Blossom hadn't tried to be the villain that day. Honest to god, she really hadn't. Buttercup was the one who'd asked for her help, and Blossom, being Blossom, had tried to oblige her.
A few days prior, she'd been in their bedroom, trying to catch Buttercup up to speed with her math.
"So," she'd said, hovering above their little pink table. "Let's try to go over this whole thing again." She tapped a pointer over a flip chart board, a simple equation written over the chart with a thick black marker. "2 and 2 when multiplied is...?"
Buttercup leaned back in her chair with a smile. "1," she answered confidently, crossing her arms smugly over her chest.
Blossom found this depressing and sighed yet again, her shoulders dropping heavily with the weight of her disappointment. "No, Buttercup. The answer is 4."
Buttercup's bewilderment only made things even worse. "What!" she cried, leaping up from her chair. "I thought you said any number multiplied by itself is 1!"
"No," Blossom replied, clearing up her confusion. "I said that any number divided by itself is one, with the exception of zero. Multiplication is entirely different."
Buttercup groaned loudly with frustration, already sounding like she wanted to give up. She threw up her hands in sheer exasperation. "Ugh! This is stupid! Why is this stuff so complicated, anyway?"
Even with this, Blossom tried to remain patient, giving her sister an even-tempered smile. Ms. Keane never gave up when her students were struggling. She always kept at it until they understood.
"It's not hard, Buttercup. You just have to remember the rules. Now, let's take a look at this using the abacus—"
Blossom turned to retrieve it, but her sister wasn't biting.
"Nope! No way! I'm done looking at abacuses!"
Blossom whirled back around, placing her hands on her hips. "But this is one of the best visual tools for learning!"
When Buttercup looked doubtful, Blossom arched an eyebrow. "Unless you happen to know a better way?"
She never actually expected her sister to oblige her, but Buttercup responded with a worrying grin. The nature of that grin made Blossom apprehensive. Maybe she never should've asked in the first place.
"As a matter of fact..." she said, taking a glance at her schoolbag sitting just underneath the table.
She disappeared underneath the table shortly afterwards, picking up her schoolbag to rummage through its contents. Once she found what she was looking for, she held the item up in triumph, all while Blossom gasped with nothing less than sheer horror.
A See 'n Solve math calculator.
Blossom's horror knew no bounds while Buttercup looked like she'd just won the lottery.
"Now we're talkin'!" she said with a grin, picking up her pencil with a renewed sense of vigor.
She set down her calculator right next to her math sheet, then got ready to punch in her first set of problems. Blossom, of course, never gave her the chance, swiping the calculator right out of her hands.
"Hey! What gives?" the Puff shouted with surprise.
Blossom retaliated, "What do you think you're doing?"
Buttercup stood up, slamming her hands down on the table. "Uh, my homework?" she replied sarcastically. "Who said you could take my calculator?"
Blossom felt she was perfectly justified, countering this question with one of her own. "Who said that you could even use a calculator in the first place?"
"I'm trying to make things a little easier on myself!"
"Well, that's called cheating and I won't allow it!"
Buttercup disagreed and scoffed at her, blatantly undermining her authority. "Oh, what do you know? You're just being a little miss bossy boots like you always are!" She circled around the table with her hand outstretched. "Now gimme back my freakin' calculator!"
As soon as she lunged for it, Blossom pulled it away, keeping it just out of her sister's reach. "Hmph!" she replied, scowling angrily at her. "Well, if I'm being bossy, then you're being lazy! This work isn't difficult; you just have to use your brain!"
Buttercup responded with sarcasm, "If I didn't use my brain, I'd be a vegetable by now, genius!" Then she turned her back and muttered even more of it under her breath. "And I here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."
Narrowing her eyes, Blossom responded in kind. "Well, if you're so clever with quips"—she tapped down on the math sheet—"why don't you apply some of that here?!"
Buttercup whirled back around in anger and clenched both her fists. "I would if you'd just gimme my freakin' calculator back!"
Why didn't her sister ever want to try?! "No, Buttercup! Put in some effort!"
"It's my calculator!"
"You can't have it!"
Buttercup made a lunge for the calculator, but Blossom was ready for her, gripping the sides of it while Buttercup claimed the top. They both fought for dominance as their shouting match intensified.
"GIVE IT BACK, BLOSSOM!" Buttercup screamed with a tug.
Blossom yanked it right back, matching her sister's volume. "YOU DON'T NEED IT! USE YOUR BRAIN, BUTTERCUP!"
The back and forth continued:
"Give it! Now! Before I pound you!"
Blossom scoffed, "That's your solution for everything!"
"Like you didn't start it! NOW HAND IT OVER!"
Their tug-of-war ended when the door to their room burst open, revealing the Professor in all his stern glory. That door had slammed open with his entrance more times than either Puff could count that week, and every time did, the man looked more and more at his wit's end.
"Girls, what is it this time?!" he demanded from both of them.
Buttercup blamed Blossom.
Blossom blamed Buttercup.
The professor got in between them and acted as a mediator. The routine was familiar to everyone by now.
Eventually, the professor offered his own services to Buttercup. He made his way kindly over to her at the table.
"Now Buttercup," he said, as she scowled at the carpet, "would you like me to help you with your homework, sweetie?"
Absolutely no one wanted help from their dad when it came to that, so even Blossom understood when Buttercup refused.
"Ew, no! I don't need any help! All I need is my freakin' calculator back!"
Blossom didn't back down from her position, firmly believing she was right, but her father actually did something surprising. The man almost never took sides when it came to these arguments, but just this once, he sided with Buttercup.
"Blossom, honey," he began, in a slightly disapproving tone, "do you really think it's your place to tell your sister how to do her own math problems?"
Buttercup grinned smugly at this. "Ha!"
This left Blossom desperately trying to explain her own side of the argument; how she was just trying to get Buttercup to grasp and understand the fundamental concepts. After all, what would happen when she didn't have a calculator? What would happen when she was asked to show her work?
The professor agreed with this—partially, at least. "Hm," he said, rubbing his chin. "I suppose that's true, too." But again, he leveled some criticism at his daughter. "But were you really helping her Blossom or were you bossing her around?"
Blossom would've answered if Buttercup hadn't interrupted her.
"Bossing me around!"
"No, I wasn't!"
They argued some more about the merits of using an abacus before the Professor had to intervene yet again to prevent things from escalating.
"Girls, please! Please just stop all this arguing! Haven't I taught you to resolve these matters peacefully with each other? Communication is key!"
Both of them harrumphed and turned away from each other. Blossom knew how to communicate just fine. It was Buttercup who'd rather act like some stubborn old mule.
The professor, however, refused to give up. He drew Buttercup in closer and smiled encouragingly at her. "Buttercup," he began, "don't you love your sister, Blossom?"
Both girls groaned at this blatant appeal to their emotions. Buttercup did eventually say yes, though, and when it came time for her turn, so did Blossom. They refused the professor's suggestion for them to hug, though. Hugging was out of the question.
"I'm sure whatever differences you have can be solved with a hug."
"Or a barf bag," Buttercup muttered.
Blossom whined, "Do we have to hug?"
And that was when the Professor got a great deal more serious. He lectured the two of them about the effect of their fighting. How the house had to suffer for it and so did poor Bubbles, with the girl having to walk around the house with noise-canceling earphones.
Once again, Blossom didn't feel like she was responsible. Maybe if Buttercup just listened, she wouldn't have to fight with her so much.
"Well, maybe if Buttercup weren't so bullheaded!"
"Well, maybe if somebody wasn't such a bossy control freak!"
Then the Professor said something that changed everything:
"Either way, I suggest you Girls try to look past your differences and be civil towards each other! Otherwise the day is going to come when one of you ends up seriously hurting the other!"
At first, the two looked doubtfully at each other.
"Yeah right, Professor!" Buttercup scoffed, dismissing the concept entirely from its outset. "We're way too tough to actually hurt one another!"
Blossom, however, gave it a good deal of thought. Sure, they were tough, but they weren't exactly invincible. And if anyone could hurt them, it would likely be each other. In fact, hadn't Buttercup even (slightly) hurt Bubbles once?
"Oh, man! Geez, I'm really sorry, Bubbles, it was an accident! I didn't mean to! It w—it's just… oh, I'm sorry! I'm really so sorry!"
Yes, that's right. She knocked out her baby tooth. Bubbles didn't suffer for it and she found a silver dollar underneath her pillow from the Tooth Fairy the next day. But the fact that Buttercup could even knock it out at all...
In the meantime, Professor gave Buttercup a warning. "Don't be so quick to dismiss it, Buttercup! It's easy for things to get carried away. Take it from a man who's been through similar scenarios in his own childhood."
That second part rang clearly through Blossom's ears. It's easy for things to get carried away.
Indeed, it was. Very easy...
She looked up from her thinking to see the Professor scooping Buttercup up in her arms. He'd managed to convince her to let him help with her homework.
"Fine!" she relented, still looking grumpy. "At least you won't be as much of a fuss bucket as Blossom!"
This last parting comment miffed Blossom just enough for her to resort to something childish; scowling at Buttercup before sticking out her tongue. Buttercup mimicked her with one added trick: she curled her tongue as she stuck it out, too. Her one "special power" that Blossom couldn't copy.
But after she did that and after the door finally closed, Blossom was left all alone with her thoughts. The Professor's words never left her brain.
"Otherwise the day is gonna come when one of you ends up seriously hurting the other!"
She kept thinking about it all throughout dinner as the family sat down at the kitchen table to have spaghetti and meatballs. She twirled her pasta idly with her fork, pondering the implications of the Professor's words ever becoming a reality.
Buttercup and Blossom never really hurt each other in their fights, either emotionally or physically. They weren't trying to hurt each other in the first place. They just had a tendency to get on each other's nerves. But maybe, she thought, that was the entire reason why the fights never stopped. Neither of them had ever taken that one step too far.
The girls as a whole had gone too far multiple times. They didn't snap out of their candy addiction until it drove them to beating Mojo to a bloody pulp, the ape so badly beaten that he nearly died from his injuries. They didn't stop using their own father to steal toys for them until the police seemingly caught him in the act one night, gunning him down mercilessly right in front of the girls. That had been a powerful experience, even with it all being a hoax in the end, manipulated specifically to make the Powerpuff Girls confess.
"So, girls, did you learn your lesson?"
"Sure did," Buttercup said.
Blossom closed her eyes solemnly, starting the lesson off. "Stealing is a crime—"
Bubbles finished, "—no matter what the circumstances."
They never did a thing like that ever again. If it worked for the Professor, then could it work for Blossom? Could she manipulate a situation similar to that one, scaring Buttercup so badly that she'd never want to start another fight with her sister again? Blossom smiled minutely. It was certainly worth a try.
Buttercup caught this expression out of the corner of her eye, her face and shirt already covered in red sauce. "What are you smiling at, red bow?" she questioned, speaking through a mouthful of her pasta hanging from her mouth.
"How much of a mess you're making," Blossom answered smugly, covering her actions smoothly. She twirled her fork into her pasta again, daintily taking a much cleaner bite. Her grin widened with superiority. "It's all in the wrist, Buttercup."
Rather than take any notes, she grunted dismissively, slurping up her noodles with even wilder abandon. "I don't remember asking for your help!"
Bubbles winced at this and cried, "What does it even matter how we eat? Can't you guys just get along for once?"
"We're just teasing, Bubbles," Blossom reassured her.
Whether or not Buttercup saw it that way didn't matter to her, though the girl surprised her by actually agreeing. The way she agreed wasn't the most pleasant, though.
"Yeah, you big baby," Buttercup stated mockingly. "Why don't you stop being a crybaby and focus on your dinner?"
Blossom shot her a glare for that, knowing that was not how she would've phrased things at all. But before she could open her mouth to scold her for it, Bubbles spoke up with a soft rebuttal of her own. She scraped her own fork along her plate with little appetite, barely having touched her own spaghetti.
"I would," she replied, with a tremor in her voice, "... if I wasn't so afraid of you guys ruining it."
The softly spoken words caught in her throat, and her eyes brimmed over with unshed tears. "I'm just so tired of all the fighting."
The depth of her sadness took both Puffs by surprise, their own eyes widening at their sister's melancholy. Had their sister really carried around this much pain?
Meanwhile, the professor reached out to console her, cradling her head into the breast of his lab coat.
"They won't fight over dinner, bunny. I won't let them, okay?" He brushed at a tear that escaped from her eye. "There's no need to cry."
"Bubbles..." Buttercup said, her voice softening considerably. "I... I didn't mean it like that. I was just..."
Blossom softened as well. "We're sorry, Bubbles,"
The professor gave them a stern look for their combined apologies. "If you're really sorry, you'll start making changes."