As the back of her head seared with scrape-your-knee, screaming tattletale pain, Blossom decided this had not been a good idea.

"What'd you do that for?" She demanded, yanking the braid from her attacker's hands.

" 'Cause." Brute sniggered, and ambled back to her friends, who were also giggling maliciously. It was a wonder to Blossom that she actually had friends; but, alas, there were two other kids in their class as vile, ill-mannered, and downright nasty as Brute. Couldn't they just have bullied each other, instead of everyone else?

Brat, seemingly following Brute's example, yanked on Berserk's ribbons, pulling one out and running away with it. Brute laughed hysterically while Berserk zipped after her, hair mussed (more than usual) and cursing profusely.

Oh, right, they did that too. She sighed hopelessly, running her hands soothingly over her own hair. She'd been unable to find her customary red ribbon that morning, and she was still a little sore about it. The professor had suggested she try a new style that day, and Bubbles gladly volunteered to braid her hair for her. The result had been one large, long, red braid that ran down her back. It was alright for the time being, she supposed, but she missed the bow. It was like a part of her identity was missing.

That, and she was almost certain it would attract the attention of bullies like the Powerpunk girls. She'd seen it enough times before. But, she'd thought she could stand up for herself it came to that.

Stupid Brute, and her stupid idea of fun-she was just a bully.

Blossom surprised herself with how much that one little prank had affected her. The pain wasn't really that bad; she'd had a lot worse. It was…the humiliation. Blossom, more so than her sisters, hated letting anyone get away with bad deeds-the difference was, she took any failure as a wound to her pride. Her sisters had the same feeling, of course, but she felt it more acutely than they knew.

So it went for the next fifteen minutes-Blossom sat in a corner of the blacktop, radiating fury and not bothering to re-braid her hair; it fell messily over her shoulders, pooling on the ground around her.

"Ya know…" Blossom whirled around to see Brute standing behind her. She sounded like she was about to make a snide comment, and Blossom wasn't going to stand for it.

"Don't. Even. Start." Her voice was dangerous. A little more dangerous than it was meant to be.

"…It looks better that way." The snide comment never came, just an awkwardly delivered insult devoid of any real spite. Wait, was that…a compliment? That at least sounded-well, if not neutral than at least not negative.

Before Blossom could say anything else, Brute was gone, and the moment was lost.