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Note : To Aaaah who recommended me Mandapony's Fade away. I've listened to it! The song just fueled my inspiration xD

Keeper of The Underground, Dreamer of The Sky

CHAPTER ONE

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"I love you every day. And now I will miss you every day."
― Mitch Albom, For One More Day

Asriel Dreemurr was used to the dread of being alone. He was already accustomed to the void in his heart, that being left in the underground all by himself doesn't feel as painful as Chara's betrayal before. Even though he didn't get to bid his farewell to his beloved family. He only watched them from a distance away before he made his way back to the ruins.

Soon.

Sooner or later, he'd transformed back into a flower. He'd turned back to a limbless being, as well as one devoid of any emotions. One that wasn't humane. One that had long forgotten the sweet taste of love and kindness, ironically he used to be when he still had his soul. Now, he was turning into a soulless creature, only filled with the need to cease his boredom. He'd become Flowey again. A sinful being throughout the history of the Underground.

What Asriel wasn't expecting was a companion. He didn't saw it coming at all, it was beyond his assumptions. Not that he's boasting his intelligence or anything, but being a flower before had taught him how to be observant. The familiar bundle of brown tresses, cut short to the shoulders, and droopy chestnut eyes gazing toward the golden flowers - or he could've described them as almost-dying golden flowers. Slowly, like a plague of some sorts spreading across the region, the fresh golden flowers curled and weakened and bent as if returning to its slumber.

Why in the world would Frisk be here?

She should've left. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was the one who fought him - twice and he never made the battles easy - and gained freedom for all monsters. Then why - of all people - why was she still trapped inside here?

Frisk noticed him. Noticed the odd look meant directly toward her. Noticed how his jaws worked, his mouth gaped and shut like a suffocating fish derived of oxygen. Noticed that he was speechless despite the look on his face, it told her many just by reading the creases written on his forehead. She said nothing, however, only pursing her lips and shifted her gaze back to the dying flowers. There was agony colouring her visage, the way her chestnut shades of pools lost in numerous thoughts - she almost seemed like as if she needs to burst into tears. Somewhere, deep inside, Asriel felt his remnants of empathy calling out to her. He could somewhat feel the vibes radiating around her; a very foul mood, her emotions in shambles, conflicted - was that guilt?

Asriel exhaled a cloud of air. "Frisk, you -"

"I know," she cut him before he could finish his whole sentence, "I couldn't leave."

Asriel heard. That really wasn't something to be heard from Frisk herself. The surface was where she belonged after all. What could have gone wrong? Unless, the idea clicked into his mind. As if Asriel had figured out the solution for an extremely tough puzzle.

Unless. . .

"Frisk, you. . . You're not really Frisk, right?"

For a moment, although brief that Asriel almost missed it, her expression changed to one glinted in sheer surprise. How observant, she inwardly mused. In the midst of her turbulence, she felt the amusement slipped in between, although just temporarily. The way his eyes widened matched her own at the moment before she lowered her gaze once more. Meekly, she gave him a languid shrug as a response he dreadfully waited. "Who knows? It's up to you to find it yourself," Frisk smiled and then proceeded to remain silent. The only sound visible was the rustles of the golden petals, dancing from the source of a non-existent breeze, as they began to wither to the ground and lost, mingling with thousands of others.

Asriel followed her position after he couldn't come up with an kind of response. The monster inched closer, hugging his knees as he did and curled his toes buried deep within the flowers that proudly loomed tall in their last moment. Occasionally, Asriel glanced sideways. Frisk was humming a tone he was certainly familiar with - the tinkling tune surfacing from the depths of his memory. The music from a box - ah, the one placed on top of the horned statue. A long time ago, he and Chara had found it when they had been playing around the garbage pile. Possessively, afraid that others might steal such a precious thing in the Underground, they hid it on top of the statue. Yet, the non-stop, perpetual rain had ceased the music - it seemed that it was Frisk, perhaps, had fixed it. Otherwise, the tune was only a secret for two.

Involuntarily, he found himself humming too.

"Hey Frisk. . ." he called out to her. He could feel it. His remnants of soul slipping by now.

"Hm?"

"I'm just going to stay here if you need a friend," said Asriel. The smile faded, Frisk's face returned to her originally stoic expression, yet her eyes were bright as if they were sparkling. The sign itself was enough for Asriel to know that she was contented for now.

"I know. . ." she whispered, "Thanks. . ."

The two of them continued to hum. The songs rose as echoes in the mountain, until for one moment, the meadows were silent and cleared and lonely.

The two of them had vanished.

Day twelve beyond the surface. So far so good. There was still a tinge of radiance around, Sans was certain of that. The monsters settled down quickly afterwards, blending with the humans nearby - who, for some, were fortunately free-thinkers and good-hearted. They were friendly, the villagers near Mount Ebott, and had invited the monsters in with open arms. They offered homes and lands and accommodations, even allowing monster-children to attend school to acquire the knowledge and educate regarding of the new world which had been concluded as too large to the monsters. Of course, some others desire to venture other parts of the Surface. And so, they left as quickly as how they exited the barrier. Meanwhile, Muffet had already set up her bakery. It seemed like the spider pastries had became big sales, even though most of the times they were overpriced. And there was Grillby's. Much spacious than what Snowdin could offer. Instead of a cranky jukebox, the fire elemental had set up a karaoke session on Friday's nights instead. He heard through gossips that Mettaton was offered a position as a live show's host somewhere far. Alphys got worried but she became fine with it after a few considerations, by means that he'll have to visit Ebott village to get his parts rechecked. While Papyrus, his brother - well - didn't achieve his dream yet because affording a car like what he often visioned costed an arm or a leg. So, by now, Papyrus started to work as a chef in a fancy restaurant as one of the experts - as he exclaimed proudly- in pasta menu.

It didn't work well for him in the first day of his job, of course.

And yet, despite all the news he received about other, there wasn't a word about Frisk anywhere. Day and night passed, Sans still couldn't find Frisk. Not even Toriel nor Asgore, not Undyne or her girlfriend, definitely not his brother knew her whereabouts after their escapade - on which the monsters had decided to name it the Break-out. Sans was determined, but not even through gossips or telltales about their saviour. Not a single clue given, all the monsters were as helpless as Sans himself. Since the first ten minutes he'd been on the surface, the skeleton pushed amongst the busy throngs of monsters to look for his dear friend. He couldn't bother less about the sun the others were busy admiring, not when he's losing the human that lit the dark surface of the Underground with her own, unique radiance. Alas, Sans could only conclude that she disappeared. Perhaps, Frisk had left to her previous home. She was human after all. Although, deep inside, Sans had been hoping the brunet to give them farewells instead.

There wasn't any.

So, the skeleton waited once more. He waited for a week. Now, there was only two days left before the second drops by. Sans bitterly clenched his fists against the thought. Had Frisk completely left? Will his hopes shatter again? Although she might have her own rights to return, Sans viewed it as a form of betrayal - even though, he was in denial at the current moment. He admitted, if he had known the moment before she opened the barrier was the last, he would've made his words the best amongst all.

If only he had known. . .

Today, Sans didn't feel like doing anything either - not that he was doing anything particularly better in the past few days, nor the days before the Break-out. Most of the times, the skeleton would only linger in Grillby's or played his trombone or worst, doing his sock collection when in reality, he was just lazy to do the laundry. Papyrus wasn't exactly pleased. But mostly, he was in Grillby's since, according to Pap, he was in a state of not being enthusiastic on the surface. There was a certain truth in his statement. Lately, he hadn't been cracking jokes and he wasn't as cheery before (Sans wasn't as punny as he used to be, heh). Here, it's too noisy and the happy faces crawling into his memory started to irritate him. That was his opinion after three days of continuous revels. Drunkards, children, all flocked together like fishes in the sea (perhaps he shouldn't mention that out loud in front of Undyne, heh). Albeit, the various jobs he was offered and the invitations to parties and huge social events - Ebott villagers had the knack of hosting drinking parties many times per month - Sans didn't really felt up to it. Speaking of which, their mailbox had been piled with sorts of invitation cards and party flyers lately. Sans groaned, finally having the urge to let out his frustration.

Sitting at the far corner, he watched as the customers in the bar multiplied. By now, the bar providing the semblance of warmth and coziness had three-fourths of its taken. It's not even Friday yet. Humans and monsters were flocking about, once an exotic sight to behold. The regulars of Grillby's, the monsters who were once royal guards weren't quite pleased by the fact that most of their usual seats were taken by somebody else. Especially when Greater Dog wasn't able to play his self-versus poker game, and was only capable of watching two humans and one tree-monster playing the deck all by themselves. Sans saw the dog released a frustrated growl and left begrudgingly. Almost half of the villagers would stop by the bar during their free time, except for those who claimed they have better standards and rather prefer fine dining than having a taste of the greasy food. People like Undyne and Papyrus, who - strangely - weren't exactly those kind who'd be posh but brash and whimsical instead. He grinned inwardly toward his own muses.

Frisk would found it amusing, as well.

Sans immediately frowned. Remembering her had never tasted so bitter. Almost, he thought. Almost, Sans' curiosity was in par with the need to breath. He exited the overpopulated bar. It was a mess now, with too much people in it. Occasionally, Sans peered past smoked chimneys and tiled roofs to glance at Mount Ebott. Wisps of clouds shied away from its peak, as if knowing the secrets that lie beneath, the treasures it contained, the history. Until now, thinking about going back to his old home gave him the cold shivers. Sans nearly slammed his fists against the marbled counter.

Was it a wise choice to return?

There was a sense of dread hanging in the air, but Mount Ebott was calling. Singing his name, singing its welcome as the pit below outstretched and darkened.

Was it wise?

Perhaps. . . Frisk was waiting.

Frisk was calling him, he swore he almost heard her voice by the gentle breeze that blew past him.

TO BE CONTINUED

Mozu : Gawd, my back hurts! Well, a chapter focusing on conflicted Sans lol. I swear I'll make him more In-Character in the next few chapters, when he's not into his little depression session.

Reviews. . .? X for love, O for hate!

-Mozu The Mochi (2016)