Chapter Text
The two worlds clashed. After a huge event, disruptive and borderline catastrophic to both dimensions, the talented ultimate students found themselves meeting the cute little cookies for the very first time. They got to know each other, and though there were many questions unanswered, it was a difficult but overall positive adjustment.
One pair found themselves rivals almost immediately.
Pastry Cookie, a very religious young cookie who felt that any being created artificially was a bad one, and K1-B0, often called Kiibo Ibadashi, a humanoid robot created in a famous lab. Their conflicting views on manmade beings led to them fighting from the moment they knew each others' identities. Things had calmed down somewhat between them since their first meeting, but they still hated each other just the same.
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Pastry Cookie brushed her lavender locks out of her face, tying them neatly up as per usual. She then tucked it into her veil and mentally readied herself for another day. Her environment had been more free since the worlds had clashed, and she honestly enjoyed the loosened restrictions. As per her newest routine, she headed to the cafeteria of Hope's Peak to get breakfast. The cookies were at first rejected by this school's staff, but the students got so used to their presence that they just became a part of school life.
But no time to reflect on recent history. Time was limited, and she was sure many others were already there. She quickly made her way to the cafeteria, picked up her meal, and found her seat. Since the cookies were only half as tall, it was decided that they would sit at a different table than the academy's students for meals. Pastry Cookie, herself, usually liked to sit at the back of the cafeteria, by her lonesome, as far away from her cookie enemy, Red Velvet Cookie, as possible. She wasn't a very social cookie, you could say.
She ate quickly, and tried to run off to pray with Reverend Mother, avoiding that Ultimate Artist girl she had been warned about. She turned a corner and almost immediately bumped into something, knocking her to the ground and hurting a lot. She looked up, and oh, look who it was. Kiibo Ibadashi, him-freaking-self. She rolled her eyes as she brought herself to stand again, tsking as she found her balance.
"Tsk tsk. If it isn't the sinful artificial being."
"If it isn't the robophobic cult cookie."
Oh, Pastry Cookie was offended at that. "Excuse me!?" she borderline yelled. "How dare you call the Order by that dastardly title!?" Her breaths became more heavy, an effect of the anger she felt burning inside of her. Still, she couldn't let it get the better of her; she was taught to channel anger in more constructive ways.
Kiibo simply sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why should I let up? After all, that's just what it is. No need to yell at me over the truth," he said, in a cold tone that conveyed contempt towards the lavender-haired cookie. Never was it so clear that there had never been any love lost between the two than at this moment. Each got more and more irate as they continued to talk, until...
"AGH! Shut UP!!"
"Make me, you little sinner!"
At his very breaking point, Kiibo swung a fist back, finally refusing to take this shit anymore. "YOU KNOW WHAT!? No! You are NOT a human being!!" he screamed, as loud as his voice box would go. "I don't have to obey the rules when it comes to you!! So why should I if you're being such a bitch!?!!" He then thrust his fist forward, and-!
*BAM!*
Pastry Cookie fell backwards, curling in on herself. Tears dotted her eyes as she glanced at the injury on her cheek. The crumbs that fell from the wound, the strawberry jam dripping out... She felt pain so bad she was unable to express it in words. She clutched her cheek, now overwhelmingly red from the damage done. She felt that it was a miracle she was even conscious...
Kiibo recoiled, looking at the wound on Pastry Cookie's cheek, the jam that had gotten on his hands. Oh, Kami-sama, he'd really screwed up now. He really didn't mean to do that much damage... "W-wait, Pastry Cookie-" he stammered, but before he could finish his sentence, she had already taken off, the tears she had been holding back now cascading freely down her face. He felt absolutely terrible...
But wait... why did he feel this way? They were supposed to be sworn enemies, so why did he feel so bad for hurting her? Either way, he couldn't help but want to cry too, a horrible aching filling his chestplate. Perhaps it was best to lock himself in his room to ride out the guilt... He needed some alone time.