"Your name is Chara," the flower says one day, and you, of course, are inclined to agree. "Do you remember anything else?"
"No," you sigh. "I remember the fall "
"And...?"
"That's about it."
"Nothing before then?"
"No. I...I know things. Like in my head, but there's no memories attached. Like I know I came from a place where I was hurting, but what that hurt was, I..."
"I know the feeling," he muttered. "Listen. About before, I uh...I can't really say I'm sorry, but I should be. The rules have obviously changed."
"There are rules?"
"There were. You...aren't the person I was expecting to run into. I mean, you are, but...the memories. Like you said."
"So you're one of the things I forgot." You lay back in the bed of flowers, staring at the distorted golden light trickling through the hole you must have fallen down. "Care to remind me?"
"No, I don't. Because I don't know if you can handle it."
"I handled it last time. Right...?" You sit up, and the look on the flowers face is grim.
"Some effed up kind of handling it, if that's what you want to go with."
"That's not helpful."
"Tell you what: The day you can explain to me who Asriel was, who he was really, I'll tell you. Until then, well..."
"You don't trust me."
"I don't trust the world. Like I said, the rules have changed. You're not supposed to forget."
"Wasn't up to me."
"You don't know that."
"I mean-"
The ground shudders a little bit, and you take that to mean Flowey is gone. You return your gaze to the rays of light flickering above, watching as bright yellow shifts to a brilliant amber, bringing with it a cool draft from above that begins to sap the heat from the cave. Your sweater staves off the worst of it but as your fingers go numb and the afternoon air nips at your nose, you sigh, stand, and brush the dirt off your body.
"Asriel," you mutter to yourself. The name sounds odd, almost angelic. Like the name of a being with great and terrible power, one you should do well to avoid, and yet...you knew this person. Flowey thinks you knew this person, as questionable as his words may be, you know you know this person. Somewhere, in your heart, the name aches, but...there's nothing there. The pain is hollow.
You step through the crack in the rocks, submersing yourself in darkness. A jolt runs through your body as the temperature starts sinking much more rapidly than it should. The light behind you shifts from amber to a lunar blue, and-
And you refuse. You are not doing this again.
You make a fist with both hands, and slam your palms into your forehead. At once, the world fades back into it's normal state, and the slippery firmness of compacted ash and dust trades out for coarse dirt and gravel.
You still see that twilit abyss on your way back to Toriel's house. Corners of your vision that bleed into whatever hellscape you're running from. Shadows just barely visible around corners that vanish if you stare too long. A flicker of pale moonlight in the flames of the torches lining the walls of the Ruins. The sensation of ash and dust in your shoes, between your toes.
Eventually, you find your way back into Toriel's welcoming arms. She knows something is wrong, knows you aren't okay, but doesn't press the issue. You find yourself sat at the dinner table again, sampling some of her snail pie. It's not bad. You don't know why you expected it to be, but...it's good. And it's like that's a punchline to a joke nobody has told you yet.
"I talked to that Flower monster today."
"Hm? What Flower monster?"
"The one I was arguing with when you found me."
"So that's what that yelling is about...I suppose you've made amends then?"
"Sort of?" You take a large bite of the pie, more confident that it won't suddenly sour on you. "He thought I was someone else."
"I have to say, I don't know any flower monsters that live in the Ruins."
"Really? I figured you knew everyone here."
"I thought so too. Perhaps, then, you'll introduce me sometime?"
"Maybe. He's very skittish. And being a plant, he can burrow away whenever he wants. I'll have to try though. His name is Flowey, if that helps."
"Flowey...and you said he's a flower monster?"
"Yeah?" Toriel held a paw over her mouth and started chuckling. "What?"
"It's just...it's so like this place. A flower named Flowey. I'm sure you've seen that the Ruins extend far below us. A whole city used to be here, cramped and unpleasant as it was. But over time, we expanded through the tunnels, and, well, people left. But before all that, before this place was called the Ruins, it was called Home."
"Just Home?"
"Yes. My...old friend of mine named it, and, uh...he's not the best with names. So a home named Home, a flower named Flowey...curious."
You felt the pause there. The hesitation to say "old friend" and you know that person...maybe they're not dead, but...
I'll turn this mountain into a crate before I let that happen.
Those shoes belong to children that have...well, moved on.
You nod, understanding, and take another bite of snail pie.
It tastes sweet and savory
It tastes like rot and ash.