Winter.
Nature winds down. Forests clump and wilt. Vegetation withers. Everything dies. The falling gray noise gnaws its way everywjere. Monsters are slowly sapped by the low white hum of snow. It's all consuming.
Except, it was the first of December. It hadn't snowed yet. And it wasn't going to, either. Instead, the recycling of wintertime was in the open for all to see, and the dry sluggishness of the air was their stand-in for spirit. That's how Hometown was. Kris didn't care. Snow was hard to walk through, ice was slippery. Dry was fine.
He crashed in bed. Its softness slowly numbed him into the bedside clock's rhythm. He didn't want to open a comic book. He was tired of checking if the internet was up. Wouldn't want to call or bother anyone. Going outside was a pain. And he knew what would happen if he tried to look at his old toys. He made a habit of doing homework, but it didn't fill the hours of dead air that clogged his days. He lay stuck between four grainy walls and a sinking ceiling. He decided to pretend to go out, so Toriel wouldn't bother him, afterwards he'd crawl back through the bathroom window, and stay dead in bed. That was as good a plan as any. The ash clouds were a nicer view than the damp narrow walls he was in. He raised from his bed and walked past his desk and the locked, covered, cage.
In the mirror was him, wearing his own face. His expression was what he was expecting. He felt tired, but he was looking more refreshed than ever. He had been getting good amounts of sleep in. Frustratingly sound sleep too. He ate well, did his chores, and finished his homework on time. He had no one in his mind to bother him. His only residual symptoms were sharp memories crashing into his thoughts, but those had lessened. He should feel great. It wasn't worth it plastering a smile on his face. That blank stare is what he expected.
It's what he was supposed to expect. He wasn't expecting anything else.
He wasn't.
The lumbering aspen had its sheen and warmth stolen, being left a faint gangly pole. Like the rest of the park's tenants, it had dropped allusions of resistance to the hands of time, being left an ugly cracked pillar reaching toward the wintertime sunlight. Protection from overcast was close to nonexistent and entirely unnecessary. The clouds never come through this time of year. It's an unspoken rule that they don't. Kris thought the snow had gotten to them too. Maybe they don't have the guts to come out.
‟Sup." - A plain gruff voice greeted from behind him.
‟Hi… How'd you know I was here."
‟I knew. Soda?"
‟Bought one myself."
‟Shame."
She let it fall from two feet above. He butterfingered its imprinting two times before it calmed down in his hands. Normally, he could've caught it… No. Normally, it wasn't Kris who caught those, it was the other Him. He recalled many balls that missed his hands but not his face before He showed up.
‟Nothing." - Like a handball that to lodged itself into his eye.
‟Liar."
‟I'm not lying." - He had to get his face checked, and Alphys had no idea what to do. So he got dragged to the infirmary by… Of course. By her. God damn it, not now.
‟You are."
‟…I already told you, nothing's up."
‟Kris, I'm not as dumb as you think I am." - Susie turned over to lock eyes with him, ‟Well, unless you're talkin' bout school."
‟I can tell how nervous you're being."
‟Nervous? About what?"
‟That's what I'm asking!"
‟…I've been perfectly calm though."
‟Yeah, way too calm! I know you, and you only act meek when you're hiding something!"
‟…I think you lost me."
‟I'm just saying— you're not being yourself!"
A cold soda can was placed on top of Kris. The one meant for him, ‟And, I'dunno… I'm a bit worried, maybe."
He stared out into the sky, ‟…Maybe I don't know how to be myself."
‟Huh?! Kris, that's something you just kinda, do? You don't gotta think about it. Makes it weird."
‟I know. Maybe I'm thinking too much about it." - More like 'him' didn't want to come out of himself.
Susie looked like she was just asked to do math homework.
He continued, ‟Maybe I need to get my head checked."
‟You? Don't think they'd find anything in there."
Kris, at that moment, was 'normal'. It was the most himself that Susie had seen. And it didn't feel right. A month had passed, and it wasn't any more 'normal' than at the start. There was still a quiet in his ears. And an emptiness in his chest.
‟…Well, normal or not, we're still friends y'hear!?"
‟Yeah…Thanks Suz."
And with that they lay. It was hard for himself to find much to talk about with the dinosaur.
‟…"
‟…Nice weather up there, huh?"
‟Yuuuup. Real nice."
‟…Midterms?"
‟Screw 'em."
‟…"
‟AGH! I'mBOORED!LET'SDO SOMETHING!" - With an angry kick of the empty can into the forest, the dragon roared asunder, scaring some distant blue jays.
‟…like what?"
‟…We could… OH! There's a new movie in theaters!"
Oh, Movies.
He used to like those.
‟(Didn't think we'd really do it.)"
‟(Shh—Keep it down!)" - Susie raised her head from behind the last row of seats.
‟(There, in the middle.)"
They soundlessly cut through the low-lights. Luckily the hall was nearly empty. Hometown's demographic wasn't big into Horror. Or movies.
‟(We coulda just paid to get in.)"
‟(You think I'm made of money?)"
‟(It doesn't-.)"
‟(Shh—! It's starting.)"
The usual pre-show projected onto the screen. A blue screen advertising pet wash— Wait… what was that golden reflection he saw from the corner of his eye? Oh no, it couldn't… The white blob sitting to its right and the antlers it was hiding confirmed it. It was her. And she was there. Just out of reach and barely to where he could crane his neck to stare. But he was more than afraid to look. What if he was seen? What would she say? They should leave. And quickly. Could he convince Susie-
‟(Psh, just the ads… Kris, what're you looking at?)"
‟(N-nothing.)"
‟(S-Stay put or they'll spot us.)"
‟(Y-Yeah.)"
He was there with Susie. They should enjoy the movie together. He did watch the movie, or try to, his attention was stolen by the seat one row forward and 8 places right. Reading her expressions in the dim glow of the giant screen. Was she scared? She seemed to be, most of the time. She also seemed to be enjoying herself, which was a relief. That made him happy. That she was fine, at least. On the other hand, his stomach was starting to tie itself into knots of knots. His forehead was getting hotter. His throat tightened at one point. His heart was beating too fast, and it was hard to breathe. His brain was getting congested with memories that didn't happen and wouldn't ever. He even got scratchy eyes. It was convenient that Susie was holding onto the seat in front for dear life. If she saw him, she'd never let him live it down for crying at a horror movie. Noelle was having fun, and Catti seemed to not be upset, so everything was alright. He tried to follow suit and swallow his feelings like a bitter pill.
He wanted to watch a movie, not to be reminded. He tried to throw those memories away. Which wasn't easy in retrospect, for half his closet was a bitter reminder. Time hadn't numbed anything, just let pain fester in the empty that it made. He should afford to not care anymore. He had done his best. It didn't work out. That's how life was.
Grow up Kris, they'll hear you sniffling.
