"A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor." - William Shakespeare
Chara, now asleep, was still happily embracing "Frisky". The boy who slowly awoke from his slumber, jolted when he realized he was sleeping next to the girl he now knew a little more about.
Chara shuffled herself a little, hugging "Frisky" close to her. Although he desperately tried not to wake her up as he slowly broke the embrace, she opened an eye and smiled at him.
"Frisky" was a little caught off guard, blushing at how close the two were.
"Where are you going, Frisky?"
He could hear that name, or was it a name? He should ask her about it.
"Is that my name?"
Chara stopped looking at Frisk, a little puzzled at his request, she answered shortly after processing the question.
"That is your nickname, Chocolate."
"Frisky" looked straight at her eyes, paused for a bit, then asked her again.
"Should I call you Red then?"
Chara, a tad confused the boy went for something generic and wondered why.
"Why would you go for that?"
The boy looked again at her eyes, and blushing cheeks, then started replying slowly. He also backed off a little bit, or else he would be tempted to take a closer look at the cute person he probably dated once upon a time.
"You know, Chara, wait ... can I call you Chara?"
The pale girl faked her disappointment, puffing her cheeks and frowning excessively.
"You used to be more daring, my friend."
"Frisky" sighed, that kind of exchange sounded familiar, yet unusual. He does not recall any human he could talk with like that. Surprisingly, he wasn't afraid of her anymore either, since he apprehended their first meeting from the beginning.
"Your rosy cheeks are redder than your eyes. Those gleaming eyes are the first thing I recall when I dreamed of you tonight."
Chara grinned, she missed being called anything else but her own name. Honestly, she can't remember who gave her that name either. She remembers her parents in the Underground, her foolish attempt at freeing them from the magical barrier, and all that unfolds from her actions. She can't recollect anything about her past life, although she felt she was alive long before being the child of çé_'&( and $^ù*_".
"Anyways, can you let me go, please?"
The demand stopped Chara's thoughts short, she smiled at "Frisky" and then bluntly replied.
"No, child, I won't."
The boy furrowed an eyebrow, he was certainly no child and it kind of annoyed him to be called so.
"I am no longer a child, Red, not with what I did."
He recalled that half-dream, half-nightmare as he shivered a bit. Chara felt his distress and embraced him harder, almost ripping his clothing apart.
"Don't go, anything is fine. Just ... don't go."
"Frisky" was no longer into that much lovey-dovey stuff, but his body could tell Chara was different. He was "okay" with her touching him, without prior consent, like some vague memory of old.
He naturally patted her head, brushing her short hair in the process. She looked up at him for a good minute, then buried herself into his sweater. Frisk kept her close, feeling her hand wandering under his sweater.
It passed through all the scars he sustained, all those made by the few who challenged his folly. Those were no noble injuries, simply bare scars made out of "Love".
Chara lulled herself with the touch until she started snoring lightly. "Frisky" slowly escaped the embrace but gave his once beloved a peck before going back to being a ghost.
Meanwhile, down an alley in the Ruins, a monster sitting on autumn leaves sat there, waiting for someone to come by. He chose the place because few monsters would loiter around here, as they sticked to their favorite areas.
Soon, a cloaked individual came by and sat close to the patient's specter. They remained silent for quite sometime before the hidden monster showed his face and talked.
"Wingding."
The specter slowly turned his face towards his interlocutor, smiled widely, then went back to his usual expression.
"Ribstone."
One more silence followed, each of the two monsters ruffling with their own leaves pile. Ribstone spoke, again, wondering about the purpose of this encounter.
"Why have you called me here, Aster?"
Aster did not look back, simply brushing leaves away from his pants before replying.
"Chatter, friendly chatter, Arial dear."
Arial looked surprised, the same male that did not come to rescue her before she died, the father of her once children, called her for "friendly" chatter.
"Last time we tried that, we ended up with blades on each other's throat."
Aster chuckled, it is true that they fought once or twice the last time they met.
"Do you miss me that much?"
"I do, my love, I do."
Arial stopped talking, no matter how awful that male skeleton was towards her, she indulged in space/time disruption and human torture.
"No matter what you did in the past, nothing can take off the notches you suffered on my behalf."
Aster felt equally guilty, as he slowly raised his two floating hands toward Arial's face. He caressed every notch that was there, looking for them with small light beads in his eye sockets. Arial took those hovering limbs into her own hands, trying to recall how she felt a long time ago when they just met.
Aster was a loner, she was an aspiring Royal Guard. They met when she first tried to register for her four-year training program, clicking almost instantly. Her, because he looked quite mysterious and reserved, thus a challenging person to talk to. Him, because she was one of the few monsters to acknowledge his existence.
"Love, what can I do to clear my name?"
She cut her reminiscence short before it turns into the nightmare she willingly made herself. Aster simply squeezed Arial's hands.
"Keeping the Princess alive will do."
Is that all? Arial was lost in thought, protecting a single life seemed too cheap a price for her redemption. She pushed forward, trying to make Aster deliver a worthy punishment.
"I thought you would despise me after all those things I did, for quite some time too."
She hated how calm and collected he was, on almost every occasion.
She hated him for a long time because he had not "SAVE"d her. Now, she hated herself, for carrying sheer, bloody hatred for a male whose only sin was being absorbed in work.
"We're equally faulty, Arial. I have not done a thing to stop you before, I could have, but my remaining feelings clouded my judgment."
She had enough of his mercy, so she stepped forward, and clutched on his clothes. Stripping one side bare, she saw the horror of his actual body. A skeleton with countless notches, some deep, some stretching on many bones, others made from heavy bludgeoning.
"When did you get all of those? Did you secretly become a Royal Guard or something?"
Both chuckled, that was one hell of a scenario, yet the truth was grim and unpleasant.
"Let us say ... it took that much of a beating on me to wake you up, the last time we fought against each other."
He then wore back his clothing, took all the hands he possessed, and hugged Arial. She was on the verge of tears, her, an anomaly that killed countless lives. She didn't know someone would bother saving her, let alone take that much damage.
They remained in that embrace until it was time to go back and check on the human children, who still had to deal with the Queen -albeit in a more pacifist form this time.