Sunset was a bundle of nervous energy as she sat in the school board meeting. The conference room held several tables pushed together into a rectangle. At the head sat the five members of the school board, the chairperson of which was a positively ancient woman who was currently droning on in a monotonous voice about budgets or something.

Barely paying any attention to her while sitting on the left side together with Celestia, Sunset’s eyes kept going towards Opaline Arcana who sat opposite the board members, and she couldn’t help thinking about their earlier interaction. I’m not crazy, right? What she said definitely came across like a threat. But you could also see it as just being protective of Misty. Why is she so hard to read?

Unable to make any progress in her own head, Sunset tried to pay attention to the meeting, but every time her eyes went back from Opaline to the chairperson, she inevitably met the eyes of Dapper Facade sitting next to Cadence across from her, and every time she looked, he was looking at her with that infuriatingly smug grin of his which made her skin crawl.

Faced with total boredom on the left, infuriating memories in front of her and annoyingly out of reach questions on her right, she eventually opted to keep her eyes on the notebook in front of her. Not that that helped as she began doodling little caricatures of the three people currently making her feel like she was stuck in hell. At some point, when she was adding an eye patch and a mustache to her cartoon face of Dapper Facade, Celestia glanced over from the corner of her eye, reached over in silent disapproval and turned the page in her notebook. Sunset clasped her hands together and tried to silently endure from that point on.

The old woman in charge of the board eventually slammed her little gavel down. “I believe that takes care of everything on the agenda. Now, does anyone have anything else to bring up before we adjourn?”

Please, let this suffering end, Sunset thought to herself. The meeting had gone on for over two hours at this point, and she felt like she needed to have a serious talk with Celestia about certain things.

“I have something to bring up, Madame Chairperson.” Sunset whipped her head around to see the moron stand up with a raised hand. She briefly glanced over at Cadence who was looking at him with a mix of surprise and irritation. I see I’m not the only one who gets annoyed by him.

“Yes, I don’t believe I know your name, young man,” the chairperson said.

“Dapper Facade, Crystal Prep, ma’am.”

“Very well. Go on, Mr. Facade.”

Taking a moment to straighten his tie, he said: “It is my understanding that the district’s science fund, which was previously allocated to Mr. Whitestone, the chemistry teacher at Bridlewood High until he was arrested for cooking meth in his lab, has not been redistributed and is currently just sitting there. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” the chairperson answered neutrally, “the fund has been frozen until further notice.”

“Then may I make a suggestion that we put that money to use? We could turn it into an award for Teaching Excellency, to be distributed among the high schools with the best teachers.”

“And I suppose that means you think that money should go to Crystal Prep?” At least the chairperson wasn’t taking in his boasting at face value.

He held out his hands and shrugged. “Not all of it, of course. The other high schools should receive a portion. But yes, it’s general knowledge that Crystal Prep has the most distinguished teachers in the district, so naturally the lion’s share should go towards upholding that high standard. I mean, if you look at other high schools in the district, they had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to get another foreign language teacher to meet the board’s requirements this year. Clearly, the quality of their staff has taken a bit of a dip.” He was looking straight at Sunset while making the latter part of that statement with a suppressed grin.

Sunset was gritting her teeth and gripping the edge of the table in front of her, seething. She could feel Celestia’s hand touching her back, unsure whether she was comforting her or holding her back from lunging across the table, or both.

Cadence tugged on Dapper’s sleeve to make him sit down, unable to publicly chastise one of her own teachers. “Perhaps,” she said diplomatically, “the future use of that fund would be something the board would like to put on the agenda for the next meeting.”

“I’m just saying,” Dapper went on undeterred, that same smug grin on his face, “you’d want to reward the teachers who actually get results and set a good example for their students, not the kind of faux drama teacher who gets so embarrassed by how badly their students are messing up on a dress rehearsal that they pull the fire alarm and fake a gas leak.”

That did it. Sunset’s vision went red. She maybe could have endured the veiled insults and insinuations about herself silently, but the moment he suggested that her students were somehow inept, she found herself slapping her palms on the desk in front of her and shooting to her feet. “You wanna take this outside and say all that to my face, jackass!?”

The room erupted into shocked gasps and a clearly audible facepalm next to her as the chairperson banged her little gavel vehemently to restore order. “Order! Order! I must say, young lady, I will not tolerate this kind of outburst. Your name is?”

Fuck! In addition to being angry at everything else, she was angry at herself now for rising to his bait. “Sunset Shimmer, Canterlot High, ma’am. Sorry.”

“I believe I’ve made my case,” Dapper said to the room at large.

Celestia tugged on Sunset’s sleeve and whispered in her direction: “Sunset, sit down.”

“No, wait, please,” Sunset said, her brain going into overdrive to do damage control. She was committed now, even though a part of her warned her that she was way too riled up right now, but she had to try. “I sincerely apologize, but I can’t just let what this f… first year teacher said stand. May I respond?”

The chairperson gave her a stern look, then waved her on after a moment. “Very well, I believe this is your first meeting, so I’ll let you off with a warning this time. But I expect you to comport yourself in a reasonable fashion from now on. You have been warned.”

“Thank you, Madame Chairperson,” Sunset said, feeling the tug on her sleeve stop. She pointed at her rival. “This … guy would have you believe that the money he’s talking about should be appropriated according to the credentials of the teachers. But Canterlot High has the largest student body and the smallest budget across the entire high school division. Of course we can’t afford to hire tenured professors to teach high school classes in their spare time. We’ve got teachers paying for art supplies out of their own pockets for after school activities, we’ve got alumni donating their time and resources to refurbish our bathrooms. But what’s important are the students, aren’t they? Our students deserve that money just as much as anyone’s. And with respect to Crystal Prep, CHS is a public school and could put that money to far better use. I believe the only fair way would be to apportion the funds according to student numbers. Thank you for your consideration.”

There were some approving murmurs across the room and even the chairperson looked like Sunset’s sincerity had reached her as she nodded to herself. Then the moment was broken by a sarcastic slow clap from Dapper Facade. “A pedestrian speech, coming from a pedestrian teacher who holds a grudge because she was rejected from a teaching job at Crystal Prep.”

“You’re not a better teacher than I am just because mommy and daddy bought you a degree from Cambridle, dipshit!” Sunset retorted to another round of audible gasps. That one did crack his facade as a dark look came over his face. However, the momentary satisfaction of getting her own shot off melted in the face of knowing that she herself had just taken what little goodwill she’d garnered round the back and shot it in the face. “If you were, you’d know that it’s the students that matter, not your petty ego.”

“Please,” he said, “my students are all Straight-A students. Can you say the same, Sunny-Buns?”

“My students can kick your students’ butts any day of the week in any subject!”

This time, the hand that reappeared at her sleeve did forcefully pull Sunset back down to her seat as Celestia hissed under her breath: “Sit down, Sunset.”In a nearly identical move, Cadence also wrangled her unruly subordinate into sitting back down.

The chairperson was clearly not amused either as she once again banged her gavel for order amid the general whispers and noise that the spat of the two rookies had sparked. I want to go home, Sunset thought despondently.

“May I interject something at this point?” The voice that spoke up next came from Sunset’s right.

“Yes,” the chairperson said, seeming somewhat exhausted, “the board recognizes Headmistress Opaline Arcana, Canterlot Municipal Orphanage.”

“Thank you, Madame Chairperson. Perhaps the two young teachers are somewhat consumed by the competitive fires of youth, and that is admirable if somewhat crude. But they do make one fair point. As head of an education institution, and I’m sure my colleagues in primary education will agree with me on this, we do have a vested interest in knowing which of the inner city high schools is the best. We wouldn’t want to refer our charges to an inferior school when sending them on their road towards higher education.”

“And how do you propose we make that determination?”

“The school district used to have a mechanism in place to make that determination for us, although the event has been discontinued.”

As one, Celestia and Cadence began to groan.

“You’re referring to the Friendship Games,” the old crone surmised, clearly a lot sharper than Sunset had given her credit for until now.

“Precisely. Perhaps we could put the fires in these young educators to use in a competitive setting, and tie the appropriation of these funds to whoever does best. Ms. Shimmer believes that the needs and achievements of the students should speak for themselves. Mr. Facade contends that the quality of the teachers is paramount. So if CHS wins, we distribute the fund according to student numbers. If Crystal Prep wins, we award the money according to the quality of the teaching staff.”

“Hm,” the chairperson went thoughtfully, “that does sound like a reasonable way to resolve this argument.”

Celestia stood up. “The Friendship Games have been discontinued for a reason. In my experience, they’ve often fostered an unhealthy obsession and rivalry between the schools and more importantly the students, rather than the friendly spirit of competition they were always supposed to have.”

“And,” Cadence put in, clearly wanting the Games to stay buried as much as Celestia did, “it’s always been an informal event between the two schools, judged by a panel of administrators of both sides. It doesn’t serve very well as a realistic and unbiased indicator of academic accomplishments.”

“And I remember the last Games coming with a rather hefty price tag,” the chairperson added. “Construction of single-use outdoor venues, loss of the deposit on a rental dirt bike that was destroyed, damage to CHS school property in the form of a statue.” She looked straight at Celestia while listing those points from memory, and Celestia actually seemed to sink deeper into her chair under that withering gaze as she sat back down.

“Those all sound like solvable problems to me,” Opaline pointed out. “We restrict it to events that CHS has the facilities for, as to not give any unfair advantage to either side based on their current funding, and we appoint an unbiased judge as the head of the panel. I would happily volunteer. I would be available for, let’s say,” she said, consulting her pocket calendar a little ostensibly, since it seemed she already had a date in mind, “I’d be available on the second Friday of April.”

Wait, that’s … that’s the first day of the full moon! That night will be … “That’s less than two months away,” Sunset interjected, unable to fully keep the panic out of her voice. “That seems a little short notice, don’t you think?”

“If our goal is to determine which school we refer to our outgoing class,” Opaline said, staring at Sunset with a cold and calculated gaze, “it behooves us to hold the Friendship Games before the school year is over, does it not?”

What is her game? Does she know, or is this just coincidence? “Surely both sides could use a little more time for preparation,” Sunset argued back.

“All I’m hearing,” Dapper Facade cut in with a shit-eating grin, having recovered his composure at this point, “is someone preparing their excuses in advance, Sunny-Buns. You were crowing about how your students were ready to face anything at any time just a minute ago.”

As Sunset gritted her teeth and dug her nails into the table in front of her, she saw Cadence grab the man’s sleeve and pull him to face her before giving him a dark look to cut it out. But he’d already done his damage.

“Fine,” Sunset grated between clenched teeth, Opaline momentarily forgotten and her vision going red once more. “You’re on!”

It only took until Celestia’s prolonged sigh next to her to regret that declaration.

Excited whispers could be heard around the room, all involving the return of the Friendship Games, and the chairperson consulted with the other board members briefly before calling for order with her gavel once more. “Very well, under the conditions Headmistress Opaline has laid out, I don’t see a reason to veto this outright. So let’s put it to a general vote. All in favor of reinstating the Friendship Games?”

Several hands around the room went up, led by Opaline whose argument had led many of the representatives of the primary, middle and junior high schools around the district to form a voting bloc with her. Three of the five board members raised their hands. Sunset didn’t need to look, but of course Dapper Facade had raised his hand almost immediately while still pointing that smug grin at her. Hesitantly, Sunset raised her arm while staring daggers at him as Celestia and Cadence pointedly kept their hands on the table in front of them to signify their opposition.

Looking around the room, the chairperson slammed her gavel down once. “We have a quorum. A new iteration of the Friendship Games, on a trial basis, will be held this coming April. Miss Arcana, since you already volunteered to head up the panel of judges for the event, can I count on you to coordinate the necessary preparations with the two schools?”

“Why, of course,” Opaline said magnanimously, “it’ll be my privilege.”

Celestia was fuming, both literally and figuratively, as she stood with Sunset out in a dark corner of the parking lot after the school board meeting, having lit up a cigarette the minute they had left the building. “What the hell happened in there, Sunset? The Friendship Games? Of all the childish things to …”

“Celestia!” Sunset interrupted, and that note of deadly seriousness in her voice coupled with using her first name gave Celestia pause. “There’s something you need to know. There’s more at stake here than you know. Our students might be in danger.”

Celestia gave her a penetrating look, swallowed her agitation and put out her cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“That date,” Sunset began, “second Friday of April, it’ll be the first of three nights when the portal to Equestria will be open due to the alignments of the moons.”

“What? Then why would you not say that!?”

“Say what exactly? Sorry, school board, that day doesn’t work for us because of the chances of trans-dimensional portal fuckery occurring? I did try to get them to move it.”

“You … you did, didn’t you?” Some of the ire that had been directed at Sunset dropped from Celestia. “Then why didn’t you oppose the Games as a whole?”

“You saw the turnout, my vote wouldn’t have swung it.” She looked down and away in embarrassment. “And … I did let Dapper get under my skin. But more importantly, it feels like I got blindsided by that woman. It all went according to her plan, no matter what you or I or even Cadence had to say.”

“That woman?” Celestia frowned. “You mean Opaline?”

Sunset nodded, glad that Celestia was able to keep up despite her irritation. “It all felt a little convenient, didn’t it? She brought up the Friendship Games, suggested the date, had all the answers. And the way everyone voted with her? As if she’d worked the idea with the crowd beforehand.”

Celestia put her chin between her thumb and index finger. “I’ve known some of the administrators in there for decades. None of them have ever given two figs about the Friendship Games before. You think she had all this figured out from the start? To what end?”

Sunset shook her head. “I don’t know. But I know a bullshitter when I see one, and that was some bullshit in there. Celestia, I’m afraid our students are in danger. Crystal Prep’s, too. Whatever has been going on since the school year started, it feels like it’s coming to a head.”

Celestia pulled out her silver case, almost went for another cigarette, then thought better of it and began chewing on her thumbnail instead. “I can talk to Cadence,” she said half to Sunset, half to herself. “If the portal is important in all of this, maybe we can hold the Friendship Games at Crystal Prep, keep it out of the equation? We held the last ones, so it’d be their turn to host.”

“Worth a try,” Sunset encouraged, though her statement lacked conviction. “But I’m betting Opaline is already coming up with reasons why the Games should be held at CHS, and the chairperson basically handed her carte blanche to organize everything, playing right into her hands.”

“Who is that woman, Sunset?”

Sunset shrugged helplessly. “Honestly, I dunno anything about her. I’ve only met her once before tonight. She’s on the school board. Don’t you know her?”

“Barely, and only professionally. She hasn’t been here that long.”

“How long?”

“She took over the orphanage, what was it, three years ago, maybe,” Celestia guessed.

Sunset couldn’t help but chuckle at that, feeling like she was going insane as the mystery stared her in the face and yet remained infuriatingly beyond her. “Three years. Three years, huh? It always comes back to that fucking number!” She spotted a discarded can in the parking lot and gave it a mighty kick. “FUCK!!!”

Celestia stood there for a moment, mentally catching up. “The Maretime Bay incident. You mean …”

“Yes, I mean!” Sunset yelled back. “It always comes back to that fucking day.”

“Do you think …?”

“I don’t know, okay!?” Sunset yelled, pleaded, retorted and despaired all at once as she rounded on Celestia. “I don’t have all the answers! I wish I did! You told me to keep the kids safe and get to the bottom of this, but I don’t know anything. I never did. Don’t you think if I had all the answers, I would have kept a lid on all of this? I would have never endangered my students, never allowed magic to return. If I had all the answers, even back then, I would have prevented what happened three years ago in Maretime Bay, and then Pinkie Pie wouldn’t be …” Her vision swam as she was unable to see Celestia through her own tears and unable to say that final word. Instead, she turned, sat down on the curb and buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry.”

She could feel Celestia’s presence sitting down quietly beside her, giving her time before speaking up. “I’m sorry, Sunset. I feel like I’ve made the mistake I made years ago when I told you to keep magic out of the Friendship Games all over again. Rather than facing the reality of the magic being here head on, I just shut my eyes and wished for it to go away, putting all that burden on you. I never even properly apologized, and then I went and did it again after the dress rehearsal.”

“What do we do, Celestia?” Sunset asked. Harmony knew, she could use some good Celestia advice right now. “I feel like I’m drowning in a maelstrom of craziness, and I don’t know where up or down is anymore.”

“We do what we can,” Celestia replied, “we teach. We prepare our little students as best we can, arm them with the knowledge and skills to handle whatever life will inevitably throw at them, and then we hope against hope that it won’t be as bad as we imagine it to be. And we believe in them, so that hopefully they’ll believe in themselves.”

“You want me to keep teaching them magic?”

Celestia nodded.

Sunset shook her head. “How can I make them believe in themselves and that everything will be okay if I don’t believe it myself? I've lived it, and I know that some days good vibes and positive thoughts just aren't enough.”

“Because they believe in you, and sometimes we need to keep up that mask of knowing all the answers for their sake, so they can have faith, first in us and then in themselves. And if you have trouble believing in yourself or anything else right now, that’s fine, just know that I believe in you. So believe in the me that believes in you.”

Turning her head ever so slowly to meet Celestia’s kind eyes, Sunset said: “Did you … seriously just quote Gurren Lagann at me?”

“After all the anime nights Luna has forced on me, some of it had to rub off eventually,” Celestia replied with a sheepish grin. “Search your feelings, young one, you know it to be true. I’m betting your Celestia sometimes phoned in her advice by quoting popular movies and books, too.”

In spite of everything, Sunset began to chuckle, as did Celestia herself when she put an arm around Sunset’s shoulder and drew her into a hug.

“Thanks, Celestia,” Sunset said after their giggles had subsided, “I needed that.”

Author's Note

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