“Welp, Lav’, you can definitely claim to have the most unique sleepover,” Fuchsia said, giggling at her own joke.
“Is it really necessary to break into our school?” Lavender asked Trixie. “I doubt Blizzard will be going anywhere.”
“We already discussed this back at your home,” Fuchsia replied. “And you can’t deny that this is exciting.”
“But isn’t it a cri—”
“Will you two shut up?” Trixie grunted. “You’re distracting me!”
When her friends finally stopped talking, Trixie took a deep breath and wiggled her lockpick one more time. A click indicated that the last pin was in place and Trixie turned the lock, opening the entrance door. As she stood up, she stretched her legs from having had to kneel down for so long.
“Alright,” Trixie said. “Let’s go.”
“But this is trespassing,” Lavender replied. “I don’t want to end up—”
“If you’re too scared, just stay outside,” Trixie retorted, looking at Lavender’s face. Lavender glanced to the side, biting her lip, before she sighed in defeat.
“That’s what I thought.”
Using the flashlights from their phones, they walked through the hallways to their destination. It was a tense atmosphere, at least for Trixie, but her two friends also remained silent and moved as quietly as possible. Despite surely being alone, Trixie took a glance before passing every corner.
“How much longer?” Fuchsia asked.
Trixie looked around. “Just one more row and—”
“Boo!”
Trixie jumped up and screeched. Lavender let her phone fall to the ground as she screamed too and hid her face behind her hands.
The shock vanished as soon as Fuchsia started to laugh.
“Are you kidding me?” Trixie shouted. “Why did you do that?”
Fuchsia held her stomach, unable to stop her laughter. Trixie kept her wish to punch her in the face and watched instead how Lavender picked up her phone.
“Screen is shattered,” Lavender muttered as she swiped on the screen. “But at least it’s still working.”
Fuchsia took a deep breath, calming down her laughter, and looked at the damage done. “Just a few scratches, but I’ll buy you a new one.”
“No need, thanks, I wanted to buy a new phone anyway.”
Since Trixie was shining her light at her friends, she could see a quick smirk on Fuchsia’s face. Did Fuchsia know Lavender would reply like that? Should she call it out? Was this justice for Lavender?
“What are you looking at?” Fuchsia asked, tilting her head.
“Trixie is… um…”
“Let’s just go,” Lavender said and walked forward. “The sooner we get over this mission the better.”
Trixie nodded and was about to turn around, but the quiet sound of a footstep got her attention. “Did you hear that?”
For seconds, it was silent as everyone listened closely to their surroundings.
“You probably imagined it.” Fuchsia broke the silence.
Trixie grunted, being absolutely sure that she hadn’t hallucinated. But not wanting to cause a scene, she followed after Lavender, who was already standing before her sister’s locker.
“Alright, Trixie,” Lavender said. “Prove your claim.”
Something was off with her voice, but Trixie couldn’t tell what exactly. It almost felt… icy? But why? Wouldn’t she want to know the truth and solve this case?
Despite these questions, Trixie wordlessly went to the lock and used her lockpick.
“No ramming it?” Fuchsia asked.
“I don’t want to scare Blizzard,” Trixie replied. “And please, no talking anymore until I catch him.”
Despite the lights from her friends, lockpicking the lock took much more effort, especially since Trixie tried to undermine any noises.
She knew that Blizzard was in Cloudy’s locker; he had to be. The feeling of Lavender staring at her gave her no other option, which didn’t help with the uprising nervousness and her shaking hands.
But at last, the lock opened, and Trixie removed it from the door.
“Flashlights out. Have the container for Blizzard ready.”
As soon as it went dark, Trixie slowly opened the locker. In the almost pitch-blackness of the hallway, it took for her eyes a while to adjust to the—
“Stop giggling,” Trixie whispered to Fuchsia, holding her breath.
“Sorry, I’m too excited,” Fuchsia replied also in a whispering noise. “Do you see him?”
“Not yet.”
As Trixie waited to see anything, she groaned silently as she heard Fuchsia fidgeting with her feet. It was probably quiet enough to not scare away Blizzard, but why couldn’t Fuchsia control herself in this important moment?
Her thoughts shifted as soon as she made out yellow spots in a corner. Blizzard was just where she expected him: behind the locker’s back wall, with plenty of food in the form of masses of silverfish and comfort in the humidity of the school walls—surroundings he certainly preferred over Cloudy’s box from which he’d almost certainly escaped.
Holding her breath, she stretched out her hand and slowly pushed the wall. Luckily, the spots not only remained, but she could see more of them now. He couldn’t be in a better spot for her to catch—
Did she hear footsteps again?
“Who’s making these noises?” Trixie whispered, looking back.
“Fuchsia,” Lavender replied.
“No, not her. Someone else.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Fuchsia said, stopping her fidgeting for a short moment before continuing it.
“Neither did I,” Lavender responded.
Trixie pressed her lips together and turned back to the yellow spots. She couldn’t have imagined these steps, could she?
Whatever, she had to—
Again these noises of footsteps!
Shaking her head, Trixie ignored them and reached slowly with her free hand for the salamander. Just a few more—
The yellow spots moved out of sight.
Trixie gritted her teeth and beat in anger the locker. She was so close to clearing her name and her performance, to not get any more detention, to have this case finally solved! Why did that stupid salamander have to run away?
“Did you catch it?” Lavender asked.
The footsteps became quicker, and it clicked for Trixie.
It was time for a trick.
“Yes,” she lied, “give me the container!”
The lights from the phones went on, and Trixie mimicked putting the salamander in the container and closed it immediately.
“Finally,” Trixie said, exhaling loudly.
“Can’t believe you actually caught him,” Fuchsia commented. “Was he behind the wall?”
“He was right in the gap. I couldn’t be more lucky.”
Hearing the footsteps again, Trixie had to gather all her self-control to not look in their direction.
“Well, at least this trespassing was not a waste,” Lavender said in a monotonous voice. “Let’s just hope that Celestia won’t—”
Before Lavender could finish her sentence, hands appeared from the darkness and ripped the container out of Trixie’s hand. Her friends screamed, but Trixie, having expected it, jumped and tackled down the thief.
In the darkness, Trixie couldn’t make out who it was, but she got hold of the arms and pinned them down. “Got you!”
A kick in her stomach, and Trixie let go, bent double from the pain and having trouble breathing. The thief pushed her away.
Trixie couldn’t do anything. She had to breathe, to inhale the oxygen she so badly needed, but she couldn’t. The more seconds passed, the more she panicked. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t make any sound either. Tears filled up her eyes as a pressure built up from the inside, feeling like she might explode.
Then she gasped, and Trixie could finally breathe again. Never before had she felt such a relief as she did at this moment. She could feel her racing heartbeat in her temples, but with each inhale it calmed down.
Feeling better after a while, she sat up and looked around, trying to figure out what had happened during her recovery time.
One phone laid on the ground, its flashlight shining against the ground, and Trixie could hear a quiet sobbing nearby.
Did someone get hurt? Trixie picked up the phone from the ground and shone it in the direction of the sobbing, which revealed Lavender sitting against the wall and hiding her face in her hands.
“Are you hurt?” Trixie asked, coming nearer.
Lavender shook her head.
“Did you see who it was?”
It took a moment before Lavender nodded.
“Was it Cloudy?”
Lavender pulled her knees to herself and nodded once again.
“Perfect!” Trixie exclaimed, jumping on the spot.
“Shut up,” Lavender replied, her voice barely audible.
“What do you mean?” Trixie said. “We should be happy that this case is now solved!”
Lavender didn’t reply, remaining hunched against the wall. The more Trixie watched her, the more annoyed she got. Why wasn’t Lavender happy too? Why was she crying? Shouldn’t she be happy for Trixie that this injustice was now revealed?
“Is this because of your sister?” Trixie asked, to which Lavender still didn’t say anything.
“You know that she stole Blizzard, right?” Trixie added, raising her voice. “She ruined our performance, wasted our time with Velvet and Scribble, even planted fake evidence and ruined a previous magician’s magazine, and yet you feel sad for her?”
No reaction.
Before Trixie could say anything else, Fuchsia appeared, heavy panting.
“Sorry, Trixie,” she said, catching her breath, “I couldn’t catch her.”
“Don’t worry,” Trixie replied with a smirk. “We know who it was.”
“But she has the container with Blizzard.”
Trixie laughed. “No, Blizzard is still between the lockers. The Great and Powerful Trixie tricked Cloudy by pretending to have caught him, and she fell right into her trap and exposed herself!”
“Smart.” Fuchsia turned her gaze to Lavender. “Lav’, are you okay?”
Lavender remained silent, her face still hidden behind her hands.
“She shouldn’t be crying,” Trixie said, crossing her arms. “She should be relieved that she now knows how evil her sister is!”
Fuchsia sighed. “Trixie, don’t you remember the Haytuber street magician you showed me once?”
Trixie widened her eyes, knowing exactly where Fuchsia was going.
“And do you remember your anger when you saw a video of how he faked the spectator’s reactions? Shouldn’t you have been happy according to your own logic?”
Trixie grunted.
Fuchsia was right; she always was. How was she, despite being overly critical of others, always so understanding when she had to be? Trixie wished she could be even remotely like her, but she couldn’t—or didn’t want to. She should’ve understood Lavender, been sympathetic, but instead she got angry at her. Of course, she thought bitterly; everything had to revolve around Trixie herself.
Turning to Lavender, Trixie muttered, “I’m sorry,”
Fuchsia sighed. “Anyway, what do we do now with Blizzard? Are we still trying to catch him?”
“Not sure,” Trixie responded. “We know where he is, and it’s probably easier to tell Celestia than possibly scaring him away.”
“Makes sense,” Fuchsia said and turned to Lavender. “Come, Lav’, let’s go home.”
Lavender didn’t move, and when Fuchsia offered her a hand to help stand up, she slapped it away.
Having compared Lavender’s case with the haytuber’s, Trixie understood her now. She knew that it was a mixture of anger and disappointment, but how could she comfort her friend?
Then she remembered how Lavender loved to do it. The thought caused Trixie’s skin to crawl, but it had to be done.
Kneeling down, Trixie spread her arms and hugged Lavender. “Shh, it’s going to be okay.”
Feeling Lavender’s arm wrap around Trixie gave her the confirmation that it was the right decision, and a moment later, Fuchsia joined in.
It didn’t feel that bad.
Trixie didn’t have insomnia, she just had trouble falling asleep. It had been worse in her childhood when she couldn’t sleep until after 3 AM, so she was sure that these restless nights would resolve themselves.
Even so, tonight must just have been the one night where sleep eluded her entirely. Was this because Lavender’s room was a different one than what she used to, because she couldn’t ignore the sounds of her friends’ breathing or because her mind was occupied with imagining how Celestia would react when she found out what actually happened?
It didn’t matter, as she also had to go to the toilet now. She knew that her tiredness would vanish as soon as she stood up, but it became unbearable, so she had no choice.
Tip-toeing to the bathroom, flushing the toilet, and quietly washing her hands—every noise always felt much louder whenever it was night. At home, she’d fear to wake up her mother, and here, there were strangers.
Drying her hands on a towel, she could hear quiet footsteps followed by a door opening in the hallway.
“Trixie?” Cloudy asked, peeking through the door frame.
When Trixie and her friends had arrived back at Lavender’s house, they went straight before Cloudy’s room, but the door was locked and Cloudy didn’t reply, so this was the first time she’d seen Cloudy since they returned.
“Yes, that’s me, the Great and Powerful in person,” Trixie responded, smirking. “How did you like my empty container trick? Pretty smart, wasn’t it?”
Cloudy looked to the ground.
“Of course, your sister is greatly disappointed in you. She wasn’t even happy to find out that her dearest friend was innocent.”
“What does she see in you?” Cloudy asked, raising her head and looking Trixie in the eyes. “What makes her consider you a friend?”
“Excuse me,” Trixie said, placing her hand on the chest, “who wouldn’t want to be friends with the Great and Powerful Trixie?” Before she would accidentally look away, she went back to her foolproof method of staring at Cloudy’s forehead.
“You know, Trixie, unlike you, I actually care for my sister.”
Trixie scoffed and crossed her arms. Arguing against that statement would mean the Great and Powerful Trixie had a soft side, which wasn’t good for her magician’s persona—right?
“And when I saw how you grew to like her despite how you treat her, I had to take matters into my own hands.”
“I don’t treat her badly!” Trixie retorted.
“Oh, you don’t?” Cloudy asked, moving out from behind the doorframe. “You ignore and push her away, Trixie. She felt more like you just kept her around to use her for your performances, and you couldn’t care less about her feelings. Even when you visited her, you ran away as soon as you had what you needed.
“I thought that when I stole Blizzard, she’d see how awful you are. I would’ve placed him in Scribble’s locker, who had an alibi, and it would’ve looked like you declared him stolen and hid him in someone else’s locker to save your own stupid reputation. This way, my sister would finally stop hurting herself by being around you.”
Hearing Cloudy’s perspective, Trixie couldn’t do anything else than pressing her lips together. It all made sense to her.
Cloudy continued, “But then Blizzard escaped, and I couldn’t catch him again. Even bait didn’t help; all I managed to do was gather these pesky insects.” She shuddered mentioning them and sighed. “Anyway, it looks like I just ruined everything. Evil people never see justice. The sooner I accept it, the better.”
With these words, Cloudy returned to her room, and Trixie could hear her lock the door. In the heavy silence that followed, she tip-toed back to Lavender’s room and laid in her bed, closing her eyes.
But now she really couldn’t relax, her mind rattling and spinning and refusing to calm down, going over each word Cloudy had said to her.
One sentence in particular stuck out to her: Evil people never see justice, and she knew Cloudy meant her.
Was she evil? Was her behaviour considered evil by outsiders? It certainly was for Cloudy, seeing how far she’d gone, but did anyone else share this view?
Opening her eyes, she muttered five words that she overused intentionally:
“The Great and Powerful Trixie.”
She grunted and repeated it again.
It didn’t sound well when she whispered it, and in the quietness the flooding thoughts were close to drowning her.
She couldn’t take her restless state anymore and stood up, walking out of the room as she rubbed her temples in a circular motion, hoping that it would calm her thoughts down.
It didn’t.
“The Great and Powerful in person,” she muttered as she went down the stairs. “Pretty smart, isn’t it?”
Speaking with herself—was it weird? It certainly helped her with organising and focusing her thoughts, and no one was listening anyway. She just had to be quiet so as to not wake anyone up.
“Greatly disappointed in you,” she continued, walking in circles around the hallway. “Dearest friend being innocent.”
She stopped in her movement, visualising in her mind Cloudy standing before her.
“Care for my sister,” she said, then remembered the intonation used. “Care for my sister.”
Repeating the way Cloudy said it, she could feel the hatred Cloudy must’ve had against her. But Trixie cared for Lavender! She even told her about being on the autism spectrum, or having Asperger’s, or—
She really should look up what the differences were.
“You ignore her,” she muttered again as she went back to walking in circles.
Was it her fault? Could she blame her Asperger’s for it? Or was it her decision to put on the non-caring persona, making magic her entire identity before her classmates?
“She’d see how awful you are.”
When did her third person thing even start? When did it fully evolve into “the Great and Powerful Trixie”?
She knew why she did it.
“You couldn’t care less for her.”
Trying to belong, trying to fit in, trying to understand what was going on, “reading the room”—no matter what she tried, she couldn’t succeed. So why bother trying? Why not be the obnoxious but skillful magician and let her every interaction be through her acting persona? Everyone thought anyway that she didn’t care, so why not play into what they believe? She never knew how to talk to a group, so why not burst in with talking about herself?
“And yet you feel sad about her.”
Trixie rubbed her forehead.
“Feel sad about her.”
She could see the sun rising through the window. It was already morning, and she still hadn’t slept. Her thoughts also circled now where she’d make up for the lost sleep, what part of her daily routine she should sacrifice for it. It didn’t help that she was still self-reflecting, either.
Maybe she was on the path to becoming evil? Weren’t villains in movies all isolated?
“I like to comfort people this way.”
Trixie froze, a smile forming on her face as she remembered how she comforted Lavender in the school. An evil person wouldn’t have hugged her, an evil person wouldn’t have apologised for missing signals and, most important of all, an evil person wouldn’t have such amazing and understanding friends like she had.
She could be herself with them, she could interact with them, and they understood her the same as she understood them.
Maybe not everyone thought that Trixie cared, but her friends knew it, and that’s what really mattered—at least for now.
“Trixie,” she said quietly, raising her arms in the air, “the Great and Powerful.”
It sounded beautiful and, most importantly, not evil.
Back from the sleepover, Trixie laid down with a big sigh on her bed, staring at the blue ceiling above her. In that moment of being alone, of her surroundings being all silent, a sudden exhaustion overcame her, but not a physical one.
It was a weird feeling that she didn’t know how to describe. Usually, she got them whenever she returned from school, but it wasn’t as intense as now. Not a single thought came to her, and while she could technically react to anything happening around her, she was sure that her replies were simple parroted phrases. Sure, she had gotten no sleep last night and was yawning a lot, but she simply didn’t fall asleep—she never did in this state.
Maybe her mind was recharging? She remembered one time at a wedding party when she’d just felt mentally exhausted. For at least fifteen minutes, she barely reacted to anything and just wished to be left alone. Some guests even questioned why she wasn’t smiling, to which she gave just a fake smile before it immediately faded. But once she felt better, she could talk again with the others.
As she was staring at the ceiling, she heard her phone vibrate, signalling that she got new messages. Not in the mood to check them, she kept laying in her bed as her phone vibrated again and again. Surely Lavender and Fuchsia were writing in the group chat.
Time passed, and her phone stopped vibrating. Letting out a relieved sigh, she sat up, took from her shelf a set of locks and closed each of them. Afterwards, she took her lockpick and opened each lock one by one. The repeating process of feeling for the pins, setting them up correctly, and finally opening the lock relaxed her—strangely enough. Shouldn’t her mind be challenged as she picked the locks? Or was just one part of her mind in need for a rest?
Whatever the case was, once she was done picking each lock and not feeling exhausted anymore, she put the locks back on the shelf and reached for her phone, checking the messages she got.
There was nothing worth mentioning, as the sleepover and the breaking into school was discussed—Fuchsia even wanted to break into it again just to “see Celestia’s face when she sees us sleeping in the hallways.” Trixie could only shake her head as Fuchsia kept begging for Trixie to reply, wishing her to join in this idea.
But one message from Lavender got her attention, to which her jaw dropped. Apparently, Cloudy admitted to her parents what she had done and Celestia was already notified what had happened. Scratching her face, Trixie wondered why Cloudy did this. Was this to prove to Trixie how she wasn’t “evil”? Was this an attempt to get a lesser punishment? Or had Lavender talked to Cloudy and gotten her to admit it?
Whatever the reasons were, it meant that the case was finally closed and she wouldn’t get any more detention—as long as she remembered to watch out for the smoke detectors, of course.
Since Cloudy had admitted what she did, she had gotten the detention that Trixie would’ve got otherwise. However, Trixie’s image of performing her vanishing and reappearing trick was publically destroyed, so Trixie had to make sure that this part of her was put back in the right place.
That’s why when she found out that Blizzard was caught by the janitor, who’d even gone in on a Sunday to do it, she was enraged.
“What do you mean he’s back?” she shouted, stomping with her foot before the terrarium. “Trixie didn’t plan for this to happen yet!”
“Say what?” Rainbow asked. “Aren’t you glad he’s back?”
“No!” Trixie retorted. “He was supposed to be lured out by Fluttershy, while the Great and Powerful would tell before a crowd who actually ruined her trick!”
“Of course,” Rainbow muttered, her voice having an intonation Trixie didn’t care to decipher.
“Hm,” Trixie said, scratching her face, “we can still save Trixie’s reputation. Rainbow, put Blizzard back behind the lockers.”
“Sorry?” Rainbow sounded confused.
“You heard me correctly,” Trixie replied. “And call Fluttershy; she needs to call him back.”
“I’m not going to do that!” Rainbow retorted.
“Then Trixie has to—”
Rainbow walked in between Trixie and the terrarium. “And you especially should keep your hands off Blizzard. He had enough adventures with you!”
What adventures? All Blizzard had done was lay around and hide in dark spots; she’d hardly call that adventure. However, now was not the time to discuss these details.
“Step away!” Trixie demanded. “This is about the Great and Powerful Trixie’s repu—”
“Get out!” Rainbow yelled, pointing with her finger at the door.
“But—”
“Are you deaf? I said leave!”
Trixie squinted her eyes and stared at Rainbow’s forehead. This should intimidate her enough that Rainbow would withdraw from her position.
However, she could see from the corner of her eye how Rainbow crossed her arms and smirked. But this wouldn’t scare Trixie away, right?
Silence filled the room, as the—partially fake—eye contact was kept between them. Trixie focused on not looking away, but the longer it went on, the more difficult it became. Why were these standoffs always silent? Weren’t they more awkward this way? How could Rainbow keep her expression the same?
“Knock it off, Trixie. You won’t win against the awesome Rainbow Dash.”
Trixie grunted. How dare Rainbow use Trixie’s speech tactics? And why was there no nervousness in her voice? How didn’t she feel anxious in this moment, the fear of losing—or could Rainbow just hide it?
When the bell rang, signifying the first lesson, Trixie raised her head and turned on her heels, covering up her relief perfectly.
“And don’t even think about using him again for your tricks!” Rainbow shouted as Trixie left the room.
“No,” Fuchsia whispered to Trixie as the teacher turned to write on the blackboard.
“Please!” Trixie begged. “It’s about my, um, it’s about justice!”
“It’s not about justice,” Lavender responded.
“Okay, I admit it, it’s only partly about justice,” Trixie said. “But—”
“Do you want to get more detention?” Fuchsia added.
Trixie pressed her lips together, not knowing how to reply.
“Thought so.”
Trixie groaned silently and turned her gaze to her book before her. Sure, stealing Blizzard to hide him behind the lockers just so Trixie could announce publicly who actually ruined her performance was stupid, but…
There was no “but,” the plan was straight up stupid. Maybe she should come up with a different way to reveal who actually stole him?
It shouldn’t have surprised Trixie that, at certain times, she couldn’t read Lavender’s emotional state. Previously, she hadn’t been too bothered by it, but after learning how Lavender had felt, a certain fear of another misunderstanding had arisen.
And when Lavender didn’t immediately smile when she approached, and barely said anything over lunch, the thought of Trixie somehow treating her badly crept back up.
But how could she bring it up? If there was actually nothing, would Lavender see it as Trixie having doubts about their friendship or, worse, she might blame misreading her emotional state on Trixie’s Asperger’s?
With all these thoughts circling around her head, Trixie sighed. Why was everything so complicated and uncertain?
“Is there something wrong?” Lavender asked.
Trixie shook her head.
“Still thinking about stealing Blizzard?”
“No,” Trixie replied, looking to the side. “I was too frustrated to see how stupid that idea was.”
“But do you still want to expose my sister?”
Trixie turned her gaze to Lavender, analysing her face. With the lack of her smile, there were only subtle hints to what Lavender felt, and Trixie couldn’t interpret any of them. Was she supporting that idea? Was she criticising it?
“It’s all about what people think of my magic performances,” Trixie said carefully, examining how Lavender would react. “I don’t want anyone to think I failed a trick.”
Lavender only nodded—could she please react in any way that revealed more?
“And of course for what she did to me,” Trixie added. “Sure, she got my detention, but this doesn’t feel like enough.”
Raising her eyebrow, Lavender finally gave away some part of her emotion. “Not enough?”
“She wanted to make it look like I’d plant fake evidence just to save my performance!”
“Hm,” Lavender simply replied as she looked down to her plate.
Trixie sighed. “Look, I get it. She’s your sister, so you want to defend her by any means.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Lavender said. “She fed the doubts I had with you, she stole a living animal, she wanted to make you look awful in everyone’s eyes. She deserves every single week of detention.”
Trixie tilted her head. This reply genuinely surprised her, as Lavender was always too nice and defending anyone.
“However,” Lavender said, looking up to Trixie, “announcing her crime publicly won’t do anything except feed your ego. Everyone will hear this anyway in one way or another.”
There it was, Lavender taking the defending side. Even when it was aimed at her, Trixie liked this about Lavender.
“But then why wait?” Trixie asked. “What’s the difference between me telling it and others over the course of several days?”
“Do you wish that my sister would announce all the things you did to her?”
Trixie blinked. “But I did nothing wrong to her.”
“You punched her.”
“After she made fun of me for a whole day! And it all started because of Sunset!”
“But you still punched her,” Lavender replied, crossing her arms. “And remember why she stole Blizzard? What if she starts defending herself by telling how you treated me, how you’re a ‘bad’ friend just using me for your shows?”
“But I didn’t, and it was a misunderstanding,” Trixie said, looking to the side. She didn’t like where this was going.
“Yes, we both know that,” Lavender responded. “But will you defend yourself with why it happened, why you acted the way you do?”
Trixie widened her eyes, realising what Lavender meant. To Cloudy, her actions were justified, and Trixie didn’t want to reveal anything about herself to the public.
“So announcing her crime publicly is wrong?” Trixie asked.
“I don’t know,” Lavender replied. “But I can tell you how my sister will react, and I know you won’t be able to stand your ground without having to explain yourself.”
Trixie scratched her head, asking herself why she wouldn’t be able to stand, until she remembered what it meant and sighed. “Fine then; her getting detention is enough anyway.”
A loud bang from a tray being placed on their table emerged, making Trixie jerk in surprise.
“Remember when we broke into our school,” Fuchsia said, obviously not caring what the current topic was and sat down at their table. “We should absolutely do that again.”
“Please, no,” Lavender begged. “We barely got away with it. Celestia won’t excuse it another time!”
“That’s why it’ll be even more exciting!” Fuchsia replied. “Our only mistake was that we got caught by one security camera. If we take another route, we won’t be noticed for sure.”
Trixie rolled her eyes, weirded out by Fuchsia’s new obsession. Fuchsia even called her yesterday in the evening just to ask if Trixie was down to break into the school again, which Trixie had to deny—for now.
“But breaking in is a crime!” Lavender retorted.
“It’s only a crime if we get caught,” Fuchsia said.
“Which we will!”
“We won’t.”
“My phone!” A new voice interjected itself into their conversation.
Trixie looked at the direction of the scream to see a boy running into the cafeteria.
“Has anyone seen my phone?” he asked, panting heavily.
With the silence that followed, the boy sighed and was about to walk away, but Trixie stood up, yelling, “Stop!”
All eyes were on her. Taking a moment to get into her role, she took a firm stance.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie hasn’t seen your phone,”—she could see him roll his eyes—”but she and her equally Great and Powerful assistants shall search for who did the awful crime of stealing your phone!”
“It wasn’t stolen, I lost—”
“For know, students of Canterlot City,” Trixie continued, raising her fist in the air, “that the Detectives The Illusions will solve any crime, no matter how mysterious it is and no matter what danger shall await us!”
After she finished, one student applauded, to which several followed. Satisfied, Trixie bowed before her audience and sat back down.
“Detectives?” Lavender asked. “But we aren’t detectives.”
“Now we are,” Trixie replied with a grin. “And we make a great team for it, don’t you think?”
“Sure thing, Great and Powerful detective,” Fuchsia said. “But don’t leave the victim hanging. He’s still looking at you.”
“Oh, right.” Trixie chuckled nervously and stood up. “But you’re with me, are you?” she asked her friends.
“Count us in,” Fuchsia said, standing up too.
After a moment of consideration, Lavender smiled and nodded her head.