Pinkamena hates being in control. It's a chore. But now Pinkie is gone from their shared head. Can a sourfaced split personality pass as her better half and solve the mystery of where Pinkie went? No to the first, yes to the second.
Pinkamena just wants to stay in her own lane. If Pinkie has a problem that needs yelled at, kicked at, or jeeringly tolerated until it goes away, she can handle it. But what’s a sourfaced split personality to do when her agreeable half vanishes overnight like a fart in the wind?
Pinkamena is not a sleuth. Nor a convincing actress. But she’ll need to be both to guise as Pinkie and solve the mystery of where her better half went.
What a pain in the flank.
(Teen rating for Pinkamena’s crassness and comically short temper.)
Its National Novel Writing Month! I'm breaking my regular short story conventions for a multi-chapter tale of fumbling comedy, uneasy mystery, and (most frightful of all) first-person narration.
I noticed something was wrong. Mostly because it was me doing the noticing.
Laughing, living, taking in the surroundings... that was Pinkie Pie's hobby, not mine. I don't think I'm the half that is able to feel 'happy,' but I do feel less annoyed whenever I’m zoned out for months on end, numb and ignorant. My stints in charge only start when life gets bad, and every time they end I hope Pinkie will never need to hide behind me again. Its a pointless hope, I know. Pinkie is who she is, and I am too. Its my job to grit our teeth whenever she has a Crisis with a capital "C."
So what was it now? Why was it me who felt the bedsheets wrapped around us? Who heard rain coming down outside? Who grunted and scratched our butt and sat up to see Pinkie Pie’s bedroom empty of anyone except for us? Scratch that, empty except for me.
As my better half would say, this was supery-dupery wrong.
“P...Pinkie?” I rasped. There was no response. No psychic jostle or reflexive tail twitch to confirm that yep, she was safely turtled up right now and no, she wasn’t coming out until I’d suffered through the Crisis on her behalf. There was no Crisis that I could see. And no answer from Pinkie.
I'm not the nervous one. Neither is Pinkie, I guess. Whenever something really upsets her, she shunts me the wheel to growl and moan and act all defiant on her behalf. But my gusto wasn't here. It was as if Pinkie took it with her when she left. I wrapped our -my- forelegs around us and held tight. I was supposed to be stern, dammit. Way long ago, Pinkie gathered every scrap of sternness she had, stuffing it into a mental wastebasket like so much used up confetti. A few years later, I crawled out of that same wastebasket. Now though, sitting on her bed with our head all to myself, I wasn't stern confetti. I was a string missing its balloon. Was this how Pinkie felt before she made me? All alone, pitifully afraid, and (I winced and rubbed our aching tummy)... saddled with a painfully tight knot in her stomach?
Hold it. Was this tummy ache the current Crisis? This I could handle. This I could fix.
I looked through the open bedroom door, out across the hall, and settled our eyes on the distant bathroom. If I hoofed us in the gut, hard and quick, I could vomit up whatever was ailing us. Attack the problem, like I always do. Like I was thought up to do.
I swished off the blankets and trudged toward the bathroom. Every fourth step was a jab of pain to the kidneys, so this had to be it. This was why Pinkie tossed me the controls. If I fix things, if I made the ache go away, I get to go away too. Sounded like what Pinkie would call an okily-dokily plan.
I got to the bathroom and stood up on our hinds. One foreleg was on the wall for support and the other got ready for a punch when the tummy knot seized again. It was so bad I had to sit down. The only seat was the toilet, and as soon as our butt was on it, instinct took over.
A few minutes later, I exited the bathroom with my embarrassed head down. I flopped back onto Pinkie’s bed. The tummy ache was gone, flushed away with the entire contents of our bladder.
“Pinkie you lazy bum,” I cursed at the ceiling. “That was humiliating. I’m not your personal pee courier, you know. I remember when you'd only drag me out for something serious.”
Dead silence.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” I rolled over, addressing the wall now. “Just don’t drink so much... whatever it was you drank before bed. It felt like a part of our guts were ruptured. Don’t do it again. One less problem you cause means one less I have to come out and solve. Win-win, am I right?”
Still nothing.
“Bucking answer me, dammit!” I thwapped the pillow like a bratty foal.
“Pinkie?” called Mr Cake’s voice from downstairs. “I heard the toilet flush. Are you up? You have work today, you know.”
I shut my pair of borrowed eyes and massaged our temples, trying to bury my rising panic.
“Okay Pinkie," I whispered, "you heard Landlord Lanky-Legs. You have a wonderful job to get to. Students to entertain, friends to frolic with. Doesn’t that sound great? I mean I personally think it sounds like the worst thing in Equestria, but you, you… you love that socially stimulating crap. C'mon.”
I slapped our face.
“Giddyup.” I slapped our face a tad harder.
“Pinkie, I’m begging you. Don’t make me do this. Remember the last time you gave me the reins and I moved us to Yakyakistan? I'm no good without you. By Faust, just a few minutes ago I didn’t even know what needing to pee felt like! Don’t have me go down there and talk to other ponies.”
“Pinkie Pie,” Mr Cake called again. “I’m putting two Ponish Muffins in the toaster for you. When they pop up, I’m coming to get you.”
“Okey-dokey-lokey!” I made my words as sing-song as possible, which wasn’t very much. “Just putting on my face!”
My volume dropped as my anger rose.
“Is this one of your stupid pranks? Huh? Have you gotten so bored so you’re just throwing me to the diamond dogs for a cheap laugh? Fine. Have it your way. I bet I’ll trash your life and reputation without even having to try.” I rolled off the bed and stood us up. “Unless, ya know, you want to stuff me back into my box. Stop me before it’s too late.”
She wasn’t biting.
“Fine! Be that way! I hope you’re watching good and close, because I am going to ruin you.”
I blew a stray hair out of our face as I marched towards the door, but when the same hair draped back down across our muzzle, I stopped. Already knowing what it would find, I ran a hoof through our mane.
Smooth and straight. Of course it was. A limp mane was my calling card, since when Pinkie retreated, so did her pomp. I couldn’t go downstairs looking like this. Looking like me.
Turning on our heels - actually they were my heels for now - I slumped over to the hair and makeup station in the bedroom corner. “Ooh, I bet you hate yourself now, Pinkie. Just had to ask Rarity for a gag gift last Hearthswarming.”
I pulled open a drawer and pulled out the punchline: a high-end curling iron, perfect for turning a flat lifeless mane into a styled mess. Pinkie and her friends had shared a good laugh about this thing. What a redundant tool, right? As if Pinkie’s mane would ever need to be made more chaotic than it already was.
I plugged the cord in. “Maybe your mane wouldn’t, but this is my mane now.” I bubbled out a dark chuckle, inching the iron’s searing plates closer to our head. “Here we go...”
Then, just like in the bathroom, I balked. I could feel the heat coming off the iron. I knew it was on. But I had no idea how to use it. Pinkie never bothered styling her mane, which meant I had no grooming knowledge or beauty skills to mooch from her memories. I stared cluelessly at my reflection. It stared cluelessly back. And the more I looked, the less Pinkie Pie I saw.
There was the flat hair. Obvious. But I also brought a harsher, uglier glint to our eyes. A tendon in our neck was stretched noticeably tight and no amount of flexing I tried seemed to make it relax. My posture was way worse than Pinkie’s, shoulders down like a deflated balloon animal and head slung forward like those vultures we use to see circling the old family rock farm. If Pinkie was a windup toy with a permanently twisted spring, I was the same toy after the turning key got busted and lost. And even if I could fix all of it, doll up my mane, roll back my shoulders, brighten my eyes... the pitiful disguise would fall apart as soon as I spoke with my own bitter nasty words instead of Pinkie's loving nice ones.
I set the curling iron on a makeup towel and leaned back. The pony in the mirror did the same, defeated before she’d even begun playing. Together, she and I listened to the rain outside.
“Pinkamena Diane Pie,” I drawled, trying and failing to find some sweetness in my own name. “You’re a silly little pony. Not silly like Pinkie, not in the way that makes the foals smile and old folks nod in approval. Nah, you’re silly because you actually believed for a minute you could make it out there. You’re not sick in the head Pinkamena; you are the sick in the head. A pony with a cold can walk around and hide the fact she has one, but a cold can’t walk around pretending to be a pony. It doesn’t work backwards like that. You don’t work backwards like that.”
“Pinkie," Mr Cake called, "your Ponish Muffins are up! And so will I in a minute if you don’t come down.”
“Hear that?” I asked the sourfaced mirror. “They’ll be coming for you soon. And after you get asked where the real Pinkie is, you’ll say you don’t know. But of course no one will believe you." I leaned in, leering over the reflected pony whose eyes were brimming with tears. "And then Twilight Sparkle will get called in to investigate what happened to her friend, and her guards’ll cuff you and beat you and force you to say you’re an impostor and then they’ll throw you in the dungeon-“
The cotton towel I’d laid the curling iron on burst into flames.
“Aaagh!” I let out a very un-Pinkie-like yelp and fell backwards from the fiery flare.
“Oh buck. Oh buck… oh shit!"
The flareup had caught the edge of a photo taped to the makeup mirror and was beginning to spread. I scrambled up to standing position and searched frantically for something to put out the fire. Snatching a vase of petunias off the dresser, I whipped around and sloshed in the direction of the makeup station. The vase soaked everything from my forelegs to my face with flower petals and fruity-smelling water.
After irritably rubbing the splashback out of my eyes I saw that, despite the mess, I’d put the fire out. At least I wouldn’t be charged with arson when the guards hauled me away. Yay. Blow the party favors.
Hoofsteps were coming up the stairs. Guess this was it for me. Pinkamena’s daring impersonation adventure was going to end before it could begin. Disgusted, I reached up to unplug the curling iron from the wall.
The world went stark white as my wet foreleg took Faust knows how many bolts of electric shock. Enough bolts to hurt. To hurt a lot. I could feel frothiness forming in my mouth as my saliva boiled. Using all the strength I still had, I wrenched the curling iron’s cord from the wall socket, toppling over for the second time. Balled up on the floor, still twitching, I heard hoofsteps in the hall now, nearly at the door.
I was too nauseous to check, but a thought occurred that maybe electrocuting myself like that had made my mane frizzy and wild. I cackled, knowing I was probably just delirious. But it was funny to imagine that in the most warped and roundabout way, the curling iron had done its job and made me passable as Pinkie.
I was still grinning like a madmare when the bedroom creaked open and Mr Cake poked his head in.
“Pinkie, would you like jam or honey on-“
He took in the sight of me on the carpet, wet and posed like a freshly squeezed out fetus with the curling iron's cord wrapped on one hoof and an empty flower vase clutched in the other.
Ball was in my court.
“I uh…” Eccentric airhead, I reminded myself. Pour it on thicker than strawberry syrup. "I tripped over my own four hooves. Never too early for some morning clowning, am I right?”
“Uh huh,” Mr Cake replied. “Here, let me help you clean up.” He got closer. Enough to pick up the makeup towel and stare dumbfounded at the burn hole in its center.
“Do you really wanna know?” I challenged. Then I winced, conscious that snipe hadn’t been very Pinkie-ish.
Thankfully, Mr Cake just chuckled and set the towel back down. “No worries, Pinkie. Sorry for barging in before you got yourself together for the day.”
“Me? Not together? Pssh-shaw!” I peeled myself off the carpet with all the fake enthusiasm I had, staggering on hooves that were still numb. I ended up on the other side of the room, near a shuttered window.
Bubbly. Bubbly and extroverted. C’mon, you clumsy sadsack.
“W-Why be a party pooper when you can be a party trooper, am I right?” I fumbled with the shutter’s latch, forgetting what was out there. “It’s a new day, friends! Let in the sun!”
The window covers blew open and I fought through a torrent of pouring rain until I closed them again.
“Um…” I was stunned and wetter than ever, still feeling Mr Cake's puzzled concern on my back. “Um…,” I repeated, “I can weather the weather too. Isn’t sunshiney-ness more of a state of mind anyway?” I turned back around and bared a mouthful of teeth. My equivalent of a smile.
Gods above and below, somepony get the hook and haul the sad clown offstage already.
Mr Cake did not haul me offstage. Instead he smiled back, shaking his head at my yammering.
“I’ll leave you to it, Pinkie. I got a pastry delivery to move through the rain, but your food’ll be on the table before I’m gone. I promise.” He bowed out and the door closed.
My attention went back to that far off makeup mirror. My 'smile' was the least convincing rictus grin in history. Also, my mane still wasn't frizzy. It was just as lifeless as when I’d woken up.
And yet... at least one pony had bought it. That was a start.
A clap of thunder accompanied my kicking the door to Pinkie’s room open again. I shook myself dry while trotting towards the stairs. Also towards Mr Cake’s promise of freshly toasted Ponish Muffins. Whatever the Current Crisis was, whatever Pinkie had called me up for and hid away from, I wasn’t going to conquer it while hungry.
“You might be the one with the sweet tooth, Pinkie, but I haven’t eaten in months." I licked my incisors and picked up my pace. "What a wonderfully rotten day to be me.”
My promised Ponish Muffins were in the kitchen. So were two obnoxious foals in highchairs.
"Ah, Pinkie! Bless you for always knowing when you're needed."
Mrs Cake had a spoon in one hoof and a bowl of mashed carrots in the other. There were orange splatters on her apron, the highchairs, the tablecloth, pretty much everywhere except the mouths of the flailing excited little crotch dumplings. "The twins are surlier than normal today!"
Mm-hm, so is your pink tenant. I'm at least planning to eat quietly.
A dinging noise came from the bakery telegraph, and my hooves were suddenly filled with the spoon and carrot bowl.
"I'll get that. Here, take these." Mrs Cake was wiping herself off as she hobbled to the counter. "You're the best with the twins and I know feeding them is your favorite part of the morning. Would you work your magic and settle them both down?"
"But... muffins," I mumbled, not really sounding like Pinkie. More like that walleyed grey marechild who sometimes delivers our party invitations.
Mrs Cake didn't hear me. She was already at the telegraph, focused on whatever order was coming through. I stirred the bowl of orange mush while Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake eyed me suspiciously.
"H-hey kiddos. You see your old gal Pinkie Pie, right?"
Pumpkin burst into tears. Which I guess was her way of saying 'no.'
"Pinkie, please stop fooling around. I need to listen to Starlight's order over here."
My breathing was getting heavy. So were the bowl and spoon in my hooves. Pumpkin Cake kept crying and crying and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Pinkie would be singing a nursery rhyme by now. Or using the spoon as a puppet show prop. Or something other than just standing here getting angry.
I don't solve problems in nice ways. But nice ways are the only type you're allowed when dealing with foals in diapers. Even a meanie like me knew that.
I was sort of having my own Current Crisis right now. But instead of a friend from my head coming to the rescue, I had Mrs Cake back from the telegraph. She scooped up the crying one and bounced her a few times.
"Goodness Pinkie, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd be so slow after a late night out."
My ears went from flat to strait up.
"I was out late last nigh-?"
Pumpkin's wails drowned me out and kept Mrs Cake's attention. I heard some gurgles and remembered Pound Cake was still there. Forgotten by his mom because he was the quiet kid. My sister Marble could relate.
"Hey kiddo," I tried again. "How's your morning been going?"
Pound didn't cry. But he did blow a clumsy grumpy raspberry, and that made me like him.
"I feel ya."
I tried to smile. That was a mistake.
Just like upstairs, I only managed to bare my teeth and open my eyes too wide to be friendly. Mr Cake had been across the room and also able to leave after I made my nightmare face. But Pound Cake was up close, and when his flapping little wings weren't enough to carry him out of his chair and away from me, he made a few sputtering sounds that were a lot like the ones coming from his sister.
Mrs Cake heard me. Making her other kid cry just like the first. She was looking hard now, at my limp mane and my shaking knees and everything else that gave me away as a terrible incomplete head cold trying to be a pony. I think it was Mrs Cake's face, and me feeling in my bones I was about to get caught, that made me scrunch my eyes shut and do what I did next. No matter what, I was not going to let Pound Cake cry too.
So I stuffed a heaping spoonful of mashed carrots in his mouth.
I'm not gentle. But I did my best to not be rough either. It helped that Pound Cake's frizzy baby mane made his head kind of the same shape as Pinkie Pie's. Or maybe it didn't matter at all, since right away Pound began nomming his breakfast, my scary face forgotten.
Mrs Cake sighed in relief and said something to me. I couldn't her over the rain pouring outside and the blood thumping in my head. Because I had just stopped a baby from crying. I had made the day better for a mom who needed it.
I did that.
Me. Pinkamena.
"Pinkie Pie? I said thank you."
"Yes ma'am! Always happy to help!"
It wasn't hard right now to fake being chipper. Maybe I wasn't really faking. That thought made me sick, so I had to slump into a chair at the breakfast table. I searched my muscle memory to see if this was Pinkie's seat. Its answer was that Pinkie doesn't generally sit down for anything.
"Don't forget Pumpkin either, dearie." Mrs Cake was back behind the counter. I smelled coffee being brewed, black and strong. Not as strong as Pumpkin Cake's scowl though, back in her high chair and glaring at me like the stranger I was. Oh boy, did I ever want to trot away with my Ponish Muffins and leave her just sitting there. I didn't though, since I knew Pinkie Pie wouldn't want me to. And I guess Pumpkin Cake knew that too, because her tiny horn lit up and the bowl of carrots rose out of my hoof.
"Hey! Put that down, you-"
Pumpkin blew a raspberry, louder and brattier than her brother's. Then the bowl was on her tray, getting licked clean. Pound Cake giggled at the show, still gumming his rubber spoon like a toy. I grunted and gave up. There were babies on both sides of me, and neither one was crying. It was the best I could do for now.
"Wonderful work, Pinkie! And with a much smaller mess than usual, too." Mrs Cake was back. I knew better than to try to smile at her, so I started chatting instead.
"Who was that on the telegraph?"
Mrs Cake bit her lip. "Starlight was, Pinkie. I already told you that."
Buck. She did, didn't she?
"Aw, sure. Right. Well... you know me. Brain more scattered than crumbs on a plate of Ponish Muffins!" I grabbed one and tore in.
Did Pinkie talk while eating? Never mind, that's a dumb question. Pinkie talks while doing everything.
"You thaid that I wathf..." I coughed and swallowed. "You said that I was out supery dupery late last night. Where did... um..."
I realized too late that there was no good way to word this question.
When Pinkie and I were little, she would stay up past bedtime to read story after story of Fetlock Holmes. A sneaky detective who was great at getting answers without talking to others. I really should have paid better attention in those days. Or paid better attention to our life in general, because Mrs Cake just noticed another mistake.
"Since when do you eat pastries with no toppings?"
I hissed, fumbling with a nearby jar of jam and scooping what I hoped was a Pinkie Pie-sized glop onto my food. Then I added another glop. Just to be safe. Feeling three sets of eyes on me, I glopped a third before biting into the slab of jelly that had bread buried somewhere underneath.
My tongue hated what it tasted. Not a big surprise, since I'm me. But in the tug of war between my gag reflex at my panic at being found out, panic was the winner. Gag got choked down, along with a big red wad of sugary jelly.
"Mmmm..." I slurred. "Strawberry. Puts the spring in a pink pony's step. Or something."
A banging noise made me flinch, but it was just Pumpkin Cake throwing her emptied bowl at the table.
"Pumpkin, really!" Mrs Cake scolded. "That's enough breakfast for today." The twins babbled helplessly as their mother scooped them both up. Pound Cake babbled loudest, since he'd done nothing wrong and he knew it.
"I'm terribly sorry, Pinkie. Would you... um..." Mrs Cake was looking at the messy table. Then she was looking at her messier foals.
"I'll clean the dishes," I cut in. It was that or help hose down the carrot-coated kids.
"Thank you. But don't let yourself be late for work."
Mrs Cake staggered off towards the washroom, which was the wrong direction if you ask me. With how hard the rain was coming down, it'd be easier to just let the gremlins run around in the back yard for a bit.
I made a noise that was almost a laugh and pushed my seat back. This was my niche. Fixing up a room and staying away from others. I once turned the storeroom attic into a party of one, a long time ago. Not my proudest project, but one of my bigger and more successful ones. The memory made my shoulders slope and teeth click, but that was my version of feeling relaxed. Too bad the awful taste of sugar was still haunting me.
I dumped my ruined Ponish Muffins in the trash. Pink hair was back in my eyes, so I swept them aside after dumping the dishes in the sink. My mane was a reminder that I still had work to do. That I still had a Crisis to solve.
Just as soon as I figured out what it was.
Lightning flashed outside as I smacked my lips. Having Pinkie's brain cells made it hard to focus even at the best times, but sugar mouth really wasn't helping. Maybe if I chugged some tap water before I left...
My gaze landed on the thermos of freshly brewed coffee.
It wasn't mine. I knew that. But really, what was? What in the wide world of Equestria belonged to Pinkamena? Not the hooves that were picking the thermos up. Not the eyes that were locked on the washroom door or the ears straining to hear any signs of Mrs Cake coming back. None of them were mine.
But at the moment, no one else was using any of these. Not Pinkie, not Starlight. Would it really be that selfish if I just took a sip? Its not like I had much of a self to be selfish about anyway. More quiet than a broken noisemaker I reached out and popped the tab on the thermos lid.
Thunder crashed. So loud and so close I actually yelped like a spooked little filly. My forelegs flailed, missing the thermos but smacking the cash register. The drawer dinged and knocked a plate of candies onto the tiles below.
I cussed and scuffled to my knees on the dirty kitchen floor. Those candies were handouts. Or "complimentary", or whatever fancy word there was for it. The bottom line is that they're supposed to be free for customers. Hand the happy horsey their receipt with one hoof, present their thank-you gift with the other. Pinkie used to sneak mouthfuls from the plate while working her shift at the register. It took the Cakes months to find a flavor she couldn't stomach.
"Value brand Salt Lick lozenges," I read aloud off one of the wrappers. These things were sweet tooth anti-matter.
I replaced the refilled plate on the countertop, then turned to leave. The kid in the candy store needed to buck up and go be a teacher at the Friendship School. Rain was still pouring and my mouth was still sick with sweetness, but at this point I was too deflated to care. Just like upstairs, I'd gotten too big for my haunches. I'd gotten greedy and uppity and (worst of all) forgetful of what I am. Of what I'm not. If Pinkie were here, she'd be disappointed with me. I'm sure of it.
I trudged past the umbrella stand. It was empty, since Mr Cake had taken the only one with him for deliveries. But even if there had been an umbrella, I wouldn't have grabbed it. Umbrellas were like lozenges and thermoses of coffee. They were for real ponies. They weren't for me.
I kicked open the front door of Sugarcube Corner. Rain blew in, but only for the second it took to have the latch swing shut behind me. I trotted forward, one forelimb defensively held to my chest.
Striking out without even a set of horseshoes on my feet, I ignored the downpour. My jaw was clenched as I braced against the chill, the wind, and the wetness seeping past my fur and into my skin.
There I went again. Saying "my" over and over like I had the right to use that word.
After a few blocks of shuffling, I felt something else. Heavy, metallic, warm. A foreleg wasn't the only thing tucked close to this chest. I kept trudging, too guilty to look down, but I could feel them. Tight in the elbow crook, like a filly gripping a stuffed Smarty Pants doll, I had the thermos of coffee and one salt lick lozenge. Both things were unopened. Undeserved.
The School of Friendship was on the opposite side of town. I didn't know the route, but my legs did. Plus, I don't think there was a spot in Ponyville where you couldn't see those big eyesore spires or the colossal crystal castle next door. Even in this weather. I shifted the thermos from one hoof to the other as I trotted. To kill time, I also practiced my Pinkie impression.
"Good morn... no wait. Great morning, class. Doesn't today have just the peachiest-keeniest stormclouds you've ev- Plegh! Thplplplpt!"
The rainy headwind made talking hard.
"Phooey!" I retched and spat. Then retched a second time for good measure. "Son of a broodmare!"
Pinkie Pie wasn't supposed to cuss. But at the same time, rain wasn't supposed to taste like coal and ash. Ponyville had a weather team, didn't it? I'm almost sure it does. Way back, when Twilight fumbled some spell that swapped everyone's Cutie Marks, Rarity got stuck on cloud duty. She was pretty bad in her new role. All of us were. For sure a Crisis with a capital "C", which is the reason Twilight found me kicking trees at the orchard instead of Pinkie Pie. My better half had given up after two tries and two failures. It wasn't like I was any better (we had the same legs, after all), but I kept kicking. I kicked til our shoes broke and the hooves beneath started to split and blister. Because if I didn't do the job right, who would? Who did Pinkie have after me?
It was probably a good thing that Twilight showed up when she did. I don't know how close I was to collapsing, but I do remember going away after Pinkie reclaimed her real Cutie Mark. And it was a very, very long time before I came back again. At least a year, judging by how healed up our hooves had gotten. Nowadays, you could barely see any scars.
A fresh faceful of sooty rain brought me sniffling back to the here and now. At least I'd had our mouth shut for this one.
It was absolutely pouring now. The street had tiny raging rivers rippling around our hooves, and the clouds above were so thick that it felt more like midnight than mid-morning. But still I slogged forward, thermos hugged tight even though there wasn't an ounce of warmth left in it. The one thing I could see through the torrent was the School of Friendship's spires. They were this pair of purple beacons, too gaudy to be snuffed out by the miserable murk. There was nopony else on the road. I guess I was the only one dumb or stubborn enough to keep pushing against the dirty wind. Maybe I'll get lucky and find that classes were canceled due to bad weather. That thought was enough to make me trot faster.
The old family rock farm used to have storms like this. Nasty sooty ones, I mean. "Faust draining her sink" was what Limestone used to call it. My oldest sister and I were tight in those days when we acted the same. We would keep hauling when the rest of the family didn't. Even in the rain. It was Limestone who taught me how to square my shoulders like a workmare. How to tilt my head to keep my eyes dry. I was doing both those things now. I'd even moved the thermos to my back, to pretend it was a rock I was hauling. My stomps were getting steadier. The puddles I splashed through were getting easier.
Old habits and skills. They were starting to come from the old days. From before that afternoon where the Rainboom happened and life changed. But that memory, the last one that I could really call "mine," wasn't helpful right now. I focused on my plowhorse trot. A slow but steady type of walking that kept three hooves on the ground at all times. I made my way down the street, fumbling on legs that were more practiced for skipping and dancing.
I think making stomps on those skippy hooves was why I soon fell face down in the mud. Well, that and a puddle I tried to splash through ended up being deeper than it looked. Wiping my muzzle and cussing again, I couldn't hear much over the pounding rain and ringing in my ears. I did see the thermos rolling away though. Back down the street where I'd come from. Like a zombie, I shambled after it. My twisted ankle ached, my coat was smeared, and my awful, lifeless mane was flailing like a flag on a sinking ship. But somehow I caught up and dove on top of the thermos. I clutched the metal close. There wasn't an ounce of warmth left, but with the salt lick lozenge lost, it was all I had brought. All I still had. The only mercy here was having nopony around to judge me for being so pathetic. Not even Pinkie Pie.
And boy, was it tempting to just keep lying here. The rain sheets were kind of like bed sheets, if I imagined hard enough. I had no plan for when I got to the School of Friendship, anyway. What would I do there? What was I expecting to find? Pinkamena was only good for kicking at stuff and raging. As if those skills were enough to solve the mystery of where Pinkie Pie went.
I'm not sure how long I sat stewing in the flooded street. Long enough to eventually sit up and fold my forelegs. Maybe I'd still be pouting in that spot to this very day if a pony-shaped smudge hadn't come cantering around the corner. The smudge was trotting against the wind just like I'd been doing, and the wind wasn't treating her any nicer. She did jump in surprise when she saw me though. Then promptly teleported over.
"Pinkie?? Holy Tartarus, where's your raincoat and galoshes? I didn't think I'd actually catch up to you!"
I was confused. Who was this, again? I didn't have a name for this unicorn, even though I really should. She wasn't Twilight. That was all my memories could cough up.
"Oh my gosh, that thermos. I knew it. I showed up late, and Mrs Cake said you'd left, and... oh Pinkie, you shouldn't have put yourself through all this rain just to try to deliver my drink."
Starlight Glimmer. The pony whose coffee I stole. My forelimbs fell limply to my lap as the ice cold container levitated out of them.
"I... I'm super sorry, Glimglam. Your drink is all-"
"Hot and toasty!" Starlight had the tab popped, sniffing the steam from inside and smiling. "Oh Pinkie, I feel awful that you went through all this for me." Her smile went away and she put her hoof out. With nothing better to do, I took it.
Up on my feet again, I noticed Pinkie was the same size as Starlight. A little taller actually, but my slouch meant I stood eye to eye with her. She looked me over, top to bottom.
"Rough morning?"
I swear I almost cracked right then and there. I wanted so badly to give myself up, to spill Pinkie's best kept secret and let Starlight do whatever she felt like with me. I was just so done stumbling around and pretending that I wasn't still helpless. Still pitiful. Still me.
But I didn't. I was either too proud or too scared to come clean. So instead I said something else.
"You're all dry."
"Eh? Oh!" Starlight Glimmer tossed her head, with the rain droplets curving in the air to avoid her. Her mane was combed and neat. Her coat was clean and brushed. I think her nose even had a little bit of makeup that she'd put on it. Not an inch of Starlight Glimmer's body was being touched by the storm coming down.
"Yeah, its umm... just a super simple water ward. Little spritzy spell that keeps a pony's hooves free from needing an umbrella. Or boots. Or anything, really."
My waterlogged mane clung to my face. Starlight's shoulders slumped at the sight.
"Oh jeez, I didn't... I mean, it only just occur... hang on. Stand still for just a second, Pinkie."
Her horn gave a quick flash that made me tingle. I was still sopping wet, but the raindrops curving around me meant I wasn't getting any wetter. I took some test steps down the road, seeing the puddles move to avoid me. Starlight followed behind.
"I usually just teleport to work," she explained. "But with the pep rally today, I swung by your place to get a pick-me-up. I'm not a peppy morning mare. Not like you."
I chuffed at that, then bit my nervous lip. I wasn't being a convincing Pinkie right now. I tried to fix that before Starlight noticed.
"Doesn't today have just the peachiest-keeniest stormclouds you've ever seen?"
Smooth as broken glass, you dunce. My luck was somehow holding though, since Starlight's annoyed frown was angled towards the sky instead of towards me.
"Bleh! Look at this filthy stuff coming down. So much for there being no storm scheduled for today."
"No?" I focused up at the sky too. The water ward was amazing at keeping our eyes clear. "Well, its been raining cats and diamond dogs all morning. What phony pony full-of-baloney promised that there'd be clear skies?"
Starlight sipped her floating coffee. She also gave me a look. A bad one.
"You did, Pinkie. Last night at the staff party."
"Huh?!"
I was suddenly sweating, the water ward flicking droplets away from Pinkie's skin. This was a discovery, but also a super serious bungle. And Starlight wasn't a stupid pony. She was eyeing me, and I could feel as we walked that my mane was getting drier but not curlier. Just a minute ago, I'd been ready to come clean about not being Pinkie Pie. Now I was desperate to keep the layers of lies in place. Starlight's squinted eyes were still boring into me, and her walk was slowing to put distance between us. I flailed around for way to dig myself out of this. Then randomly remembered waking up this morning with a full bladder.
"Oh. Oh yeah. Silly me, forgetting like that. I was really tossing back ciders at the staff party, huh?"
Starlight shrugged. "I dunno. Hope this doesn't break your heart Pinkie, but I was talking to Twilight for most of the night." She was walking at my pace again. Not catching up, but also not getting further away. Or was it 'farther' away in this case? There was a rule Pinkie had memorized. Farther was walking distant. Further was thinking distant. And father was emotionally distant.
I flinched at Starlight suddenly trotting next to me again. Maybe the coffee made her a peppy morning mare after all. At least in the legs. She was peering ahead, at the spires. They were getting pretty close.
"We don't see Twilight very often these days," she mourned. "The rest of us all busy teaching, her being all busy... princess-ing. It gives everypony time to miss each other, and gives us an excuse for a party whenever she has time to visit. Even if its just for business, like today."
Starlight glanced at me, and I shrugged as playfully as I could fake. I hoped that if I kept quiet, Starlight might keep talking so I wouldn't have to. She did.
"Has it really been a whole year since the last time she stopped by School of Friendship? Twilight hasn't aged a day. She still acts the same, though. Only Twilight Sparkle could stress over giving a silly founder's speech at the annual pep rally. And talk my ear off about it the whole evening beforehoof. It really doesn't matter what we call ourselves, does it? Principal Glimmer. Princess Sparkle. We're still the same worried little ponies we were back then. Still toting around our old baggage."
"You tote your baggage better than some other ponies do."
Starlight snorted into her thermos, which covered my scared hissing. I hadn't meant to say that out loud. Still, I got to unclench my jaw when I realized Starlight's snorting was actually laughing.
"I'll have to trust you on that one, Pinkie. Sorry for being so blue right now. It's this weather. We probably have to move the pep rally inside for this afternoon. Will that go over well? Do ya think that's doable?"
"Umm... sure. Pack the kids in the gymnasium like candies in a gumball machine. Twilight isn't an outdoorsy pony anyway."
"Ha! Thanks for your party planner perspective, Pinkie."
Starlight playfully shoved my shoulder, and I let her do it. Not because I felt out of her crosshairs, but because we were climbing the front steps of the School now, and I was super scared of my luck running out. Soon I could slink away from her. Get safe and free from this useless conversation about yesterday night. Starlight's magic lit up the door and pulled at the handle.
"To be honest Pinkie, I don't know why you're so quiet and downbeat this morning, but it makes you a good listener. I like it."
My furious hoof slammed the door back to being closed. Starlight blinked away the air gust while echoes of my punch repeated around the hillsides like thunder.
"Take that back," I snarled.
"H-huh?"
The water ward was pulling new droplets now. Ones that were forming on my eyes. Pinkie's whole body shook, and it wasn't from cold or fear.
"What you just said. That you like me this way."
"Um..."
"Take it back right... bucking... now."
Starlight Glimmer was studying me. At the time, I was too hazy with rage and hurt to tell, but I think that was the moment she caught on. To what, she didn't know yet. But she knew for sure, with a hundred and ten percent certainty, that this thing leering through a curtain of limp hair, frothing at its mouth and shivering with empty, helpless self-hatred, definitely wasn't Pinkie Pie. And whatever this monster was, Starlight had enough sense to not make it any more upset than she already had.
"Okay, Pinkie." She was holding her empty thermos tight and tense, but her voice was quiet. Like a pony who'd stumbled into the path of a rabid timberwolf. "I take it back. Whatever it was that you didn't like."
A tightness in my chest released. I blinked my eyes clear, seeing that Starlight's mane was wet with her nose makeup running. Looking back, I guess that moment was also when the shared water ward ran out.
"So... are you going to let me inside now?"
I couldn't speak. It felt like I couldn't breathe, even though I heard raggedy gasping noises that definitely weren't coming from Starlight. I rushed inside without any plan, sprinting past surprised students and coworkers. Greyish runoff trailed behind as I ran down what I realized was the hall to Pinkie's classroom. I didn't know or care what I would find inside. I just wanted to escape from Starlight Glimmer and her horrific compliment. Moving mindlessly and wishing that was what I truly was, I ran and ran and kept on running until I burst into the Social Studies lecture hall. Then I threw all the weight I had against the door behind me.
My eyes were scrunched shut. Even if they weren't though, there wasn't much to see with a forehead pressed hard against the classroom door.
Sure, there was a tall thin window that looked out into the hall, (Pinkie remembered it being there, and I myself had saw it when I rushed in), but I'd made sure to be on the side of it, mashed tight up to the bright painted wood. Frozen. Cornered. Waiting for Starlight to charge down the hall and throw open the door or teleport behind me to do whatever it was she needed to end Pinkamena's embarrassing failure of an undercover adventure.
But nothing was happening.
Slowly, even more slowly than a dropped salt lick lozenge melting in the rain, my heavy panting gasps calmed down. They got quiet. Less panicked. And that was when I heard other sounds. Not just the storm outside pounding on the roof, but pencils tapping on notebooks. Shifting scrapes from moving chairs. Grunts and coughs. All from in this room.
I was achy-legged and empty-bellied. I was dripping from rain mixed with sweat. I really didn't want to straighten up and turn around, because I knew exactly what was there. But I had to keep going. For Pinkie. I sucked in a breath, held it, and faced them. Thirty students at desks, all waiting to be taught by the Element of Laughter.
"G-good morning, class."
"Good morning, Professor Pie."
Loud. Very loud. I hadn't been ready for that. I think this was the most amount of ponies I've ever talked to at once, even though most of them looked antsy, tired, or distracted. Two unicorns in the back were passing notes. At least three pegasi were chewing gum. One student near the front wasn't even a pony; he was a bored, feathery blue griffon whose slumping posture put even mine to shame. I almost respected that. He had a slouch that could only come from a lifetime of practice.
There was a lecture podium a few steps away from me. It had a chest-high desk thingy, perfect to put between my pounding heart and the dozens of eyeballs looking my way. I trotted over, tail down and dragging because I had no idea what lecture to give when I got there. It was like one of those bad dreams Pinkie used to have, where she'd realize she showed up for work naked and unprepared. Except those dreams ended with her remembering that ponies are always naked, improvising a lesson plan on the spot, and then waking up full of smiles and triumph.
None of that was helpful to me right now. I didn't have my better half's improv skills, and if Pinkie was going to jolt back to the waking world, she would have done that when Starlight insulted her. Some of the students weren't even naked. They had raincoats on. I was zero for three with Pinkie's trusty dream logic.
When I got to the podium, I nearly cried with relief. There was a stack of lecture notes laid out for today. I didn't care that they were messy, foalish sentences scribbled in pink gel pen. That just made them all the more Pinkie, all the more precious. If there were any clues to her disappearance, they would be right here written by her own hoof. Or mouth, more likely. I fanned out the cards and brushed my mane from my face. Optimism wasn't my shtick, but I dared to believe that this mane wouldn't be mine for much longer.
"Alrighty, class. Let's see, it looks like today's lecture is on-"
"Aren't you gonna take attendance, Professor?"
The bored blue griffon had leaned forward to ask that. He was staring out the window, watching the rain come down. But I guess he cared enough to pipe up.
I sighed and I pushed the lecture note cards back into a pile. They would have to wait. The clues to the Crisis with a capital "C".
"Um... sure. Sorry. Little bit distracted this morning."
The griffon rolled his eyes as I pulled out the seating chart.
One name at a time. Breathe, Pinkamena.
"Okay. We have... Kettlecorn?"
"Here."
"Zipporwhill?"
"Here."
"Gallus?"
The griffon grunted.
"Honey Drop?"
And so on. Pinkie Pie did this every day, but for me it took awhile to get through all thirty-one names. I had to repeat myself over the pounding rain at least twice, and I also mispronounced "Ocellus" (the only student who was absent). Turns out I'm a weak public speaker. Though to be fair, I don't get much practice. Frustrated muttering to myself doesn't count.
Eventually, the attendance list was done.
"Huh. I mean... wowie zowie. Looks like we're all here today except one."
Except two, if you count Pinkie Pie.
I shook the thought away and gripped the notecards she'd left.
"I guess you all hopped out of bed all eager for some Pie-branded worldly wisdom, huh?"
Murmuring came from the class, but none of it had vibes of excitement. I noticed that Gallus wasn't the only one looking listlessly looking at the buckets pouring down outside.
"What's wrong, class? Rainy day got everypony down?"
Why in Tartarus did I care? Maybe I was only okay with my own wallowing. Not anyone else's.
"No offense Professor," Gallus was picking at a frayed feather on his wing. "But ponies were excited for the yearly pep rally today. I was too, til I saw how hard it was coming down out there this morning." Fed up with his feather, he jabbed a thumb talon toward the window. "No assembly or speech from Twilight this year, huh? Not with the field underwater."
I frowned. It was a natural face for me.
"The pep rally's not off," I announced. A few students actually looked my way, and one of the bubble gum pegasi actually paused her chewing. "Its just getting moved to the gym. Starl- I mean Principal Starlight said so on her way in."
The murmurs were louder now. Hopeful faces were replacing flat ones. My heart was thumping, just like it had when I stopped Pound Cake from crying at breakfast. The classroom right now was that moment multiplied by thirty. I wanted to smile, but I bit my lip and sadly suppressed it. My grins were still ugly grimaces. It wasn't safe for me to make them. The sooner Pinkie Pie was back and in control of our face, the better.
"Okay, everycreature, settle down. We still have class to get through before the pep rally this aftern-"
The classroom door swung open and I jumped almost out of my fur.
I had this horrible image of Starlight Glimmer charging through that entryway with her horn blazing, conjured like a vengeful demon because I'd just said her name out loud. Instead, a head poked in from the hall. Not Starlight's, but one just as scary-looking. Big lidless eyes that bulged from a sickly blue skull with no skin on it. The air was scared out of my borrowed lungs, which was good, because otherwise I'd definitely have been screaming.
"Oh," Gallus mumbled. "Hi there, Ocellus."
Bug student. Of course. Completely out of the blue for me, but just another normal day for Pinkie Pie.
"Hey everyone," the changeling mumbled shyly. She shuffled inside. "Sorry that I'm tardy. I got pulled aside by... um... nevermind. Sorry." I was still sucking wind when she nodded at me. "Hello, Professor Pie. Nice new manestyle." I flinched as she flittered past and settled into the last empty desk in the back row. The moment of panic had passed, but now all thirty-one students were seated. Looking at me. My hair especially, now that someone had pointed it out.
I had to deflect. ASAP.
"Righty-o. I know we're all a teensy bit bogged down from walking to class through the storm this morning." I scratched my wet neck, then made a big deal of flicking the water off my hoof. "Some of us more boggy than others, as Ocellus pointed out. But how 'bout we warm ourselves right up with today's..." I glanced at the lecture note. "Species Spotlight? Which is...er..." I double-checked the first notecard.
"Today we're learning about... Kirin!"
I paused for any excited responses. There weren't any. Were the kids all saving their energy for the pep rally?
Of course not. I'm just bad at projecting cheerfulness. Still, I had to keep trying. My missing half had left me with this lesson today. It was my only lead, and I was antsy to chase it.
Scooping up the lecture notes, I paced back and forth at the front of the room. Not confident enough to skip, but not dumb enough to stay still while impersonating Pinkie Pie.
"Let's get started off super simple, my little ponies. Who knows what a Kirin is?"
Anyone? Because I don't.
A colt with glasses raised his hoof. I pointed at him, since I didn't remember his name.
"Is it... a dragon?"
A few other students laughed. Not very nicely, which clued me in that no, Kirin weren't dragons. A filly in a raincoat raised her hoof. She looked super sure of herself, so I called on her.
"Kirin are distant cousins of ponies. With big poofy manes. They live on a tall mountain far away from other creatures."
More murmurs. Ones that made me pretty confident that answer was right. Kirin were Almost-Ponies who avoided people. I could relate. Sweating hooves fumbled for the next notecard, almost dropping it. The nose at the end of my muzzle hurt, so I rubbed it.
"Okay, so a few of us are already in the know."
"Sure we are," Gallus snarked. "Anyone in Professor Shy's class has heard the whole Kirin rigamarole."
I did another nose rub, this time to hide an eager grimace-grin.
"Oh? Then maybe you'd like to share what you know. For your participation credit today, of course."
Gallus clicked his beak, not happy to be put on the spot. He was braver than me though, since he turned in his seat and spoke real steady.
"Professor Shy said that Kirin, the ones she met anyway, have feelings so strong it affects their magic. Which seems to come from deep inside them even though they have antlers. Or antler. Single. They each only have one. It's actually a little hard to explain."
"Right," I blindly agreed while pawing through the notecards. "Kirin are... like Gallus said, they um, look like..."
No more helpful words were forming. I searched Pinkie's memories as well as her notecards, but I don't think she'd ever seen a Kirin in person. Just heard about them from Fluttershy and AJ, gotten unreasonably excited, and then concocted a hasty lecture about them. I hadn't been paying attention when she did it. I never paid attention to anything when I wasn't in control. And now it was biting me in the flank like a manticore.
The students were still waiting.
I was panicking again. The burning desperate kind, not the cold stab of dread I got when Ocellus spooked me earlier. Speaking of Ocellus, she was eyeballing me with her bulgy buggy peepers. Like she could feel exactly how stuck and worried I was. And so she stood up.
"Kirin look like this, everypony."
I hissed as a hoop of honest-to-Faust fire magic swept over her. But I was drowned out by oohs and aahs that came real quick. Looking shy, transformed Ocellus bowed to hide a blush behind her new mane. It was ridiculously poofy, just like the first filly said.
I snorted to clear my dizziness. The noise got attention back on me. My nose was hurting really bad now, so I rubbed it for a third time before flipping to the next card.
"Uh, yeah! There you go, everyone. Kirin do look like that. It think the plan written here was to pass out crayons for everyone to draw a Kirin from imagination." I cranked up my voice like a knob on the bakery's oven. "But this was quicker! And way more creative. Big round of applause for Ocellus!"
The class tapped their hooves while I sighed. Maybe I was reading too much into these cards. Just because they were left by Pinkie, didn't mean they were clues for Pinkamena. Not everything was about me. There were thirty-one bright-eyed kids in this room with lives and hopes and futures. Stuff I didn't have or want. My muzzle was really bothering me now, but I kept my hoof off it. Teeth grinding, I just wanted to get this lesson over and done with.
"Kirin feelings are really strong," I read out. "And when Kirin bottle them up, bad things happen to them. They..." my mane was still wet, but my mouth was suddenly very dry. "They change into completely different beings when they're upset. They change so much that for a long time, we used to think unhappy Kirin were a totally different species."
Pinkie, no. Don't make me read this. I'm begging you.
N...niriks. Kirin spelled backwards, because a Nirik is everything a Kirin is not. Dangerous, miserable, and mean."
I tried to keep reading, but my mouth - my stolen, trembling mouth - wouldn't make any more noise. It's lower lip was trembling too much.
So this is how you see me, Pinkie. Yourself, but as a mutant magic monster.
"That's so cool! Hey Oce, can you do a Nirik?" It didn't matter which classmate had asked. Soon, all the others were chanting. "Nirik! Nirik! Nirik!"
Ocellus giggled, not tasting my despair over everyone else's excitement. She transformed again, and I didn't scrunch my eyes shut in time. I saw what a Nirik looked like. I saw my half of a soul.
The cards dropped form my hooves and scattered on the floor.
Pinkie Pie's Nirik.
Before today, before this moment, never had I ever stopped to wonder if there was a word for me. It just wasn't something that felt safe to think about. I wasn't oblivious or anything. This head had enough sense in it to know I wasn't normal. After all, what kind of pony morphed into a completely different person when they got upset?
In the scattered cards I hadn't gotten to, one had a picture of Nightmare Moon. Another showed the Pony Of Shadows.
My muzzle hurt. All through the lesson, the pain had just kept getting worse and worse. It hurt so bad. So horribly, indescribably bad.
"Oh jeez!" Gallus's voice was loud and afraid. "Professor Pie! Your nose is really bleeding!"
I gasped and clamped both hooves over the slick wetness dribbling out. Unfortunately, with no front legs on the ground, I pitched forward and fell in a heap. Somepony whinnied in alarm. I grabbed a stray notecard, one full of empty dithering about being yourself and not bottling up all your emotions, and pressed it to my face. The smell of blood became a taste as the flow backed up and went to my mouth. I staggered to standing position, surrounded by worried students and frightened eyes.
"Class dismissed!" I rasped. Then, without any plan in mind, I shoved my way out the door.
A few students followed me. At least one asked if I was going to see the nurse. I didn't answer and just shambled faster, not wanting to be around anypony or anything. I didn't want "be" at all, but since it always sucks to be me, a ringing bell signaled first period's end. The thunder of rain was joined by the thunder of hooves from every classroom all rushing for good seats at the gym pep rally.
I shrieked and bolted down the hall, rounding a corner and nearly slipping on my own blood like a demented clown. There was a mop closet nearby. Pinkie's memories knew it as the place Cozy Glow once trapped her enemies. Good. Since the door had a lock, maybe I could seal myself inside and wait for the heat death of the universe. Or for Pinkie to come back. Whichever happened first.
The School of Friendship's halls were flooding with ponies. That didn't matter though, because I'd made it. The mop closet was dead ahead, past the Humanities classroom ran by Lyra Heartstrings. I got to my soap-smelling sanctuary and lurched inside, the latch locking behind me.
This place was small. Very small. But it had a sink, perfect for washing your hooves or bleeding from your nose down the drain. I opted to do the second, mane draped over the rim like a pink rag. That was the spot I stayed in for a long time. Long enough for the dripping blood to stop and be replaced by dripping tears.
"Oh, Pinkie..." I mewled. "How did I drag us down to this?" My voice sounded stuffy. Crying eyes and clotted nostrils had that kind of effect on talking. "Why won't you come back? I'm not your monster. I promise. Remember that one time you lucid dreamed and we were able to hug each other in your imagination?" I grimace-grinned through my sniffles. "We can fix this. I promise. Please, Pinkie. I don't... I don't want to be your Nirik."
Silence.
I was alone.
And I probably would have stayed that way if a wisp of purple magic didn't open the closet door.
"Alright, Pinkie Pie," Starlight Glimmer sighed. "I shrugged off your weirdness on the walk this morning. I even felt guilty after pulling Ocellus aside and asking her to scan your feelings while you taught today."
My back was to Starlight, but I didn't bother turning around. Pinkie had given up on me. I no longer cared about being cornered.
"But there's a limit to how long I can respect your privacy. Both as your boss and as your friend. And that limit is passed when I look up through my office window and see you sprinting down the hall with red spewing out of your face."
Still hunched over the sink, I managed a bitter cackle. It was darkly funny to envision Starlight Glimmer trotting after my trail of blood, maybe with a magnifying glass and detective's hat, til she came to its greasy end at the west hall's mop closet. By jove, where in Equestria could the rascally villain be hiding?
Jeez. I really am lightheaded.
"So that's the long and short of it, Pinkie. I'm making my move now."
Starlight stepped towards me and I stiffened up, ready to get hit by a stun spell.
But instead she laced her forelimbs around me in a hug.
"What's dragging you down today, Pinkie? And is there anything I can do to help?"
Rain kept pounding down outside. Laughs and cheers rumbled from the faraway gym. And Starlight Glimmer was here, in the mop closet. Still hugging me.
What's dragging you down today, Pinkie? That was what she'd asked. That was the million Bit question. And I was the pony with a hoof on the buzzer.
I slowly breathed in. Through the mouth, since my nose was still stuffed up by boogery scabs.
Then I slowly breathed out.
And laughed.
"Me," I wheezed. "I'm what's dragging Pinkie down today. It's a... heh heh. It's a big cosmic joke, isn't it?"
Starlight's hug stopped as I bent over, bitter giggles still spilling out of me like air escaping from a punctured party streamer. Pinkie didn't laugh like this. Desperate and defensive. No, she made big, trumpeting guffaws whenever she wanted and as often as she could. But Pinkie wasn't here. Starlight didn't know that, but I did. I knew it deep in my half-empty head and hollowed-out heart.
Comedy comes from tragedy Pinkie'd once read. And the tragedy is that there is no comedy.
I laughed harder. I laughed myself hoarse in this cramped sweaty mop closet, draped over a sink that stunk from soap, snot, and streaks of drying blood. I laughed until I was empty, which didn't take very long. Finally ready to throw in the towel, I turned around to face Starlight. She was frowning. I guess she didn't see the funny side like I did.
"What... are you?"
“A Crisis with a capital "C"."
"I'm serious."
"Why? Take it from me, being serious is a one way train ticket to failureville." I rolled my shoulders and reclined against the sink. It felt so freeing to get it all out like that, to finally be able to no longer care. I'd given up now. I'd finally let go of hope. From this spot where my neck was tilted, my gaze saw ceiling tiles instead of my conversation partner. That was ayy okay by me. Ceiling tiles were nice, and didn't wait around for answers like stubborn Starlight did. Like stubborn Starlight was still doing. I sighed, shutting my eyes and slumping further over the sink's rim. Maybe if I really relaxed, I could turn to putty and wash down the drain.
"Starlight, you wouldn't believe who I was if I told you."
"Try me."
"Nah."
"Try me!"
Starlight was full of bluster and steam, but I waved her off. I guess because my forelimbs weren't yet putty like the rest of me.
"Go away, Principal Glimmer. You should be at the pep rally with Twilight and the other ponies. Not in the janitor's hovel talking to some ghost."
As if to prove my point, distant cheers erupted and echoed down the hall. Twilight must've been really killing it with her performance today. That made one of us, I guess. The cheers were answered by a thunderclap so loud it rattled the faucet by my head. The world was still spinning without Pinkie, both inside the school and out. I didn't care. I was done with it all. At least, I thought I was until Starlight spoke up again.
"Listen, I know what it means when you have straight hair."
I slipped off the sink and hit the floor. Hard. I had a jawbone that ached where it'd conked the tile, and a tongue that recoiled when I bit it on impact. Both were proof this body was not made of putty. Neither were the flailing hooves and wild, swimming eyes that gawked up at Starlight.
"You know?" I choked out.
That was impossible. I was Pinkie's most treasured secret. Or her most shameful, depending on which one of us you asked. And not the kiddie type of secret either. Not like Cadance being pregnant or Marble being scared of snakes. No, I was the type of bombshell that would get a pony stuffed into a straightjacket. Or blasted by the Elements of Harmony. Or whatever merciless magic cure the Kirin used to get rid of their Niriks.
"How," I mewled. "How do you know...?"
Starlight had no detective hat to take off or magnifying glass to put away. But she did bend down and reach out. Not to clamp a pair of shackles on me, but to lay a gentle hoof on top of mine. What made everything seem even more unreal, she didn't look triumphant or smug. In fact, she looked almost embarrassed.
"I um..." Starlight was chewing on her lower lip. "I know you weren't there for any of this. To be honest, I wasn't either. I only have Twilight and Spike's story that filled me in. But back when I... when I tried to stop the Rainboom that gave you and your friends all your Cutie Marks, at least one of the bad futures had you in it. With no cutie mark. And no curly mane either."
I was sitting up now, like a puppet suspended by tight strings of understanding. My ears were hot as I shook my head.
"Unbelievable," I sighed. "You figured me out just from being told about that?"
Starlight shifted from one hoof to another. "I mean... for a pony paying attention, the puzzle pieces aren't exactly hard to put together."
She smiled playfully, which is what made me spring to my hooves in a full-on rage.
"Is that all Pinkie Pie is to you?!" I barked. "A pile of toy puzzle pieces to put together?!"
Starlight smile was gone in an instant, and she took a terrified step back.
"How dare you crack jokes about your friend being gone!!" I was snorting steam, rattling the mop closet's walls even more than the rain pounding down from above. Starlight took several more steps back, tripping over an empty bucket and sprawling onto the floor. I towered over her, ranting and furious.
"That Rainboom was Pinkie's birth, you hear me?? That blast of bliss and wonder was the moment I stopped being me, and started being somepony who actually mattered! How can you know all of that - how can you know me and how awful I am - and laugh about it behind Pinkie's back?" I put my hooves on Starlight and pulled her wide-eyed face to mine, mashing our noses. Mine was bleeding again.
"I want to stop existing, Starlight! I want Pinkie to be free, and for my old, useless, hanger-on half of our mind to die!! It's all I've ever wanted from the moment that Rainboom blasted Pinkie to life, so why is she the one who vanished instead?? Why did..." It was getting impossible to yell through my wracking sobs. "Why did she abandon me? Oh, Pinkie, were you even real to begin with...? Pinkie... Pinkie... you were my mask of hope, and now you're gone. I don't think I can make you come back this time and... it makes me scared. I'm so scared, so horribly lost and alone without you..."
I gave into wordless bawling like an infant now, the last of my fire finally spent. I knew, deep down, that my wretched daylong mental breakdown wasn't Starlight's fault. She was just the pony who'd been unlucky enough to always be nearby. But I was crying too hard to apologize. All I could do was hold her close, like a frantic filly in the arms of her mother. Never mind the fact we were two grown ponies in a musty, miserable mop closet.
This was it. This was me finally hitting rock bottom.
After a moment, I felt Starlight pat me gently on the back. After another moment, I heard her speak.
"Um... wow. Okay then. Turns out I don't know what it means when you have straight hair. I thought it just meant that you- oh sorry, it just meant that Pinkie Pie was feeling down. I didn't think it meant... that."
She nudged me off her, and I meekly let it happen. My nose had left a smear of blood and snot on Starlight's shoulder, but before I could gurgle something that sounded like a 'sorry,' Starlight hushed me and levitated a tissue box down from a nearby shelf. She wiped her fur. I wiped my face. Then Starlight tilted her head with cautious curiosity.
"You... must have a name, right?"
"Whu-?"
"A name. You were yelli- erm talking about Pinkie in the third person, so I'm guessing you... um... consider yourself a different pony than her. So do you have a name?"
I blew my nose so I wouldn't have to answer right away. Saying my name to someone else scared me. It was like an admission I was real. I tried to change the topic. It was a cowardly move, but I did it anyway.
"You're ridiculously relaxed for someone who just learned her friend has a freaking split personality."
That earned a coy shrug from Starlight. "More that my friend is a split personality. And don't get me wrong, its definitely a lot to take in. Especially with the not-so-gentle way you decided to explain it."
I hunched down, as if I could hide my embarrassment behind the soiled tissue clutched in my hooves.
"But at the same time," Starlight hastily added. "I've seen a lot of weird stuff in my days. Time travel, an all-powerful alicorn baby, bird-snakes that turn things to stone with their eyes." Starlight risked another playful smile, and I made sure I didn't attack her this time. "Honestly, I'm just happy to know you're the real Pinkie Pie. Before Ocellus came back with her report, I was getting flashbacks to the time you and the others all got replaced by Changelings and it took me way too long to notice."
I hugged my knees dejectedly. "I dunno if you can consider me the 'real' Pinkie Pie. I definitely don't."
"Well, Pinkie Pie is the only name I have to call you. Unless you want to remedy that."
Horseapples. Well played, Starlight.
"My name... is Pinkamena."
"Well then. It's nice to meet you, Mena."
"Don't lie. And don't shorten it like that either."
As if by some cosmic cue, a gymnasium's worth of laughter echoed from down the hall.
Starlight peered in the direction of the sound, looking pensive. Then she stood up.
"Sounds like Twilight's speech is being received pretty well. I told her it would. C'mon, let's go."
"Huh?" I didn't move from my spot. "Whaddya mean, 'let's go'?"
Starlight extended a hoof. "I mean just that, Mena. Let's go to the pep rally."
"B-but... What about Pinkie? She's still missing!" Thunder rumbled outside, like it was agreeing with my point.
"So you say. But I doubt we're gonna find her in this mop closet. I think we'll have better luck in the gym."
"Around... all those ponies?" The thought of following Starlight into such a packed room churned my stomach.
"Not just any ponies. Our friends are there. Applejack, Trixie, Fluttershy... even Twilight. They'll help us, Mena. They'll help you. Because this is the School of Friendship. I'm honestly surprised you didn't come clean to us right away."
I still didn't budge. "But what if there's nothing they can do?"
"There will be. You think it's just some freak accident that all your friends are in one place together on the exact day you need them the most? Twilight is only in town one day per year, Mena. Whatever is happening to you must be happening for a reason. We can solve this the same way we solve everything. With friendship."
I closed my eyes and breathed in. Rain was still pounding, harder than ever, on the School of Friendship from above. But laughs, cheers, and applause filled the School of Friendship from within. Between the two, the empty and the crowded, the oppressive and the welcoming, was silent Starlight. And me, gathering my courage.
The swing of the opening closet door jolted my eyes open. Then made them squint again.
"Blegh," Starlight commented. "These garish overhead lights out here are way more harsh and bright than I remember."
I was nearly ready to stand up and face the world again. But I had one last question left before that.
"Starlight?"
"Hm?"
"Why... are you being so nice to me? You have to understand, I'm not... I'm not Pinkie Pie. I'm a stranger."
Starlight Glimmer, principal of the School of Friendship, stood tall and proud.
"Isn't showing friendship to strangers the whole reason this place was built?" She ran a hoof over her head and smiled warmly. "Besides, I can relate to someone using a change of hair to leave the bad part of herself behind."
I reached up to accept Starlight's kindness. I swear that I did. But before our hooves met, the roof was ripped off the School of Friendship like a lid off a peach can.
Deafening stormwinds shredded shingles and tossed support beams sky high. Huge filthy hailstones blasted the interior halls where they shattered light fixtures, dented lockers, and cracked the tiles on the floor. One of them hit my flank, stinging from cold and sheer speed of impact. There was no sun, only roiling pitch black thunderclouds that blotted all light from the sky. I couldn't see anything. I couldn't see Starlight.
I tried to call her name, but a blinding lightning strike and deafening thunder clap shocked me senseless for moment. Over the ringing in my ears I heard screams of schoolponies. Past the blotches in my vision, I witnessed an airborne uprooted tree hurdling towards me just a split second before it made impact.
Pony chests weren't supposed to make crunching noises. Mine did.
Mashed onto my stomach by a log ten times my size, I gasped for air. Any air at all. My lungs were having none of it. Not through a pulverized ribcage and Faust knows how many pounds of pressure from the wreckage crushing down on top.
Black rain was slicing horizontally through the air, polluting the topless halls of the school like dirt skidding into a freshly open wound. Another lightning flash, another split second of illumination. My bugged-out pressure-popped eyes saw a purple princess, flapping high above in the tempest. Her hornlight was tiny but unsnuffable, warding against the howling whirlwind of darkness all around.
After the lightning came another thunderclap. This one so loud it rattled my teeth. But after the echoes faded, I heard, through frantic sips of air getting past my chapped lips, Twilight Sparkle's royal Canterlot voice:
"Any teacher who can hear me, escort every student you can find to the nearest basement entrance now! Any student who can hear me, find a teacher! This storm isn't natural!!"
The galeforce picked up and roared through my pinned ears. It was like the storm itself was annoyed at Twilight's attempts to save people from it. Twilight's response was to focus her horn's light, casting a brave glow through the fresh ruins all around. My tree was visible now, but Twilight was being pelted by freezing rain so she didn't see me. I had no strength to yell for help, and it's not like I could have been heard over the still screaming students and the hoofbeats of the staff trying to heard everyone to safety.
Starlight. Where was Starlight?
My tree wasn't the only piece of torn and tossed destruction that got scattered around. One of the School of Friendship's purple-spired tower tops had crashed near the spot I was trapped in. In fact, it was right where Starlight had been standing when the chaos began.
The thought that came from seeing this was too horrific to imagine. Ditching it from my mind, I reached my forelegs feebly upward at Twilight. No one else was close to me. No one else was coming to my rescue. I waved my battered hooves, pink in their fur, but blotched purple where they'd begun to bruise.
Twilight didn't see me. She didn't even look down. Though to be fair, she was occupied by a massive leering face finally forming in the churning maelstrom up above. One of a gleeful, monstrous stallion. I hadn't thought the surrounding screams could get any more frenzied. They noticeably did.
"You," Twilight gasped.
"Me!"
The voice of King Sombra thrummed so loud it shattered the remains of a window pane near my head. The glass splinters showered down, and I prayed for none to get in my gaping mouth. I was getting so little air gasping like this, I couldn't afford to shut my jaw for even an instant.
High above, Twilight and the storm monster stared each other down.
"How did you come back this time, you brute?"
"Trying to bait me into a monologue, tiny princess? Consider the bait bitten clean off your fishing reel!"
An impossible pillar of blackness made solid jetted out from the storm's eye and struck Twilight square in the face. Her wings went limp and her hornlight sputtered and she spiraled downwards. I actually managed a squeaking whinny of horror at the sight. This was insanity. A ridiculous nightmare shredding away at the world around me. How and why in the wide world of Equus was King Sombra here, in Ponyville, on today of all days?
The black pillar was forming into a pony-like shape as it chased Twilight down. Her horn was still sputtering, but moments before she splatted onto the bleachers in what used to be the gymnasium, Her wings flared, her light reignited, and she swooped to a safe landing on the central court. The writhing mass of solid Sombra smoke smashed down near her like some smug meteorite. He shook his brittle obsidian hooves free of the impact craters they'd each formed, eyeballing one of them with a smoldering green torchlight that swiveled in his eye socket.
"Cracked," he announced dismissively. "Though I shouldn't be surprised to see the only pony who can damage me is, well, me!" The Sombra golem tossed back its head and laughed. Its sound mixed with thunderclaps all around. Twilight however, was back on her hooves and not intimidated in the slightest.
"I have to say Sombra, this is a sloppy ambush and even sloppier resurrection. You call that heap of rocks a working body?"
The golem stomped at her insult, sending out a shockwave that Twilight easily hopped over, but I couldn't. I was maybe twenty strides away from them. Unnoticed, pinned, helpless, and dying. Now on top of it all, I'd been blasted in the face by a sooty pulse of coaldust.
"Meh, so this form is a bit of a fixer upper," Sombra conceded joylessly. "Hardly matters. I'll splurge on a more complete rebirth later, after I'm done wringing your defenseless little neck."
Twilight pawed at the rain-slicked gym floor while she and the monster circled one another.
"Will you, now? Tough talk for a pony whose butt has been blasted to bits going on... what is it? Three times now? Four?"
The golem roared and a lightning strike singed Twilight's tail hair. The bolt would have definitely split her in half if she hadn't dodged when she did. The stench of soot lingered on everything now. I could taste it on my tongue, and not even the relentless rain was washing it away.
The hero and the villain kept going with their outrageous banter. I meanwhile squealed silently as my log shifted and yet another rib audibly cracked.
"I think I picked a terrific day to rain on your parade, Twilight Sparkle. I had to wait a long time for you and your old friends to all gather again in one place."
"And you're stupid for trying to get the drop on us when we have each other's backs!"
It hadn't been Twilight who announced that, but a bright blue blur. Rainbow Dash plowed directly into the side of the Sombra golem at high speed. His response was to shrug her off and conjure a lattice of barbed black crystal rods, pinning her to the floor.
"Pipe down, you. The adults are talking."
"Dash!" Twilight's cry was cut short by a warning shot from Sombra's horn. Not aimed at her, but instead scorching the ground barely a hair away from Rainbow Dash's restrained head. The message was clear: don't make any sudden moves, or the hostage gets it.
"Dash," Twilight groaned, "you're supposed to be firing up the Treehouse of Harmony downstairs with the others."
"I know!" Rainbow Dash wailed," But we can't find Pinkie! She didn't show up to the pep rally, and without all of us, the tree's magic won't wo-mmph!"
A fresh lattice of coal crystal covered Rainbow Dash's mouth. Her eyes bore up at Sombra like daggers, and her nostrils snorted steam. But that was all she could do now.
For the first time since the standoff began, Twilight Sparkle looked genuinely afraid.
"Can't find the pink one, eh?" Sombra relished that he was in a position to gloat. "What a terrible stroke of luck for you, princess. Then again," the rain was intensifying above the gym now. "What if I told you it wasn't luck at all?"
What precious little air I had was suddenly no longer coming through. It was caught in my throat.
"What..." Twilight was openly terrified now. "What did you do to Pinkie?"
My vision was fogging with the purest, angriest red ever seen by a mortal mare.
"Oh gee," Sombra knelt down to tickle a furiously thrashing Rainbow Dash under the chin. "What did I do to the pink one? Probably something horrible. Like pocketing a pony-sized dose of nightmare magic as I clawed my way back from the void. Oh wait, did I say pony-sized?" He spat the next words with glee. "I meant continent-sized. And then I stuffed it into your friend's head. She's was the easiest target, being the heaviest sleeper of you lot. And she definitely didn't wake up from that this morning. In fact, as long as my hex holds, I doubt the drooling pink vegetable will ever wake up again."
Log wood creaked and strained. The leg strength of a berserking pink Earth Pony pressed against the planet. Slowly, desperately, by painfully imperceptible degrees, the fallen tree was beginning to lift.
"Well, that's the long and short of it, I suppose." The Sombra golem clicked his nonexistent tongue and aimed his horn at the dumbstruck, devastated Twilight. "It's honestly taking a lot out of my reserves to keep one of your precious keystone friends out of action. Plus, bluey here ruined the big speech I wanted to give. But to Tartarus with theatrics; my plan remains unchanged. I'll mop up the two of you, finish off your friends, then put some work into a proper flesh and bone body to rule my new emp-"
Sombra was interrupted by the splintering crack of freshly fallen birch tree followed by an ear-splitting, skypiercing, bloodcurdling screech of righteous feral fury.
I need to make a sort of confession at this point. I need to say that it's been several years since the day where all this awfulness all happened. Several very long years since this horrible, humiliating day that Pinkie and Starlight have dubbed "Mena's Undercover Adventure." I can remember almost every detail of what I saw, and what I did. Everything up to the last few minutes. Which were the next few minutes.
So for this short chunk, I have to pull from Twilight and Dash's stories of what went down. Starting with what I looked like as I charged. Twilight says that I was foaming from the mouth. And by her "estimation of the bubble consistency," the foam probably wasn't caused by the gargling gasps of air I was gulping.
Meanwhile, Dash says my charge was more like a shambling, tripod limp. Heaving the tree away had revealed that my left hind leg was broken so bad, there were bones sticking out in at least two places.
Both agree though, and I guess it must be true, that I made it to Sombra's golem body without him making any move to stop me. In fact, according to them, he didn't really do anything except gawk at my shambling frenzied approach and mutter "This isn’t possible... I got rid of you... I got rid of you...!"
I don't know. I can't say. But however it happened, I made it to him.
Dash's description of what came next uses these words: "It was kinda like a yak in a china shop, with one pony-sized vase that the yak really, really hated in particular."
Twilight's description was shorter: "Mindless, animalistic pugilism."
You'll just have to use your imagination. I know I have to, since the only part I really remember came right at the end. It was when the rain finally stopped coming down and the dark clouds faded away to let the sun be seen.
My hooves and face were caked with coal dust, or at least something very close to it. There was a pile of the stuff in front of me. Enough that if you scraped it all together, you could make a life-sized sculpture of a bigger-than-average unicorn. Except now that my aching hooves were done doing what they did to it, the pile was just empty ashes. All of its magic beaten and chased back into the void where it belonged. And as it faded, so did all its nasty ongoing curses.
My shoulders straightened and my hair began to curl.
"Holy moly Pinkie, that was awesome!" Rainbow Dash was shaking herself off, brittle bits of her crystal tethers crumbling to dust. "I had no idea you could throw hooves like that."
Through eyes I was slowly fading from, I peered at her. Dash had this huge goofy grin distorting her dirtied face, and her legs were shaking from adrenaline. This was a look I knew super well. Pinkie was also the type to fall back on a forced chipper attitude when she'd just been seen something disturbing. Or rather, she was the forced chipper attitude.
"Pinkie, you're hurt!" Twilight was on my other side, skidding to a stop and openly queasy at the sight of my caved-in chest and mangled hind leg. "Does it feel bad? Nod if you can't speak."
I could feel my half of ourself going back to sleep. Which was good, right? It was good that soon Pinkie could laugh and hug her friends and play off any suspicions that somepony else had gripping the wheel for awhile. Plus, I could finally rest feeling satisfied that the mystery was solved. This was supposed to all feel correct. This was what I'd wanted from the start.
"Can you hear us okay?"
"Yeah, you look like you're about to cry."
How come I was feeling so deathly scared to go? This wasn't my life. These weren't my friends I was leaving.
Were they?
With a jolt, I suddenly remembered somepony who was. Since Twilight the closest, I pawed at her and poured everything I had left into forming a few desperate words.
"St... Starl..."
Twilight leaned down, frowning with worry. "What now? Pinkie, if hurts too much, don't try to talk."
Darkness framed my vision, as did a mane of fully frizzy hair. I knew I had a few seconds left at the absolute most.
"Find... Starlight."
Rainbow Dash heard, and was in the air in an instant. "You were with Starlight when we couldn't find you? Oh jeez, she could be buried anywhere in this mess!" In a burst of blue, she was digging through the nearest pile of rubble. Twilight meanwhile, stayed by my side. She had a different kind of worry coming off of her now.
"Pinkie... are you lucid right now?"
A giggle of relief escaped my mouth. A giggle that wasn't mine.
"Have a super fanta-bulous weekend, everyone! No new homework, but don't forget your Smile Reports due at the end of the month!"
Pinkie Pie unhurriedly pushed her teaching notes (and a plate of plastic-wrapped sugar cookies) into her saddlebag. Students filed past as she made sure to nod eagerly at each "bye Professor Pie" and "have a good weekend." The last one out the door was Ocellus, who paused and looked back over her wingbumps.
"Did I hear that right, Professor Pie? We have a week extension on our monthly Smile Reports?"
"Hm?" Pinkie perked up. "Oh!" She shuffled the remaining papers, just to have something to do with her hooves. "For sure, absolutely. But you know you gotta have at least thirty-seven smiles on 'em now instead of thirty. And hey, I'm super duper sorry for not collecting them first thing in the morning last week. I was, um..."
Distracted, I supplied.
"Distracted!"
Ocellus was still lingering in the doorway. "The school also got attacked by a talking hurricane, Professor Pie."
A giggle. "Oh yeppers, it sure did. That was a Crisis with a capital "C," wasn't it? But it's done and over with now. 'Sides, the School and everyone in it bounced back good as new afterwards."
Ocellus gave Pinkie Pie a look. A very long one. While she did, I curled up to be as small and tasteless as possible. Not that I was any more than a wisp at the moment to begin with.
"If... if you say so, Professor Pie. Take care of yourself. See you Monday." The door shut.
Pinkie Pie waited a moment, then began humming tunelessly. She slung her saddlebag over a bandaged shoulder, shifting to adjust the strap. Then she skipped out of the lecture room and down the rebuilt halls. Skipping was an impressive feat, since her left hind leg was encased in a thick plaster cast. It had been there for about a week, and by now the cast's surface was completely covered with names. From students, coworkers, friends, and even a few random strangers she'd passed on the street and chatted with. A cast was a good conversation starter, and Pinkie always seemed to have a colored pencil available to offer up.
There was only one pony who'd declined to add her name to the jumble: Me.
"Hey Dashie!" Pinkie waved to her coworker locking the door of health class. "Whatcha doin' this weekend?"
"Huh? Oh, 'sup, Pinkie. Sorry, but I got plans. Me and the cheer team have practice."
"Well, that's okay. I could sit in. Sometimes cheerleaders need a cheerleader of their own."
"Don't I know it. I tell ya, a lot of the students are still pretty shaken up by the attack last week. Teachers too. It's why I'm staying overtime to work on new cheers with the girls. The school needs good vibes from anywhere they can get ‘em right now."
Even if you have to fake those vibes yourself.
That comment never made it out of our mouth. I gripped it tightly in place while Pinkie stayed busy nodding.
"Oh hey," Dash continued. "I almost forgot that Starlight Glimmer passed by looking for you earlier. I think she's been looking for you ever since you got back. Have you been avoi-?"
"KaySeeYouLaterAtCheerPracticeDashBye!"
Pinkie bounded away. Soon she was heading down the front steps of the school.
"Hi, construction crew! Hope you're not working yourselves too hard in this heat!"
The sun shone down on Pinkie waving to a trio of roofers still bolting beams and hammering shingles on top of the school. They waved back and she scampered to the base of an unused ladder, saddlebag swinging open.
"I brought you boys some thank you gifts for working so fast to fix stuff: sugar cookies from Sugarcube Corner!"
The workponies rumbled with sweaty gratitude, and one of them used his magic to levitate Pinkie's presented paper plate.
"I frosted them red, yellow, and green," she called. "Cuz those are stoplight colors, which always remind me of construction! The red ones are for Sander, the yellow are for Pierce, and the green cookies are for... um..."
I tilted Pinkie's eyes to her cast.
"...Rivet!"
His name was scrawled near the base. Right next to the names of his coworkers.
Since last week, I'd been putting in more effort to pay attention instead of zone out. While working to keep up with daily life, I'd found Pinkie to be every bit as scatterbrained and forgetful as I am. Which really isn't surprising, since we share the same attention span. I'd gotten careful to only use our sense of awareness when she wasn't touching it. Which, to be fair, was pretty often.
The construction ponies were all munching away. Satisfied, Pinkie balled up the spare plastic wrap, tucking it away in her bag. Can't let good snack packaging go to waste, after all. Job done, she hopped her way down the rest of the front steps, pausing at the spot where cement gave way to grass.
Other ponies trotted past. Some students, others teachers. Most said hi, and Pinkie made sure to do her signature smile nod at each of them. She breathed deep and rolled her shoulders. It was officially the weekend.
Not a cloud blotted the sky, magically evil or otherwise. The only running water was the trickle of fountains in the decorative pond, where a family of ducks were sunning themselves. Seeing them bob in the water made a sort of warm, peaceful feeling wrap around a pony's stomach. Maybe there was some way to turn a bird-watching into a class assignment. To this day, passing out worksheets still didn't mesh with the Pinkie Pie style. Then again, it'd be hard to grade a whole class's goodness or badness at feeling calm while looking at animals. And even if it was, that style wasn't really the Pinkie Pie style either. More like the Fluttershy one.
Pinkie shaded her eyes and squinted. Didn't there used to be more shade here? In fact, didn't there used to be a tree right here? Like right next to where she was standing?
The leg in the cast throbbed. So bad that even I felt it.
Pinkie shook the ache away and trotted gingerly across the lawn. No duckwatching assignment for next Monday. No, instead there'd be a treeplanting one. Students would pick a partner, (dirty jobs were always easier with a buddy at your side), get given a sapling, and then find somewhere on the school grounds that looked like it needed a new baby tree. Pinkie had high hopes somepony would pick the spot near the duck pond. I did too, which was weird. Until last week, I'd never really had high hopes for anything.
Up behind, the front doors of the school eased open to let out a late staffer. The Pinkie Sense knew who it was without even turning around.
"Pinkie Pie? Hey, Pinkie! Wait up a second!"
Three good legs was enough to skip on, that much was proven. But it they weren't enough to run away on. Especially since Starlight Glimmer was a quickdraw with her teleports.
"Hey," she panted, wiping some stray sparkles off her horn. At least, I think that's what she was doing. It was hard to tell, since Pinkie was avoiding eye contact.
"Hiya, Starlight." Her voice was also quieter than than normal. Kinda like my voice, which I wasn't a fan of one bit. I drew myself up, ready in case Pinkie needed me. "How're you doing?"
"Me?" Starlight looked surprised. "I'm... fine. Better now than I was when Dash dug me out from under those dented lockers, that's for sure. I... I know we were laid up in different wards of the hospital, and even though I got sent home before you did, I've been hung up with all the administrative and legal and public rela..." Starlight sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm blathering. What I wanted to ask... what's been on my mind ever since I woke up in the trauma ward, is... how are you doing?"
Pinkie beamed brightly. "I'm super duper! My ribs are setting straighter than birthday candles in a box, and look at all the names I have on my leg cast!" She pirouetted while producing a colored pencil from her saddlebag. "Wanna add yours to the mix?"
Starlight graciously accepted the pencil. "Sure, if you'll have my messy hornwriting." Halfway into her first initial, she looked up. "But when I asked 'how are you doing,' you know I didn't mean your leg."
It occurred to Pinkie, way too late, that she was trapped in place until Starlight's signature was finished. She bit her tongue and glanced around.
"There's nopony else here," Starlight assured. She'd moved on from the 's' to the 't' now. "Nopony except those roofers. And they look busy."
"I gave them cookies," Pinkie commented, hoping that Starlight would say something in response to that. But when Starlight didn't do anything except slowly move on to the letter 'a', Pinkie sighed and bobbed her anxious head. "Man, Sombra sure popped up outta nowhere last week didn't he? I know big entrances are his shtick and all, but man oh man was that one wild. When he pulled apart the school like a dollhouse, he couldn't have had worse timing. Or better timing, depending on the pony you ask."
Starlight's pencil stopped moving. "Oh?" she nudged. "And who exactly would this pony be that says he had good timing?"
Pinkie shivered despite the pleasant sun.
"Ya know, I was able to see and hear the whole time he had me bottled up. And I tried really hard to bust out a few times. Like, super duper hard, but it didn't do anything except cause a nosebleed." Pinkie laughed heartily. "It was pretty embarrassing! But not as embarrassing as Sombra was towards the end there. I mean, what are the odds that the one pony he picked to lock in a box just so happened to have a backup brain primed and ready to go? Well, okay, I guess I know the odds. One outta six. But still! He rolled a die and it came up on the only number that could bite him in the butt."
Starlight Glimmer had finished her first name and moved on to writing her second. "From what I heard," she said gently, "Your backup brain did a lot more than just bite. And she was sobbing the whole time she did it."
My better half was chewing her lip desperately. Not a single jovial quip or bouncy comment was steering the conversation away from the uncomfortable subject of me. Her worry was my worry, and I was about to reach for the controls when Starlight kept going.
"I also heard that Sombra was acting differently than most ponies would have expected . They say he was louder. Hammier. More talkative and less snarl-y."
Pinkie jumped on the tangential topic. "Y-yeah, he was like that the time before too. When he smashed the Tree of Harmony."
Starlight had finished writing her name, but by now there was no running away from this talk. She extended the pencil.
"Uh-huh. It does seem that he made a change in attitude awhile back. Maybe that newfound gumption is what helps him bounce back from being beaten down so often. It's insane how much someone can change their personality and still stay the same pony. Or maybe..." she wagged the pencil pleadingly "maybe its reassuring? You know, depending on the pony you ask?"
Pinkie's armpits sweating. Bad. Starlight really wasn't going to let my meltdown from last week just blow over and be forgotten. Even though Pinkie and I really really wanted her to.
The doors to the school were thrown opened again, making all of two-and-a-half of us jump. But it was just Gallus loping out. Starlight frowned in frustration while he padded down the stairs, head hanging low. Pinkie however, did something even I didn't expect. She drew herself up and put on a brave face that wasn't a mask.
"Hey Starlight, can you do me a flavor?"
"Erm, you mean favor?"
"That too." Pinkie accepted the colored pencil back and tucked it behind her ear. It was the spot where serious ponies stored their pencils, after all.
"Do me a friendly-flavored favor and have a looksee while I make something happen."
Pinkie was shoulder to shoulder with Gallus before he'd reached the lawn. I guess I was wrong about earlier; maybe three-legged Pinkie really could move quick when she wanted to. The downcast vibes coming off Gallus were certainly a motivator.
"Heya, grumpy frumpy feathers. It's Friday. What's got you down?"
"Hm?" Gallus looked up. "Professor Pie? What are you doing still around?"
"Somepony shined the Pie signal in the sky, so I swooped over lickety-split to see what student needed my help."
That one got a half-smile out the school's bluest bird.
"Okay then, Professor Pie. Whatever you say. Its nice to see you too. Counselor Lulamoon's office was dark when I checked it, so I was just heading back to my dorm."
Pinkie draped an understanding forelimb over Gallus. "That's sad to hear, kiddo. I know how much you look forward to unwinding with her at the end of rough weeks."
By Faust, I wish I knew how Starlight was taking in all of this. But we were faced away from her, and I wasn't exactly able to make a glance back.
"I guess Trixie just got tired and went home for the day," Gallus remarked.
"Oh for sure, for sure," Pinkie agreed. "The school only has one counselor, and I bet this past week has her swamped in students that need counseled. Like, mask and snorkel levels of swamped."
Gallus chuckled at the mental image.
"Like, mask and snorkel and scuba tank levels of swamped. Mask and snorkel and scuba tank and big goofy marsh boat with a fan on top levels of-"
"Alright, alright!" Gallus playfully shrugged Pinkie off of him. "I hear ya. Everypony has their limits, even teachers. Ya know, school is out for the weekend. If you're trying to spring a Friendship Lesson on me, could it at least wait til Monday?"
Pinkie held up her hooves and smiled coyly. "No lesson here. Pinkie promise. 'Specially since it sounds like you're a big-brained birdie who already knows what I would say."
"That nopony can be at the top of their game all the time, right? That even helper ponies need to take some time to themselves to recharge?"
"You're so wise, Gallus. Sure you're not part owl?"
Laughter was shared now. Strong enough to even make Pinkie Pie's Cutie Mark radiate with inner magic.
Gallus ran a talon through his headfeathers, trying to reclaim his cool. "I'm glad you were around today, Professor Pie."
"D'aww, I'm glad I was around today too. I alway-" Pinkie's voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "I pretty much always am. So come see me again the next time Trixie is out but you still need a boost, okay?"
"Trixie is almost never out. Today is a one-in-a-million thing."
"Still. You know where to find me."
Gallus waved her off and headed for the dorms. He still had his saggy-shouldered lope, but his head was a little higher. Pinkie waved back. And she kept waving until he was inside and out of sight.
For a moment, the mood lingered. Then Starlight stepped out from the other side of the fountain in the duck pond.
"I see," she commented.
"Mm-hm."
"What you did for Gallus just now, what you said to him... that was something Pinkamena never could have done."
"Mm-hm."
Was it though? Really and truly, was Pinkie the only one between us who could comfort another creature instead of clobber them?
If you'd asked me that last week, I would have called the question stupid. But now, after I'd fed Pound Cake, after I'd told a sad class that the pep rally wasn't canceled, after Starlight put her hoof out to me and I was torn away to go right back to being the raging roaring monster mare I'd always resigned myself to be... after all of that, I wasn't so sure. Was I still just a Nirik? The lack of certainty scared me.
"The way things go, Starlight," Pinkie was saying, "is that when other creatures have a Crisis with a capital "C", I want to be there for 'em. Especially when they don't have anypony else. Meanwhile, whenever have my own Crisis with a capital "C," I'm ayy okay because… because I have someone there for me too. Even when I have nopony else, I have her. And that's enough."
Starlight nodded. "Okay, I understand. Sorry that I cornered you like this. I just thought that maybe Mena was more than just... well, I guess it doesn't matter what I thought. You've probably noticed by now that I'm keeping your secret quiet."
"You sure are, teamie." Pinkie draped a foreleg over Starlight, though she was a lot less relaxed then when she'd done the same to Gallus. "Thank... thank you for that. Thank you from both of us."
Starlight peered deep into Pinkie's eyes, but I could tell what she really wanted do was look past them. She wanted to see Pinkamena, to see me, to see the pony she'd hugged and comforted and promised to help but never got the chance. She wanted to be absolutely sure, before she let me go, that I wasn't still aching for connection.
I was, of course. I was aching desperately. But like a coward, I shrank away from her. I pulled back, far back, as far as I could into Pinkie's mind until I was pressed up against the back of it. But no matter how small I shrank, how distant I got from Pinkie and Starlight's ongoing talk, I couldn't escape my feelings.
Last week had changed me. I did want her friendship, even though my rampage against Sombra made a pretty stong case against me deserving it. Mashed back in the dark corner of our head like this, I'd left Pinkie's eyes and ears. I didn’t know what goodbyes were said to Starlight or how long they took. I do know that she and Starlight must have gone their separate ways eventually, because the next time I poked back out, Pinkie was at Sugarcube Corner, brushing our - her - teeth and getting ready for bed. With nothing else to do, I settled down into my mental box, easing away from alertness, letting it slip through my hooves like sooty rain on a miserable day.
Mena's Undercover Adventure had ended not with a spiritual awakening, but with a big dumb monster fight and lots of yelling. I had been stupid and greedy to expect anything different.
And while drifting off to dreamland, it turns out I was still partially stupid. Because something else I expected was for Starlight to let sleeping ponies lie.
Night.
With night came sleep, and with sleep came dreams. Dreams for Pinkie Pie, anyway.
Tonight's was a happy one: a reliving of her first birthday after the Rainboom happened. As memory dreams tend to go, only some of the details were correct. The number of streamers, the color of the tablecloth, and the assured smiles of mom, dad, and Marble while everypony sang the birthday song. That was stuff that was actually there, that stuff actually happened. But other details were add-ons to how the real party had went. First off, Gummy was a gift for the birthday after this one, not a gift she got right now. And secondly, I hadn't been there as a guest. Especially not in my own chair, across the table and completely separate from Pinkie.
This dream was soupier than most, with the cake's candle number changing every time I looked at it. Still not as surreal as the moments where I was eating ice cream in a party hat while Pinkie laughed from across the room, thwacking a pinata with her favorite stick. I ended up having to peel my attention away from this dream. Right about the time Limestone passed by the fake filly that looked like me, stole a bite of cake, and prompted a playful wrestling match like she and I used to have back in the pre-Rainboom days.
Watching this wasn't fun anymore. Especially after Limestone's colors smeared to be purplish with light green mane streaks. There wasn't really a way to leave a dream that was happening in the head I occupied, but I could still move as far away as possible. I could turn my back to the action and stare at a metaphorical blank wall instead. I opted to do that, even though the foggy form of Starlight Glimmer was still fresh in my mind's eye. In fact, her features were getting sharper and sharper until at once, Starlight solidified in front of me, splayed on the illusory floor in an embarrassed heap.
"Oof!" Her voice was close but crackly. Like it was coming through a phonograph. "Not... not too skilled at wielding dream magic," she managed. "Luna wasn't kidding when she said the minds of other ponies are slippery. Am I com... coming through okay?"
Too stunned to answer, I nodded. Then I realized I didn't have a body to nod with, so I piped up.
"I hear you. Starlight. You... You're here. Right? Its actually you?"
"Gah!" Starlight winced and her form fuzzied up for a moment. "You're loud," she commented. "But by Celestia, you're also absolutely adorable!"
"I am?"
As sometimes happens in dreams, I got a third-person glimpse of what I looked like: Short legs, straight mane, and a lopsided party hat still on my head. My shape was the impossible guest filly from Pinkie's dream.
"Ew!"
I shook like a wet dog, dispelling my details, but they slowly drifted back to me like dust settling on a stomped rug. Starlight giggled at my frustration and moved to the other side of me. As much as moving meant in this dark, private corner of Pinkie's mind. Far behind, like a star in space, Pinkies dream was still going. It didn't have the guest filly in it anymore.
"So is this... the true you? The um... shape of your soul, I suppose I'd call it?"
"W-well what if it is?" Because Starlight's shape was taller, she got to loom over me as we talked. I didn't like that, so I focused hard and made our eyes level. From up here, I could see Starlight's shape looking sorry.
"I guess... it just makes a strange level of sense, is all. You said you were young when you, uh, became Pinkie. So I guess the realest version of you would look the same as right before that moment. Right?"
"I... I..." Too much was happening all at once, and I shook my tiny head to clear it. "Starlight, why are you even here? I thought my better half told you to leave her... I mean me... Ugh. I thought she told you to leave us alone."
Starlight was taken aback. "Pinkie? Tell somepony to leave her alone? Of course she didn't say that. Don't you know her at all?"
I struggled to recall the end of the talk between Starlight and Pinkie. Then I realized I'd retreated and missed out on it. Not wanting to admit my fault, I searched for something else to say.
"Nice hair, Starlight. Looks like I'm not the only one whose shape is stuck in the past."
"Oh. You noticed these, huh?" Starlight ran a hoof through her mane's prominent bangs. "Like I said, I'm still ironing out the creases in my dream magic. This is the manestyle I had for most of my life, so... well... I guess its stuck in my self image like gum on a horsehoe. What was it you said when we were in the rain, Mena? That I tote my emotional baggage better than some other ponies do?"
"Um... sure," I relented, trying to paw nervously at the ground. When I found there was no ground to paw at, I settled for folding my hooves across my chest. "How come you keep calling me Mena?"
"Be... because that's your name." Starlight tilted her head in polite confusion. "Isn't it? There's Pinkie and there's Mena. Together you're Pinkamena. Two slices of a full Pie."
These aren't real tears, I reminded myself. You're not a real pony and you're not crying real tears right now.
Except I was. And the tears were real. As real as my tiny sniffling nose, here in the void. Starlight must have noticed, because she was picking me up and drying my eyes. I'm not ashamed to admit I clung to her like the foal I was, small and cradled in this endless dark.
Starlight waited until my shuddering stopped.
"I have something for you, Mena."
I crinkled my skeptical eyebrows, but also held out my hooves.
"Close your eyes, birthday girl. This one is a surprise."
I growled, but did as I was told. In this void, there wasn't much difference between opened eyes and closed ones. Really, it was just a difference of being able to see Starlight or not. I felt her embrace fall away, replaced by a warm weight in my grip.
"Okay, you can look now."
I was a full-sized adult again, but that wasn't the gift. Starlight's bangs were gone and replaced by her real-life coiffure, but that wasn't the gift either.
The gift was a thermos of coffee in my trembling hooves.
"Pinkie said you never got a taste last week because I drank it all," Starlight confessed. "I know its not real, but I put a lot of dream magic into forming it, so I hope you at least apprecia-"
I was already fumbling to twist the cap off. But once it was free, I hesitated.
"Is... something wrong, Mena?"
"N-no... nothing like that. It's just... Do you think you can create one more thing for me?"
Starlight's horn grew more solid as the rest of her went fuzzy. "I can try."
"It's small. It's... a value brand Salt Lick lozenge."
"Blegh!" Starlight's noise made me flinch, and I briefly flickerer from adult to filly and back again.
"Too much?"
"Huh? Oh! No, I can get... hang on, one thing at a time..." Starlight's shape blurred as she redirected her effort. Then all at once she snapped back into focus. This time with an unwrapped lozenge in her hoof. "Here you go: One imaginary piece of the cheapest, least tasty candy in all of Equestria."
I nodded knowingly, then popped it in my mouth to savor its salty tang.
"How is it?"
"I can understand why this is the one candy Pinkie doesn't like. Because I absolutely love it."
Starlight bowed like a flattered chef as I washed my treat down with coffee. The meal was bitter, scalding, and enough to make a regular pony like Pinkie gag.
But it was my meal. And that made it wonderful.
"It's almost morning," Starlight announced. "When I laid down tonight, I was thinking about what Pinkie said today. Something about a capital "C" and how you're always there for her. I was thinking... maybe I could be the pony who is there for you, Mena. Or at least, once per week for dream visits. What do you think? Want to try this out and see where it goes?"
I smiled. Not a hideous grimace-grin, but a real warm smile. "What, you mean like Gallus and Trixie?"
"Maybe. Trixie's current job was my old one, after all."
I drummed my hoof on the empty thermos. "I still don't understand why you think I'm worth helping."
"I said the exact same thing to Twilight Sparkle once."
The void shuddered and phonograph Starlight glitched like her record skipped. "Hm. Sounds like Pinkie's waking up."
I rubbed my neck. "Pinkie... me and her, we... I keep so far out of her way, we haven't sat down and straight talked to each other in really a long time."
"You can always start. Tomorrow is a new day."
"Bucking hell, you really are the boss of the School of Friendship, aren't you?"
Starlight Glimmer tossed her mane playfully and mouthed something, but I didn't hear what it was. Instead I heard blankets rustling and somepony yawning. I saw sunlight coming through the window shutters and smelled Ponish Muffins being cooked downstairs.
"G... good morning, Pinkie," I rasped.
"Hiya, bestie. Good to hear from you. Didja get your coffee I ordered last night?"
"Y-yeah."
"Super, cuz we're gonna need all our energy to help out at Dash's cheer practice today."
Hooves hit the floor and stood tall. Even the one in the cast.
"Okey-doki-loki, let's get a move on. And maybe grab extra pulpy orange juice at breakfast today. Need to wash the taste of salt lick lozenge from our mouth. Yuck."
We moved. Not just Pinkie, and not just Mena. Both of us. The bedroom door opened, the bedroom door shut, and Pinkamena Diane Pie picked up her synchronized pace.
