Toriel had to admit that her feelings on Grandt Journa were rather… mixed. He was a kind man, she could not deny that. Anyone who was willing to sit beside her and share in her pain was somebody she was willing to respect. And he had, of course, adjusted to the Underground far better than any of the children had before him.

But then again, that was not saying much. He was clearly going through an emotional breakdown. He was trying so hard to hide it, to act strong, but it was obvious that he could not possibly keep the act up for too much longer. Even now, cracks were starting to show in his mask. The way he had screamed at the moon only reinforced that in her mind.

But what was she to say? Should she ask him what he saw?

Toriel stole a quick glance over at Grandt. He was staring at the puzzle ahead – a simple thing consisting of a cracked floor and a pair of vents on the walls. There was a far-off look in his eyes, and one of his hands was rested against his chin . Perhaps it was simply the look of a man who wanted to break this puzzle in two. Perhaps she was simply being paranoid, and yet… And yet she could not shake the feeling that Grandt looked much more tired than he had before. She could almost still see the moonlight in his eyes. It made him seem older, somehow.

I can ask him. I should ask him. There is no reason to keep quiet.

Yes, that was right, was it not? She should ask him. Maybe it would help to get it off his mind. Maybe it would keep the moonlight out of his eyes.

Yes. Yes, that had to be right.

"Grandt–"

"I've got it!" he declared suddenly, and the moonlight went away. "I think I've figured this puzzle out!"

Toriel blinked. Wait, was he not thinking about that silhouette at all?

She had never seen him think so seriously about something before – the only time he had "solved" a puzzle alongside her, he had not stopped to really think about it all that much –, so she supposed it made sense that the stance he had just made was his way of thinking things through. Even so, did that mean he had stopped thinking about the silhouette completely? Or was he simply pretending that it did not bother him?

But if he is not thinking about it anymore, then it would be a bad idea to bring it up again. If he truly has stopped thinking about it so much, then I should not ask what he saw. Not right now, at least.

Maybe she could ask later when he did not look so excited. Yes, that would be good. There was always the option to ask later.

Grandt looked over at her, and then he pointed to the vents on the side. "Toriel, do those vents connect at all?"

Putting those thoughts aside, Toriel could not help but smirk a bit. "Well, yes," she said. "I suppose you could say that."

"Good, good!" Grandt grinned. "So then I'll climb in that vent, and then–"

"You will solve the puzzle correctly," Toriel finished, unable to keep her smirk hidden anymore.

Grandt blinked. His smile drooped a bit at the corners. "Eh? Wait, are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

"Damn."

Toriel winced slightly. She was no stranger to crude language – not at all, really –, but Grandt swore somewhat more than she would have liked. Most of the children who had fallen down had not used such language. Then again, Grandt was not a child.

Not a child at all, she thought as her eyes passed to his wrinkled and liver-spot-covered head. He was clearly very old. If Toriel had to guess, she would estimate that he was probably in his middle or late eighties, but he was probably no younger or older than that. For a man of his age to climb Mt. Ebott and to survive falling into the Underground… He must have been quite the soldier when he still served.

"And here I thought I was being clever…" Grandt pressed his hand back against his chin.

Toriel chuckled. "Well, you certainly are, Grandt. Most of the others did not realize how to solve the puzzle until they fell down."

"Fell down?" Grandt looked at the cracked floor in front of him. "So this area does collapse?"

"What, did you think it would not?"

Grandt grinned. "I thought the puzzle was just to walk to the other side of the room."

Toriel crossed her arms. "Not all of these puzzles are as… What was that phrase you used? 'Opening a ketchup bottle'?"

Something seemed to stir in his eyes. "Yeah. That's the one."

He was quiet for a moment, and then he looked back at Toriel and cracked his knuckles. "So… Guess I'll have to find another way to solve this thing, huh?"

"If you think there is another way, I welcome you to try." Toriel paused. "However, I think this puzzle shall be a good deal more difficult to 'solve' than the last one."

"There's always another way to solve problems." Grandt examined the floor. "For example… What if I were to cross this thing without falling down?"

Toriel blinked. "That area of the floor is two meters long."

"Yeah, it sure looks like it. That's… What? Six feet?" He took a few steps back, and then he fell into a runner's squat. His knees cracked audibly. "Y'know, back in high school, I was the star of the track team."

"Really?"

Grandt grinned. "Nope."

Then he took off running. He was not particularly fast, Toriel noted, but he was much faster than she had originally thought – certainly much faster than a man his age should have been. His foot hit the point where the real and fake floors met, and he suddenly jumped with a surprising amount of force behind his legs.

For a moment, Grandt seemed to be soaring over the cracked floor. His eyes were brighter than Toriel had ever seen them. It was not the moon that shone in his eyes now; it was the sun, bright and bold and reflecting his grin in such a way that the moon never could.

Then the illusion faded, and Grandt landed on the cracked floor not terribly far away from the other side. The floor began to collapse immediately, and Grandt let out a shocked cry.

Toriel winced at the sight. He had been so close, and for a moment, she had wanted to see him clear the gap. But it seemed that Grandt really was just too old to manage it.

Then she blinked. Wait…

Grandt had not fallen through at all. Yes, his body had gone through the floor, but his arms were set on the opposing ledge. His fingernails dug deep into the ground, and he was panting harshly.

But he had made it.

"It's…" He looked over at her from where he now hung and gave a weak smile. "It's a bit… a bit h-hard to keep my grip… Maybe you should look into that."

She smiled, but it felt a bit strained. This man… "Very well, Grandt. You have proven your point." She looked down. "The ground should only be a few inches below your feet. You will not be injured if you let go."

Grandt shook his head, but the action looked a bit difficult.

It wasn't about just solving some silly puzzle. Not really. If that were the case, he'd just hang on for as long as he could and then tease Toriel about it later (something like, "A man as old as me almost cleared this thing easily! What's your excuse?" Just lighthearted joking).

But this wasn't about that.

This was a test of his resolve. Of his willpower.

And of my upper body strength, he thought with a small grin as it got harder to breathe. Ugh… Should've taken Dyse up on those offers to work out together…

Then he let his smile fall, and he focused on the task at hand.

The Underground was a dangerous place. God knew there were more dangerous things in store than some damned wall. But if he couldn't climb a wall, how could he expect to deal with things like that flower

Crack.

or anything else he hadn't seen?

No, he had to climb it. He would climb it. His fingers dug deeper into the floor, his breath became quicker, his heart beat faster in his chest.

Too fast.

Grandt breathed in slowly. Then he pushed his hand forward a bit. It was just a little bit, but it was enough to make him lose his grip for a moment. His other hand slid back a bit. He gasped in pain as his nails raked against stone. They were probably all broken and cut up by now. His fingers probably looked like a mess.

It's fine. It's fine, don't worry about it. It's fine. Just keep holding on.

They dug into the stone. They dug into the snow.

Stop it. Don't think about it.

How much would they bleed if they broke? His fingernails. Or maybe his fingers. Or his arms. How much would they bleed again? Would his bones stick out again?

Stop it. Just stop. It's over. It's over!

He was breathing

too fast.

Crack.

Grandt gasped. And he lost his grip. His fingers slid back on the floor and his nails cracked as they attempted to find their grip.

But just as he was about to completely lose his grip, he stopped falling.

Because Toriel had taken his hand.

It was strange, really. Toriel did not know what had propelled her to act like that. It was not as if Grandt was in danger of injuring himself if he fell or anything like that.

But without thinking at all, she had gone through to the other side and taken his hand. There was just some part of her that did not want to see him fall. Was it just because he was a kind man? Was it because she sympathized with his situation?

No, both of those were true. She knew that both of those things were true. This, however… This was brought on by something else. Toriel could not even begin to describe it, and she was someone who had lived long enough that she knew she should have felt something similar before. It was not love or compassion or pity or hope or anything of the sort. It was something else entirely.

It was something strange.

But even with that strangeness, she had taken Grandt's hand in her own.

"Give me your other hand," she told him quietly.

Odd. She could reach it from where she was perched without any difficulty. Why did she want him to give it to her?

Grandt stared. He was silent for a few moments, and his eyes were filled with a range of emotions from disbelief to shock. "Why?"

"Why?" And Toriel chuckled. "Why, indeed? Why does anybody ever do anything?"

"Toriel–"

"Give me your other hand, Grandt."

He stared at her for a moment, and then he smiled. It brought that brightness back to his eyes – that sunniness. For just a moment, he looked like he'd become several decades younger. His head was still wrinkled and his covered with liver spots, but his overall demeanor had completely changed.

And then he lifted his hand, and he gave it to her.

And she accepted it.

Moments later, Grandt was kneeling on the floor. His oldness had returned. His breath sounded heavy and labored. The veins in his hands seemed more pronounced and redder than before. His nails were cracked, and his fingers were bleeding.

But he had made it. He was smiling, and there was no moonlight to be found in his eyes.

Then he pushed himself back to his feet. He wobbled about for a moment, as though he was not used to standing on his legs anymore. He steadied himself suddenly, and his smile went from triumphant to warm.

"Toriel… Thank you."

Again it was strange, but those were the only words she needed. Those words and the warmness and brightness in his eyes.

So she smiled back. "Of course." Then she allowed her smile to become a bit more mischievous. "But that will be the only free one I will give you."

Grandt chuckled, which then turned into coughing. "Y-yeah." He pressed a hand against his chest. "Thank God…"

"Grandt? Are you alright?"

He shook his head. "I… Just a moment, if that's okay."

"Take as much time as you need to. I am in no rush." She meant it.

"Thank you." Grandt pressed his back up against one of the walls and slid down to the floor. "Sorry about that."

"About what?"

"About… You know, about making you… about making you waste your time to help a doddering old man like me." He grinned, but his voice was still shaky. "I mean you'd… you'd probably be home by now if I wasn't here."

"Maybe," Toriel admitted, "but I do not regret it. I am having a lot of fun."

Grandt smiled and closed his eyes. "Yeah… Yeah, me too…"

His head slowly fell forward.

Toriel blinked. "Grandt?"

There was no response. Toriel almost panicked until she noticed the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Ah… I see.

She smiled a bit. Grandt's hands were torn and his nails were ripped, but he had fallen asleep with a small smile on his lips. A triumphant smile, as though what had just happened had been a major victory.

Toriel sat down beside him and let her smile grow. "You certainly are something, Major Grandt…" she said softly.

And then she recalled what that feeling from before had been. She had felt it once before. Fourteen years ago, to be exact, when that girl had fallen into the Underground. When she had pledged to bring humans and monsters together. When she had worn a smile that was as kind as Grandt's. Anyone else would have called this feeling hope, but Toriel knew they were not synonymous.

Hope required faith. It required a belief that something would happen. But this feeling was not a belief; it was a certainty. It was a certainty in the same way that Toriel knew the sun would rise in the morning, even if she could not see it.

It had been a long time since she had met a human with that much determination to do anything. It sent a shiver through her whole body, and with it came that odd not-hope. A kind of determination of her own. It was almost intoxicating. She did not even know what had brought this determination out of him, but she had no doubt that it was something he sought more strongly than anything else in the world.

She continued to watch Grandt as he slept. Should she take him back to her home, now? It would be easy to carry him back. The smaller monsters would not bother them – but then again, they would not bother them, anyway. They were too shy for it, but now she longed for them to meet with Grandt, as well. To let them share in that not-hope, that determination.

But if I bring him back, she thought as her lips curled up into a smirk, he will probably be frustrated that he could not break more puzzles. He will probably say something like, "How could you not let me prove you wrong?" or something like that.

Just lighthearted joking.

Toriel chuckled. She could wait there for just a bit longer. After all, she was starting to feel a bit tired, herself. Her eyes had begun drooping. How long had she been so exhausted? And how had she not noticed it? Maybe all that determination had gotten her a bit too excited. Little wonder that humans invoked it so rarely.

She yawned and leaned back against the wall. Yes, this would be fine. And it was not as if she could keep herself awake even if she tried, anyway.

Before she could think of anything else, Toriel felt her eyes close, and she fell into a deep, dream-filled sleep.

AN: This is another short one for two reasons: first, I've once again been struggling to find time to sit down and write (I'm honestly surprised I was able to get this out at all), and second, I can't imagine continuing this update passed the point where I chose to end it off. I wish I could've gotten Grandt and Toriel a bit further through the Ruins since this arc is taking much longer than I thought it would, but compared to Snowdin, it's actually not too bad. I can't tell if that's a good thing or not.

Probably not.

Anyway, this chapter was incredibly fun to write. I originally debated whether or not I wanted Grandt to be able to climb the wall by himself or not, but I decided to have Toriel help him up because it made for a more heartwarming scene. Not to mention that it actually makes me really excited to keep writing since I've already got a pretty good idea about how the next few chapters are going to look.

(Fun fact about this chapter: I spent the entire time writing it listening to music from NieR: Automata. Holy shit that's good soundtrack. I honestly can't recommend it enough.)

(Another fun fact about this chapter: I swear to God I don't ship Grandt with anybody.)

Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, reviewed, or even just read the story up to this point! Next time, more Ruins shenanigans will ensue. I might get through two rooms in a single update. That probably won't happen. Regardless, however, I'll see you all on Tuesday.