Day rolled onto her side for the fifth time, letting out a long sigh. She was no more comfortable than before, and no more tempted by sleep, as much as she wanted to be.
With a feeble groan, she sat up in bed and rubbed at her eyes. Brie, her stuffed mouse toy, tumbled onto the floor with a soft plop. The clock beside Day's bed read 6:30, and sure enough, she could just begin to see a sliver of light peeking through the closed blinds of her window.
Day made another pitiful groan, but seeing as she wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon, decided to make the most of her early start. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, then with the silence of a child who knew they weren't supposed to be up yet, began to creep towards the bedroom door.
Poking her head into the hallway, Day was met with darkness. To her left, Sans' bedroom door was cracked open slightly, and to the right, Papyrus' was closed.
She tiptoed towards the stairs, but had to squint suddenly. Light poured out into the living room from the kitchen, bathing the area in a warm yellow.
Who else is up? she wondered, her drowsiness momentarily overcome by curiosity. Hand gliding across the rail as she walked, Day tiptoed downstairs, halting in her tracks at the slightest creak or squeal of the well-used wood.
Stopping just outside the kitchen's doorway, Day glanced over at the living room. It was filled with large boxes and various furniture items, gathered in clusters at random spots along the room. The only things that seemed somewhat in place were the television, the television stand, and the old green couch. For once Sans wasn't spread out across the cushions, snoring soundly.
Finally, Day decided to answer the question on her mind— holding her breath in order to stay absolutely silent, she slowly peered into the kitchen.
Toriel stood at one of the countertops, humming to herself while she worked on something unseen. A faint flicker of light drew Day's eyes to the stove, where a small white fire lapped gently at the edges of a skillet.
"My, aren't you up early?"
Day jumped a bit, not expecting to be caught so easily. Toriel only laughed at her reaction.
"I didn't mean to scare you," she assured, turning to her in full. She wiped her hands off on a white apron tied at her waist, which resulted in a momentary puff of white powder, "Is there something you need, dear?"
Day shook her head, "No, I was just… I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."
"Oh? Is everything alright?"
"Mm-hm," she said with a nod, "I'm just not tired."
Toriel made a little sound of amusement, "Is that so? After all the excitement of moving in? I'm impressed… you may even have more energy than Papyrus!"
Day smiled, "I don't think so."
"Well, I'm just making breakfast… would you like to help me?"
Day nodded again, "I can try."
Toriel helped her to get situated, bringing a small stool over to the counter so that Day had a boost, in order to be able to see the top.
"Please watch the pancakes for me," Toriel instructed, "When the edges are dry and you see little bubbles forming on the top, let me know. Alright?"
"Okay."
While Toriel returned to a different countertop, Day remained on resolute watch, determined not to fail. She was almost fully awakened by this point, but part of her still longed to crawl back into bed. The wafting smell of baking pancakes swirled around her, threatening to lull her into drowsiness once again.
Toriel resumed humming, the quiet notes intermingling with the steady sizzle of the batter and an occasional tink of a whisk against the bowl.
Day smiled with a steady breath, simply enjoying the peacefulness.
Then she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.
She quickly turned her eyes back to the skillet, and breathed an audible sigh of relief when she saw that it hadn't erupted into flames, quite yet.
"I think it's done," she alerted.
Toriel set down her mixing bowl, joining her at the oven.
"I would say so," she agreed, taking up a spatula she had set aside. In a single motion, she flipped the pancake over, causing a massive spike in sizzling.
"We'll let that sit a moment. For now…" Toriel trailed off, recollecting the bowl, "Would you like to try stirring?"
Sudden flashbacks of "cooking" with Undyne came to mind, but Day held her tongue. Surely Toriel wouldn't urge her to be quite so… violent.
"Okay."
Toriel set the bowl and whisk on the counter for her, then walked to the fridge to search for something.
Day did her best to stir the goopy mixture, albeit a bit slowly, as to avoid splattering it everywhere— Toriel had made it look easy.
"How have you been feeling?" Toriel asked her, "Is anything giving you trouble?"
Day knew what she meant, "Not really."
"Your sides?"
"… They're okay," she downplayed, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
"And your nose?"
There was no lying on this one, "It hurts once in a while. But only if I accidentally touch it or something."
"Hm." Toriel took a green bowl from the fridge, glancing over, "Don't worry, it will all heal with time. The bruise on your neck has finally gone away, has it not?"
Subconsciously, a hand went up to feel the area, and Day nodded silently.
"Mm-hm."
She returned her attention to her whisking, until she heard a dull chopping; Day glanced over at Toriel again and made a surprised sound.
Toriel appeared to be cutting strawberries, but the fruits themselves were almost neon pink, sporting bright purple spots where the seeds should have been.
"Are those real?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Oh—well, yes and no," Toriel replied, "They are real, but perhaps not the sort you're used to. They're magical strawberries."
The puzzled look on Day's face prompted Toriel to explain, "You see, monsters normally can't handle the same physical food that humans and animals eat. Take Sans and Papyrus, for example; they're nothing but bones! What would happen if they tried to eat something like a real strawberry?"
"It would go right through them?"
"Exactly. Magic food is much easier for monsters to absorb into their bodies."
Day vaguely remembered something that Sans had told her, "But doesn't magic come from monsters?"
"It does, yes."
"So… where does magic food come from?"
Toriel uttered a laugh, suddenly feeling very old.
"Oh, that's an ancient story," she commented, returning to the stove once more to remove the pancake from its skillet, "As far as we know, long ago when the first monsters appeared alongside humans, they weren't nearly as physical as monsters are, today. They needed to find a way to strengthen their bodies, which were almost purely magical energy. So, some of the wisest monsters were able to make… let's call them "copies" of many of the seeds that humans used to grow food. Thus, monsters grew their own "magical" versions of food that they could eat, while at the same time slowly exposing themselves to the nutrients of the earth, in order to become stronger."
She held out a hand, and Day passed the bowl of batter to her.
"It's a bit different with things like milk and eggs," Toriel continued, "Those I'd imagine were a bit harder to recreate, but someone managed it! From then on, families would pass down vials of the magical substitute, and need to replicate it with their own magic. It can be tiring, but I'd say it's well worth it."
Day just listened curiously, almost feeling like she should have been taking notes.
"You said that monsters have more physical bodies than they used to?" she questioned.
Toriel nodded, "That's right. It's said that when monsters first arrived on earth, they were nothing but clouds of magic with no clear shape to them. Over time, they became what you see now." To emphasize her point, Toriel reached over and gave Day a gentle bop on the nose.
She giggled, feeling the fluffy powder rub off onto her.
"Of course, some monsters are a bit more physical than others," Toriel went on to add, "Usually it's a family line or two—it's very rare to find, nowadays."
"Boss monsters?" Day ventured.
Toriel blinked, a bit surprised.
"Yes, that is a name for them," she confirmed, "Since their bodies are more physical, they can hold a little bit of human food— but usually it's something that their ancestors have eaten, giving their bodies time to adapt to it. For example: I've tried a few human foods here and there, but the only ones I've ever seemed to gain an affinity for are mushrooms and snails."
Day reflexively wrinkled her nose, but quickly hid the expression, deeming it rude.
"Sorry."
Toriel just laughed, "They're not as bad as they sound, dear. So long as they're prepared right… I'll have to let you try them, someday."
There's no hurry, Day silently assured.
"But from what I have heard, humans can't live solely off of monster food." Toriel flipped the half-baked pancake, "They need a much more physical diet. So, I've made sure that you have plenty of real food to choose from— and you won't have to share with anyone!"
Day couldn't help but smile, heart swelling in her chest at the simple gesture.
"Thank you, Miss Toriel."
Her hair was ruffled lovingly, "Of course, my child." Toriel stepped away from the counter, "Now, you can sit at the table if you'd like— we've all got a busy day of unpacking to do, so I'm getting the boys up bright and early."
Day stepped off the stool, only to climb into a chair at the kitchen table. Toriel had already walked off, and Day could hear the receding squeaks of the wooden stairs as they were climbed.
I wonder how easily it'll be for her to wake Sans up, she wondered off-handedly, remembering the afternoon she found him curled up on the couch and refusing to budge. Even Papyrus had barely been able to stir him— though Sans could've just as easily been messing with him.
Day laughed at the image in spite of herself, starting to feel her own drowsiness return. Figuring she would just rest her eyes a moment, she crossed her arms on the wooden table and laid her head down atop them.
She'd just sit like this for a second or two. No longer than that.
Just a second.
…
Day was sound asleep only moments after her eyes slid shut.
Thank you for taking the time to read! I'd appreciate any feedback you have- that's what keeps me writing! ^-^