Two beams of light stare at you as you descend the stairs. They originate from two half circles above the front door and you frown at the thought of fixing them. You shift your attention to the clanking of plates and silverware informing you that lunch should be ready any minute now. You figure that the kitchen is probably full of people, monsters, and decide to go through the living room instead to reach the dining area.

The living room is dusty, you've not used it so much since the, accident. There's a skeleton juggling three ketchup bottles without hands for the purpose of entertaining a brown haired child. You rub your eyes and blink. There's a skeleton drinking from a ketchup bottle and the child is reading a book. You wonder what will happen the next time you blink but as you think that you blink twice without thinking, nothing happened. You let it go.

"Sans was it?" you address the skeleton.

"it's what everyone else is calling me, but i guess that you can too."

"Did I do something wrong?" you reply.

He runs a finger against the armrest.

"living alone in such a big house, i'm curious."

"Yeah?"

He rolls the dirt on his finger into a ball and flicks it away. He then turns to you with vacant eye sockets.

"and all this dust."

He sweeps the back of the sofa, the dust flutters down and sparkle in the midday sun.

"could only come from someone with a lot of EXP."

You don't know what he's talking about but before you can retort the child gives the skeleton a smack on his shin.

"i wasn't serious frisk, well, a little bit. just wanted to be sure."

His pupils come back.

"Sure about what?" you ask.

"you being related to an old acquaintance."

The child gives him a harder hit.

"but i guess you're good in our book. let's go, lunch smells ready."

The child follows the skeleton into the dining area. Does it really smell like it's ready? It does smell like spaghetti, but more like leftover rather than freshly made. Also, what the hell was that? Related to who? Who was this guy, telling jokes in one instance and then accusing you of something in the next? More questions for the lunch you suppose.

The long table is prepared for eight people, but the seating is more spaced out than normal. A window is opened and some grass stain its frame, Undyne's entrance. There's a warm breeze flowing in causing the tablecloth to dance where it's not being weighed down. The dining room is considerably less dustier than the living room because of that window. It's been stuck for three months and you haven't gotten around to fixing it.

There is an argument irradiating from the kitchen, something about the heat of the stove. You assume that there's an argument as you can't make out the words. Just a bunch of nyaas and nyees. Mixed among them are two deep voices talking about something. You think you also detect a faint snore. Your overworked microwave ding and the kitchen goes quiet.

"BREAD IS DONE! NOW EVERYONE, FOLLOW ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, TO THE PLACE WHERE WE WILL FEAST UPON THIS MAGNIFICENT SPAGHETTI!"

You take a seat and notice that all the utensils is ordered with the fork on the right side. You contort your face in annoyance and switch yours.

"i told her the placement was forked up."

You nearly jump out of your seat as you notice that you now have someone on your left side.

"How did you?"

"shortcut."

"But."

You're interrupted by a delighted yell.

"AH, THE HUMAN IS HERE AS WELL, AMAZING! NOW HUMAN, PREPARE YOUR TASTE BUDS FOR THE GLORY OF MY NUTRITIOUS SPAGHETTI!"

A tall skeleton carrying a large tomato stained pot strides from the kitchen with enormous glee. In big boots and length stand in stark contrast to the one sitting next to you, in fact, everything does. Armor instead of clothes. Loud instead of quiet. Scarf instead of, no scarf. The scarfs color is too close to the tomato sauce for your comfort.

"you should seriously prepare, trust me," the smaller one advises.

The pot is placed in the middle of the table and the tall one rounds the table in your direction.

"ALLOW ME, HUMAN!"

He stretches a mitten covered hand towards you.

"Please," you reply, handing him your plate.

"ALWAYS!" he says.

He shoves the teethed spoon deep down the pot with his scarf dangling mere centimeters over the sauce. A huge mess of pasta, half melted tomatoes and irregular shapes of meat arise with grace and lands with considerably less grace on your plate. His skills seems more fitted in serving the food rather than making it.

"BON APPETIT! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS BUT I READ IN YOUR COOKBOOK THAT IT'S SOMETHING HUMAN COOKS SAYS SO I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL HONOR THAT TRADITION!" he informs as his cuisine is placed in front of you.

"don't you mean bone appetit, bro?"

A slightly mellow NYEH follows the pun. You examine the food. What is this you've been given? The spaghetti is under cooked and it looks like it's just taken a dip in the water rather than being cooked in it, the tomatoes are just halves and the meat is thrown in without care. Luckily the meat looks cooked enough. You're too busy staring at the tangled food to see that the rest of the table has been seated. When you tear yourself from the food you see Undyne on your right. Alphys has taken place on the opposite side of you with the child to her right and Papyrus on her left side. On the right end of the table sits a large goat and on the other end sits a larger goat, on a sofa, they must have retrieved it from the cellar. The girdle running beneath the floor under the table is preventing any pained sounds from the floor planks. The same can not be said for the sofa and despite it bending down and lowering him a bit it fails to impact his commanding presence.

You realize that you've stalled for too long and take a bite of your food. The need to chew extra hard on the pasta noodles is not sitting well with you. Some straws are sticking through both the tomatoes and the meat, like a small skewer. You dip your bread into the sauce and taste it. Unsurprisingly and to your delight it tastes like tomato. Despite the effort you need to put into to consuming you still welcome the energy hoping that, in the end, it'll be a net positive. The sound of clanking silverware fills you with warm nostalgia. You've not experienced this in quite some time. You wonder when the best time is to address this peculiar situation and convince yourself that sooner is better than later. You clean your mouth with your napkin.

"So," you start.

"NO NEED TO THANK ME HUMAN, IT IS MY PLEASURE TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SPAGHETTI! JUST SAY THE WORD!" Papyrus replies proudly.

You swallow another bite.

"No, it's not thaackgh."

A straw decides it wants to be special and fixates itself sideways in your throat causing you to start coughing.

"choking on our words are we?" Sans says and gives you a hard pat on the back.

The straw jumps up and triggers another reflex.

"NGAAAH, how many times must I tell people to stop trying to kill the human?" Undyne says looking angrily back and forth between Papyrus and Sans. Blue energy is forming around her hand.

"Undyne please, none of that language at the table, especially not around Frisk," the large goat says smoothly but with a strong tone of authority.

"Sorry, ma'am," she complies, receding her hand and spear.

You try to clear your throat of the uncooked intruder.

"W-what if it's the concussion destroying their swallowing reflex or their entire n-nervous system? M-maybe we should bring them d-down to the lab and do a check up," Alphys stammers out.

"No, I've decided to shut that place down, we have no use for it anymore."

The voice came from the far end of the table, filling the entire room if not the entire house. The weight of it pushing Alphys down in her seat, tail in hand. You feel the weight as well and swallow instinctively. The noodle loosens up a bit.

"Asgore, I will not tolerate such harsh tones against people that just want to help," the other goat replies.

You swallow again but this time you just drag one side down and trigger yet another cough attack and interrupt Asgore before he can reply. Toriel shifts her face from stern to worry and places a hand on the back of her chair for support but you wave your hand aggressively to motion her to sit down. All eyes are now on you as you try to fight back the coughs. You take your glass and drink it all in one motion. You can feel the water rushing down your throat taking the unwieldy noodle with it. There is another round of coughs before you finally catch your breath. You breathe in. A loud burp bounces around the room and disappears into the kitchen utilizing the superior acoustic before dying down in the hallway. The eyes fixate on you harder. A giggle saves the moment. It's the first sound you've heard from the child and it reminds you of, someone.

"Oh, yeah," you say awkwardly, "Sans, could you please pass the ketchup?"

The skeleton hands you the almost empty bottle and you pour some on your food before handing it back. You manage two bites before the rest of the group continue with their respective food. You wish that the girdle was gone so you could sink into the ground.

Despite the literal hiccup you enjoy the rest of the lunch. It's nice to eat with people again and to hear the battle between metal and porcelain. For some it is quite the battle. Undyne tears into the spaghetti like she's racing to defuse a bomb at the bottom of the plate. Papyrus is similar but instead of bomb defusing he's looking to beat the record of most food on a fork. Despite the heavy fork he still got some speed. Alphys is using a more somber approach and a pair of sticks instead of cutlery, weaving the spaghetti like a master seamstress and catching the meat and tomatoes in a nest of tightly packed noodles. A screech of metal dragging against porcelain shifts your eyes to Frisk. Not bothered by the sound they shove their fork into the spaghetti and roll it twice before transporting it to the mouth. Their small cheeks bobbing up and down as they chew hard. Before they thrust again they catch something with their eye. Asgore has managed to get some tomato sauce on his beard. Not really surprising, considering the amount of it. Like a band of yellow flowers on a snowy hill his golden beard contrast with his otherwise white fur, except the red stain of course. He doesn't seem to have noticed the ginger spot on his yellow river of hair, flowing in the gust from the window. Can he even see it?

Toriel can, it appears, as she is staring directly at it. Despite her eyes being focused somewhere else she stills cuts her food into precise amounts and with almost zero movement from her upper arm, which is locked firmly against her side, she lifts the fork with three fingers and puts it into her mouth. You have to struggle to see the jaw moving as she chews. She then rolls back her shoulders, bringing her posture back to a right angle. You mimic the movement and accidentally bump the fork of your neighbor, but before you can apologize you notice that it's not used. Instead, Sans is drinking deeply from the bottle of ketchup. You push your fork down for another bite but you're greeted with a distinct clink, you're finished. You look around and see that it seems to be norm rather than the exception.

The table is more danced off rather than cleaned off as Papyrus scurries along the table, picking up glasses, plates, forks and knifes with the skill and balance of a ballerina.

"Dessert anyone?" Toriel asks.

The table explodes with glee, including you.

"Very well then."

"Allow me Toriel," Asgore insists.

He stands up from his felted throne.

"I brought some Golden Flower tea, mind if I use your teakettle?" he asks you.

"Sure, but its an old cast iron pot and it will scratch the electric stove. You can use the fire stove, there should be some firewood next to it."

"Then I will use the fire stove, thank you."

He needs to duck down to enter the kitchen.

"Papyrus, join the others, let's do the dishes after," he says to the skeleton.

"AS THE KING COMMANDS I SHALL OBEY AS THE ROYAL GUARD I AM!" Papyrus exclaims, leaving the half finished dishes in the sink.

"Um, Asgore? I'm not sure if I have any matches unfortunately," you shout into the kitchen and waking the skeleton next to you in the process.

"That will not be a problem," Asgore answers back. You hear him snapping his fingers and the sound of a small roaring fire emerges, it is soon followed by the crackling of burning bark.

"Now that we have some peace and quiet, why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?" Toriel asks quietly, almost as she doesn't want Asgore to hear.

"Well, my name is."

You're interrupted by a blue scaly hand covering your mouth, it smells like tomato and lotion.

"That's not fair Toriel! We should wait until Asgore comes back. It would just be annoying for the human to repeat themselves when he returns."

"I suppose you're right Undyne, I apologize if I'm being annoying."

Her apology seems sincere enough. Undyne removes her hand and gives you a smile, considering the food you've just eaten they're surprisingly clean. She then returns to her discussion with Alphys.

"But why would he replace his sword with such a smaller one? It doesn't fit his reach, with the previous one he could utilize a more defensive stance without sacrificing too much radius of his swing."

"Y-yes that is true, I think, but the new one has a greater capacity for his spirit power. He can use more spirit attacks with it."

"NGAAH, I got the best of both worlds right here," Undyne boasts while forming a thick spear.

The table is taken back by the sound of your teapot, a clean C sharp tone.

"Tea's ready!" Asgore shouts from the kitchen causing the glass cabinet behind you to shake.

"The pie is in the refrigerator, Asgore," Toriel shouts back.

You hear a fair amount of opening and closing of cupboards before you see a cape backing into the dining room. In his left hand is the steaming teakettle that's filling the room with a sweet and sour aroma. His right hands is filled up by two cups and a heightened serving platter with a glass container covering a brown circular pie. The remaining six cups are dangling from their rings, on his horns.

"Why didn't you ask me to come help you?" Toriel asks after a deep sigh.

"I wanted you to sit back and relax for a while," Asgore retorts while setting down the platter and kettle on the table.

"Well it didn't work, now I'm afraid that you'll drop them all and cause more work for all of us."

Asgore bends down, tilting his head to one side slowly so that the cups on his left horns fall gently into Frisk's hands. Frisk then sends them down the table. Asgore turns his head and unloads his other horn. He then sits down and hands Frisk a cup while keeping the last for himself. Toriel fails to hide a smile but Asgore is too busy easing himself into the now concave sofa. He addresses the table.

"Since the last day has been pretty crazy I say we continue with that theme and let the host have the first slice," he says and extends a hand towards you, smiling.

"So this new chapter of yours is braking tradition?" Toriel replies, still trying to hide her smirk from before.

"It would seem so."

He lifts the pie towards you setting it down in front of Sans. It stops there since Sans is asleep. You stretch yourself, grab it and set it down between you and Undyne.

"I got it," she says. She lifts the glass cover and hovers a finger above the crust. Two fins of blue energy materialize and she cuts the cake with them. She then turns her finger to the side, lifts up the piece and transports it to your plate. You thank her and turn to get the tea. She helps herself help herself to a slice and passes the platter to Toriel while you pour tea into your and Undyne's cup. You then bring the kettle into Toriel's reach. The platter is now at Alphys and she seems to have a bit of a problem getting through the pie with her knife. Undyne offers her help again. A long, thin spear appears around her long and first finger and, with pinpoint accuracy, she lowers it upon the cake, slicing it without hustle.

"T-thank you Undyne, you're the best," Alphys stammers out.

"Of course I am," Undyne replies with a huge smile.

The platter goes through Frisk, Papyrus and lastly to Asgore. He glances at Sans before dividing what's left into two and handing one over to Sans. As he finishes pouring his tea he lifts his cup up. Everyone still awake mimics.

"As this is a human house we will practice our new chapter and embrace a new tradition, a human tradition. The toast. Cheers to you Papyrus, thank you for doing your duty in bringing me Frisk."

Papyrus blushes. How even?

"Cheers to you, Alphys, thank you for your hard work in keeping the CORE up and running."

She also blushes.

"Cheers to you Undyne, thank you for your continuing work as my Royal Guard."

More red cheeks.

"Cheers to you Sans, for, eh, hm," Asgore stops to think.

"FOR BEING THE BESTEST BROTHER ONE COULD HAVE!" Papyrus proposes.

"For being the bestest brother one could have," Asgore repeats.

Sans lifts his glass but keeps his eyes closed.

"Cheers to you Toriel, for, understanding."

"Not yet Asgore, sorry," she says while looking away from him.

"Then, cheers to you understanding, in the future."

"I wish Asgore, I really do."

Her eyes meets his.

"And to finish off with a double."

"Cheers to you humans, for giving us monsters back our hopes," he finishes with his tone back up.

"Cheers," you reply and savor the exotic tea.

The rest of the table follows, including Sans. A dance of sweet and sour engulfs your tongue as it touches the first drop. They alter strengths as the liquid rolls deeper, sweet taking the lead for the first half and sour leading for the second. As the water disappears into your throat they take a bow and return to their respective corners of your tongue. You breathe a small stream of steam from your nose. You pray that the pie is as good as the tea and cut of a corner.

It's quite chewy. A clashing battle between salt and sweetness commences, juxtaposing the calm dance of the tea. As you chew you feel a cold piece, the center of the salt. The pie must have been in the freezer for a while. The cold also clashes with the warmth from the tea leaving your mouth with a pleasing lukewarm temperature. The monsters sure do like their opposing forces. You realize that it's not just their cooking, it's their relationships as well. Papyrus and Sans, blue and red, tall and short. Alphys and Undyne, well, with the amount of times Alphys appears to be blushing they could also be red and blue. If not that then their personalities do strike you as being on opposing sides of the spectrum and anime being the place where left and right become center. You ponder as to how Asgore and Toriel fits into your hypothesis but can't for the life of you find a strong base argument like the other pairs. Perhaps it could be as simple as their cooking. You go with that for now.

You feel like you deserve an award for that genius theory and greedily push your knife into your dessert. Something obstructs your path to another, literal, mouthwatering experience. You put more weight into the blade and it budges through. It also releases a surprising sound, a crack. Perplexed you stick your fork in and turn the now exposed side to you. Your tongue twist in utter confusion, your stomach is quickly informed and rumbles at the thought of processing that which you've seen.

"A snail?" you say out loud.

Too loud.