Startling Sunset Shimmer was no easy task. You either had to be Pinkie Pie’s older sister, Maud, randomly encountered in the middle of the night in a dimly lit kitchen, in a situation so surreal you’d question your own ability to discern dreams from reality, or you had to come up with something really unfair.

“Today? The inspector is coming today? But I thought you said he’d be visiting this Wednesday!”

Principal Celestia was digging through a cabinet in search of yet another document she needed to have at hand for the recently rescheduled inspection. “He’s a she, actually,” she corrected. “Believe me, I also wish we had more time to prepare, but there’s nothing we can do about it. She will be here at four o’clock sharp.”

Sunset’s jaw dropped a little. “An hour? But… but we only had the weekend to get ready!” she said. “I had a friend make tablecloths and curtains for decoration, Sonata and Mrs. Zecora went shopping, but the tea set I’ve ordered won’t be arriving until tomorrow! Also all the furniture is still standing in the corridor!” She fell to the chair, overwhelmed by the sudden change of pace. She rested her head on her fists and let out a crestfallen sigh. “Nobody even knows we’ll be open. The invitational posters aren’t ready yet, and we don’t want the inspector to think we’re not attracting anyone! It’s just so–”

“Sunset Shimmer, look at me,” Celestia said, putting a pile of papers away and granting her undivided attention to the girl. “I regret that my desire to present the school in a good light has interfered with your own, bold initiative. Please, do not worry about the inspector. Carry on as you’ve planned, and I’ll find another way of convincing her that the students of CHS are the most inventive of people. Neither you, nor your friend have anything to worry about it.”

Sunset sprung up from the chair.

“No! The Icebreaker will be ready for today. You have my word. I’ll find a way… somehow.”

Celestia nodded. “I admire your resolve. I’d love to assist you, but as you can see,” she embraced a tower of binders growing atop her desk, “I need to attend to paperwork,” she said. “I’m certain you’ll figure it out. Just hold on to what makes the Icebreaker special. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Sunset left the office slightly dissatisfied. Both Celestia the Princess and Celestia the Principal were cryptic and never gave you any real solution, encouraging you to “figure it out yourself” instead. It was probably more enlightening in the long run, but Sunset had never been of a patient kind. In fact, her impatience was one of the reasons she had parted ways with her old mentor…

No time for memories. Sunset had to act, and if not for herself or the school then she had to do it for her friend. Sonata got really excited about her idea making a difference at CHS. She told Sunset that in the past, her eagerness to do something unusual had been often extinguished by the rest of the Dazzlings, so a prospect of having an official taking a look at her design was kind of a big deal.

First things first: updating Sonata.

As she was typing the messages, Sunset wondered whom was she going to implore for a favor. Her options were rather limited, because most of the school wasn’t exactly friends with her, and even less accepted Sonata despite her undeniable charm. What a sad, vindictive society they lived in. One failed attempt to rule the world and you’re branded a bad element, or to put it bluntly, a weirdo.

Two consecutive jingles were heard. Sunset tapped the little scroll which twirled and unrolled itself onto the screen. The default settings had an envelope icon, but she tweaked her mobile with the help of some nerd, to fight the effects of the culture shock she experienced after leaving Equestria. It was of Old She’s initiative, actually, who forced the guy to do it through blatant intimidation. The New She never had a chance to make amends, but she was putting it as high on her list of priorities as possible. Admittedly, it wasn’t very high given the circumstances.

“Yes, for realzies, Sonata!” Sunset drawled at her mobile, picked up the pace, and tapped the screen furiously to form a firm response.

By the time she sent it she walked into someone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Flash! Oh, Flash, it’s great to see you!” Sunset exclaimed, her apologetic demeanor washed off by relief. “Are you busy? Please don’t be busy!”

Flash Sentry was a blue-haired guitar player who for undisclosed reasons was considered attractive by some of the girls. Sunset wasn’t among their ranks, and she actively wondered what was wrong with him and bumping into others, or standing in places in which others would bump into him.

“It’s nice… nice to see you too, Sunset,” he replied. “What’s the rush?”

“I could use your help. I’ve got a couple of sofas and tables I need to put in a classroom, and I’ve got curtains to hang up high. In short, I need muscles for a quick refurnishing service.”

“It’s for that café thing you and Dusk came up with, right? AJ told me all about it. Nice idea,” he said, then winced and rubbed his neck. “The thing is, my boys and I had plans for today. Why don’t you ask Diamond Dawgs, or whatever they call themselves now?”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “Please. I can’t afford the damage they’ll likely cause.”

“How about Snips and Snails? They used to tag along with you, right?”

“They’re worshipping Trixie now. Besides, one’s a twig, and the other can’t reach his feet.”

“Bulk Biceps! He’s your physical type, and much more cautious than he seems.”

“He’s out with Octavia. At the Regional Cello Championship, that’s what I meant.”

Flash smirked. “Mhm. I can’t believe these two are a thing now. Good for them.”

“Yeah, the Showcase really brought them– gah, I’m not here to trade gossips, Flash!” Sunset said. “Come on, it won’t take long. Don’t make me play the whole damsel in distress thing on you.”

“I bet I’ll never live to see that,” Flash replied. “Listen, I want to help you, I really do. It’s just…” he hesitated, pausing for a moment. “We barely talk these days, and now you’re coming with a request all of a sudden. I don’t want to get dragged into helping you with your personal goals all over again. I mean, you’re alright in my book now, it’s only that I still kind of remember what happened the last time I did, if you know what I mean?”

“The Icebreaker isn’t just mine, or for me,” Sunset replied. “It was Sonata’s idea, and we’re bringing it to everyone at CHS,” she added. “Besides, keep in mind that our deal worked both ways. When Mr. Popular is seen hanging out with the triple Fall Formal victress he’s guaranteed to get a fair share of attention and dreamy sighs from the school’s prettier part. I wasn’t the only one after popularity, remember?”

There was a moment of awkward silence between them.

Sunset exhaled a tired breath. “Ugh, we were so stupid back then.”

“Yeah, we were,” Flash added. “Listen, uhm, I’ll get the boys and we’ll help you, and if they won’t be able to make it then I’ll come by myself, okay?”

“Great! Meet me at the old chemistry lab in the basement as soon as possible,” she said. “And Flash? Thanks. I owe you one.”

Flash replied with a slightly embarrassed smile. He shot his fingers at the girl, then headed towards the foyer. Sunset turned back and ventured deeper into the school’s hallways, pondering about what just happened.

First off, that felt really clumsy. After breaking up they agreed to never mention the details of their deal to anyone, or admitting how awful they were as a “couple”. It resulted in never talking to each other, and having to deal with this strange feeling of existing in the same reality as the person you were once interested in – for what reason regardless – but under different conditions than before. They both knew there would never be anything between them, ever, and they both made effort to act as casual as they could to remain indifferent in the eyes of others. It became quite straining for Sunset over time. She wondered if Flash felt the same way.

Perhaps with the Icebreaker up and running she could ask him out for a cup of tea so they could talk like adults, or at least not like childish fame chasers. It wouldn’t be a date, obviously, as Sunset wasn’t into anyone at the moment, let alone Flash Sentry, while Flash himself was a different story. Still, maybe they could end up as colleagues.

One thing taken care of, likely a dozen to go.

Sunset decided that getting a full tea set was crucial. Her aesthetic sense wouldn’t let her borrow personal cups and mugs from each teacher, and then pretend they made a set. However, she had already exhausted the funds she received from Celestia with ordering a pretty set online, from a shop at the other side of town. Mrs. Zecora had access to a credit card, sure, but turning her and Sonata around would be madness during rush hours. Sunset preferred to have them both at school as soon as possible. She needed a more immediate solution, anyway.

Then it struck her. There was only one place in the entire school where Sunset was bound to find immediate solutions. Convincing Flash to help her was one thing, but to turn the Icebreaker fully operational she had to resort to those much crazier than she was, who excelled in the ridiculous and could come up with convoluted ideas often riskier than breaking into the heart of the Crystal Castle.

A distrait smile adorned Sunset’s lips. Regardless of her motives, that particular part of her plan went flawlessly.

She glanced through the glass in the door. Behind it was a perfectly ordinary classroom where the toughest of juvenile minds resided. They knew CHS inside out, and traversed the length and breadth of its hallways numerous times. If anyone could help her with their quick, out-of-the-box thinking and astonishingly broad resourcefulness, that would be them.

Sunset knocked on the door.

“Excuse me, Miss Cheerilee. Principal Celestia wants to see Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle at her office. She made it sound urgent.”

Miss Cheerilee, an ambitious literature teacher and head librarian rolled her eyes. She didn’t seem surprised, not in the slightest, apparently used to the antics of her students. She glared with helplessness at the last row, where the trio looked upon each other, mouthing silent questions. They raised from their desks in unison and left the classroom accompanied by murmurs and comments of their peers. As far as Sunset could tell, they were equally mocking as they were of admiration.

They walked half the length of the corridor when Sunset grabbed them to the side.

“Crusaders! I need your help!”

Apple Bloom seemed most surprised. “Wait, you mean we’re not getting’ suspended again?”

“No, that was my way of busting you out. You’re welcome, by the way. You seemed bored.”

Sweetie Belle groaned. “You’d be bored too if you had to figure out what some guy meant by blue windowsills in his mediocre piece of poetry,” she said. “Still, you need our help? What for?”

“Short version. I’m setting a café at school, it has to be ready for today, and I don’t have a decent tea set. I can’t run a café without cups in which I could serve the drinkables.”

Scootaloo blew at her fringe. “The Icemelter, Apple Bloom’s sister told us all about it. Thanks a lot for taking our chemistry lab. Now we can’t finish– ouch!” she exclaimed as Sweetie Belle punched her in the ribs. “I mean, why should we help you? It’s not like we owe you anything.”

Normally Sunset would resort to a kind smile, but she was aware that her charm wasn’t going to be very effective against the three incarnations of deviousness. A flattery, then. “Everybody knows that together you’re a one, unstoppable good idea machine,” she said. “I need your smarts! Is there a way I could get a nice set without taking a trip to the town?”

The Crusaders turned back at her to form a secretive council.

“…limited time and resources…”

“…locker room stash…”

“…we can do it before Miss Cheerilee notices…”

They lined up in front of Sunset, all three with their arms crossed. Scootaloo stepped forward, clearly violating Sunset’s personal space on her right. “Alright, let’s say we can get you your tea set. What’s in it for us?”

Mercenaries, not kids!

“Oh, great, so we’re bartering for your help now?” Sunset said with a frown. “You won’t help me just because you’re good students? Fine. Just don’t tell me you want me to do your math homework for a week or something.”

Apple Bloom moved closer as well, flanking Sunset from the left. “Not at all. We’ve got someone on that already,” she said. “You’ve got a car, right?”

Sunset’s eyes grew wide. “You want my car? Forget it.”

“Not forever, of course, and not at the moment,” Sweetie Belle said, checking her nail polish in the most evil way possible. “We may need one for our special project by the end of the school year. We may also need a driver. You do have a license, don’t you?” she asked, to which Sunset nodded, albeit with reluctance. Sweetie took a step forward, joining her friends and environing the girl further. “So how will it be? A favor for a favor?”

Sunset looked down at the human fence the height of her chest. She knew, she was certain they had some hidden agenda on this one. The Crusaders were as crafty and deceptive as the changelings, but they were also highly efficient in their doings. The only difference was that the changelings had a figure of authority over them, while these girls had none. Yet.

“Is that a guarantee?” Sunset asked. “I need a guarantee, guys.”

As if on an unspoken command, the trio stepped back into the line. They put their hands on their waists and raised their heads, chins high and proud.

“Have the Crusaders ever failed you?” Sweetie Belle asked with sublime confidence.

“Well, I’m sure I could think of something,” Sunset replied. “Alright. Deal.”

When the Crusaders scurried down the hallway, Sunset realized how much she enjoyed driving her car. It was a fine car. She’d hate to see it gone up in flames. Nonetheless, that would be a problem for future Sunset to deal with.

Assuming the inspector was true to her words, Sunset had about forty-five minutes to tidy up. Plus some time between the arrival and Celestia taking her to the basement. By then she had to mop the floor, dust the chairs, furnish the place, hang the curtains, cloth the tables, unpack the supplies, prepare the cups, boil the water–

First she had to take a deep breath, though. She wasn’t alone on this one. Sonata will be here soon, and she’ll be helping, right?

Somehow that didn’t make her feel any easier.

The classroom looked nothing like a chemistry lab it once was, devoid of desks and lab glassware, as all had been taken away by the janitor. He claimed that he could make a good use of old pin boards and chemistry-themed posters, but the truth was he would say that to anything which was in need of immediate utilization. Students saw him bring all kinds of stuff to his storage, but he rarely carried anything out. Rumor has it he had a gateway to another dimension in there, and while Sunset found little credence in such claim, she was from a different world herself, so who was she to judge? Besides, she never had any problems with Good Ol’ Janitor Discord.

In place of typical school desks and chairs, five sofas were placed around the room. These came as a donation from a parent who ran a business specializing in ballpoint pens and sofas, and happened to be overstocked. For a long time Principal Celestia couldn’t find a proper place for them, as the hallways were too narrow, the library already had some, and the cafeteria didn’t need them. In the end, they were also taken away from the foyer after some more romantic couples made them their place for showing affection. Seriously, they were cuddling in the foyer, for all to see.

Each sofa had a table to match, though each and every one had a different shape. Small, wide, high or bizarre, they were all covered with elegant tablecloth so you couldn’t tell these were actually old school desks with various amounts of legs underneath. All thanks to the janitor who cut, stuck, and welded them that way. As long as they weren’t falling apart, everything was fine.

Finally, for those who didn’t want to relax at those avant-garde makeshift tables, but were rather keen on conducting business, several classical square tables stood in the middle of the room. At one of them, on the far side from an improvised counter, Principal Celestia and her guest were having a tea.

Mrs. Harshwhinny was a strict lady in her mid-forties, or so she looked. She was wearing a purple jacket and a matching velvet scarf, with round earrings complementing her elegant, but not too extravagant look. There was something in her stare telling she’d notice everything you could possibly do wrong, but at the same time she beamed with cold professionalism which suggested she wasn’t going to use that knowledge against you without a good reason.

If she found one, however, she would indubitably discriminate you and toss into a hole of eternal infamy from which there was no escape.

Celestia smiled. “Would you like some sugar?”

“No, thank you,” Mrs. Harshwhinny said, then took another sip. “I see why you wanted to end our tour with this place. Their tea is… quite acceptable, I admit. I see the cups are unique, too.”

There was no porcelain cups at the Icebreaker. Mrs. Harshwhinny had her tea in a white ceramic mug hand-painted with even indigo streaks, and a blue diamond pattern along the edge. Celestia, in turn, got a yellow one with delicate pink butterflies flying just over the base of the cup.

Celestia raised hers, wondering how did Sunset Shimmer find a mysteriously missing crate of mugs lost during the last renovation of the eastern wing. “We’ve asked our students to make them as part of a schoolwide arts and crafts project some time ago. They were to choose the color of their liking, and ornate the mug with symbols meaningful to them,” she said. “I believe they express that the café is a place for each and every student, not just older ones.”

“So it would seem.”

Mrs. Harshwhinny took another large sip. It appeared she had her insides covered in titanium or some such material, because the hotness of the beverage was nothing for her throat. “Canterlot High indeed seems to be a place for young people to learn and grow.” She put the cup away and glanced into her notepad. “However, as I’ve mentioned in our call, there have been certain incidents which needs to be cleared up. Let me see,” she flipped the pages, “Ah, here. Misses Shimmer, Dazzle, Blaze, and Dusk? They have been reported as problematic, to say the least. Some parents issued a number of official letters of complaint demanding the immediate removal of those girls.”

“Ah, these incidents.” Celestia looked up as if she had just remembered some meaningless event from the past which in no way threatened her school now. She turned in her chair and beckoned at Sunset and Sonata. “Girls, would you mind coming up?” she said. “Mrs. Harshwhinny, I’d like you to meet Sunset Shimmer and Sonata Dusk, the two students who proposed the idea of the school café and arranged this place.”

As she was speaking the school bell rang, muffled by a layer of concrete over their heads. Sunset and Sonata exchanged nervous glances, smoothed their shirts and approached the table. They smiled at the inspector who responded with utmost professional indifference, tinged with a dose of disbelief.

“Is that so?” she asked. “Aren’t they too young to bear such responsibility?”

Celestia brought her own professional demeanor to the table. “I assure you they are bright girls with outstanding potential which one can see once she gets to know them better,” she said. “They are under the supervision of one of our most experienced educators, Mrs. Zecora. Who knows, perhaps in the future they’ll be running a lovely café in the city center?”

Sonata leaned over the table. “We really appreciate what Principal Celestia and CHS are doing for us, students. Without her support, we wouldn’t be able to be who we are today, and we are who we are thanks to what she’s doing for us. Today, and every day,” she added. “We hope to make this café a place for our friends to meet and have fun together.”

As if on cue, a group of students entered the room. These were mostly Sunset’s friends, or the people she had dared to text at the last minute, who were desperately seeking for a place to unwind after an hour of deciphering the scribbles of Professor Sombra. Applejack was chatting with Pinkie Pie bouncing by her side, while Rarity and Fluttershy set a course for the nearest sofa where they continued to flip through a magazine about foreign fashion. Flash Sentry was teasing Rainbow Dash, to which she seemed to respond with her usual brashness.

The intensity of Sonata’s smile did not falter as she crossed eyes with the unmoved inspector. Sunset dragged her away. “Excuse us, Mrs. Inspector, we have to attend the café.” She nodded at Celestia. “Ma’am principal.”

As they went away, Mrs. Harshwhinny smiled in approval, which in her case meant the corners of her mouth rising insignificantly. “Is it always that crowded in here?“

“So far there hasn’t been a day with lesser attendance,” Celestia replied.

“I’ve seen instances where a school club consisted of three students, and still applied for our support program. Here I see a valid initiative, and I’m inclined to believe the government funds won’t be put in vain.” She took the last sip. “Principal Celestia, I think I saw all I needed to see. The official decision regarding the funding will be made by the end of this month, but the odds are in your favor.”

She was about to get up, but Celestia reached out and stopped her. She lowered her voice to a quiet talk. “What about the other reason you’ve come here? The letters of complaint you mentioned?”

Mrs. Harshwhinny glanced at Sunset and Sonata, then matched Celestia’s conspiratorial tone without losing an inch of her professionalism. “As far as I’m concerned, and despite some parents’ demanding tone, my department has no interest in imposing any authority over your students, and we will not attempt to have them removed,” she said. “As long as your office maintains the current level of expertise you’ll see no problems from us.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

Mrs. Harshwhinny and Principal Celestia left the Icebreaker, with the latter turning in the doors and smiling at the two girls. Sunset wondered what the two of them had been talking about. The way the inspector looked at her was a bit disturbing, to say the least. Still, she wasn’t allowed to ponder on it for too long, because she found herself clenched in Sonata’s tight embrace.

“We did it!” Sonata exclaimed. “We saved the school! Woo-hoo!”

“We did– wait, what?” Sunset deadpanned. “You do realize it wasn’t about saving the school, right? If anything, we only helped Principal Celestia get additional funds, that’s all.”

Sonata grinned, the fakeness of her surprise as clear as the sky on a cloudless day. “So you’re saying nothing bad would have happened if we messed up?”

“You’re doing your thing again.”

“Wha–what did I say?”

Dealing with Sonata mornings and evenings, Sunset could see through her deception with ease. “You’re pretending to be sillier than you actually are,” she replied, hugging her once more. “Never change, Sonata. I’m glad you’ve stayed with us,” she added. “Now come on, we can’t leave our first guests hanging!”

“Oh, so I’ll put the kettle on, and unpack the biscuits!” Sonata said and retreated to the storage. She peeked from behind a doorjamb, waiting for Sunset to be sufficiently far away. She smiled. “Also, thanks for believing in me, Sunny.”

Dear Princess Twilight,

We’ve successfully set up a café at CHS and called it the Icebreaker. This may be a way of keeping the students together, because while spectacular events like the Fall Formal or the Musical Showcase seem to be bringing us together (in the end), I feel that we can’t wait for them to happen. I’m not an expert, obviously, but I think the magic of friendship can manifest itself in small things as well. A smile, a helpful gesture, a good word said from one to another (and “another to one”).

Fun fact. The above is an excerpt from a brain puzzle Princess Celestia used to tease me with when I was her student. She said that solving it held the key to the magic of friendship. I couldn’t figure it out back then, but today I think there’s too much emphasis on “one” along these lines. I think I’d rewrite it into something more like “from all of us together” or something like that. Would you mind asking the Princess if I’m on the right track?

Feel free to drop by CHS if you’re in for a warming cup of tea! In other words: see you all later at the Icebreaker!

Your friend,
Sunset Shimmer

PS: Sonata says hi!

Author's Notes:

Thanks for reading!