Twilight’s eyes snapped open. It smelled like sulfur. She sat up, threw her covers aside. Adrenaline pushed aside her desire to sleep.

By the time she had sat up, the smell had vanished. A glance around her room showed nothing out of the ordinary. The library had been well-built. Shifts or creaks or errant odors were rare, thanks to its tree-based construction. Her room was exactly the same as it had been last night.

She ran a hoof through her mane. That felt odd. Perhaps she had dreamed something unusual—some memory had processed strangely and given her a nightmare.

She turned to her clock. She did usually wake up earlier, even though she never woke up that early. Maybe the guilt of sleeping in had woken her.

She yawned. She would never be able to force herself back to sleep, so she resigned herself to getting up.

Her morning routine was the same as always. Check Owloysius’ water, brush teeth, comb mane. There were some leftover waffles from yesterday, so she spared herself making a fresh breakfast.

Her checklist for the day was equally uneventful. A few errands and then lunch with Cheerilee. No one would visit the library on a Sunday anyway, so she could do whatever she felt like.

The walk to Carousel Boutique did not take long. Only a few other ponies walked along the roads, and she arrived in no time at all.

She knocked on the door, just loudly enough.

“The door’s unlocked, dear!” the owner shouted from inside.

Twilight nudged the door open, and the bell attached to it jingled softly. “Hello?”

“Ah, Twilight, there you are!” The owner looked up from the fabric on her desk—a few pins and paper patterns floated around her face. “I imagine you are here for your bag?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“It’s in the back, just let me grab it for you.” The unicorn trotted away into the back of the shop, the cloud of pins and patterns trailing after her.

Rarity, that was her name. Twilight did not come to the Boutique often. She did not own a lot of clothes, and thus didn’t have much reason to visit a seamstress.

Her gaze wandered as she waited. Equipment filled the building: fabric and mannequins and a few outfits on racks. For some reason, the place calmed her. It felt familiar.

Twilight shook her head. She must have still been tired from waking up early. She shouldn’t feel at home in a place she barely visited. She certainly hadn’t felt that way yesterday, when she had dropped off her bag.

“Found it!” Rarity popped back into sight, a purple saddlebag now among the collection of items orbiting her head. “That was a quite a rip, but it should be fine now.” She floated the pouch over to Twilight, and the aura covering it shifted colors as Twilight grabbed it.

Twilight turned it over a bit. She could not even see the seam across the side. The tear had cut right along the picture of her cutie mark, large and visible. The design was now uninterrupted; a closed brown book.

“Thank you, it looks just like new.”

“Glad to help, dear. Was that all you needed?”

Twilight opened her mouth, but the sentence didn’t come out right away. She felt like there was some question she had forgotten. “Yes, that’s it. I’ll let you get back to work.” Was that all she had meant to say?

“Very well, have a wonderful day. And do not hesitate to ask if you need anything else.” Rarity returned to her fabric, and Twilight left without another word. She chose not to worry about the question she had meant to ask.

The market was not crowded. Twilight had expected that, of course. She always saved her shopping for the weekends, when the crowds were thinner. It was more practical, and less uncomfortable.

She had already clipped her mended saddlebag back onto her harness, and both bags had started to bloat with groceries. Thankfully she only had one stop left.

“Hi, Applejack.”

Applejack smiled. It looked like the same non-threatening, neutral smile that she gave to every customer: not too big, not too small. “Here for the usual?”

“Yep,” Twilight said.

Applejack had already pulled up a bag. “Here ya go. Three bits, as usual.”

Twilight had already pulled out the money. Twilight grabbed the bag and Applejack grabbed the bits at nearly the same time.

Applejack smiled the same customer smile. “Thanks, Twilight. See ya next week.”

“Likewise.”

Twilight turned to leave. She had always liked Applejack. In all the time she had lived in Ponyville, of all the ponies she dealt with, Applejack minced words the least. Every week, they said the same few sentences to each other, and nothing else.

Twilight hadn’t started walking yet. Normally the lack of interaction would comfort her. It felt stable and reliable and unintrusive, which was just how Twilight liked things.

Yet her hoof didn’t move. A nagging something touched the back of her mind. The same feeling from when she had talked to Rarity. She had subconsciously chosen to ignore it then, but it felt stronger now.

Twilight turned around.

“What’s the matter, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. “Ya forget somethin’?”

Twilight didn’t answer right away. She wrestled for a few moments with that feeling, trying to analyze it somehow.

“Oh, I was just wondering how your brother and sister were doing.” The question made her cringe. Twilight wasn’t even sure if Applejack had a brother and sister. So why had she asked?

Applejack smiled again. This time it was a little more genuine, with more teeth. “They’re alright, thanks for askin’. Big Mac is outta town for a supplier’s convention, and Apple Bloom managed to get a decent report card fer once.” Applejack’s smile faltered a bit. “What about your, uh, family? I guess I don’t even know if you have any siblings or not.”

“Oh, my brother’s fine,” Twilight said. “Still captain of the guard in Canterlot, but I hear things are pretty slow these days.”

“Well, glad ta hear it. Did ya need anythin’ else?”

“No, I guess not. Have a good day.”

“Thanks, you too!”

Twilight turned to leave again, and this time her hooves actually moved. That was weird. She idly licked the roof of her mouth, wondering why that question had suddenly decided to spill out of her like that. And more importantly, why she had not stopped it.

Twilight pulled out her checklist for the day. “Meet Cheerilee for lunch at Lucky’s. (176 Sidesaddle Rd.)” She glanced at the sign for the fourth time. It definitely said “Lucky’s”, even though it used an obtuse font and was overlaid on a picture of a clover.

Twilight set the list on the table and tried to focus on something else. The weather looked nice and sunny, and there had been an outdoor table available. She had already dropped the groceries off at her house.

She glanced at the sign again. She had asked Cheerilee the name and address of the place twice. This had to be it. They should have just gone to Sugarcube Corner like they usually did. Cheerilee always tried to get Twilight to break from routine. Never mind that she liked her routine.

“Hi, Twilight! Sorry I’m late.”

Twilight blinked. Cheerilee had already sat down at the table.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Twilight said.

“Knowing you, you spent the entire time worrying about where I was.” Cheerilee propped her saddlebags against her chair. “I got sidetracked grading some tests. Normally I don’t like to make you panic.”

“I wasn’t panicking,” Twilight muttered.

Cheerilee chose not to correct her. It was obvious from the way she hid her smile. “So, what do you think?” She waved a hoof at the building. “Pretty nice place, right?”

“The view is alright,” Twilight said. “I told the waiter I was waiting for a friend, so I haven’t seen the menu yet.”

Cheerilee sighed. “Come now, Twilight. It’s just a slightly different restaurant. No need to be so cautious and…”

“And what?” Twilight asked. Her tone sounded more defensive than she had intended.

“I don’t know.”

“I showed up didn’t I? I chose not to make a fuss over it.”

“Well, perhaps not vocally, but your body language says otherwise,” Cheerilee said simply.

“So I like stability, then. Hardly unhealthy.”

“Yes, but there’s stability and then there’s actively avoiding growth.”

Twilight frowned. Cheerilee usually phrased her sentences more gently. “I’ll choose to ignore that.”

Cheerilee sighed again. “Speaking of rigid routines, I had a favor to ask you.”

“Oh?”

“We’re having a career week at the school, and I was hoping you could come in to speak with the students.”

Twilight stiffened. She should have expected this. Cheerilee always tried to get her to try new things and be more sociable and all that corny nonsense. The new restaurant was just a flanking maneuver, meant to soften her up for the actual assault. “Cheerilee…”

“Please, Twilight? You don’t need to make any speeches or anything, just talk about your job a little bit. Community awareness is a very big part of our curriculum. I’ve already asked a bunch of other ponies, and having as big a cross-section of our town as possible is important.”

“You’ll forgive me if awkward interaction with a bunch of judgmental children is not a high priority of mine.”

Cheerilee tried to keep her mouth from moving. If she had meant to frown or sigh, she restrained herself. “Fine, I won’t force the issue. You always were the type to make up your mind quickly.”

“That expression says otherwise.” Twilight reached for her water, mostly as an excuse to avoid eye contact with Cheerilee.

“I’m not judging you, I’m just worried,” Cheerilee said. “When was the last time you went out for something besides errands?”

“I’m happy to say that I don’t remember.”

“You know, socialization affects self-image—”

“Yes, I read Mead’s article too, you know.” Twilight finally put her glass down. She was certainly tempted to swirl it or sip it or something, but that would only help Cheerilee’s case. “I appreciate time alone, that’s all. Any pony would. I would much rather maintain my comfortable life than trap myself in an unpleasant one.”

“You make it sound so depressing.”

“Not being in control of your life certainly is depressing,” Twilight said.

Cheerilee finally grabbed her own glass of water. “I guess you aren’t going to Pinkie Pie’s party tonight, then?”

“Another one? Dare I ask what trivial thing this is for?”

“I believe it’s to celebrate the defeat of Discord.”

Ah yes, Twilight had heard of that. It had only happened a week or so ago. An ancient god (or was it demi-god?) had gotten loose and started trashing Canterlot and Ponyville. Thankfully, the entire event had been extremely uninterested in Twilight and her library, so she hadn’t really noticed it. She had spent most of the day curled up with a book, like usual.

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but no words came. She felt a sting in her chest, like the guilt before a lie or malicious inaccuracy. She coughed, and tried again. “I don’t really get along with Pinkie Pie.” The guilt did not fade. She knew it was true, though.

“There will be other ponies there. You get along with Rainbow Dash, don’t you? Don’t you want to congratulate your friend on defeating a horrible, ancient evil?”

Rainbow Dash certainly patroned the library consistently. The two of them had had more than a few conversations about books. Twilight didn’t really think of her as a “friend”, though. Twilight opened her mouth to say just that, but the statement stuck in her throat. She had never really considered Rainbow Dash more than an acquaintance. Now that Cheerilee had used the word, however, she didn’t know how to react.

“Rainbow Dash and I… Well, I guess we are friends, now that you say it.”

Cheerilee smiled. She probably used the same sort of smile whenever one of her students did something intelligently adorable. “You sound surprised.”

“Well, I don’t know. I suppose I never really thought of her that way, until now.”

“What changed?” Cheerilee did not stop smiling. While it probably felt flattering to a foal, to Twilight it felt dangerously close to patronizing.

“That’s a very good question.” Twilight took another drink of her water, this time to help herself think. A very good question indeed.

A waiter walked up to their table. “Hello, ladies. Sorry for the wait, bit of a busy day today.” He pulled a pair of menus from his bag. He had barely gotten them loose when Twilight pulled them out of his mouth.

It had certainly taken him long enough.