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“We’re fighting because I-” she begins, then has to pause as the back of her throat is too dry. After swallowing, her mouth is still very bitter. Well, who needs it? <span class="mu-i">“They hate me because I hurt Izzy.”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“...”</span> She can’t really make out her teacher’s expression, too dark and wet for that.
She rubs her upper arm. <span class="mu-i">“I didn’t know I was going to hurt her that badly, but I shoved her, and there was bleeding. She bled.”</span>
…
<span class="mu-i">“So… you didn’t mean to hurt her?”</span>
Peppa feels a life-line in that question, but the whole crux of the dilemma is that things that she hadn’t intended to happen do so regardless.
And besides, <span class="mu-i">“Yeah… no. I wanted to hurt her a little bit. She said something that really bothered me…”</span> She thinks back on what exactly it was her cousin had said, and though it kinda fell by the wayside in the panic that ensued, what she can recall isn’t anything that would warrant assault. <span class="mu-i">“It doesn’t matter. I got angry and acted on that impulse.”</span>
“...huh.”
…
Finally, her teacher makes her stance clear: <span class="mu-i">“That’s not good.”</span>
Nearly losing her balance again, Peppa scowls at that sentiment. <span class="mu-i">“Of course it isn’t! I don’t need you to tell me that.”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“You’re right, you don’t,”</span> her teacher nods along. <span class="mu-i">”So I take it you’ve already said you’re sorry to Izzy, right?”</span>
Peppa flares her nostrils indignantly. <span class="mu-i">“I did, as soon as I could, after I got how bad I messed up.”</span>
Still nodding, her teacher taps her head. <span class="mu-i">“I see, I see. And that smart noggin of yours won’t let itself boil over like that again, right?”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“Right-”</span> Peppa wants to agree, but she can’t, not completely. <span class="mu-i">“I don’t know. If someone makes me really mad, I just wanna punt them into the sky like they’re Team Rocket.”</span>
“...” A sigh is heard from her teacher. <span class="mu-i">”When people go flying off into the sky, if they don’t have a way to stop their fall, it won’t be pretty when they hit the ground.”</span>
Despite herself, Peppa smirks wryly. <span class="mu-i">”Yeah, unless you’re tough enough the ground gets hit by you instead.”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“Yeah.”</span> Her teacher looks off to the side. <span class="mu-i">“Concepts like that, drilled into the head of every child, ‘falling down can kill you,’ ‘when people die they’re dead forever,’ ‘the supernatural is only the stuff of fairy-tales.’ The world we live in doesn’t really go by that logic. There’s been plenty of times you’ve had to settle things with violence, and you did it all at a younger age than when I learned how to fly.”</span>
Peppa blinks. Her tail, her Saiyan tail, flicks some rainwater off, only to meet some raindrops. <span class="mu-i">“...so, what? Is what I did, are you saying it was expected of me?”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“Lord, no!”</span> Her teacher vigorously shakes her head. <span class="mu-i">“It’s super disappointing. I expect much better of you!”</span>
There’s the words that Peppa had been dreading since this talk started, but strangely enough, they act as a balm of sorts. <span class="mu-i">“...thanks, Teach.”</span>
