Twilight paced back and forth, chewing on one of her bangs and as she tried to figure out what in Equestria she had done to make Sunset and Moon Dancer so upset.

Shortly after arriving in her small one-bedroom apartment—conveniently RCA-adjacent—she’d started pacing near her bed, but that hadn’t helped. Her bedroom was quite small. After all, there was barely enough room for her bed. All the other space was taken up by more important things.

Namely books.

So, an hour after practically spinning in a circle inside her bedroom, she’d stepped out to the living room. The living room contained three times as many books as there were in her bedroom, but there were at least ten square feet of paceable carpet there.

She’d spent most of the night in the living room, constantly in motion, both in body and in mind.

Twilight thought on the potential vectors of problems. She thought on the solutions. She considered how her studies in the last eight weeks might apply. However, she had yet to encounter a lesson in which an unknown rift was causing relationship complications with two individuals who were best friends in addition to being another individual’s friend. That was outside the scope of her new training, at least at present.

Indeed, friendship in general, was far too new of a subject for her to approach with anything resembling rational thought, no matter how hard she tried.

At several points in the night, she had eschewed the traditional back-and-forth pacing and shifted into a circular pattern. If any of her friends had seen her, they’d probably tease her about wearing a rut in the floor. However, upon further inspection, there was indeed a section of carpet that was slightly lower than the rest, indicating she used a consistent path on a regular basis to help with her thought processes.

Apparently, any teasing regarding the nature of her thought processes and their locomotive aspects would be warranted.

She stifled a yawn and looked up at the clock, which indicated the time to be eleven forty-three in the morning. On most days, she’d already be at the Royal Canterlot Archives at this time, either as a patron or in her official role as Assistant Lead Archivist.

She had spent most of her days off there, too. In fact, nearly every waking moment had been spent in that wonderful, glorious collection of books, tomes, scrolls and compendiums. A life of endless words and endless knowledge. Wonder and magic. There was enough there to keep her mind busy for eons.

And then Sunset Shimmer had come into her life again.

Not as a bully. Not as a monster. She’d come back into her life… as a completely different pony.

Despite her complete and utter lack of sleep, Twilight continued her pacing, opting for an elliptical pattern around the coffee table. The coffee table was stacked with books. A Study on Chaos Theory sat at the top of said stack.

Sunset had forced Twilight to develop relationships once more. With both new ponies and ponies from her younger years. It had been a strange experience. It still was a strange experience.

Twilight Sparkle actually had friends now.

The concept was alien, unfamiliar, bizarre… almost illogical. It was also true.

But what was more disconcerting was what these relationships had done to her emotional state.

She forced herself to stop pacing and finish the last piece of fruit from her hastily-constructed breakfast of apples and crackers. It had been made during a brief moment of downtime before the sun had risen.

Then, the pacing resumed.

The most troubling aspect of this new part of her life was the effect she had on her new friends. She had done the research. There were several hypotheses. Many of them indicated these apparent effects to be nothing more than simple coincidences. They were events occurring within the lives of her friends. Incidents in which she had no relevance. Indeed, almost every hypothesis she had developed was a simple explanation. A safe explanation.

One was not.

That hypothesis had come about as a direct result of the rather barbed comment Moon Dancer had thrown at Sunset during their argument in relation to the ongoing behavior of one of their mutual friends, Lemon Hearts.

Despite the fact that the analogy could not possibly be true—though it had to be considered for the sake of thoroughness—the concept refused to stop pestering her. And after the conflict last night in the RCA, Twilight’s concerns had been heightened to the point where sleep—despite Sunset’s instructions—was not possible.

“Nothing about this is simple,” Twilight declared to the empty room. Empty save for her precious books—and a few small pictures and certification plaques. They said nothing in response, which was as it should be. Inanimate objects did not speak after all. Not without the appropriate spells.

She was halfway through her two hundred and twenty-fourth orbit around her coffee table when a knock sounded at the door. This caused a momentary lapse at a critical stage of her hoofwork, as it distracted her and caused her to bang her left forehoof against said coffee table. As a direct result, Twilight Sparkle crashed to the floor, tumbled twice and smacked hard into one of her bookcases.

Twilight had a somewhat mixed view on the concept of destiny. She disliked the concept on principle, as it implied unseen forces at work in her life. However, she was familiar with a particular variant of ‘destiny’ used in many pieces of satire. Namely, ‘narrative causality.’ She suspected she was a victim of this strange phenomenon when two psychology textbooks landed on her head, followed closely by a novel featuring a rather comely unicorn mare with another—

Twilight cursed and immediately flung that book through the door into her bedroom. That book was not permitted to be in public view.

Ever.

A second knock sounded at the door.

“One moment!” Twilight called.

“You okay in there?” came the all-too-familiar voice which immediately brought both a blush and thoughts of that book to Twilight’s mind. She banished both the physical sensation and the errant thought to the depths of space beyond the moon.

“Yes, just… doing some cleaning!”

It was a terrible lie. She knew it to be one. She knew her new houseguest knew it was one as well. However, it was the best she could conjure on short notice. So, she went with it, knowing her guest would likely not question the obvious fabrication.

Still, there was no further knocking as Twilight instinctively reshelved the two textbooks in their proper place. She adjusted her glasses and went to open the door… only to pause just before taking the handle in her magic.

She ran into the bathroom, inspected her mane, brushed it several times, redid the bun, tweaked her bangs just a little, checked her tail, inspected her coat and proceeded to then—and only then—take a deep breath.

In the mirror was the reflection of a unicorn who looked very confused. About everything. About existence itself.

It was also a reflection of a unicorn who was being unspeakably rude by allowing a guest to stand on her doorstep. She almost cursed again as she scampered back out into the living room, took another deep breath and finally opened the door before she lost her nerve.

She froze in horror.

It was raining.

She’d left Sunset Shimmer standing out in the rain.

“Oh my gosh!” Twilight squeaked. “I am so sorry! Please forgive me! I didn’t know it was raining!”

Sunset blinked at her a few times and then glanced up at the teal umbrella-like shield that kept her dry.

“It’s fine, Twilight,” Sunset said. She broke into a wan smile. “It just started a few minutes ago.”

“Still, it’s unforgivable!” Twilight said as yanked Sunset inside her home with a surge of magic.

Sunset was apparently not ready for this, as she almost stumbled face-first into the coffee table, which had apparently decided it was out for pony blood today.

However, Twilight felt her magic get shoved aside by the raw force of Sunset’s own magic. Twilight almost tripped, but managed to catch herself before making an even bigger scene, while Sunset steadied herself on a nearby bookcase.

“Twilight, one of these days, you really need to learn to relax a little,” Sunset said as she shook the water from her hooves on Twilight’s front mat and closed the door. “I’m not going to hate you because you tripped and fell into a bookcase again.”

Twilight stopped and went red. “You… uh… heard that, huh?”

“You do it almost every time somepony knocks on your door.”

“I’m not used to visitors,” Twilight admitted, staring at Sunset’s hooves. “It’s… still new to me. Especially after the first time.”

Sunset sighed. “I already apologized for accidentally knocking a hole through your front door. And I think the new door looks great.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Twilight squeaked.

She looked up only to see Sunset smiling at her with a strangely fond expression. It added further evidence for the one specific hypothesis she had uncovered in her studies.

“I know you didn’t,” Sunset said softly. “Now, please, take a deep breath and stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking!” Twilight squealed.

Sunset raised an eyebrow.

Finally, Twilight did as requested. She closed her eyes, took a moment and used the breathing exercise Princess Celestia had taught her six weeks ago. It took three tries, but by the time she opened her eyes, her heart no longer felt as if it were going to explode from high blood pressure. It was simply back to what most ponies would consider racing, but she considered perfectly normal.

“Mind if I sit down?” Sunset asked.

“Uh… sure?” Twilight mumbled. Her heart may have settled, but her brain hadn’t. “Look about last night—”

“Last night… wasn’t your fault,” Sunset interrupted as she settled into the cushions of Twilight’s old couch. “It was my fault and Moon Dancer’s fault. I would say it had nothing to do with you… but that’s not strictly true.”

Twilight cocked her head. “I don’t understand.”

Sunset stared at her for a long time.

“Ugh,” she muttered, almost as if she were talking to herself. That was probably the case, since Twilight had witnessed Sunset doing that several times now. “I thought this would be easier after this morning, but it’s not. This is still going to suck.”

“I… I don’t know what’s going on, Sunset. I’m confused.”

“I know. And… that’s—again—my fault. A little bit of Moon Dancer’s fault, but mostly mine.”

“But what is the fault?” Twilight asked. “You aren’t making sense!”

“I know,” Sunset muttered as she glanced at the walls lined with bookcases. “I know I’m not. But it’s… this is hard for me, okay? I thought I was ready for this, but apparently I’m not.”

Twilight slowly moved to the other side of the coffee table and pulled up a chair. Something within her—a new little impulse that had appeared shortly after that moment in the Stack Archives—told her she needed to wait. This impulse came intermittently and it didn’t always come up around Sunset.

But she knew it had started with her.

So, she waited as Sunset gathered her thoughts. Twilight didn’t stare. That would have been rude. But she also didn’t want to appear as if she were bored or not paying attention. That would have also been rude. So, she just glanced at Sunset occasionally between bouts of staring at her copy of A Study on Chaos Theory.

Time passed. Twilight was unsure as to how much. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the clock.

However, at one point, she did look up and see the picture she had framed near her front door. An unexpected gift from Minuette. A picture of Twilight with her new friends, at the end of what Equestria Daily had called ’The Great Failed Snowball Coup,’ which in reality was simply an intense snowball fight that the Princess herself had somehow gotten involved in. All of her friends were there, smiling happily and a little sleepily.

Friends who were so much more important than her.

There was Coco Pommel, a fashion legend and the Design Manager for Coloratura’s stage productions. Next to her was Coloratura herself, the famed pop star whose music was recognized across Equestria and beyond. Minuette—widely regarded as the most brilliant clockmaker in the last two hundred years—was laughing as usual. Off to the side was Cheerilee, a gifted teacher who had actually taught at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns before taking over her own schoolhouse in Ponyville. And then…

Twilight swallowed as she looked at the last two faces in the picture.

One was… her first real friend. The one she had pushed away because she had been scared. The only one who had understood Twilight. Somepony who—even when they were both fillies—could talk to Twilight at her level. A pony who’d only grown wittier and more dynamic in the years they’d been apart. Not only that, but a masterful librarian as well. She could have a position at the RCA in a heartbeat if she wanted it, but Moon Dancer wanted to help others and work her unique magic at the Canterlot Cosmopolitan Library. Twilight couldn’t help but admire just how loyal she was to her patrons.

Then, there was Sunset.

Twilight didn’t even know how to start describing Sunset Shimmer.

How did I end up having six of the most amazing mares in the world as friends? I don’t deserve this. I’m nopony special. Despite the Princess’s assurances… I don’t think I ever will be. I’m just a pony who’s good with books.

“Twilight.”

The name shocked her out of her reverie. She jumped and her glasses promptly fell off. Twilight scrambled for them, but they bounced under the coffee table.

Evil, evil coffee table!

Knowing full well she looked like an idiot, she searched beneath the table with her magic. However, Sunset was faster. She managed to fish them out with a single spell and floated the eyewear back up to Twilight. They landed on her muzzle with the touch of a butterfly.

She even put them in exactly the right position.

Twilight couldn’t have hidden the blush if she wanted to. In fact, she did want to. And, despite her best effort, as she had previously surmised, she was unable to do so.

Truth be told, Twilight wasn’t completely oblivious, despite what she suspected many around her believed. She had noticed Sunset blush during a few awkward moments they had. Or… other kinds of moments.

This was one of those kinds of moments.

But Sunset wasn’t blushing. She looked…

Sad?

“Twilight…” Sunset repeated and licked her lips. “Look, I… can I ask you something?”

Twilight blinked in surprise. “Of course, Sunset. You can ask me anything.”

“Did you see anything else that afternoon?”

Sunset didn’t need to say what afternoon she was referring to. A day hadn’t gone by when Twilight hadn’t thought about that afternoon.

“Why do you ask?” Twilight hedged.

“Please…” Sunset asked quietly. “I need to know.”

Finally, Twilight nodded. “I saw a lot of things other than you in front of that mirror.”

“Did you see the first time?”

For a moment, Twilight considered lying. But it was only for a moment.

“Yes.”

Sunset’s ears flattened. “I see.”

Twilight may have been socially inept—especially compared to her newfound friends—but she could see the impact her answer had had on Sunset.

“It didn’t bother me, Sunset,” Twilight said quickly. “I saw a lot of things in those few seconds. When I think back to that day, every time, I remember something a little different. I saw the day you got your cutie mark. I saw you when your mane was about twelve feet long after Moon Dancer’s chaos surge.”

“It was not twelve feet long!” Sunset protested.

Twilight couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, fine. Eleven.”

Sunset rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything else. Twilight took that as her cue to continue.

“I saw… I saw your parents’ reaction to you getting into Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. And I saw what you did to Lemon Hearts. I even saw myself a few times.”

“Wonderful,” Sunset sighed, rubbing her face with her hooves.

Twilight cocked her head. Sunset’s obvious discomfort battled her own incessant curiosity in a brief but intense struggle. Curiosity came out the victor. “Why are you asking now? It’s been two months.”

“Because I was afraid of the answer,” Sunset said with a shrug. “Because I didn’t want to find out if you knew just how horrible of a pony I was.”

“I know what you used to be,” Twilight said with a shake of her head. “I also saw what you’ve done since. I saw you apologize to Lemon Hearts and keep trying even though she was adamant about rejecting you. I saw you help out Cheerilee when she was at her lowest. I saw you save Trixie from that awful Svengallop. I saw you playing with Philomena. I saw a lot of things.”

“Yeah… apparently you did.” Sunset muttered. Her ears were still flat against her head. “You think about it a lot?”

Twilight nodded.

That particular hypothesis felt more and more likely the longer Sunset was in her home.

“One more question…” Sunset said. The words were slow and she didn’t meet Twilight’s eyes. The rain was starting to come down hard outside. Twilight could hear it against the window. “Do you remember what Princess Celestia said in the observatory the day I introduced you?”

From what Twilight could see of Sunset’s expression, the other mare already knew the answer. But Sunset evidently needed to hear it anyway. Twilight at least knew that much about relationships. But giving that answer proved to be more difficult than she would have thought.

Several long seconds passed before Twilight managed to provide Sunset with the information she had requested.

“Yes.”

Sunset nodded. “Thought you would.”

“Sunset, I—”

She held up a hoof. “Let me get this out, please. If I stop, I won’t ever be able to do it.”

Twilight fell silent, even though there was a rather large sector of her mind that was telling her in no uncertain terms she should not respect that particular request.

She did anyway.

Still, the silence stretched, testing Twilight’s patience. She was about to lose her battle not to speak when Sunset finally opened her muzzle.

“I like you, Twilight. I like you a lot.”

Sunset didn’t meet Twilight’s gaze. She was staring at her hooves. She looked utterly miserable for a moment before the expression faded, replaced by one of calm resignation.

As for Twilight, she found herself unable to process current events in a logical fashion. This was such a deviation from the norm that the sheer astonishment of the situation made her almost miss the next statement.

“And… I think I like you too much.”

Twilight stiffened. Sunset still didn’t look up. Twilight didn’t take her eyes off the mare.

“I think that spell is really screwing with my mind. All that stuff you saw? I think about it and see different things, too. I think about it all the time.” Her voice hitched. “All the time.” Then she forced herself to continue. “And it makes me think we’re closer than we really are. It makes me want to be closer… than we… than we are… or… should be…”

Twilight didn’t know how to respond to this. This was the confirmation of the hypothesis. The single one. The complicated one. Yet, she couldn’t say a thing. Neural impulses from her brain to her mouth seemed to be blocked by an unknown element.

Finally, Sunset looked up and almost met her eyes.

Almost.

“I think Princess Celestia has… well, I’m pretty sure she has the right idea. We’re just now learning how to be friends. We… um… shouldn’t complicate things by trying to go… um… farther than that.”

Twilight found herself unable to interact with the outside world. She couldn’t even determine her emotional state after hearing what Sunset had just told her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. It was a most annoying sensation. It was also familiar…

I’m having a panic attack, Twilight realized. A mild one. But it is definitely a panic attack. But why? There’s no logical reason to be panicking right now.

“Look, we’ve been dancing around this ever since that afternoon,” Sunset said quickly as she fiddled with her hooves, practically wringing them together. “I… it’s not good for us. And… I think there’s somepony else who might like to get to know you better. I think you’d like her. You might even suspect who I’m talking about. You’re far… she’s a good pony.”

Twilight blinked again.

“Twilight, you’re kinda leaving me hanging here…” Sunset said with a hint of exasperation. “Could you say something, please? I already feel like a total idiot.”

Some friend you are. She’s obviously putting herself in a difficult emotional situation for your sake and you can’t even react. That is not the act of a good friend. The Princess would be disappointed in you.

“I’m sorry!” Twilight squeaked. “I… Well, I guess I should say that this is a surprise, but it’s really not since we both know that there’s been this… this… this… thing between us since that afternoon, you weren’t wrong about that but I didn’t know what to do about it or even if I should do anything about it and I felt so utterly lost because nothing like this has ever happened to me and I never even really expected it to happen to me, especially not from somepony like… like...”

She trailed off before she finished that last thought. Twilight was rather surprised Sunset had not stopped her frantic ramble. Her usual response was to just shove a hoof in her muzzle. That approach tended to be the most effective.

Instead, Sunset smiled a little.

Twilight suspected she knew why Sunset was smiling now. It was illogical. It was insane.

At that moment, Twilight realized Sunset enjoyed watching her ramble like some crazed lunatic.

Maybe… maybe she thinks… Maybe she thinks when I do that, I’m being cu—

No. Down that road lies madness. I can’t think like that.

“So, you’ve felt it too?” Sunset asked in a voice that was barely audible over the rising storm outside.

Twilight nodded. Words wanted to come out, but Twilight was sure they’d be total gibberish.

“Well, that’s some small comfort.” Sunset gave her a wry smile. “And here I was worried that I might be working myself up over nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It’s not nothing,” Twilight mumbled. “But… I don’t understand. What you’re saying is that you like me… like like me… but you… you don’t want to do anything about it? You don’t… you don’t want anything to do with me?”

Sunset’s eyes nearly popped from her head and she reached forward to grab Twilight’s hooves in her own. Twilight noted in a detached way that she was so confused, she didn’t blush.

Much.

“Oh Celestia, no!” Sunset cried. “I’m not saying that. I’m not saying that at all. Twilight, you’re my friend now. You probably understand me better than any of our other friends. Not only that, but you’re my… you’re my… I guess… peer might be the right word. You’re Celestia’s student, too! She brought you on to study and work with me! As partners! I care about what happens to you. I want to see you enjoy yourself. I like seeing you happy. I love seeing—”

Sunset yanked her hooves back, but Twilight got the sense it wasn’t out of anything Twilight had done, but instead, Sunset was forcibly reining herself in. The other mare took a few deep breaths and continued at a far more controlled pace.

“That’s the problem,” Sunset said with a bittersweet laugh. “I do care for you. And… I’m not good for you, Twilight. I’m not good for anypony, really.”

“That’s not—”

“You’ve seen what I’ve done,” Sunset interrupted. “Some of the things I did I can never make up for. It doesn’t matter that they were years ago. It doesn’t matter if I was young, arrogant and stupid. It doesn’t matter if everyone says it’s over and settled. It wouldn’t matter if every single pony I’d hurt marched up to me, officially forgave me and threw me a party! It doesn’t matter. I’m responsible. It’s my fault. Nothing will ever change that.”

“So… you’re not allowed to be happy?” Twilight asked. She paused and wondered where those words had come from.

Sunset looked just as surprised as Twilight. She hesitated. She hesitated for a long time.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe it’s my destiny to constantly try and make up for my past. Here’s the truth, Twilight: even if I wanted to…” She laughed. “And even if you wanted to, I’m in no state to be in… that kind of relationship right now.”

“Oh.”

It was the only thing Twilight could think to say. It was currently impossible for her to articulate her actual reaction to this confession. To Sunset’s announcement that Sunset Shimmer—of all the ponies in the world—actually had romantic feelings toward her.

Twilight Sparkle. A regular, boring unicorn who was good with books. Who had somehow become the student of Princess Celestia.

No, it wasn’t somehow. It was because of Sunset. Sunset had given her that chance. Given her a dream she’d kept in a secret place within her for so many years. It was a dream she would take out occasionally in the dead of night and wonder about. She’d think about what it would be like. It was like looking into a snowglobe: looking at the dream, but knowing you could never touch it. It would never be real.

And now that dream had become a reality because of one pony.

That pony was unwilling to risk causing Twilight Sparkle any further harm, despite what that pony wanted for herself. That was amazing.

How does one respond to such selflessness?

In the end, there was only one possible outcome for Twilight. It was a simple one. It was also incredibly difficult.

“I… I accept your decision.”

Sunset stared at her.

“Just like that?” she asked. “But… what about… you said you felt…”

Twilight nodded. “If you think Princess Celestia is right and what we feel is simply a byproduct of a potent spell, acting on it would be foolish. And I… I respect your wishes. I don’t know the first thing about friendship. I know even less about relationships beyond that. So… I trust you… even if I don’t really want to.”

Twilight shrugged sheepishly with a little smile.

“I’m only a pony, after all.”

For a long time, Sunset just stared at her, her mouth slightly open as if she was trying to process the data presented to her and finding it completely contradictory to the known laws of the universe.

Twilight suspected her expression was somewhat similar, as that was her perspective on these events.

“You’re a good pony, Twilight Sparkle,” Sunset said in a very small voice. “A better pony than I could ever hope to be.”

“Sunset, you’re—”

“Nope,” Sunset said with a smirk. “You don’t get to finish that sentence.”

That was the first time Twilight had ever recognized Sunset’s mask. In retrospect, Sunset had used this particular communications technique many times before. She was good at changing the subject. But never once had Twilight ever really seen the mask appear. The change in her eyes, her posture, her muzzle and even her ears. The only thing that didn’t quite change all the way was what was in her eyes.

Twilight could still see pain there. But she knew from what Sunset had said… she couldn’t help.

“Are you sure…?”

“Yep!” Sunset said with a smile that would have made Minuette proud. “Believe it or not… the fact that this part of the conversation is finally behind us is making me a little giddy.” She laughed. It almost sounded genuine. “Still probably one of the most awkward conversations ever, huh?”

Twilight nodded slowly. “I guess. Most of my conversations tend to be awkward.”

Suddenly, Sunset’s eyes changed. They glittered slightly. They glittered the same way they did whenever Sunset was about to pull off something she thought was spectacular.

“I think it was the most awkward conversation I’ve had… but I can think of one more conversation you’ve had around me that was even more awkward.”

Twilight felt herself pale and scooted back a bit, adjusting her glasses. “What?”

“The night we met and your little… shall we say… fracas with a certain librarian?”

Twilight felt herself go from pale to blush in ten microseconds flat.

“I… uh…”

“She likes you, too.”

Twilight’s brain screeched to a halt.

That is completely illogical. I shoved her away in fear and foolishness. She could not like me in the manner that Sunset is suggesting! It’s ludicrous! Madness! Insanity!

Twilight shook her head.

“Ayep!” Sunset cried. “And guess what you’re doing tomorrow night?”

“Finishing my studies on chaos theory and the applications used in the Spire Project?”

“Nope! Anyway, that’s an ongoing project. The Princess never gave us a due date.”

“We’ve only just started on the prototype! And we have so much more studying to do!”

“There’s more to life than dusty old books,” Sunset said, her smirk growing wider.

“They aren’t dusty!” Twilight cried. “I keep my books…”

Sunset cocked an eyebrow at her and glanced around the room.

“Okay, fine, they’re dusty. Doesn’t matter! We have work to do!”

“Consider this your next lesson on friendship.”

“You wouldn’t…” Twilight gaped. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“I can’t think of a better example of friendship. Because I know you like her, too. There’s no use denying it.”

I thought I liked you.

Twilight kept the thought to herself. There was no reason to share it. It would only make things worse.

Then again, Sunset wasn’t—strictly speaking—wrong. The thought had occurred to her. More than once. Especially during her… estrangement from Moon Dancer.

“You’re not letting me out of this, are you?”

“Nope,” Sunset’s smirk hardened into sheer determination. “I even already talked to Moon Dancer about it—”

She suddenly stopped talking and blinked a few times. Then she smacked her face with a hoof. “Ugh, look, that came out… that came out wrong.”

Twilight stared at her, now more lost than ever.

“I… I haven’t been a very good friend. To anyone.” Sunset took a deep breath and released it in one explosive sigh. “If… listen, if you actually don’t want to do this… I’m not going to twist your hoof. I know… I know I come across strong but…”

Twilight watched as Sunset tried to gather her wits around her. The mask she had seen suddenly had cracks everywhere. Sunset rubbed her face with her hooves again and curled her tail tightly around herself, as if it were some sort of comfort or security device.

“Do you actually like her? Put aside the rest. Put aside me and my stupid little production. At least try. Honestly. I’ll stop this right now if I’m wrong. I promise. Do you?”

Twilight’s heart just about stopped as she stared into Sunset’s teal eyes. The mare Twilight thought she liked was actually asking if Twilight liked somepony else. What was wrong with the world? Had Discord, the ancient spirit of chaos, been released and she hadn’t been notified?

But Sunset looked earnest. In fact, Sunset looked almost desperate. Twilight didn’t know what she was desperate for, though. She had a few hypotheses, of course. But she couldn’t be sure.

So, in the end, Twilight fell back on the truth. At least as far as she understood it.

“I…” Twilight looked away from Sunset, unable to meet her eyes. Then she said in a very small voice, “Yes.”

Sunset breathed an enormous sigh of relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. Otherwise… I would have looked really stupid. And… you know...” She rubbed her neck. “...kinda forced you into something you didn’t want.”

“I…” Twilight blushed. “I… I’ve thought about it.”

“Before now?” Sunset asked, seeming… oddly insistent.

Twilight bit her lip and nodded.

“Then let’s make it happen!” Sunset cried, her eagerness suddenly back in force. Her smile could have rivaled Minuette’s, if not for the slightly odd look in Sunset’s eyes. “Tomorrow night!”

“So… so soon?”

“No time like the present!”

“Is... “ Twilight felt a little dizzy. “Is this really happening?”

Sunset nodded with a bit too much cheer. “This is happening, Sparky.”

“Sparky?”

“Sparky.”

“You are not calling me Sparky.”

“Pretty sure I just did, Sparky.”

“No.”

“I could go with Twily?”

“My brother calls me that. That would be… strange. Exceedingly strange.”

“Sparky it is then.”

“…you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With Moony.”

“Of course you have.”

Twilight sighed. This was all happening so fast. But in truth… she didn’t have it in her to fight too hard. Because… she had thought about it. Long before Sunset had even shown up in her life. She’d thought about that filly who used to understand her better than anypony. A relationship with her... that could be something really special.

As for Sunset, herself...

It would be a good distraction from other things. Maybe for both of us.? Maybe I’ll help her by doing this? Settle her mind? If she can help me… maybe she’ll forgive herself a little bit more.

Plus, she did say she had spoken to Moon Dancer about this. Moon Dancer obviously agreed, or this conversation never would have occured.

It was worth a shot.

Sunset grinned. Twilight tried to grin back.

“We’re going to need to work on that smile,” Sunset said. “And I think I know just the pony for the job.”

Twilight winced. “You’re… you’re going to unleash her on me?”

“Oh please,” Sunset replied with a wave of her hoof. “Don’t act all terrified. You know you like her.”

“Minuette’s just… she can be a little intense.”

“I’ll tell her to behave then.” Sunset winked at Twilight.

Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “Will she actually listen?”

“Maybe?” Sunset shrugged. “I guess you’ll find out.”

She did actually want this, right? A tiny cynical part of her wondered if she even had a choice.

Of course I have a choice. If I declined this sudden romantic evening with Moon Dancer, they would accept my decision. These are my friends. They’re not forcing me.

“Wait… what about tonight?” Twilight said, staring up at Sunset with wide eyes. “We’re scheduled for a lesson!”

“Yeah?” Sunset said, but Twilight could see the twitch in her expression.

“Are… are we still… we can’t cancel! We can’t cancel on the Princess!”

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” Sunset said with far too much ease. “I’m not going to leave you high and dry. Of course we’ll see each other tonight at our lesson. After all, we need to see if the Spire’s ready for another go.”

“Oh… o-okay.” Twilight whispered, staring down at her hooves.

“Just relax a little. And look forward to tomorrow! Some of the girls will come by to help you get ready. And speaking of getting ready, I need to make some arrangements.”

“Sunset… I…”

“Just have a good time tomorrow night, okay?” Sunset stood and headed for the door. “If you’re really worried about me… seeing you happy will make me happy. Just have a good time and let things happen naturally.”

“You’re sure?”

Sunset nodded and pulled open the door, revealing the rainy street beyond.

“Okay…” Twilight murmured.

Sunset smiled and walked back outside. Twilight watched her go… and couldn’t help but notice that Sunset didn’t bring up a shield to protect her from the rain.

Author's Notes:

At that moment, Twilight realized Sunset enjoyed watching her ramble like some crazed lunatic.

We all do... but it means something a little different here.

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