The Sentiment Behind a Gift
Frisk sometimes wondered if throwing her old things away is a good thing. She'd never admit it to anyone, but she liked keeping old things rather than the new. Why this was, the little girl would never know for certain. But what she did know is that new things just got in the way of the old and kept people from reflecting on the past, from thinking about all that could have been and what could still be.
Now here she was, staring down at a new sweatshirt that had been thrown her way. It was hued purple and pink, her two favorite colors. Her older sister—Sabriye—stood in front of her expectantly, since she was the one who'd given it to her.
"Do you like it?" She asked. "I thought it complimented your eyes."
Frisk just giggled softly, touched that Sabriye had decided to be thoughtful and get her something nice. She told her thank you in sign language and put on her new sweatshirt, surprised to note that it indeed went well with her eyes.
(For she would wear that sweatshirt long after Sabriye's death, and would keeping wearing it even as she climbed Mt. Ebott and fell into the Underground one fateful day.)
Then she pulled her big sister into a hug, which she returned.