The savory smell of hot stew permeates through Home, teasing Sans out of slumber on the stuffed easy chair he's been crashing on since Toriel brought him here with a badly injured Frisk in tow. He eases one eye open, then the other, then slides off the easy chair and shuffles into the kitchen, where Toriel stirs a wooden spoon in a large pot.
"Oh! Good morning, Sans," she says, turning a smile at him. "I hope I did not wake you."
He yawns, making sure to cover his mouth with one hand. Before coming here, he wouldn't have bothered. "Nah, you're fine," he replies, then winks. "So, I take it that's breakfast?"
"Indeed it is. I hope you enjoy snail stew."
"It snails pretty good, at least."
She chortles. "If it is not to your taste, I am sure you will love it in no slime."
He snickers back and leans on the wall. Normally he hates mornings, but there's nothing like a good joke swap to wake a skeleton up. "Hey, I've had plenty of snail these past two weeks. I shellcome it now."
Her chortles turn into guffaws. When she calms, with a merry smile and a twinkle in her eyes, she says, "Well, that is enough of that for now. I must say, it has been a true delight to have you here, Sans."
"Aw, thanks, Tori. And thanks for letting me stay."
"But of course! I know you do not live very far away, but..." Her smile fades and she glances towards the doorway. "Well, with the door to the Ruins broken, I feel somewhat... vulnerable. I do not know what I would do if anything happened to Frisk while I were out on errands." She looks back at him and her smile revives. "I know that Papyrus has agreed to keep anyone from wandering near, but it still reassures me, knowing that you are here personally to watch over them."
"Heh. It's the least I could do, and I got experience keeping an eye out for humans."
His perpetual smile dims a bit as he digs his hands in his pockets. Thanks to Toriel's healing magic, Frisk's recovered a lot since then, but... well, it was a pretty close thing. Scary, what running around soulless will do to a body. The effort of less than a day cost at least two weeks of recovery, even with magic.
"Man, though," he adds. "I know I said this before, but it sure was lucky that you came by when you did."
"Indeed. I shudder to think what might have happened had I come any later. They were in such poor shape... My goodness, but it was a shock to see them again. It is a good thing that you decided to investigate the broken door." She breathes out a sigh, then gives him a soft smile. "An even better thing that the one who discovered it was the one monster who promised to protect that child."
"Yeah," he replies, remembering the excuse he handed her for why he'd been in the Ruins in the first place. It wasn't even a lie, technically; the door to the Ruins really had been forced open. Their first face-to-face run-in had been a close thing, too, until he and Toriel had recognized each other's voices. "Well, at least they're doing better now. It's been good seeing them start to run around again these past couple days."
"Indeed it has." She spoons some of the snail stew into a small dish and taste-tests it, then nods and sets the spoon back in the pot. "Though, I have not seen the little flower that alerted me to what had happened since then... I still wish I could have thanked them when I had the chance."
Sans vividly remembers the warm surprise on Frisk's face when they'd heard a "little flower" had told her they'd fallen down and needed help, just before they passed out in Toriel's arms: a not exactly factual summary of events, even if it was a call for help on their behalf all the same. He also remembers what Alphys told him about Flowey's true identity... and how that connects to Frisk's passenger. All considered, although someone ought to tell Toriel, it's not really his place to bring her up to speed.
"Well," he says, "they've gotta be around somewhere. If I happen to spot 'em, I'll tell 'em you were thinking about 'em."
She smiles at him again. "Thank you, Sans. You are always so sweet."
"Nahhh," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his skull and grinning a little harder.
"But you are!" she insists, stirring the stew again. "It was you who pointed out that I was not calling Frisk by name and wondered if I knew their name at all." Her smile turns rueful and more than a little melancholy. "It was quite thoughtful of you... and thoughtless of me. I wonder if that child would have said a thing had you not."
He rubs his skull some more and decides not to contradict this point too. She'd probably just insist harder, and it'd get awkward fast.
She takes another sip of the stew, nods firmly, and extinguishes the magical flames under the pot. "Breakfast is ready," she informs him. "I will handle setting places for all of us, so could you kindly do one thing for me, Sans?"
"What's up?"
A sparkle returns to her eyes. "Please, could you escar-go wake Frisk?"
He snickers. "I dunno - I'm feelin' kinda sluggish." He winks, turns for the doorway, and adds, "Just chitin!"
Her uproarious laughter follows him out of the kitchen, bolstering his mood immensely. Yes. Snailed it. He could take a shortcut to the bedroom, but eh, he actually feels like going the long way for once. Granted, the long way is a whole twenty seconds longer of a trip, but it's the thought that counts.
Once he reaches the kid's door, he knocks. There's no response. He knocks again louder. "Hey, Frisk?" he calls. "Breakfast's ready. Up and at 'em."
Still no response. Maybe they're just sleeping in, or maybe... Well, it can't hurt to take a peek inside. Just in case.
The door isn't locked; none of them are in this place. He eases inside and heads over to the kid's bedside. The blankets are bunched up, but Sans knows this trick. He pulls them up, preparing himself to see toys or old clothes in a vaguely human-shaped lump underneath.
So he's actually kind of surprised to see the kid, curled up. They tilt their head back, one eye peering up at him from under their hair.
"Mornin', kiddo," Sans says.
"Ah, my old nemesis: the linear progression of time. We meet again." And then they pull the covers away from Sans and yank them back over their head.
Sans laughs and tucks his hands in his pockets. "Sorry, bucko, but if you're awake enough to crack a joke, you're awake enough to crack your eyelids. C'mon. Toriel's ladling out breakfast as we speak. Don't wanna miss out on that snail stew, do ya?"
They grumble and groan and gripe, but soon enough, they slither out from under the sheets and flow onto the floor. Sans takes a step back to allow them room.
"Haven't seen you in a while," he remarks as they take a moment to just lie there. "Sup, Chara?"
They eye him from their spot on the floor. "How do you always just know?"
"Frisk isn't nearly that witty in the morning. Or that cranky. They okay?"
"Yeah... Hold on. I'll wake them up." They sit up to lean on the bed and loll their head back, eyes shut. A moment later, the human stirs again, yawning and blinking blearily. Those blinks soon turn into a squinty stare around their spot on the floor, though given that they don't look confused long, Chara probably brings them up to speed from the inside, as it were.
"Mornin', Frisk," Sans says. "Hope you're hungry for snail stew."
They yawn again and nod, then wobble upright. Sans watches them closely in case they fall over, but it turns out he doesn't need to worry; they balance themselves on the edge of the bed and stand.
"So, something up with Chara?" he murmurs to them.
Frisk nods, rubbing their eyes.
"Should I ask?"
They tilt their head, probably to inquire within. "They're worried about the Player," they explain, voice low. "We haven't seen her in a while."
"Mmm. Guess the flush of victory finally wore off, huh."
"We haven't seen Flowey in a while, either."
"Ah."
Frisk pauses, then smiles a little. "They said, 'Don't make that noise like it explains everything.'"
Sans chuckles. "Don't say stuff that explains everything, then."
Frisk tilts their head and gives him an inquisitive look. Speaking for themselves now, then. Sans pauses.
"Something eating you, kid?"
"Have you seen...?"
They don't finish the question, but that's enough for him to reasonably guess the rest. "The Player or Flowey?" When they nod, he continues, "Nope. But I don't get the sense that either of them like me much, so I doubt they'd show up in front of me."
Frisk considers this, then breaks into a snicker fit. "Chara says, 'Oh, so you're like one of those scented anti-mosquito torches.'"
"Those what now?"
Frisk tilts their head. "...Oh. Maybe that's a human thing?"
He shrugs. "Maybe. If you're right, though, then sticking around me might keep you safer."
Frisk giggles again.
"What now?"
"They said, 'Oh no, an excuse to hang around Sans more. How awful. Whatever shall we do.'"
Sans laughs and tousles their hair. Frisk grins and leans into the touch.
"Glad to hear you're in a better mood, kiddos," he says. "Now c'mon. Toriel's probably wondering where the heck we are by now."
Frisk brightens and nods, and together they shuffle out of the room and towards the dining room.
After breakfast, Frisk helps Toriel clear the table and clean the dishes. Rubbing drying towels on the wet dishes in expanding circles is soothing, and the kitchen is nice and warm and they feel safe around Toriel. It's funny to think that they do, considering she's attacked them multiple times over the course of their resets, but so has almost every monster they've ever encountered. When they think about it, many of them didn't mean to hurt them. They were just overenthusiastic, or didn't understand that they weren't a monster too, or thought they were helping. Even the ones who did try to hurt them ended up leaving them peacefully.
And the more they think about that, the more the Underground feels like home to them, and the monsters like an enormous extended family. One of the best parts is that all the monsters seem to know without being told, maybe because there's lots of them like that too, that they're neither a girl nor a boy - something adult humans consistently had immense troubles with.
Not that they think anyone meant any harm by it. But... it was just so tiring, telling people that no, they aren't a boy, and no, they aren't a girl either, and then struggling to find the words to explain when this inevitably met with confusion. When they eventually realized none of the adults were taking them seriously anyway, they stopped trying to explain it and started letting people assume what they wanted. It's always been easier that way.
Ahh, adventures in misgendering. My favorite, Chara remarks dryly.
You had a lot of problems with that too, huh? Frisk wonders.
Mmhmm. When I was in second grade, I told everyone I was non-binary. My parents claimed I was making stuff up because I'd read too many books. Naturally, everyone listened to them and not to me. I got so fed up with it that one day at school, when this kid was making fun of me for it, I snapped and stabbed him.
Seriously?!
...with a pencil.
Geez! Don't scare me like that, Chara!
Heh heh heh. He really shouldn't have tried to start something with me when I was at the pencil sharpener, but at least I got my point across.
Oh my god, Chara. They pause. That's awful, though. That you got made fun of, I mean. At least most other kids believed me when I told them. Even they didn't believe you...?
Who knows? If anybody did, they never bothered to defend me, so they can go to hell for all I care.
I'm sorry...
Huh? What for?
If I'd been there... I don't know if I would've defended you either. I think I would've been too scared to, if nobody else believed me.
Well, that's... That's you, Frisk. You're the same as me. That doesn't count. You have to protect yourself.
You don't think there were other kids who were like us, too?
Chara pauses, and Frisk can feel their surprise; it looks like they hadn't. I... Then, palpably setting that thought aside, they continue with a certain manic black-humor cheer, A-anyway, it was pretty satisfying. My reward was a day's suspension from school and an hour's beatings at home, but nobody at school messed with me after that.
Frisk lets it go to consider this. ...Did anybody talk to you after that?
Nope! But that was just fine by me. I hated them all, anyway.
...I'm sorry you had to go through that, Chara.
Thanks. I'm sorry you had to put up with all those dumb adults, Frisk.
They smile a little. There's some better adults now, at least. Frisk glances up at Toriel to punctuate the thought, and she notices and smiles down at them. They return it, then hand her their now-dry plate and lean into her dress.
"Are you tired, my child? That was not too much activity for you, was it?" she wonders, setting the last dish in the pantry.
They shake their head, then raise their arms. Though they express no explicit desire, she kneels down and picks them up, supporting their legs with one arm and cradling their back with the other. They lean into her and shut their eyes. Yes. This is exactly why they feel safe around her. Given the soft powder blue of Chara's calm, they imagine they agree.
She carries them to the easy chair and sits with them in her lap. When she offers to read with them, they nod their agreement, and she asks Sans, still leaning back on his chair at the table, to pick a book for them all to enjoy. It's an implicit invitation to join them, one neither Frisk nor Chara mind, and he pulls his chair over and saunters over to the bookcase.
Toriel and Sans end up taking turns reading a book on geology (Now that's a rock fact! Chara says, then cackles for some reason), and Frisk contentedly listens to them both. They wish, not for the first time, that Chara had managed to bring Alphys's copy of Night on the Galactic Railroad with them when they'd come to the Ruins, but they know Chara had bigger concerns that night. At least they brought them up to speed on that story on the secret of the resets, after guiltily confessing that they'd told more to Sans while Frisk weren't around. They look forward to when they all get a good chance to hear the end.
After reading and learning, the three of them head out together to do some errands. Toriel almost doesn't let them come along, since they haven't been out on a long walk since they returned to the Ruins, but Sans takes their side and she relents. She seems happy about it, too. Frisk wonders if she actually wanted the company. Chara suspects that's the case.
First, they take Toriel's daily trip to Chara's grave (though at no point does she ever or has she ever told them that's what it is) to check for any fallen humans and tend to the flower patch, which seems curiously sunken. Chara's feelings as they watch her through Frisk's eyes are indescribable. While they wait, they search for, gather up, and pocket the shattered remains of Chara's knife.
"Frisk?" Toriel calls, approaching them. "What is it you have there?"
"Oh -" they utter, looking up at her and Sans. "Um, here."
Her expression changes when she sees the fragments of the worn dagger; Frisk thinks it's not unlike when they stabbed her the last timeline. "Oh..." Her eyes rest on the locket hanging around their neck, and she forces a smile as she glances away briefly. "D-did this happen when you were injured, my child?"
They nod. It's true enough.
"That must have been such a traumatizing experience... I only wish that I had arrived sooner, so I could have prevented it in the first place."
"No, it's okay," they insist quietly.
"Yeah. You saved their life, Tori," Sans pipes up, strolling over to join them. "That's more than enough."
Her smile turns sincere, if rueful. "Thank you, Sans."
"Um... Mom?"
"Y-yes, Frisk?"
They hesitate, listening to the words within their SOUL. Then they hold out the pieces of the dagger to her. "Could you... would you be able to fix this for me with your fire magic?"
"Fix it?" she echoes, startled.
"Right. But not into a knife. Into... into something different."
"...What did you have in mind?"
They listen, then repeat, "A trowel, or a spade, if that's okay. Something good for gardening."
Tears dampen the corners of her eyes, and she furtively brushes them away. "I... I was not aware you had such an interest, Frisk."
They look over at the tiny garden, which - yes, has definitely sunken for some reason. "Someone has to take care of the flowers."
"I... Yes, this is true." Her smile turns tender and affectionate, and she holds out her paws. "I am no blacksmith, but I will see what I can do, my child."
Their eyes flicker, but their smile doesn't abate. When they hand over the fragments of the blade, it's Chara in control, and remains that way when they step forward to bury themselves in a hug with her.
Now's your chance, Frisk encourages as Toriel returns the gesture. You should tell her you're here, Chara.
Chara lets their eyes flutter shut. Not... not yet. I want things to stay peaceful, just a little while longer.
And so when they pull away, Frisk is once again in control. They understand being afraid of rejection.
After that, they all head to the settlement at the square past the right-branching path just before returning Home. Frisk had seen the many buildings in the Ruins beyond the ledge where they'd found the toy knife, but hadn't ever explored the city beyond, and Toriel takes them by the hand as they all descend into it. She fusses over them a bit while Sans cracks jokes, and though it's no longer necessary, Frisk likes it all the same.
It's a little funny. When first they'd come, they couldn't leave fast enough because they didn't feel like they deserved her. Now that they've had to stay for a while, they feel like they could stay forever after all. But... in the end, they know they have to leave.
There are still things they need to do.
When they return, Frisk joins Toriel in the kitchen to help her with baking. Sans does too, but mostly just to watch, chat, and hang out. They'd requested butterscotch-cinnamon pie for lunch while they were picking up groceries, and since it's their first day out, Toriel had agreed.
Once they've finished rolling out the pie crust dough together and Toriel is pinching it into a pie pan, Frisk takes a deep breath. "Mom?"
"Yes, my child?"
"I'm a lot better now."
Her hand stills for a second. When she resumes, she replies, "Yes. And I am glad for it."
"I'm pretty much all better."
She sighs a little, smiling wistfully. "And you have things that you must do, yes?"
They nod.
"I admit, I had hoped our conversation earlier meant you wished to stay at least a while longer, but... we have, after all, had this discussion before." She sets down the pan and kneels down in front of them. "May I at least question the wisdom of what you intend to do? You were hurt very badly, my child. Surely you must be afraid."
They nod again. It doesn't change their mind.
"...And there is no need to remain confined to the Ruins," she adds, watching them. "Sans and Papyrus will look over you as well now, as they have been. And I understand you have other friends in the Underground as well."
They nod once more. That just fuels their resolve.
She scrutinizes their face, then bows her head. "I see you will not be deterred. Very well. I will not stop you this time. But... may I ask when you intend to leave?"
"Whenever you're ready."
She chuckles, wistful. "I am afraid I may never be ready."
They reach out for her sleeve and grip it between two fingers. The look she gives them is at first nonplussed, then, when they tug on her gently, startled.
"I... Frisk, do you wish for me to come with you?"
They nod, firmly.
She hesitates.
"Why not?" Sans remarks then. "You're just gonna sit here and worry if you don't, Tori. Least this way you can keep an eye on 'em yourself."
Frisk nods enthusiastically.
Toriel smiles. "That is true... Oh, but -" She presses a hand to her mouth in concern. "What if another human child falls down?"
"Me and Papyrus can keep an eye out for you. It shouldn't be hard if we take turns."
Frisk looks over their shoulder at Sans with raised eyebrows; they're a little surprised he would offer. He catches their look and shrugs.
"Trust me, my brother would go nuts over the chance to make a new human friend. He's wild about you, after all."
They grin and duck their head, somewhere between pleased and embarrassed.
"That is reassuring," Toriel admits, chuckling a bit. "All right. Please let me think about it while I forge you a trowel tonight. I will inform you of my decision by tomorrow morning."
They squeeze her hand and smile. That's fine. There's still something left for them to do here in the Ruins, anyway.
She squeezes their hand back and stands up. "Well then, this pie will not bake itself! I am sure you do not want to wait overlong for your slice, either. Shall we resume?"
Their smile becomes a grin, and they hop over to the fridge to get the ingredients for the filling. As they fill their arms and pass the milk, eggs, and so on onto the counter, something else comes into view, and they pause - for Chara's interest has been piqued.
"Is that a chocolate bar?" they ask.
"It is, my child, but if you eat a snack now, you will ruin your appetite for pie," Toriel chides them gently.
"May I have it for later, then?"
She pauses again, and they meet each other's eyes across the kitchen. For a moment, Frisk wonders if she's realized the truth; then she lowers her head, one hand on her chest.
"Yes... Yes, I suppose there is no good in leaving it forever in the fridge," she murmurs. "You may have it, so long as you do indeed leave it for later."
"Thank you!" They pluck the bar up with a smile and tuck it into their pocket. Chocolate! Just like I promised, Chara! It's all yours tonight, okay? they declare as they shut the fridge and rejoin Toriel. However, they get no response. ...Chara?
Oh - sorry. A teardrop blue of faint sadness tinges their companion's thoughts, but it soon warms into affectionate gratitude's goldenrod. Thanks, Frisk. You're the best.
You're welcome, they reply, and decide to leave it at that. It doesn't take much imagination to figure out what that was about, after all.
Leaves crunch and crinkle underfoot as Frisk circles the dead tree in front of Home. "Flowey? Flowey..." they call, a plate with a fork and a slice of pie in hand. "Flooowweeeyyy..."
Chara makes no remark, but Frisk can feel their low-key nervous anticipation like a plucked bass chord. When no one heeds their call, they sigh a little. They'd thought Flowey might be watching them from afar, but... Just in case, they steel themselves, then turn around.
"BOO!" Flowey shrieks, tongue lolling from a mouth of broken teeth.
"Hi, Flowey," Frisk replies. "I was looking for you."
He turns his face back to normal, if mildly peevish. "You could at least pretend to be scared."
"But I brought you something and then I might drop it." They squat and hold out the plate of pie. "Want it?"
Flowey looks like he's about to snap something rude, but he pauses and cranes forward to get a better look. "...Is that butterscotch-cinnamon pie?"
They nod. "I helped make it."
He looks up to study their face. Then he glances to one side. "I don't have arms, remember?"
Frisk picks up the fork, stabs off the end, and holds it out for him.
Flowey peers at them, then at the pie on the end of the fork; then he leans forward and carefully bites it off. After a moment, he swallows.
"Pretty good," he admits.
They beam, then offer him another forkful.
After he eats it, he asks, "So what were you calling me for?"
"I haven't seen you around. I missed you."
Flowey doesn't answer right away, and he takes extra-long to chew the next bite of pie. "I've been around," he eventually mumbles. "You just never saw me."
Frisk sets the plate down, lies on their stomach, and offers him another forkful of pie and an inquisitive look.
He accepts the former and ignores the latter. "So, how d'you like sleeping in my old bed?"
Frisk thinks about this and the many, many ways in which to answer poorly, then winks. "I'd like it better if you were there with me."
Flowey nearly chokes on his next bite of pie. Chara does choke, so to speak, before bursting into laughter. Frisk grins and wiggles their eyebrows.
"Sh-shut up," he sputters. "Oh my god, you say the most embarrassing things."
"You thought about it, didn't you?"
"Shut up!"
Frisk laughs in delight, then breaks off the crust with their fingers and offers it to him. He bites into it with far more force than necessary, yanking it right out of their grasp, and they swing their feet back and forth in satisfaction.
"We haven't gone on that date yet," they add.
He pauses and peers at them.
"You wanted a fancy one, you said. D'you still wanna go?"
He blinks twice, and to their surprise and concern, he looks dismayed. He pauses to glance to one side; then he wonders quietly, "...Is Chara there?"
Frisk confers inside and nods once.
Flowey attempts a smile. "...C-can I...?"
In response, they set down the fork and bow their head. Then they lift it, cross their hands under their chin, and give Flowey a slight, not-at-all awkward nod of greeting.
"Hi," says Chara.
"H-hi," says Flowey.
A not-at-all awkward moment of silence passes.
"You wanted to say something to me, right?" Chara prompts.
"Haha... ha... Y-yeah, but now my mind's gone blank," Flowey admits, looking away.
Chara lowers their hands. "...Have you been doing okay out there, all by yourself?"
"What? Pfft, I'm fine. I'm used to it," he scoffs, relaxing. "I'm not some weak little crybaby anymore, Chara."
"...I see." They pause. "Have you... seen the Player?"
He frowns. "You mean the otherworlder, right? I thought They were back in your body?"
They shake their head. "Frisk and I kicked her out two weeks ago."
"Oh. Oh."
"If you haven't seen her, that's fine. I'm sure she'll pop up again exactly when nobody wants her to."
"That could be literally anytime, then."
Chara snorts and laughs. "True."
Flowey straightens his stem, looking extremely pleased with himself.
They lift a hand and lean their chin on it. "...Anyway, I don't mind if you go on a date with Frisk. It's their body and their SOUL. I'm just along for the ride."
"Oh! S-so, uh... it won't be weird?"
"A date between a human with voices in their head and a soulless talking flower? Golly, what's weird about that?"
"Be serious, Chara!"
"I am being serious. Mostly. The premise is already ridiculous. If you want me to bow out once the date actually starts, I can do that."
"N-no, that's... I mean, you don't have to do that! Frisk would be lonely without you."
Chara smiles a little. "That's true."
I can go on one date without you, Frisk argues.
Can you? Can you really?
Frisk is silent for a long moment; then: ...I'd rather not have to.
That's what I thought, Chara replies with wry affection. But if you want privacy, just let me know. I can tune out until you call me back.
Okay. Thanks, Chara.
De nada.
"Anyway, if you want privacy, you can have it. Frisk has the same offer," they say aloud. "Did you want to say anything else?"
His hesitation soon becomes a long silence.
"See you later, then," they conclude, and shut their eyes.
"Wait!" Flowey shouts. "You don't have to go already, do you?"
They open one eye. "Why? You don't need me anymore, right?" They pause at the look on his face, then admit, "Well, I guess that was a mean way of putting it." A beat. "Remember, this is Frisk's body. I just borrow it from time to time. It's normal for me to bow out for them."
"...oh. Right. That's obvious."
Chara waits a moment longer, just in case; then they start to reach for him, hesitate, and pull their hand back without doing anything. "Have fun on your date, Ree. I mean it."
When the child sits up, it's with Frisk's usual squinty stare. They tilt their head at Flowey; he's half-wilted, and that concerns them. There isn't much pie left, and they spear the last bite and offer it to him.
"You okay?" they wonder.
"What?" He looks up, frowning, then chomps the last bit of pie off the fork and slouches as only a flower can. "I'h hhine," he mutters around it.
Frisk sets the fork down on the plate and watches him eat. "Do you want to go on a date, still? It's okay if you don't. We can cancel."
He jerks his head up and swallows. "What? I didn't say anything about canceling! We're going on a date! A fancy one!" He jabs an accusatory leaf at them. "And you won't let me be bored for a second! You promised!"
They smile and nod decisively. "I did." They push themselves upright and pick up the dirty dishes. "I'll get the reservations."
"Out of curiosity, are you planning on dinner at MTT Resort?"
Their smile widens.
"Hah! Good luck on that! Literally everything at that restaurant needs reserving months in advance," Flowey replies. "If you can set up a date there tonight, that'll REALLY impress me."
Tonight? They consider that. It's half past noon now, and if dinner's at seven or eight... Hopefully that should be enough time. "Okay."
He pauses. "Wait, seriously?"
They nod. "Meet you out here in six hours?"
He stares. "Seriously?"
They grin, wave, and turn to jog back into the house. They look back over their shoulder when they reach the front door and see Flowey still gawking; when they catch his eye, he ducks back underground and is gone. They laugh and head inside. It'll be tough, but the prospect of impressing Asriel fills them with determination.
