him with just as much love and support as they treated Scootaloo. What did Flash deserve, after all? What had he possiblyearned after so many years of aimless waste and wankery?
Nothing. He had earned nothing—for he was nothing. After a collapse he didn't ask for, he inherited an existence he didn't understand. Save for one gleaming certainty: he was somehow convinced that—one way or another—his current state of being was ultimately his fault. And every time he tried to rationalize why, he loathed himself for trying to make excuses. He should have been angry; he should have been outraged. But instead, all he felt... was the need to cry.
And so he did. Helplessly and shamelessly. With Nietzsche knows how many women—young and old—witnessing the pathetic display from their distant soccer games. What a stupidly sad damper he was on a hapless crowd enjoying a beautiful day.
He truly... sincerely was a sissy. And like all good sissies, all he could do was hope and pray for someone—anyone—to come rescue him—
"Hey there, sweetie..."
Her voice was like honey to the ear drums.
The second thing Flash sensed was a spicy floral scent. Like lilacs sprinkled with cinammon. It made him gasp—and it wasn't from a choked sob for once.
Slowly, his head tilted upwards. He peered out from the veil of his hoodie, scanning the horizon for danger. Instead, the person he found turned out to be purely divine in every conceivable way.
She had light fuchsia skin: soft, bordering on bubblegum pink.
Her eyes contained a royal violet sheen, lively but not too bright. They added calmness and poise to her already-radiant face.
Her hair served a masterpiece all on its own: long and flowy and alternating in pristine bands of violet, pink, and gold. There was a shine to every thread, and from Flash's angle he could swear her bangs actually sparkled.
Her beauty was already quite otherworldly, but this hardly restrained the woman from indulging in a bevy of cosmetics. Her lipstick was full and glossy: a daringly darker shade of pink on top of her bright pastel complexion. She wore dark eyeshadow with enviably luscious lashes. Then—to top it all off—she wore a narrow shade of blue eyeshadow. At first, it wasn't clear what this accent was meant to highlight, until Flash noticed that her nails were painted the same ocean-colored hue. If he hadn't noticed this, Flash would have had no recourse but to think that the eyeshadow was somehow reflecting his predominant hair and eye tone.
For being so damnably gussied up, the woman was far from compensating for anything. Her beauty was clearly quite natural, and her exterior accessorizing merely extended it in a creative and playful way. She wore delightfully comfortable and casual fashion: a stone blue open jacket over a pink blouse with teal capris. She was undeniably shapely, slim yet curvaceous. And tall. She was a whole lot of woman, and Flash—even from his lofty angle—was already guessing she stood brazenly over ten feet. An average man would see her eye to eye. A boi like Flash could barely scale above her shoulders.
Or so he imagined... for in the scant few milliseconds in which his bedazzled eyes drank her in, he felt this accursed longing to float down towards her. It didn't help that when she spoke, it was with a remarkably mature and womany voice. A spark of youth still echoed between the ripples of her breath, but an innate wisdom and grace permeated throughout. This—more than anything—was how he knew that she wasn't just some painted hussy from the street, but an honest-to-Joan-of-Arc heroine of beauty and elegance.
Somewhere—in a million multiple alternate universes—an oceanic flood of Rarity's were fainting in overwhelming awe. Flash too felt like fainting, if only for the simple fact that he—or anyone for that matter—paled in comparison to her. And yet there she stood, felicitous and feminine, physically and soulfully embodying all of the colors of a little girl's toy aisle, and she bequeathed him—of all beings—with a patient smile that could cut diamonds and soothe hurricanes all at once.
And she still smelled really... amazingly good.
Just what had she even said to him in the first place?
A continental shift later, Flash's heart leapt to hear more words coming from her pink pearlescent lips: "Is everything okay?"
His voice locked up in his delicate throat. It wasn't that Flash refused to speak by proxy of some angsty mood; he simply didn't know any words that could measure against the mountain of majesty that hovered all about her, emanating from her, embodying her.
The woman—the goddess—was far from impatient. She gazed up at him with her hands humbly clasped together, a motherly smile haloing. Doting and cherishing and enlightening all at once. Flash's lofty position atop the fallen tree trunk afforded him a self-renewable sense of security, and she didn't even pretend to forcibly scale the ramparts of such.
"I do hope you forgive me," she purred, lacing the edges of his floundering heart with each syllable. "I was enjoying a calm stroll when I noticed you here." A slow exhale, and Flash realized there was more to her that smelled enchantingly fragrant than just the floral touch. "It looked like you were in distress. It wasn't my intent to intrude."
Flash felt himself trembling. He hugged his knees to his chest, struggling not to show it. He wanted to show something; he didn't want to disrespect this spontaneous manifestation of beauty. But—at the same time—even the slightest movement might lead him to imploded. With Twilight and Sunset, he had discovered ways to hide when the cry urge kicked in. This was no meager accomplishment, especially considering that one of his roommates was a telepath. But with this seraphim stranger...
...he could barely think, much less squeak forth a reply.
"It looks like you found a really cozy spot to sit down and reflect." She smiled, and his insides melted twice over. "I-I must say..." Her breath shook with a giggle, a youthful island in an ocean of voluptousness, and the boi could barely sit straight. "...I'm rather envious." She took her first bold step forward since announcing herself, gliding towards a perpendicular log on lady legs. Her manicured fingers pointed at the potential seat in question. "Do you mind if I sit here for a bit?"
She had posed a question that didn't entirely necessitate a vocal response. Flash had never felt more thankful for anything in his beleagured young life.
Sniffling, he shook his head.
Once more, there was no rush. Her words—her motions—were gentle as falling snow. Fluffy and pink. "I am not bothering you?"
He wiped his eyes with a dainty wrist. Again, he shook his head.
She exhaled through a smile, as if having endured some challenging labor. She sat demurely on the adjacent fallen tree, seated like a princess riding side-saddle. "Hmmmm..." She hummed, delighting in something. Was it life? The natural scent of the tree? The warmth of the noonday sun? She exhibited the confidence of a pink-bound tome that harbored countless secrets and the pages could spill out at any second. "...you can see the whole field from here. Every team competing against each other. Their parents and their families..."
Flash breathed easier and easier. Each inhale was filled with her floral greatness. Flash felt like he was in the perfume section of a department store. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine a garden of flowers blooming all around him.
Without knowing it, he had calmed considerably just by her being there.
"Funny how—sometimes—the only way to manage life is to do so along the margins," she said. Her hand brushed through her fountainous pastel hair. Her eyes were exposed more to the sun, glittering in all their rosiness. "There's absolutely no cowardice in it. The world is our arena, and there are many angles by which to appreciate all the finer details." She gazed up at him with a tranquil expression. "I've long chosen a place in the center—by both heart and profession—but from time to time... I must admit it's very nice to relax in the corner... to rediscover myself." Her hands folded politely in her lap. Even when inviting herself into his company, she had chosen a spot that was lower. Whether it was out of respect or something else, Flash was too stunned to tell. "We must never lose sight of ourselves... of looking out for ourselves. Before we can care for others, we have to be in a good place with the first friend we ever make. The lonely person in the mirror." A giggle. "Sounds silly when I put it that way, I know... but it's okay to laugh. Just as it's okay to cry."
Flash sniffled.
"That's right. It's okay," she said. Softly. Like a whisper—a whisper that Flash could hear at any spot in the world, even the most remote corners. "It's okay. Even if it doesn't make sense. There's a purpose to it—to everything." Her hands clasped together. "Why would we even be given such a gift if not to use it? It all comes together nicely when we need it to, don't you think?"
Flash sniffled. He felt another tear running down his cheer. He rubbed it away with a girly wrist—not thinking about it. Not thinking about anything.
Maybe—just perhaps—that was why he let slip the words without hesitation: "You smell nice~" It came out rather melodically, and he winced.
"Heeheehee!" Her own giggles cut off any chance that she might have noticed his grimacing expression. "Thank you~" Her melodic voice mirrored his, and she fluffed her bangs with elegant pride. "Midnight Meadows."
He blinked at her curiously.
"The name of the perfume. Yes—I like wearing it in the daytime. It throws people off—and what better thing to flabbergast people with than something that's pleasant?" She looked at her own wrist, then held it up and towards the boi with the fingers dangling, like a Queen might do in expectations of a knight's kiss. "Here. You may smell it if you like~"
Flash felt his heart pounding. There was the inkling of an ancient urge—to rebuff her friendly offer like all the kind words from Twilight and Sunset—but too much of him had melted at this point. The remnants of his angsty self flowed downstream, carrying his so-called "spine" with it, so that he leaned—nearly teetered—and hovered just a skin's lick away from her offered limb. Flash took a liberal inhale, and his insides were filled with lilac and cinammon. He felt the urge to weep, but performed an emergency pivot, translating it into a murmur:
"It sm-smells nice," he hummed.
"I would hope so~" She smiled. Proud. Pearly teeth. She brought her hand back down, clasping it back in her lap—sitting ever like a pink porcelain statue. "I always like smelling nice. Looking nice. Feeling nice. Is it vanity?" The subtlest of shrugs. "So long as it doesn't encroach upon what others desire or tolerate, then what harm is there in doing everything we can to feel good?"
Flash blinked at that.
"We all deserve to feel good. At any and all times. It's a battle worth fighting, and hills are meant to shine on... not die on." She exhaled slowly after that, as if having climbed such a mountain. Her gaze upon him was long, lingering, and thoughtful. At some point, she punctuated the expression with a thinning of her eyes. "Is that blue hair I see?"
Flash bit his lip.
"May I see more of it?" she asked in a sweet tone. "Only if you're okay with it, that is."
Flash fidgeted where he sat. He felt himself powerless. But it didn't happen suddenly. It was eons ago that the young man had sat himself on that lonesome tree. What purpose did such an ancient forebearer have? How much did such an age of isolation weigh against this blinding baptism of color?
His hand moved up and slowly lowered the hood.
She was gasping—even as his gesture was halfway complete. "Oh...!" Her hands clasped over her heart, but her smile was no less genuine. "How so very gorgeous! Like the ocean itself!"
Flash felt his breath leave him. If this was any other person, he'd hiss in scathing disgust at the very notion of such a compliment. But not here—not with this inexplicable nymph. Instead, he felt a euphoric toastiness bubbling up within his center. Flash's eyes watered, but not for the same reasons as earlier—
"I can already tell it must be incredibly manageable." The woman's cheeks flushed with something sincere and loving beyond the fuchsia veil. "Why, if I had hair like that, I'd grow it as long as possible." A slight giggle, and the blush intensified as she rolled her eyes. "I suppose you must forgive me. I have... something of a bias when it comes to the color blue." Another giggle, but she cleared her throat. "But I do mean it, sweetie. Your hair is wonderful." A solid breath. "And so are you."
A new pit formed in Flash's throat. He looked at her—eyes slick and disbelieving... about to slip into an insurmountable abyss of blinding possibilities. The pressure was just so much, and yet he felt light as a feather. It was like lingering upon the precipice of untold rapture. It scared and delighted him all at once.
Someone with divine intervention might have had the impulse to freeze the moment before it overwhelmed him. And—indeed—the woman in question turned towards the fields beyond.
"Oh goodness..." She slowly stood up from the lower trunk. Flash felt himself being peeled away—layer by layer—with the initial signs of her inevitable departure. "...I think I heard some of my students calling me. There's one last game left. Blast it. Well..." A motherly breath—along with an accompanying shrug. "...duty calls~"
Standing up, the woman brushed her ankle pants clean of tree bark and dust. It was obvious that a weight of obligation was tugging her back towards the soccer fields. Nevertheless, she fought gravity—if only for a second—to turn and gaze lovingly up at the boi one last time.
"I really enjoyed talking to you, my dear," she said—practically sang. "My name is Cadance~ I do hope we get to meet again sometime." With that said, she pressed a set of pretty fingers to her lips and blew the boi a kiss... and a playful wink. "Take care of yourself. You deserve no less."
And with a twirl of pastel colors...
...she was gone.
"Cadance," Flash exhaled, his heart throbbing to fill the cold space left in her absence.
She was a pink dot against the emerald horizon by now, and yet her fragrance remained.
"Cadance."
The warmth of her gaze and the melody in her voice as she addressed him from across the universe.
"Cadance."
Flash hugged his knees to his chest again. The urge to cry still remained.
Two hours later, on the ride home, that smile still lingered. It was a soft and subtle and stealthy thing—but it was there. Where only Flash could notice it, feel it, focus on it. His gaze lingered out the window of the rear passenger compartment, lost in the blur of colors streaming by, imagining that they eventually comprised the flow of hers.
What transpired between the meeting and then—Flash barely noticed. The last round of games were played. The CHS team was 2 and 0. The older siblings and their friends chose to go out for victorious refreshments, but Sunset and Twilight chose to say their goodbyes and head home instead. No doubt it had something to do with being saddled with the dead weight that was Flash...
...but for once, the guilt of the matter didn't resonate with him. Why feel guilty when there were so many beautiful things in this world? Beautiful smells and beautiful skin and beautiful smiles...
And yet, when she spoke to him... when she deigned to throw her heavenly melodies his way...
It was almost as if she was treating him as something even prettier...
A sigh escaped his lips. Something warm and sprinkled with enthusiasm. It was a very different taste than what he was used to.
Someone else in the car evidently sampled it: "So... are you going to tell us, Flash?"
He was distracted from his blur-gazing, but not enough to forget her smile. For that reason—if nothing else—he wasn't upset. "Tell you what, Sunset?"
The telepath looked in the rear view mirror at him. Bright turquoise eyes mirthful and curious. "Who was the woman you spoke with earlier?" Her voice had a harmonic tone to it, suggesting that the reality she inquired about was more pressing than anything he could illuminate about it. There was no pretending that he didn't hear her; Spike was having a puppy nap in the child seat and Twilight Sparkle concentrated on the road ahead. "I saw you sitting with her in the middle of your stroll around the fields."
Flash simply continued gazing out the window, his chin pressed against his palm. She had blue eyeshadow and nail polish... like his own hair. He realized he was delaying an answer to Sunset. It wasn't that he wanted to be rude or spiteful, but there were times when he wondered what the point was in answering a telepath out loud.
Sunset suppressed a snicker. "I'm simply trying to be polite, Flash," she answered his head. "She looked very pretty~"
"Mmmmmmmmm..." Flash exhaled dreamily. "Yeah..."
"Are you going to tell us her name~?"
He had every reason to believe she already knew her name. Nevertheless, he oblidged: "Cadance," he said.
The car accelerated and decelerated in time with Twilight's happy gasp. "Cadance?!" She beamed into the rear view mirror, and for a heart-throbbing few seconds Flash saw yer electrified eyes. "You got to speak with Cadance?! Oh gosh, Flash, I'm so envious!"
Flash craned his neck slightly towards the driver's seat. "You know her?"
"Pffft! Do I know her??" Twilight gripped the wheel tight as she smiled at the green lights up ahead. "She's a long-time friend of the family. She was my babysitter for as long as I could remember as a child! Then—when I went to Crystal Prep—she was my mentor and closest confidant. Besides Spike, of course... eheh..."
Sunset looked over at her. "She became principal—what—five years ago?"
"Mmmhmmm!" Twilight nodded briskly. "Almost immediately after the school board fired Cinch. Oh goodness... I was so very happy for her! Y'know she's the whole reason I was able to get transferred to CHS in the first place, right?"
"Yes, Twilight..." Sunset reached over and squeezed her girlfriend's shoulder with a loving smile. "You mention it at least four times every month~"
"What did you and Cadance talk about, huh?" Twilight grinned into the mirror again. "Oh—I've missed her so much these days. She always seems so busy lately. I swear! We only meet once a week these days!"
"Snrkkk..." Sunset held a hand over her beautiful face, stifling a giggle. "Oh, how terrible for you, Twi..."
"She must have been there today to provide moral support to the Crystal Prep soccer team."
"Fat lot of good that did." Sunset folded her arms. "CHS whooped their butts in the last match."
"Yes, well, Cadance is awesome but her school doesn't have the Crusaders."
"Well put~"
"Well, Flash?" Twilight glanced back at him as they paused at a red light. "What did you think?"
"She..." Flash breathed. "She... ..." He breathed some more. His nostrils tickled with the Midnight Meadows. Even through time and the trailing scent of grass and sweat, he felt like he was sniffing her wrist and being cradled in a pink cloud of warmth and wisdom and whimsy. ".... ... ..." He exhaled, hugging himself. "...she was nice."
"Heeheehee..." Twilight pushed the car into a brisk cruise as the light turned green. "She is, isn't she~?" A warm sigh of her own. "Best big sister I never had. And not just because she was a good babysitter!"
Flash gazed out at the zooming world. A dumb smile crossed his face. He wished she was his babysitter.
Sunset Shimmer giggled explosively.
Twilight glanced aside at her. "What...?"
"Ahem... nothing... just drive safe, Twilight." Flash could see her turquoise eyes winking at him through the rear mirror.
He drew his hoodie over his head—if only to hide a pleasant, rosy blush. As if his skin was trying to mimic hers.
That afternoon, Flash retired to his room "early," per the usual. Or—at least—he attempted to. It made some lethargic sense that his dominant roommates didn't fight his typical habits that evening. He had—after all—humored them in going out to the soccer games, even if his presence contributed zip to the overall social scene.
But the moment he fwomped down onto his bed, surrounded by the sepulcher shadows of a domain enmeshed in dust and darkness...
...he couldn't sleep within it. He couldn't even pretend to. Flash had his usual distractions for dozing off: an iPad that he always propped up at bedside so he could binge Youtube while sleep approached. But this did nothing to assist him. The typical distractions that he subscribed to weren't properly humoring or stimulating him either. It was like he was attempting to take a nap in broad daylight. Yes, his room was dark as a coffin and the sun beyond the black curtains was going down. But—to him—it was like a bright beacon was illuminating the room from beyond, and exposing it for all of its disgusting and decrepit details.
Her smile.
Her voice.
With such beauty in the world, what was the divine purpose of veils?
Flash couldn't sleep. He couldn't even relax. It wasn't anxiety gnawing at him—or the usual dread and ennui which he had become accustomed to like a second blanket.
But rather, it was a new form of energy. Immersive and invasive. Sending shivers up and down his body.
He couldn't lie still. He couldn't sit still. He couldn't...
So—with a burst of energy—he got up and left that room. He felt like running laps around the house. After a bit of pacing, he ran into a mess in the kitchen. It simply wasn't orderly. So he tackled it.
This—naturally—was to the overwhelming joy of his roommates. They complimented him on doing the dishes, and even Twilight lent a hand (or a telekinetic wave or two) after Flash was already five minutes into it. After the dishes were squeaky clean, Flash took out the trash. Early. He knew that garbage day was over forty-eight hours away, but suddenly the world was filled with innumerable chores and he had four limbs to toss at them. He even took Spike out for a walk before the roommates—chuckling—could stop him. Spike spent the entire time chatting, except for the two twenty-second moments he spent squatting in the grass. Flash listened... somewhat. As the sun set and gave the world a gold sheen, the boi thought of the bands in her hair. The rosiness in her cheeks as she complimented him on his own. Then Spike resumed rambling and Flash slowly and dutifully walked him home.
When it was time for Flash to take a shower—he noticed how filthy the tub was. In truth, it was long overdue for a clean, but since it fell under his charge it was no wonder that it never got tackled.
Until that night. Flash scrubbed the tile and the flooring. He even gave the faucet handles a rundown. He couldn't reach the shower head itself—he was just too damnably short. He had to stop his naked self from asking either Sunset or Twilight for assistance. By then, he realized the buzz had nearly consumed him. When he actually showered showered, he tried turning the faucet to its coldest setting—just to yank him back to sanity. That lasted for a whole ten seconds before his sissy self switched it to warm-and-steamy. He relaxed under the stream, feeling accomplished, feeling cozy.
Feeling like he was worth something. If not to his roomates and their dog, then maybe to someone out there who...
...adored his blue hair.
And when he came out of the shower and stared at his naked, dripping self in the mirror... for once he actually agreed.
It was adorable. And shiny.
If he could believe that about his hair, then how much of a stretch was it for Flash to appreciate the rest of his body. The body he was given... after the blackout...
It was then that he felt it. The first frigid stab of the age-old melancholy he had grown so used to. But instead of suckling on it, he pushed it away with the last vestiges of warmth still lingering from that afternoon.
She had such royal violet eyes. And smooth bubblegum pink skin. And a voice that could melt diamonds.
And she liked his hair.
Something escaped his lips as he got dressed for bed. A squeak? A giggle?
Whatever it was, it lulled the energy to a gentle hush in his veins. The sun had set, and he laid down in bed with the windows open for once. A soft blue haze drifted over the sleepy suburbs, and a gentle breeze wafted in past the curtains to kiss him. He switched on his iPad and loaded a compilation of video clips from his favorite Youtubers—stuff he had seen a million times over—only now they tickled his heart with a new found joy. With every thing he saw and heard, he imagined that she was hearing them too. That she was sharing it all with him—the things that he loved—and she held him close and laughed and hummed and smiled with every wave of comprehension and nostalgia being milked from his core.
It was a silly thought. A selfish thought. He barely knew her and she owed him nothing.
But he dreamt about it anyway, and the smile on his face drew him into the toastiest slumber Flash had experienced in months.
"Hmmmm... heeheehee..." He hugged himself under the sheets as the low volume of the iPad resonated against everything and nothing. "...babysitter..."
Flash Sentry sensed it. It was stronger than before. He wasn't certain what drew it out, but...
It motioned for him. Like a hand beyond the veil. He made a move: approaching—or so he thought.
But the Pink receded. Flash was left out in the cold. He shivered, clutching himself, seeking answers.
He became vaguely aware of a large structure before him.
He looked up. Pretty blue eyes squinting.
There were balconies. Columns. Ramparts. But no source. Nothing that made sense of what he... sensed.
Flash felt the urge to move forward. He did so on freezing feet. His teeth chattered at this point. The boi was alone. Abandoned. Enveloped by the darkness.
But threre was something waiting for him. Just up ahead. He limped towards it, his face pale and pleading.
It wasn't fear that drew him forward, but something very real. Very colorful. Very warm.
When he came upon the fringe of the blackness, he sensed that what he was looking for—and who he was—lingered just a reach forward.
He craned his ears towards the imperceptible, and for the briefest of moments he thought he heard a voice. Beckoning.
Like honey on the eardrums.
His heart skipped a beat. The Pink was within grasp. He tilted forward... lunged... plummeted...
Yet again, Flash Sentry woke up, unfulfilled and melancholic.
It wasn't the first time his slumber was filled with such cryptic visions—if he could even call them "visions." For months—ever since waking from the blackout—he experienced them almost every night.
Lingering beyond all of that was the vague and somewhat haunting notion that he had actually experienced the visions during the four years that he was "out." This was something he couldn't possibly explain to anyone, and even still he wasn't entirely sure of it himself. Then again—almost everything was a mystery about those four agonizing years, and it didn't help that the lapses in his memory kept him from properly ascertaining the truth.
Typically, whenever Flash would have a brush with these visions, he'd envelope all of the negative emotions regarding them and would just... sink even deeper into the depths of his room, wrapping himself up with shadows and rejecting all textures of the day.
But on this day, things were... different. Flash couldn't explain how or why. He didn't even bother to put much thought to it. All he knew was that he felt energized after a long night's sleep and there were things to do.
So he did do things. This required getting up, which Flash did. He even went as far as to make his bed and put on something that was a bit more presentable than sleeping clothes. Granted—it still looked big and bulky on the boi's petite figure, but he at least made the effort.
This was not lost to the likes of Twilight and Sunset Shimmer. They were surprised—not just at him being up and about, but that he was up and about in time for them to catch him before they went off to their separate tasks for the day. Flash grabbed a bit of fruit for breakfast and asked if they wanted any work done around the house. Sunset—unprepared—merely directed him to the "to-do list" that Twilight always had posted on the refrigerator. And—once both women were gone—Flash found avenues by which to exercise his strangely uncorked energy.
Thus—throughout the day and the ones to follow—Flash Sentry found himself vacuuming the apartment, giving the bathrooms a long-needed scrubbing, cleaning the inside of the indoor fridge, and even mopping the kitchen floor. Being exposed to so much daylight was a queer thing indeed for the young man, and it attracted the interest of Spike—who found multiple reasons to trail Flash around and talk his hear off about all sorts of random magically-sapient-canine things.
Flash simply nodded and allowed Spike to get the ramblings off his furry chest. Either he was too good at busying himself that week or something unique was pumping through his bloodstream, but Flash actually didn't find the little talking animal all-too-terribly annoying. Once he realized that he wasn't literally required to remember everything that came out of the pup's mouth, he discovered that he could easily tolerate Twilight's pet/best friend. Spike had less reasons to feel lonesome, and it made a positive impact on the dog's day.
But between Spike and the apartment, Flash still found himself feeling restless. It was like a complete reversal of the last few months of his existence—in that his days suddenly felt so bright and so long that there wasn't enough to fill the hours with. Sleep—or the masquerade of sleep—simply didn't offer the same refuge, and it now felt like a crime to kill time so wastefully.
So...
Flash started straightening the things in his room. He soon discovered that this was more than a simple task, so he started rearranging things: furniture and closet space and wall decorations. This task needed light, so he pulled apart his black curtains—wilfully—for the first time in as long as he could remember. In so doing, he discovered hideous layers of dust and grime and filth. There was no going back now; Flash had to go full Cinderella mode.
As such, he dusted the bookshelves and cleaned his sheets and even gave patches of wallspace a good gentle scrubbing. As time wore on, he realized that he disliked the sunlight less and less. The brightness did not—in fact—stab his eyes, as his previous vampiric proclivities might have led him to believe. In fact, the more he progressively made his room spotless and presentable, the less excuses he had to obscure it all in darkness. Before Flash knew it, his little pocket of the apartment had become as shiny and resplendent as the rest of the rooms that otherwise fell under the charge of taller, saner beings.
Speaking of whom: Twilight and Sunset were beyond impressed. Perhaps even a bit concerned. More than once, the telepathic former-girlfriend of Flash took the boi aside and asked him how he was doing... how he was feeling... if he had been taking any substances.
Flash humored her as much as he could. The only reason the telepath never got a satisfying answer is because the boi had nothing legitimate to give. He simply... lost the bulk of his lethargy. Even after nearly a full week, Flash was still getting up relatively earlier than usual and accomplishing stuff around the house by pure will. There was no longer any desire to just... collapse and let the day die. He had things to do and an energy that could barely be expended.
Looking back, Flash struggled to find a starting point to this wave of self-assuredness. He found it strangely assuring that he couldn't find—much less label—a reason. The moment he understood what made himself tick, he cynically feared that the whole movement would cease.
Flash was no idiot. He did remember the day at the soccer fields... and the tiny, fateful, but altogether felicitous conversation with Cadance. But—in his mind—it was impossible to connect any dots to it, or to her. It just didn't make any sense. The Principal of Crystal Prep hadn't offered him any advice or encouraged him to change his regular schedule or laid the groundwork for a new habitual way of showing thanks and respect to his roomates.
She just... brushed through his life on a wave of pink and gave him something to smile about—at least on the inside.
Surely that wasn't enough to make a difference...
...was it?
After all, it's not like anything a virtual stranger could do or say would make any alteration to Flash himself, the state he was in, or the things he had lost during the blackout. Flash was simply experiencing a very... manic phase—he told himself—and in time that would fade away. If not on its own, then surely a spontaneous roadblock would come and knock everything about that week asunder.
And Flash was almost certain that moment would come... the morning that Sunset tapped his shoulder and kindly reminded him...
...that his regularly-scheduled doctor's appointment was at hand.
"At the risk of sounding wishy-washy, Flash, it really truly is for your own good," Sunset Shimmer said, typing away at a laptop in the apartment's kitchen while the boi in question hung in the periphery. "I know how much you loathe going, but I beg you not to make a scene."
"I'm not going to make a scene, Sunset," Flash Sentry sighed.
"Are you sure?" Her turquoise eyes darted over, strict and scrutinizing. "Because—in the past—"
"I know how I've been in the past." He gulped, brushing a dainty hand across his soft blue bangs. "But who was I kidding? I'm lucky that we've been able to afford any medical visits at all."
"Well, that's one way of putting it," Sunset said.
He squinted at her. "Are you ever going to tell me just how we've been able to afford it all?" He pointed. "And don't say 'gems hauled in from Equestria.'"
"What matters, Flash..." Sunset's tone was already telegraphing to Flash that she was going to simply ignore his concerns there. "Is that we want to capitalize on every chance we have to exam you and the changes you've been going through. While Twilight and I work on our own studies and experiments, it helps to have a control variable to compare to in case—"
"Yes, Sunset, I understand all of that." He cleared his throat, delicately adding: "And thanks, by the way."
She blinked. Genuinely impressed at his expression of gratitude. "You're... quite welcome, Flash."
"But... forgive me if I'm not too terribly enthusiastic." He leaned against the wall and hugged himself with a helpless shudder. "If things go the way they've always gone... I'm afraid they'll find absolutely no changes."
"Well..." Sunset's hands gripped and ungripped the edge of the kitchen table. She put on her best smile. "...we can at least hope for the best."
Flash felt like groaning—but that didn't seem fair. Not after all Sunset and Twilight had done to help and support him. If they could learn to fake it for his benefit, then he could do the same. He hadn't always thought this way, but as the current week panned out...
He put on the best smile he could manage and nodded at her from across the kitchen. "When do we go?"
"In two hours. I've got you scheduled at ten thirty."
"Got it."
"Better wash up."
"Way ahead of you."
"And Flash...?"
He paused in the middle of the hallway, looking back at her. "Yes, Sunset?"
Her smile was a genuine one now. Genuine and curious and warm. "I think something has changed." There was a slight sparkle to her turquoise eyes. "You're not the same you that you've been these last few months. Maybe that counts for something." A wink. "Perhaps something the doctor will discover this visit."
He didn't have much reason to believe her. But Sunset was right about something—Flash had undergone some sort of a change. It was enough to electrify him into accomplishing things every morning and just... being an overall better human being. That same enthusiasm caused him to wink back, even if he knew the gesture meant nothing.
Two hours later and standing naked/half-naked in the examination room of the doctor's office, Flash's fears were indeed confirmed. There were no physical changes to his body after all. He was in the same shape that he was in upon immediately waking from the blackout.
While this was far from good news, Flash took it in relatively decent stride. There was the same air of defeat, the same melancholic tug on his lungs that led him to sigh. But—even as the examination continued—he imagined all the things he could be doing at home, instead of immediately retiring to his bed and letting the day die.
He also made a conscious effort to show genuine thanks to the physician on this visit. Flash Sentry's "regular doctor" was a longtime acquaintance and confidant of Principal Celestia. Celestia: who was keen to maintain as much secrecy as possible concerning the "magical phenomena" at Canterlot High School and its metaphysical links to Equestria. The woman was well-respected in the community, and she had influences in "high places," at least where Canterlot City was concerned. During the extent of Flash's blackout, Sunset and her friends desperately seeked help for the unconscious boi. They swiftly found an ally in Celestia, who brought on her personal physician whom she trusted enough to look over Flash Sentry and his "recovery" with professional discretion. The precise mechanics behind this trust, Flash Sentry did not know. Nor did he know the financial support that was making all of this possible. It sure as Hell wasn't Sunset Shimmer, and Flash doubted it could have been Celestia either. But he certainly wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if nebulous magical horses in a realm beyond may have been more or less involved.
For what it was worth, Celestia's physician—Dr. Farrier—was a nice, respectable, and pleasant man. Flash Sentry had gone through physicals before in his young life, so that part wasn't so awkward. But—in hindsight—it was a very good thing to have a phsyician who didn't bat an eye at the sheer freakishness of the magical alterations that Flash had gone through. From what Flash understood, Dr. Farrier had given regular checkups to Sunset and all of her friends: adding his medical two cents to the changes their bodies went through as they grew more and more accustomed to the superpowers imbued by their geodes. Granted, there wasn't much the doctor could do to assist Sunset with her telepathy or Applejack and her inexplicable ability to pick up tractors with her bare hands. Nevertheless, just having a trusted advisor was a huge relief to everyone involved in the... legacy of Canterlot High School. More specifically that one graduating year.
However, despite all of Dr. Farrier's professionalism and good will, Flash's clinical visits inevitably ended up far-less uplifting than what Sunset and the rest of her friends went through. It had been nearly half a year since waking, and—just as Flash feared—he hadn't experienced any positive changes to his body. By "positive," Flash expected a reversal of the metamorphosis he had suffered... and a shift back to the more "manly" path that his teenage body had been climbing. Way back before fate had struck him unconscious.
But, alas, that was not the case. That day's examination eventually culminated, and the numbers hadn't shifted in even the slightest. Just as he was months ago, Flash stood at exactly four feet and ten inches. His thin and petite body weighed in at just under one hundred pounds. There was no sign of muscle growth, no shift in the pitch of his voice, and no return of his long-lost body hair. It was as if Flash Sentry was frozen forever in this small, puny, porcelain state.
While all of these metrics hit the young man supremely hard, somehow the "but the good news is(!)" portion of Dr. Farrier's concluding diagnosis always hurt the most. Flash's cholesterol levels were absolutely nothing to be worried about. His body fat was well below any comprehensible spectrum of concern. He had enviable blood pressure and healthy skin and 20/20 eyesight and a metabolism to absolutely die for. All of these factors measured with greater and greater magnitude when one considered the fact that Flash had not been practicing a good diet or exercise program. Despite being the size of a professional horse jockey, the twenty-two year old had done nothing to earn it. As fate would have it, this body was his to have no matter what he said, felt, or did.
Dr. Farrier did his best to look at the whole situation positively.
"As a matter of fact—in my professional opinion, Mr. Sentry—you are absolutely the most healthy human being I've had the honor of examining."
The elder physician said this with a smile. And the boi didn't doubt him when he added that he had every confidence someone like Flash could very well live "past one hundred years" on the sheer platform of his body's current health.
It's just that—no matter what the state of current reality happened to be—this was not the body Flash expected. And it went far beyond Dr. Farrier's capability to observe or predict. This was the same song and dance Flash had gone through for months on end. And while he was in the mood and presence of mind to take it all in stride currently, it didn't change the fact that Flash's body was going nowhere.
"There may be some hope yet~," Sunset Shimmer sing-songed, her hands on the wheel of her SUV as she drove Flash Sentry away from Dr. Farrier's office. "The Princess says that she and her Royal Court have made some astounding discoveries in Equestrian archaeology as of late." Her turquoise danced over. "In their latest find were hieroglyphics that seem thematically connected with the Miasma."
Flash Sentry said nothing. He sat slumped in the passenger's seat—not out of some moody choice. The young man was simply tiny and the chair was still adjusted to fit one of his roommates and not him. He gazed out at the passing scenery, weathering Sunset's "affirmative" words with quiet solemnity.
"It might explain how it was able to jump dimensions without using the portal~" Sunset said in an enthusiastic tone. "And if they can get bearings on that, they might be able to discover the next time the Miasma jumps and ensnare it with a modern day magic spell." She looked forward at the road ahead. "One way or another... we're going to track down the entity responsible for all of this. And between that and Twilight's studies here... well..."
She fidgeted slightly. She was hesitating. Flash knew she was hesitating. And the telepath knew that he knew that she was hesitating.
"...well..." Sunset cleared her throat. "...I truly hope a-and believe that a way will be found to... reverse things."
Flash took a deep breath. His eyes closed. He tried to keep his mind empty... clear... relaxed.
Nevertheless, she filled it: "It's just going to take time, Flash."
His teeth tightened in his jaw. He thought about all of the time he had already lost—
"The difference is that we've been able to gather more information since you woke from the blackout than we did while you were under—"
"Sunset... could you—?!" Flash started, his eyes opening angrily. He stopped himself, let out a calming breath, and muttered: "Please... I kindly ask that you don't just... b-blurt out responses to what I'm thinking."
Sunset shrugged in mid-cruise. "How else am I going to address the topics that need to be addressed?"
"I'll..." Flash shrugged. "...ask you when I want to know more? Y'know... out loud."
"But we both know how that goes, Flash..." She huffed, giving him a lethargic side-glance. "You just stay forever silent and never ask anything."
"Yeah... well... I'll change."
"You've said that before and you still play the quiet game...!"
"I know, I'm just..." Flash ran a hand over his face. He sighed.
Sunset's hands tightened on the wheel. A lump formed in her throat, but she fought through it. "You've suffered through a lot, Flash. I know it's not easy having to deal with all this."
"Yeah well..." Flash muttered, gazing out the window again. "...it can't be easy having to deal with me."
"Heheheheh..." Sunset chuckled nervously. "Flash, you're..." Her tongue lingered on a weak click against her teeth. Finally: "It's not so bad! Why, just this week alone—!"
"You and Twilight deserve to be living on your own," the boi muttered. "Preparing for your eventual wedding without having to be saddled with a pathetic lump like me."
"Now Flash—!"
"You might be telepathic, but I still know you, Sunset," Flash continued, solidly. "I may be four years behind, but you're still the same determined fighter you've always been. You know when there's a lost cause—and you can't stop from showing that you know."
Sunset bit her lip.
"Don't get me wrong..." Flash gave her an earnest look through the melancholic haze. "I'm grateful that the two of you took me in."
She gulped. "I know that, Flash."
The young man blinked at that. He felt something coating over his heart. While it wasn't exactly rapturous, he couldn't call it a "bad" sensation. "Well..." He looked back out the window. "...that's cool... I guess..."
Dead silence.
Flash emptied his mind as best as he could. It seemed a cruel thing to do, but it drew things out of his former girlfriend. And he needed all he could squeeze out of her in his current state.
"Flash... honey..." Sunset's fingers tightened even harder around the wheel. "...have you thought much about the possibility that—?"
"I stay this way forever?"
Her nostrils flared. "Every visit to Dr. Farrier suggests you're healthier for it—"
"I don't want to be healthy," Flash grumbled. "I want to be me."
"But what if this is you?" Sunset took brave breaths as she navigated more than just her lane. "Even if we can find a way to reverse what the Miasma did—"
"I'd still prefer it," Flash said. This wasn't the first time their conversation took such a turn. Every time it did, it typically resulted in awkward silence, and Flash would think about all of the things he didn't know. More specifically, all the things he wasn't told.
He flinched(!)—but it was too late(!)
"We've told you all I can, Flash—"
"Or just all you've wanted," he shot back.
She frowned at him. "Now that's not fair."
"Isn't it?"
"You came out of the blackout with memory missing—"
"You can still help with that—"
"We did. We tried. And..." Sunset's grimace broke her scowl, and it was a very sad thing. "...and we almost l-lost you again Flash."
It hurt Flash to see that expression on her. He looked away, eyes clenched shut. He instantly hated himself.
"Please don't think like that, Flash—"
"Sunset, please—"
"I mean it. It's not your fault. Honest! It's not..." Sunset's shoulders shook. She sighed. Thankfully—they had reached a red light, and she took the moment to rest aginst the steering wheel, composing herself. At last, the words dripped out: "...the first thing I wanted was to bring you back from that brink. And... and there wasn't a d-damned thing I could do about your body. There still isn't... even though I believe whole-heartedly in a future solution. I just... just..." She sighed. "... ... ...I wanted to bring your mind back. I thought—at least—I'd have the power to do that. To restore all the memories. But..." She looked worriedly at him. "Whatever my geode powers were reeling in, it was making you collapse. You just couldn't handle whatever it was that you were starting to remember and... and I knew you would slip right back into the blackout if I pulled anymore."
Flash was hugging himself at this point. He felt himself near tears. He couldn't look directly at Sunset, due to how terrible he felt.
"Like I keep saying..." She rested a hand on his soft shoulder. "It's not your fault. I don't have all the answers. And while I might have the tiniest... slimmest share of those memories, well... I'm afraid, Flash. I'm afraid of what they might do to you. That's why it's... it's going to take time. We gotta wait for the Princess to make progress before we can understand."
Flash sniffled. He looked out the window, thinking about the days when he was taller. Stronger. Once or twice, when Sunset was overworked and overburdened by all of her magical responsibilities, she would come over to his house and he'd spend an hour or two just holding his good friend while she fought through a maze of tears and rambling emotions...
"I m-miss those hugs too, Flash." Sunset's eyes glistened as she smiled softly at him. "But... I've found a good place now. And maybe... just maybe... there's a good place waiting for you too." She shook her head. "Even if it's no longer the old you."
Silence...
Until...
Honk! Honk!
Both Sunset and Flash jolted. The light had turned green seconds ago, and the traffic behind was getting impatient. Sunset slowly drove ahead and turned onto a perpendicular road.
"Erm..." Flash fidgeted in his seat, awkwardly trying to pivot the conversation. "Where are we going?"
"Figured we'd stop by Twilight's laboratory," Sunset said. "It's almost her break. Thought it'd be nice to join her for lunch."
Flash squirmed. He thought of home. His bed. The Pink that lingered beyond the opaque veil of his dark, dark visions.
"You've been on such a great streak as of late, Flash," Sunset purred. "It'd be a shame to break it now."
Flash wasn't sure what made him feel better: her encouragement, or the fact that the telepath ignored that very last mental detail. "You're right," he hummed.
"Mmmm..." A coy smile. "Sometimes." She turned onto another room. Twilight's workplace was only two or three blocks away now. "Try and relax, Flash. I think... I think you're going to enjoy spending lunch with us today."
"Why...?" Flash stifled a yawn as he settled back in the enormous seat swallowing him. "...will they be serving tator tots?"
Sunset giggled... and then she giggled some more. "Say what you want to about yourself these days..." She winked aside. "But at least you're a whole lot more adorable."
Flash felt a lick of toasty warmth inside his chest—but he wasn't ready yet to think much of it. He had fed her enough as it was that afternoon.
Flash Sentry barely got out of the apartment since Sunset and Twilight took him in. So it stood to reason that he rarely—if ever—set foot into their places of work. This was his first time in months showing up at the laboratory where Twilight performed her studies. The last time he went, she used her tools to take blood samples that Sunset could send to the Princess of Equestria.
"All part of the research path to victory!" Twilight had enthusiastically declared. Many an exasperating week had followed that particular day, and the "path" grew far longer and less victorious.
So, needless to say, Flash found very little joy in so much as looking the facility, much less stepping inside. But he had enjoyed a relatively positive past few days, for once. He certainly wasn't in the mood to bring everyone around him down—which, unfortunately, was per the "norm." If Flash could clean up at home, then it stood to reason that he could clean up in public too. It was the least he could do. Besides—Sunset suggested that they'd just be stopping on by to pick up Twilight and head to lunch. They shouldn't have been there for too terribly long.
Thus, Flash decided to do what he did best: be quiet, passive, and unassuming. To think: he wasn't always like that. The young man had a legacy full of rock'n'roll and loud sports cars. But that was at least four years and ten inches ago. And his family had sold the car at least halfway through the blackout.
Among other things.
A gust of frigid cold air conditioning shook Flash out of his dismal thoughts. He clenched his teeth, hugging himself as he scampered to keep up with the far taller and far fitter Sunset Shimmer. With a click of hard boots against the icy tile floor, Sunset led the two of them past the lobby and into the first security checkpoint. Flash glanced all around, observing people in and out of labcoats, shuffling to one destination or another. They each had a similar logo on their nametags. Flash felt that he had seen the symbol somewhere before, but it eluded him. At least he was looking. It had been a long time since he bothered to observe anything about the world around him. Over the past few months, Flash spent every outing with his head hung down—a testament to the slave he had become to the shadows of his bedroom. But things... just felt different now. Something was keeping the boi's delicate chin up, and he had the hardest time putting his finger on it—
Buzzz!
Sunset's communication with the guard beyond the initial barrier culminated. A door was opened from the otherside, and the two of them were led through. The next hallway felt even more arctic than the previous. It gave Flash anxious flashbacks to those fitful few days of waking up in the hospital. Now there was nothing that could stop his shivers—or the chattering of teeth—as he struggled to keep up with his far taller friend.
Sunset—ever the telepath—noticed it in an instant. Her tongued clicked sympathetically inside her mouth, and already Flash could see her peeling off her jacket.
"Here, Flash..." She held the article out to him in mid-walk.
"I-I'm f-fine," he lied.
"You're practically turning blue," she huffed. "Put it on."
"That th-thing is enormous!" his voice cracked.
"Jee, thanks," she smirked bitterly.
"Wh-wh-what I mean is, it'll m-make me look like a kid if I put it on!"
"And you think that's my fault?" Sunset stuck her tongue out. "Now slip on the jacket or I'll be carrying you the rest of the way to Twilight's lab!"
Flash sighed. Defeated. Again. He took the article—teetered slightly from how heavy it was in his dainty wrist's grasp. It took some fumbling, but he slipped into the jacket. It looked and felt like a miniature trenchcoat on the petite young man. But it still retained her body heat, and there was even a small whiff of Sunset's meager perfume. It felt familiar, safe, secure. He felt unworthy. "Thanks, Sunset," he murmured. "I-I mean it."
"I know you do," she said, slowly turning a corner so that the boi could catch up. "And I know you're not trying to make a scene. I'm proud of that."
He clenched his jaw, gazing aside at the doors they passed. "And somehow... I still do..."
"Even through your shirt and hoodie and sweatpants...?" Sunset raised an eyebrow. "This place makes you shiver?"
"I... I'm sorry..."
"Don't be, honey..." Sunset reached over to squeeze his shoulder through the jacket. "I guess I just... take for granted how sensitive your body is these days."
"I wish it wasn't the case..."
"It's just a matter of adapting, for the time being," Sunset said. "Althought—and you'll hate me for this—it's kind of fitting."
He gave her a dull stare. "You think my suffering is fitting?"
"I just mean..." Sunset's footsteps slowed as the two of them reached what must have been the door to Twilight's lab. "...you've always had a super sweet... super sensitive heart, Flash." She gave him a dazzling, saccharine smile. "Who knows... all of these changes that's happened to you? Magic spell or not—curse or not—maybe your body's just... decided to match what's on the inside?"
"Yeesh, Sunset..." Flash nevertheless blushed. "...I think I liked it better when you ragged on me for being a lazy ass."
"Mmmm... an ass, maybe..." Sunset winked. "You seem to be working out the 'lazy' part."
"Meh." Flash hugged himself through the jacket, staring off. "Don't you think it's a bit too soon?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On what exactly inspires you."
Flash blew out the side of his mouth. "I couldn't say."
"Hold onto that thought." And Sunset knocked on the door. A muffled voice that could only belong to an adorkable egghead echoed in reply. Sunset turned the handle and led herself and Flash in. "Hey, girls~!" Sunset beamed with genuine joy. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long~"
"Not at all!" Twilight Sparkle smiled brightly, sitting on a stool before a lab table in the center of the room. She was accompanied by an elegant, tall, and certifiably not-Twilight. "We were just catching up! How did the doctor's visit go?"
"Oh... you know..." Sunset exhaled. "It went." She placed her hands on her hips. "I figured we'd snag you both to join us for lunch. Sound good?"
"Sounds positively divine~" purred an enchanting voice. Sweet, womany, like honey-on-the-eardrums. "I've been working all morning before showing up here. I'm famished."
Flash's heart skipped a beat. His voice caught in his throat as he stared at the exquisite fuchsia figure at the far end of the room.
"Is Flash joining us?" Twilight asked.
"I would hope so," Sunset returned.
"Great!" Twilight smiled at the frozen boi. "Good afternoon, Flash. I do believe you've met my longtime friend—Mi Amore Cadenza?"
"Hmmm?" The seraphim in question tilted her pastel head. Her rosy eyes instantly lit up at the sight of him, and she filled the room with a radiant smile. "Ah yes~ There you are, sweetie~" She clasped two hands together and let out a gorgeous giggle. "Keeping warm, I see?"
"Uhm..." Flash squeaked, legs buckling as he hugged himself under the jacket. "...maybe?"
"Normally, these experimental compounds would require an extremely expensive centrifuge in order to be properly homogenized," Twilight Sparkle said, adjusting her spectacles before gesturing at an array of multicolored vials resting in the center of a lab table. "But with the use of my geode's abilities, I'm able to accomplish ten times the regular mixtures in barely a quarter of the time! And that's without having to use those hard-to-find centrifuges! This saves the organization a great deal in grant money, allowing us to maximize productivity while simultaneously minimizing cost! And that's just one example of the edge that my ability gives myself and my colleagues."
"Marvelous, Twilight." Cadance beamed, standing beside the younger woman. "Absolutely marvelous." With a doting smile, she rested a well-manicured hand on the scientist's shoulder. "But you mustn't forget the real edge that you have."
"Oh?"
Cadance winked. "That's the genius intellect you have cooked up in that noggin of yours." A slight giggle—merry with a side of bells. "I always knew my little bookworm would grow up to be a woman who would save the world~."
"Pffft..." Sunset leaned against a far wall with arms folded. A wry smirk crossed her face. "I could have told you that."
"Nuts to you~" Twilight stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend before leaping towards Cadance, hugging her around the waste. "Cadance doesn't have to flirt with me to give me a compliment!"
"Oh gosh, Cadance!" Twilight leaned back, cupping her cheeks. "You're going to make me blush!"
Cadance squatted down slightly, eyes narrowing and smoky. "Am I?"
"Eee-heeheeheehee..." Twilight turned red as a beet, squirming in place.
"Okaaaaaaaay..." Sunset walked into the center of the lab. "As much as we'd all like to eat Twilight up, I suggest we go out and get some real food before she runs out of lab time."
"Spoken like a truly wise sage." Cadance gestured to Sunset. "Have they given you a royal title in Equestria yet? I'd say it's long overdue."
"The Princess finds every opportunity she can to lure me back over to ponyland..." Sunset shook her head. "But it ain't happening."
"Let me guess." Cadance hummed pleasantly. "You're just too in love with Twilight."
"Actually, I'm too in love with video games," Sunset mused. After enduring a shove of protest from her girlfriend, she only smirked harder. "But yeah. Twilight's a good reason too." She wrapped an arm around the adorkable egghead. "Isn't that right, Hash Browns?"
"Snrkkt...!" Cadance giggled into a girly wrist. "'Hash Browns?' That's a new one!"
Sunset leaned past Twilight and whispered: "It's because she comes with 'Sunny Side Up'."
"Gaaaaaaaaiiieeee!" Twilight covered her flushed face with shivering hands. "Between the two of you—I'm gonna overflow!"
"That would seem to be the point, sweetie~" Cadance chimed. She then looked over at the tiny wallflower in the room. "Speaking of sweeties, are you going to join us for lunch?"
Flash—breathless and bright eyed—flinched like a windblown feather at the merest hint that the woman was looking at him. "I am...?"
"It's a beautiful day, and I bet you're famished~" Cadance's smile was a million renaissance paintings piled on top of one another or maybe some other hyperbolic analogy of unnameable gorgeousness. "I truly hope you join us~"
Flash's breath left him in a tender tremble. "You do~"
"I... think..." Sunset Shimmer cleared her throat, walking closer to Flash so as to anchor the nearly-capsizing soul. "...we all could use more meat on our bones. And I can't think of a better place than Fishtaku."
"Oh?" Cadance looked over. As her head turned, Flash saw a rainbow of pastel shine, and he nearly collapsed then and there. "Isn't that the establishment in the Mall where you used to work?"
"Yeah. I've got a lifetime discount too."
"Wow~! They must have really liked you!"
"Well, the Rainbooms and I did stop robbers three times in the same building."
"Oh right." Cadance smiled. "Those were the glory days, weren't they?"
"I'm... a lot happier with being chill and settled in, but... yeah. I do miss them at times."
"Then nostalgia and sushi it is~!" Cadance led the way to the door. "Combining things is fun!"
"Hop along, Flash," Sunset commanded.
"Uh... okay..." Flash nervously strolled along with the group. "It's... uhm..." He shuddered, feeling smaller and far-more underdressed than the rest. "...it's b-been a long... long time since I stepped inside the mall."
"Don't look so down!" Twilight Sparkle winked. "You're with friends, Flashie."
"That's right..." Cadance winked down at the boi, holding the exit door open for everyone. "What better way to go to the Mall than with a bunch of pretty girls?"
Flash felt a rosy warmth rising up through his system. Not just because of what she said, but because—in strolling closer—he yet again caught a whiff of her heavenly perfume. It wasn't the same as when he first ran into her. But it was an otherworldly aroma of a different sort: mixing roses with ginger. Again—floral and spice, but altogether pleasant and provocative all at once. Flash wanted to roll himself up in that scent and float off into space, and if he wasn't careful—he just might.
"Mmmmm... okay..." he wheezed, nearly having to limp as he passed the woman.
"Should I meet you there?" Cadance asked.
"Nonsense. I brought the SUV." Sunset threw a sly look over her shoulder. "You can ride in the back. With Flash."
"Oh! Perfect! Heehee... a true girl's day out!"
Flash had to fan himself as he nearly hyperventilated...
The trip to the mall was simultaneously as heavenly and as hellish as Flash could have anticipated. To a stranger, it was a completely innocent and uneventful car ride: just three women and a boi cruising casually through suburban traffic. But on the inside—and to some extent on the outside—Flash was a squirming, fidgeting, sweating mess. Sunset's SUV suddenly felt a million times smaller than when he last rode in it, and while Cadance may have been seated a good two feet away from hin in the back... it felt as though they were nearly scrunched in thigh-to-thigh. Any small bump or sway in traffic, they might just be on top of each other.
But—seatbelts saved more than lives. Flash and Cadance remained locked in their separate seats... and for all of Flash's multiple brush-ins with heart attacks, Cadance was not focused on him whatsoever. This was both a blissful thing and a saddening thing, but Flash chose to be thankful for the former. The three girls in the car gabbed on and on about one thing or another, mostly chatting about memories of shopping and long-closed establishments and familiar friends and neighbors who switched jobs, schools, prison sentences—whatever. In truth, Flash wasn't paying too much attention. It was a warm afternoon, so they kept the windows shut... which—of course—only magnified the delicious potency of Cadance's perfume, drawing him to melt from the inside out.
Cadance... Mi Amore Cadenza. That's how Twilight introduced her: Mi Amore Cadenza. Bras-on-a-biscuit, is that truly her name? Could it possibly get any more stupidly gorgeous? Was Cadance a school principal or a living Barbie doll? Perhaps both? My Barbie Principal Dreams would be a great toyline, and Cadance would absolutely nail the look in sweetly-perfumed spades.
"Aren't you hot in that sweetie?"
"Huh...?" Flash snapped out of it. It was a century after they had left the science facility parking lot, and the young man's pupils shrank at the sight of Cadance looking directly at him from across the backseats. "Uhhhhhhhhh—"
"Poor thing..." Cadance's lips pursed with a pink flicker of concern. "You look positively stifling!"
"I'm... uh..." Flash whimpered, adjusted the collar of his hoodie, and threw on a crooked smile. "I'm not as hot as... as..." His voice cracked as he avoided her goddess!gaze. "...other p-people." A hard gulp.
Cadance blinked. She opened her mouth to say something—
"We're here~!" Sunset Shimmer vibrated, pulling the car into a parking space and cutting the engine. "Hop to it, ladies~ Those fish won't devour themselves!"
"Woohoo!" Twilight shrugged her seatbelt loose and hopped out of the vehicle with youthful vigor. "Thunnus orientalis with rice, here we come~!"
"Yeah..." Sunset rolled her eyes with a smirk, exiting and slamming the driver's side door shut. "What she said."
The "fabulous" four entered the mall as a group. It was not a swift stroll—because each lady was obsessed with pointing out multiple details: shops that had changed names, establishments that had switched places, fashions in display windows, fashions being worn by other shoppers, fashion on poster advertisements, fashion, fashion, fashion. This—along with the rhythmic percussion of heels-clicking-against-tile—gave Flash everything he ever expected from a stereotypical gaggle of women. In stereo: for he stumbled haplessly in the center of it all, tickled by the sound of Twilight's giggles, the warmth of Sunset's voice, and the allure of Cadance's perfume. Something boiled inside of him—something that he felt too weak to contain—and he was afraid he might collapse into a puddle at any given time.
It certainly didn't help that the Mall truly was busy at that time of the day. There were more people gathered about than the young man had witnessed in... well... years. The soccer field was completely different: wide open with lots of room to breathe and wander around on his lonesome. But this? This was far different... far louder... far more crowded. The last time Flash was here, he was considerably younger... considerably taller... and considerably more manlier. Every sight and color triggered a cornacopia of conflicting emotions, and he felt like a paper thin ghost trying to re-tread a past life's old stomping grounds.
The boi felt weak in the knees, and at one point—as the women stopped to gawk at a jewelry display in the middle of the lower level promenade—he stood pigeon-toed upon the verge of collapse. His breaths came in ragged squeaks, and he felt a tingly sensation rippling through his fingers and toes. Why were they stopping? Was Twilight's lunch break going to last a hundred years? Who could possibly want to stop and window shop at a time like this? The universe was expanding and the world resources were dwindling and there were so many people walking around in a crazy cyclone of noise and neanderthals and what if one of them recognized Flash and asked him why he had shrunk down to such a tiny sissy shadow of yesterday and would they have to call an ambulance to reel his comatose vomit-covered body away—?
"Flash?"
He winced. He looked up, sweaty and trembling.
Rosy eyes. A motherly expression. Hair colored like a Disney Princess blanket.
"Are you okay, sweetie? You look like you're about to collapse."
Flash hugged himself, feeling a sway overcome him. He opened his lips. He meant to scream, but all that came out was an effeminate titter: "C-catch me...?"
Cadance's eyes narrowed. Like a pastel firefighter, she swerved into action, grasping him gently by the hand.
The sheer contact electrified him, like a pink defibrillator, warm and loving—but also swift and powerful. He felt a hundred times more awake in a single blink, and thus he felt a little bad when Cadance nevertheless proceeded to lead him over to a nearby bench.
"Excuse us, girls~" The woman threw towards Twilight and Sunset—who were currently in their own universe. "We're just going to have a little breather for a sec~"
"Sure thing, Cadance!" Twilight shot back as a seller showed off bracelets to the two roomates.
Soon, another galaxy away, Flash had been led to a bench—where Cadance gently eased him down.
"There you go, sweetie~"
Flash still shivered, overcome with fear, guilt, joy, shame, and a bunch of other monosyllabic abstract nouns that he couldn't be arsed to articulate at that particularly numbing moment.
Cadance centered himself within his meandering gaze, becoming his whole pink world, anchoring him with regal eyes and matching lips. "Just breathe." She leaned forward, drowning out the rest of the Mall and the strangers rolling beyond. "Breathe."
Flash Sentry breathed... breathed... breathed. Each inhalation was filled with her overwhelming perfume, and thus every exhalation was a subtle whimper of increasing relaxation. He felt like he was in a small cozy booth filled with scented candles. The crazy world and all of its frightening implications melted away, and he relaxed... coaxed by her resplendent visage...
...and her caressing fingers. They kneaded into his shoulders before stroking the edges of his upper arms through the hoodie's material. His peripheral vision caught the shine of her immaculately polished nails, and it was like being hypnotized by tiny twinkling stars.
"It's okay..." She smiled. "It's okay..." She purred. As his lungs eased, Cadance too eased—sitting down gracefully on the bench beside him. Even when sitting down, her head and upper body hovered high above the young man. But suddenly Flash wouldn't have it any other way. She was grand, overwhelming, powerful, and—best of all—she was there. "That's right..." She rested her hand on his shoulder, smiling down at him. "That's right. Isn't that much better? You're completely safe. There's nothing to worry about."
Flash was indeed breathing better, but the trembles remained—maintained by something else entirely. It wasn't nearly as frightening as what lulled him almost collapsing just seconds ago, but he wasn't certain how to combat it this time. All he knew was that he had this intense, overwhelming, undying urge to hug her—
"Don't hold back~" Cadance hummed, and it felt as though those fingers of hers were sweeping into his mind.
Flash shut his ocean blue eyes tight. He gave into gravity, falling sideways and clinging to the tall motherly woman seated protectively beside him. As soon as he did so, he was rewarded. Her hand drew him in closer, squeezing his side—almost tickling his ribs. He wasn't prepared for such an immediate show of affection, and more than a few squeaks escaped his lips. Before Flash knew it, he was crying. In public. It was his worst nightmare come true, but—somehow—it had been transformed into a happy dream.
"Shhhhh..." Her angelic voice coated it over with a toasty warmth. "That's okay. Let it out, sweetie. Let it all out..."
Flash hiccuped. The tears trickled freely—but it wasn't an outright sob fest. Instead, it was just... an easy release. He felt intense weight draining out of his insides, and he immediately wondered why he didn't just give in sooner. An intense wave of clarity came to him, and in less than a minute he felt himself floating up to the surface of the whole episode, awake, alert, and unashamed of the turbulence that brought him there.
Well, almost...
"I-I'm so sorry..." He sniffled, wiping his cheeks dry.
"Don't be~" Cadance cooed. Flash heard a delicate rummaging. The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue, lending it to him so he could dab his face dry. "Nobody should ever feel sorry for being so precious."
His heart leapt at that, but immediately plunged as Flash's somber ego took the helm. "More like pathetic."
"No." Her hand stroked his shoulder. "Precious." Fingers brushed the back of his neck, lovingly. "There's no shame in being small and delicate. Sometimes—this universe—it distills the best things into glass packages." She winked. "When you carry so much to be proud of, sometimes it's difficult to contain it. It's perfectly fine to take the time to spill over from time to time... so long as you don't lose sight of what you're carrying."
"I..." Flash dabbed his face drier, shuddering inward and outward. "...I'm not sure what I'm even holding half the time."
"That's okay." Cadance smiled. "I have every bit of faith that you'll discover it. We all will. But don't fret if there're more than a few bumps along the way. You're worth making that trip. Do you understand? You're worth it."
Flash gulped, sniffling one last time. "Okay."
"Say it," Cadance said firmly. "'I'm worth it.'"
Flash bit his lip. It nevertheless came out of him, tremorous but determined: "I'm worth it."
"Say it again."
"I'm... worth it." Flash sat up straight. "I'm worth it." He sat straighter. There was one lasting tear, but he didn't bother to dry it as he burned a path through the glint and shine ahead of him. "I'm worth it."
"Heeheehee... that you are~" Cadance leaned her head aside. "There... was that truly so hard?"
"Mmmmm..." Flash squirmed where he sat, fumbling for a response. For better or for worse, he decided not to think. "You smell good."
"Hahahaha..." Cadance leaned in, shaking all over in pastel mirth. "So I've been told!" She gazed warmly down at him. "Your hair is so incredibly silky."
"It... is...?" Flash exhaled through pursed lips. It wasn't until then that he realized the principal's hands were gently playing through his ocean-blue tresses. Just how long had she been caressing his bangs...?
"Oh, absolutely, sweetie~" Cadance nodded, brushing his threads a few more times before resting a loving hand on his collar. "Like a treasure waiting to be framed. Have you ever thought of growing it long?"
"I..." Flash felt a warmth burning in his chest. "I... uh..." It left him breathless, like fear—only far more tantalizing. It seemed incromprehensible that someone so beautiful and fragrant would find something worth complimenting in him. "Uhm..."
"Hey there~!" Sunset and Twilight walked up, hand in hand. "Sorry about that. Silly diversion. Ready to eat?"
"Are we ever!" Cadance stood up tall between Flash and his roommates. It took the boi some time to realize it, but she was obscuring their observation of his face—and the fact that he had just been crying. "Assuming—of course—you still have the budget to do this dutch."
"You actually think Rarity would forgive us for buying such expensive accessories without her nearby to appraise them?" Twilight rolled her four eyes. She blinked at Flash on the bench. "Hey..." Her face stretched with brief concern. "Is everything okay—?"
"Just relaxing our feet. Mall walking can be a real stretch!" Cadance turned to wink over her shoulder at the boi. "Isn't that right, Flash?"
"Ahem..." Flash had stuck the tear-stained tissue into his hoodie's pouch. "Th-that's right... uhm... ma'am."
"So... ladies?" Cadance folded her arms. "Sushi-ho?"
Sunset Shimmer gazed at Cadance, then at Flash. After a few contemplative seconds, the telepath bore a warm smile. "Hmmm... damn straight. Not sure how much my stomach can last at this rate."
"You do remember where it is, right?" Twilight teased.
"Just because you're smarter than me doesn't mean I've a cave woman." Sunset led the way down the promenade. "Let's mosey on, girls!"
"Yaaaaaay~" Twilight sung, clinging to Sunset's arm and giggling.
Like a superheroine might don a cape, Cadance picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She looked back down at Flash with a motherly smile, extending a hand. "Better?"
He inhaled softly, reaching up to grasp her wrist. "Better~"
"So happy for it." She winked, and led him after the girls—quite content, it would seem, to hold his weak little hand in hers.
Flash bit his lip, trailing along, doing all he could to keep from squealing with unspeakable felicity.
The four had lunch at the sushi stop. Flash Sentry stuffed his face—or maybe he didn't. In truth, he didn't remember an awful lot about the meal. He just remembered her.
In everything she did, Cadance was the very epitome of grace and beauty. This was a difficult task, for eating sushi commonly evoked the clueless dork out of most people. But Cadance exercised a masterful skill of wielding chopsticks. What's more, everything about how she consumed her lunch was done with utmost attention to etiquette and manners. She nibbled delicately without gorging outright like a pig, and she only spoke when she could do so without sacrificing dignity. Observing all of these things made Flash realize that he must have been staring at her the whole time. It wasn't like there was much he could do about it. When the group sat, the only stool to spare was between the bar, the wall, and Cadance. It was almost as if Sunset had omnisciently arranged for him to be seated so claustrophobically beside the school principal. Almost...
The group talked about things. Or—more honestly—the girls talked about things. Meanwhile, Flash sat like the blue rock he was and listened intently to Cadance—even if he had to filter her honey'd voice between the two giggly roommates nearby.
When the opportunity arrived, Cadance barely talked about herself. Which was disappointing—to some extent—but it became abundantly clear to Flash that she wasn't the self-absorbed type. She constantly said things and made inquiries that urged others in the conversation to elaborate, proceed, and unload their own bounties of information. There was something very socratic about the way Cadance engaged in chat, and she was constantly showing a legitimately sincere interest in what others said, felt, and proposed. It reminded Flash of school guidance conselors he had spoken to in the past, only—not nearly as fake, annoying, or obligated in station. If he was to make an apt comparison, it'd probably be to Mister Rogers... ... ... if... Mister Rogers was still alive, female, in their mid thirties, and looking dayum sexy in pink.
"In truth... I guess I-I'm afraid to bring it up to him," Twilight said, pausing melancholically between bites of rolled-up fish. "He's getting on in years... that is... dog years. And if sending him to Equestria to live out a full and long life as a dragon is the one sure-fire way to extend his years... then... th-that's what we have to do..."
"I see..." Cadance nodded, took a sip of water, and kept staring intently at the young scientist. "...then if there's a solution to Spike's lifespan, what's to fear?"
"Well... I'd not be able to see him anymore." Twilight sighed. "I mean—I guess I could visit him every once in a while. I've been to the pony world a few times. It's... pleasant... but I have no intention of living there."
"You have commitments here?"
"Well, yes. I have a career. A family. A love life. But all of those things aren't reason enough for Spike to stay here if he can enjoy things better—and longer—elsewhere. And yadda yadda weird canine existential stuff I should have thought of this long beforrrrrrrrrrrr—" The rest of Twilight's dialogue got loss to the fuzz of the moment, probably because Flash found himself staring at Cadance's purse.
It was a soft pink—like wispy clouds—with a faux leather surface. There were two loops for carrying the purse like a handbag, and shiny chains acting as a cross-body strap. There was a gold-plated "V" fastened to the lip, and Flash was more or less ashamed to recognize it as Victoria's Secret branding. The boi was more than a little bit familiar with feminine accessorizing, which may or may not had something to do with lonely nights spent browsing the Internet. Usually, whenever he thought about this—he'd moodily shake his mind off the subject and force himself to think of other... less exciting things. But for some reason—that day, sitting next to her, smelling that delightful perfume and hearing such pleasant voices—Flash was feeling considerably less guilty about—
"...firmly situated until he recovers." Sunset smiled his way. "Isn't that right, Flash?"
The young man forced himself to wrench his eyes off Cadance's pink-ness. "Uhhhhh—!" He juggled chopsticks before glancing nervously towards his former girlfriend. "Isn't what straight? I-I mean right?"
Cadance's smile above him absorbed all the jitters of the moment. "Sunset says you're available for work." A rosy wink. "It's a good, fresh market out there these days!"
"Oh... uhhh..." He blinked up, up at the tall goddess seated beside him. "...f-for sure! I've been definitely... uh... looking for an opportunity to—"
While patiently looking at and listening to him, Cadance raised a tender morsel of raw meat with chopsticks and slid it softly through her luscious pink lips before chewing slowly.
"—work it... work. Ahem." Flash coughed delicately aside into his wrist, then faced the half-empty plate directly in front of him like it was his gravestone. "And... uhm... school too... I... uh... I-I guess..."
Cadance chewed, nodded, chewed—swallowed—then dabbed her lips lightly with a napkin, leaving a bubblegum pink mark on it. "What are you pursuing?" she asked in a kind, charming tone.
"Oh, I dunno..." Flash exhaled. He felt invisible fingers tickling his brain. His eyes darted over, seeing Sunset wagging her eyebrows with a slightly stern expression. "Uhhm..." He chewed his bottom lip, squirming atop the stool. "...I mean, if I had my way, I'd pursue music. Like—music theory and the like."
"Oh~?" Cadance brightened at that, if such was even possible for the pastel entity. Her smile was warm and inviting as she cupped an elegant hand against her chin, leaning casually towards the boi. "Do you have experience in that area?"
"Experience...?"
"Tell her about the band, Flash," Sunset purred, smirking slyly.
Cadance gasped, and the fragrance of the room positively intensified. "You were in a band?!"
"Uhhhhh... y-yeah!" Flash giggle—a little too high pitched for his own good. There as no saving that, so he spilled forward into pure nostalgia: "I was a guitarist and backup singer for Flash Drive."
"Pffft... backup my bifocals." Twilight Sparkle rolled her four eyes. "Don't be so humble about it! You were their frontman!"
"It was..." Flash rubbed the back of his neck. "...a long time ago. At least four years—"
"I bet you were magnificent on stage~" Cadance said.
Flash bit his tongue—savoring the pain—doing anything and everything he could to keep from blushing like a Mormon stumbling upon National Geographic. "I... well..." He twirled a chopstick nervously in his hand, unwittingly doing it with undeniable finesse. "...we did compete in the Battle of the Bands."
"At CHS?"
"Y-yeah..."
"Four years ago—that had to have been a harrowing experience~" Cadance remarked. "What, with all the wild adventures being had on campus and around town at the time."
Flash blinked on her. "You... know about the..." His eyes darted to his roommates, then back to Cadance. "...m-magic of Equestria?"
"Why yes." Cadance nodded. "I do." A soft pause, and she cocked her pretty head aside. "You seem surprised?"
"I... uh... w-well..." Flash fidgeted, avoiding her gaze suddenly.
Sunset was already attempting to run defense. "Ahem. Flash has..." She breathed in and out, tempering the explanation in her mind, before: "...suffered lapses in memory." Her turquoise eyes looked pointedly at Cadance. "A direct result of one such 'harrowing experience.'"
"Oh, how awful~" Cadance held a hand over her heart. If it was anybody else, Flash would have assumed that the expression was given in a mock tone. But—coming from this valkyrie—it came across with sobering sincerity. He felt her sympathetic eyes pouring over him. "Then... do you even remember my presence as Crystal Prep supervisor at the Friendship Games? That was about a month or two after the music competition, if I recall."
Flash felt a sick taste in his mouth. Had Cadance brushed through his life before now? And he hadn't the ability to recall specifically? Chalk one more travesty to the blackout. He was already hanging his head without realizing it.
Sunset and Twilight looked at each other nervously.
And Cadance: "Well... I think music is an excellent art to make a career out of. It's not easy for all, but if one pursues it with enough passion and zeal, then it's the absolute most worthwhile lifestyle to live out." A slight giggle escaped her lips. She ate a piece of sushi, swallowed, and smiled aside. "Y'know... I was something of a singer myself back in the day."
"Oh lord..." Twilight hid her face with embarrassment.
Flash—quite oppositely—perked up with intense interest. "You? You sang?!"
"Mmmhmmm." Cadance finished her last bit of sushi and cleaned up after herself. "I did a lot of extra-curricular work during my tenure at Crystal Prep—and even in my primary school days preceding. I guess you could say I was a renaissance girl—I tried a bit of everything. Music. Shop. Sports. Band. Home Ec." She winked over at Twilight. "Babysitting."
"Hmmmmmm..." Twilight peaked up from her hands with a blushing smile. "She was a good at ittttttttt..."
"But for a while there—I found a passion in music!" Cadance clasped her hands together with a bright, cheesy smile. "'The Crystal Diva!' That's what they used to call me!"
Twilight giggle-snorted. Sunset rubbed her shoulders, smirking.
"What? So—I did some lounge singing." Cadance shrugged. "I'm not ashamed to admit it!" One eye thinned slightly. "...wasn't a huge fan of some of the places I stood on stage at—in hindsight. But... it was a fun... interesting time. And... for a while there... I performed on stage at the Muse's Melodies."
"Yes—it was the Crystal Prep version of the Battle of the Bands. One year—I sang as the front lady for a retro soft rock group called 'Shades of Fay Wray'." She sipped some water, then winked aside. "We were a tad bit experimental..."
"You also wore fishnets on stage," Twilight spoke into her hands again.
"And—yes—we did a lot of Rocky Horror Picture Show covers." Cadance weathered a coy grin. "With some great backup dancers, might I add."
"Unnngh..." Twilight echoed.
Cadance winked. "I made her come to a reunion show once... mmm... or twice."
Sunset laughed, patting Twilight's back. "I was there too. She sounded awesome."
"I think there's a recording somewhere..." Cadance rubbed her hands at the thought, then gazed amicably down at Flash. "Did you ever record performances of Flash Drive?"
"Uhhhhhh... I-I think so..."
"Maybe we could exchange samples someday." Cadance's teeth cracked through her sisterly smile. "Would you like that?"
Flash blinked—careful not to spill the stars in his eyes. "Yes..." He exhaled, the smile on his face melting dumb and dumber. "I think I would like that."
"Heehee~ Perfect!" Cadance rested her feminine hand on his shoulder, filling his world with that to-die-for perfume. "There's very little in this life I love more than sharing talent." She turned towards the other two. "Say—that reminds me. Rainbow's kids: the ones who kicked butt the other day at soccer... do any of them have plans to go professional?"
"No. Not really. Well—there's Scootaloo. But... she's kind of an exceptional case."
"Oh? Do tell?"
"Well, she and Rainbow have been looking into athletic scholarships in the area, but they're already having to look potentially out of state..."
As the conversation continued, Flash lagged far behind. In a cloud. He propped his chin against his hand, leaning against the bar as the world reeled—a tempestuous sea—with her voice and colors at the very center of the cyclone.
Their lunch continued for a considerable while longer. Flash Sentry seriously started believing that the entire event was staged—and that Twilight Sparkle was actually off for the day and just "faking" being at the labs as an excuse to steal some precious time with Principal Cadance. How Cadance herself afforded the time, Flash couldn't begin to guess. But he wasn't about to complain. He absorbed everything the woman had to say, laugh, giggle, or smile with the eagerness of a universal sponge.
The two were incredibly adorable together: Cadance and Twilight, that is. As it turned out, Cadance truly was the scientist's childhood babysitter. She even had old photos stored digitally on her pink phone to prove it—much to Twilight's blushing embarrassment. But for all of Twilight's show of flustered emotion, there was no denying the fact that she absolutely cherished Cadance—on a level of love that belonged to sisters, or perhaps something even more ardent. It was an adoration that Cadance more-than-returned in full... or beyond full.
To say that Flash felt jealous was an understatement, but he made no show of it. He had experienced insane crushes before, and surely this too would fade in time.
It would fade away, he thought, as he rode home with Sunset and Twilight that afternoon, still delighting in the smell of Cadance's floral/spicy perfume.
It would fade, he pondered, as he closed his eyes while taking a warm shower and thought about nothing but Cadance's pastel tresses, her pristine pink skin, her dazzling makeup and heart-melting smile.
It will fade, Flash insisted, standing before the microwave that night as a sad frozen dinner spun through the window, and all he could think about was her gentle hand rubbing his shoulder as she gave him words of encouragement and just to imagine...
Just to imagine... ...
Just to imagine an angel like that... ... ...
...singing.
What would she think about his old audio samples?
Would she question why his past voice was so much... deeper?
Would Cadance be confused that—in his past—Flash was far manlier? Far bigger? Far stronger?
How would she put two and two together—between the teenage hunk he almost was in the past and the insufferably wet napkin of a sissy he had been transformed into now?
She'd probably realize he was a freak—beyond saving—and abandon him entirely. Not that it mattered.
Not that it mattered.
Flash sighed. Minutes later, he placed his meal on a tray and trudged across the apartment towards his bedroom.
It didn't matter. Cadance was a principal. A mentor. A former babysitter.
She was only showing casual interest in him because she saw a soul who needed guidance.
That's all it was. That's all it ever was. Universal benevolence... a selfless sympathy that Flash couldn't ever come to understand.
And—as always—he was looking too much into it. He looked too much into everything.
Yes—Cadance asked for his old audio samples in exchange for hers. So what? It would be the same sort of attention she'd give to a young person like Scootaloo. She—at least—earned the attention. What had Flash earned? From anyone in life?
His head was bowed into the steam of his microwaved meal as he turned one final corner and—
"Gaah!" Sunset Shimmer bumped into him. "Watch it—!"
"Oh gosh!" Flash juggled his tray—nearly losing his dinner—before stumbling into a breathless stance. "Oh Sunset! I'm so sorry—"
"Snrkkkkt—hahahaha!" The woman laughed, resting a strong hand on his shoulder. "Will you relax? Why do you look like you just came back from a funeral?"
Flash blinked... then eventually rolled his eyes. Once again tricked by a telepath. "I'm... I-I'm tired, Sunset..."
"I believe you~"
"Sorry, I just..." He strolled past her and towards his room. "...gonna get up early in the morning. I'll do more chores. I promise."
"Flash—"
"Thanks for everything today—"
She turned as he walked by. "About today. How are you feeling?"
He stopped in place, turning around with the tray. He simply gave the woman a knowing squint.
"Yes. I know. But humor me." She folded her arms. "Please—answer me out loud. Face to face."
Typically, Flash would have given her the silent treatment. But this week had simply felt so different, and he hated the idea of relapsing back into the moody little butt monk.
"I'm..." Flash sighed, glancing aside as the tray in his grasp lowered slightly. "...I'm okay... but I'm not okay..."
Sunset nodded. "Sounds perfectly understandable."
"Really?" Flash blanched. "Sounds like the most confusing answer I've given anyone. Ever."
The woman chuckled warmly. "That's what makes it so honest and real." She walked over and knelt before him, bringing her gaze below his—a rare treat. "Flash... I was very neglectful of you today."
He tongued the inside of his mouth, avoiding her gaze. "I'm... not—like—your kid or nothing..."
"Flash, look at me."
Exhaling, he did so. Pretty sad eyes met a hard turquoise gaze.
Sunset squeezed his shoulder tenderly as she said: "Bringing you out to the mall—out there with so many people crowded around—that was short-sighted of me. I figured you would be ready for that again after how well your week has gone since the soccer meet-up... but..."
"It's not your fault, Sunset," Flash said. "You can't be helped for how pathetic I am these days."
"I wish you'd stop saying that."
"I wish someone else would just go ahead and say it." Flash nevertheless bore a hopeful little smile. "But—it wasn't so bad in the end. Really. Please don't—like—beat yourself up over it or nothing, Sunset. I'm... I'm not so bad off. Really."
Sunset raised her hand up, caressing the boi's hair. He didn't protest—and they both knew it. Among other things. Which is probably why the telepath then said out loud: "It's a good thing that Cadance was there, huh?"
Flash felt his heart beating. His grip of his tray hardened, causing it to shake a bit. "Cadance is... is..." Flash's mind blurted a lot of pretty, gorgeous, admirable adjectives that bounced off the walls of his skull, but he chose: "Nice."
Sunset fought the urge to snort. "Among other things. To be honest..." She stood up. "I kinda envy Twilight too."
Flash blinked. Hard. "You do?"
"Mmmm... a little. But... y'know..." Sunset stuck a tongue out. "Kinda too in love with the baby to drool over the babysitter."
"You make it sound like cradle robbing."
"Not all cradles gotta be tiny." Sunset waved. "Enjoy your meal, Flash. And if you want to sleep in for once—I won't complain." She walked off. "You've more than earned it this week."
Flash watched her feet shuffling across the aparment complex. His knees shook. He fought it—but eventually stammered: "Sunset?"
She shuffled to a pause near the turn in the hall. "Yeah, Flash?"
"Did... ... ... Cadance and I interact much? Y'know... before the blackout?" He bit his bottom lip. "Like... if we knew each other really well—like friends or something—you would at least tell me that, wouldn't you?"
"... ... ..." Sunset stared at him. Deadpan—with the slightest touch of ennui. "Eat well, Flash," she ultimately said, disappearing from beyond the hallway. "Before it gets cold."
"... ... ..." Flash slowly turned and retreated to his bedroom. Between the dark crawl of the evening and whatever he was vegetating to online, it took a damnably long time to finish that meal. Or anything—for that matter.
