Coming Home
Just like the first time, Toriel began their first full day in the Underground by preparing a nutritious breakfast of cereal and fruit. The milk was made of magic, apparently, but the cereal and fruit were from a farm elsewhere in the Underground. It was in an out-of-the-way area that they hadn't visited last time.
Still, it was nice to have real food.
After breakfast, she gave them their academic assessment. Just like last time, they refused to participate in any oral quizzes. Once again, Toriel was fine with providing written assessments and accepting written answers to verbal questions. Unlike last time, they were actually able to write their name when Toriel asked them for it.
"Frisk? What an unusual name for a human. Though, perhaps times have changed significantly since monsters last met with human society. I suppose it is reasonable to assume that naming conventions and language have evolved with time." Toriel said, mostly to herself.
"Now then, Frisk, could you tell me how old you are? Perhaps hold up your fingers for me. I would like to test your academic abilities, and knowing your age would give me a good idea of where to start."
Instead of holding up the fourteen (eleven) fingers that they didn't have, Frisk took the paper with their name on it and wrote their age beside their name.
"Fourteen?" Toriel raised her eyebrows, then gave them a small smile, "That is quite a leap there, my child. You couldn't be any older than ten or eleven, unless I miss my guess. Teenage humans are a good bit taller than you are and would have begun puberty as well. Perhaps if you had said twelve instead, I would have believed you were only small. Now tell me for real this time. I promise I won't laugh. There is nothing wrong with any age you happen to be."
Frisk underlined the number fourteen.
"It is not good to lie, my child. It will be much harder to set up a proper education plan for you if you do not cooperate." Toriel chided.
They underlined the number fourteen again and wrote a small note.
I'm not lying. I am fourteen and I have done the first bit of ninth grade. Test me on any eighth-grade material you like. I scored A's and B's across all subjects.
Toriel considered the statement briefly. "Perhaps you are a ninth-grade student, but that does not mean that I will allow you to lie about your age. If you have the intelligence to have skipped a few years, then we can tailor your education to your accelerated learning pace. Knowing your age is important so that I can develop lessons that take your developmental abilities into account as well. I would not make a six-year-old sit through a one-hour talk about cell structures, even if they could follow along and fully internalize the information. At the same time, I would not ask a sixteen-year-old to switch between physical and sedentary activities every fifteen to thirty minutes to maintain their energy levels and keep their attention from wandering too far from the material they need to learn. The needs of a fourteen-year-old will be different from a ten- or eleven-year-old, and that is not a bad thing. It does not make you immature or incapable. It just means that you are young and process information differently at this stage of your life. With that in mind, will you please tell me your age?"
Frisk circled the number fourteen. They frowned for a second and held up a finger to stop Toriel from chastising them again. After a quick moment of deliberation, they decided to tell Toriel part of the truth. Knowing that they had access to magic would be assumed here. It wasn't a fact that she could hurt them with.
I really am fourteen. I have lived fourteen years of time, but my body stopped aging just before I turned twelve. I believe it has something to do with my magic, but it is not something that I currently understand. Nor can I control it. I won't be able to perform physical feats that most fourteen-year-olds could, by virtue of being smaller and lacking the muscle gain that puberty would bring. However, I am perfectly capable of learning in the same way and at the same rate as any other person my age.
"That is… unusual." Toriel commented, "I did not realize that humans could use magic without prior exposure to… Well perhaps if you had travelled before… Though where you could have gone to achieve this and still find your way here, I do not know. The only worlds I know of that would slow or stop aging are Underworlds and possibly Netherworlds, and those worlds and Doors are unlikely to open up to a child who would find their way here. And a child from an Underworld would certainly not find their way here."
You know about the Doors?
"Naturally. I am the guardian of the Ruins, where nearly all travelers come to when they arrive. Certainly, all humans end up here. Of the non-humans who could blend in with monsters, most still come through the Ruins. However, some show up elsewhere in the Underground, depending on what they need and what sort of place they are coming from. All but the royal family are descended from travellers who have found their way here." Toriel explained, "The real question is how you know of them. This is the first world you have travelled to, is it not? Are you perhaps from a hub world? Or a Nexus, as humans tend to call them?"
Frisk started to shake their head before stopping.
I think the world I originate from is technically a Nexus. At least, that's what I've heard. It connects to a lot of other worlds, in any case. It's not common knowledge among most humans though. But this is the only world I have travelled to that is not where I was born. I have never opened a Door to anywhere else, nor have I gone through a Door that didn't connect to Earth and the Underground.
"Then that… is certainly strange. However, that is besides the point. We are here to determine your academic abilities, not discuss the mysteries of the Doors. If you say that you are fourteen and that you are near the beginning of your ninth-grade studies, then I will believe you. However, I will still assess your knowledge of eighth-grade materials. It is better to have a solid foundation before proceeding.
"After the assessment, if you truly are up to a ninth-grade level, we will spend the rest of this week filling in any gaps in your knowledge. After that, assuming that you are, in fact, mentally fourteen, we will begin your education following a schedule intended for a teenager. It would be similar to the work weeks of adults, but it will be on an eight-day cycle instead of a seven-day cycle. Five days with five to six hours of learning and one to two hours of small assignments. One day to complete a larger assignment related to one of the subjects covered, then two days free of any academic work to do as you please.
"Does this sound agreeable to you?" Toriel asked, "If this sounds too intense, it is not too late to forget the debate about your age and adjust for a younger student's four-day schedule instead."
The eight-day schedule sounds fine. I would prefer to focus longer on the work and have the full weekend of free time.
"If this changes at any time, you need only let me know. I will not judge you for needing breaks or for any accommodations you might require to get the most out of your learning."
Thank you.
Toriel left the room briefly before returning with a familiar small folder of assessment papers and a small book that they had never seen before. She placed the papers and the book in front of them to let them look it over.
The papers looked similar to the ones that they had seen the last time they were here, but the questions were clearly at the eighth-grade level instead of sixth. The math pages had questions about finding the hypotenuse of a triangle, volumes of prisms, or calculating interest using the principal/interest formula. The Literacy papers had questions involving vocabulary and grammar structures covered in seventh and eighth grade classes. The science papers had questions about animal classification, levels of solute saturation, and basic anatomical structures. It was nothing new to them. The book, however, was an introduction to sign language.
Frisk picked up the book with a curiosity that they hadn't felt since their first time learning about the Compass. Unlike the Compass, however, learning to sign could actually be useful in the future.
"Are you interested? I am not familiar enough with most human languages to help you with your foreign language credits. I am not sure that I would even be able to help if I did, due to the nature of the Doors and their own magic. As a supplement to that, I would recommend learning to speak with your hands instead."
There was a feeling that pressed itself up against Frisk's barrier. It made their chest tight and their eyes hot, but they didn't let it show on their face. They didn't know what this feeling was, or how they were supposed to figure it out. They didn't want to let it through. They needed to stay distant. They couldn't allow themselves to be hurt again.
"I am proficient in the skill, though I know there are idioms that I am unaware of which exist only within the culture of those for whom this is the primary mode of communication. I would like to help you learn, at least the basics, if only so that you feel comfortable communicating in a way that is more direct and interactive with those around you."
Frisk held their breath. Their face was getting hot, and their hands trembled a bit. Whatever this feeling was, they knew they couldn't allow it out. If it got out, then they weren't sure if they could get it back in. Frisk lowered their gaze away from Toriel's face and stared at the book in their shaky hands. They blinked and doubled down on their barrier. Their lungs hurt and their eyes stung, but they had to stay strong.
"You may never be ready to speak, or ever wish to, if that is a skill that you possess at all. I want to help you find a different way to connect with others that doesn't rely on your voice. It would not do for you to feel isolated for not speaking, nor uncomfortable if you are forced to."
Red eyes squeezed shut and two small drops of water fell. Frisk refused to look and see what expression Toriel was making at them. It was hard to tell what they were supposed to be feeling. Doubling down on their mental barrier was barely holding back whatever emotions were trying to break out, so they tried a different strategy. They let their mind float to the side. It was a place near enough to stay present, but far enough not to be too attached to the unwanted feelings.
And it worked.
Frisk opened their eyes. The tear tracks still stained their cheeks as they reached for the pencil and paper that they were using before. They underlined the last line that they wrote.
Thank you.
"You are most welcome my child." Toriel said with a warm smile, "Now please fill in these worksheets. Take whatever time you need, and if you don't know the answer, leave the questions blank. Once you are finished, we will cover the verbal material. A dictation and some questions about a short story, which I will read to you. If there is still time after that, perhaps we can even begin learning the alphabet from your sign language book. How does that sound?"
Frisk gave Toriel a thumbs up and did their best to form a genuine-looking smile. It was a bit difficult to exert such fine control on their physical body when their mind felt like it was floating just out of reach. It might just be a skill that they need to practice. It wouldn't be any different from learning to manipulate their soul.
In fact, it should be easier. They have fourteen years of experience moving their physical body. Manipulating their soul was fairly easy now after only a year and a bit of practice. Learning to move their body from a distance should come quickly. While they were here, they could at least use Toriel to practice with. If nothing else, her responses could be a baseline for how well they're learning that skill.
Plus, they wanted to stick around long enough to hold simple conversations in sign.
The voice could stuff it.
Frisk lifted the pencil back to the paper and began to work on the assessments in from of them. For the most part, it was straightforward and familiar. Partway through the math sheets, Toriel left for a moment to bring them a basic calculator. While most questions could be solved easily without one, calculating fractional exponents and square roots would have been impossible for them without it.
After completing the science and math packets, Frisk took a break for lunch. It was a simple magic-peanut butter sandwich with fruit. Healthy and filling. After lunch, it was Literacy and arts. Given that this was another world or dimension, history and geography assessments were absent. Those would be easy enough to make up if or when they needed to if or when they ever went back to Earth.
A small part of their brain wondered what their parents would think of them now. And what they might think in the future if they met again. That though was quickly squashed and buried. Frisk ran away for a reason, after all.
It wasn't long before they indicated to Toriel that they were ready for the verbal portion of the assessment. Twenty minutes later, they were finished.
"Well done my child. I see very few blank answers in your sheets. You should take a look at the first chapter of the book and practice the letters of your name? It will take me some time to finish grading your work." Toriel said.
Frisk was all too happy to oblige. Most of the letters were easy to memorize. Several letters involved making hand shapes that look similar to the letter that it represents. After learning the shapes for their name, they repeated the pattern slowly, trying to make their movements as smooth as possible.
Once they were confident in spelling their name, they glanced at Toriel. She still had her glasses on, reading the answers to their worksheets. Frisk decided to continue trying to learn the rest of the alphabet, starting with 'T,' for Toriel. They decided to make it their short-term goal to get fluent with all the names of the monsters they met on their first time through the Underground.
Napstablook was next, since he was the first monster they met after Toriel. After that, it was Sans, then Papyrus. They were decidedly ignoring Flowey. It's not like Flowey cared if they said anything to him anyways. And Flowey's name didn't have any unique letters besides 'W'. When would they ever use the letter 'W' anyways?
As they practiced their letters, their mind drifted back into their body. They hardly noticed it happening. By the time Toriel had finished grading their worksheets, Frisk was able to sign their name smoothly and remember the shapes of most of the other letters in the alphabet.
For a first day, it was great progress.
"I am impressed my child. It seems that your assessment of your academic standing was accurate. We will spend the next two days reviewing the specific questions that you left blank, as well as a couple of other mistakes." Toriel told them, "All in all, you are certainly prepared for ninth grade material. I would just like a couple of days to learn for myself about your learning style and habits, and covering the few weaker areas will be good for both of us. After these two days, you will have your first weekend before we start your schooling in earnest. Is that acceptable?"
Frisk nodded and went back to working on their letters. It was nice that Toriel was including them in her planning. It was different from last time and a welcome change. Despite being stranded in a foreign world, it helped them to feel like the almost had some control over their life.
Control and some semblance of autonomy was a craving that they didn't realise they had until Toriel had granted them these simple options. She gave them a method to speak without talking and a choice in their education and schedule.
It was getting harder to distrust her actions and consider them insincere. Maybe it was a yearning to belong and make someone proud that motivated them. Perhaps it was loneliness. Perhaps it was nostalgia. Perhaps it was a simple need for warm food and easy companionship. Whatever it was, Frisk was easily falling back into the comfort and safety they felt with Toriel the first time around.
Toriel was occasionally glancing at them, as if she was considering asking them a question, but turned back to the papers when Frisk made it look like they were busy with learning to sign. Even if they felt safe and fell back into the old routine too quickly, they knew they had to be vigilant in ignoring any probing questions. They weren't ready to try to explain their situation to Toriel. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
They weren't sure how she would react to knowing that they had made a deal to reset the world. How could anyone grasp that? It's one thing to imagine a hypothetical scenario, but to fully internalize it? There wasn't any good way to explain it that wouldn't make them sound crazy or cause her some sort of existential crisis.
Although the vindictive part of their mind was telling them that causing an existential crisis would be sufficient payback for abandoning them.
Just as Toriel stood up to make dinner, Frisk waved at her to grab her attention.
I used to eat snails back on Earth. There's no need to overcook them to get me used to the texture. I quite enjoy them when they're cooked normally.
Toriel looked at them and stared just a bit too long. "Thank you for letting me know, my child. And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. Would you enjoy snails cooked with garlic butter and thyme?"
Frisk nodded and Toriel went to go prepare the food.
Keeping themselves busy while Toriel was cooking was easy enough to do. For one, they had the sign language book to occupy their time. Learning was fun, and this skill would be immensely helpful. Besides that, they also had their thoughts.
In particular, they needed to decide sooner than later whether or not they were going to leave tonight or stay for a while. They didn't know if they could really trust of forgive Toriel for the previous timeline, although they also weren't sure if it was justified to hold on to their distrust when she hadn't abandoned them yet. Was there a correct decision? Their heart couldn't decide what it wanted to feel, and their brain could see rational arguments for either choice.
Whoever said that forgiveness wasn't easy had it right. The worst part of all this was that Toriel would never even know.
But did that matter?
Frisk shook their head in an attempt to reset their thoughts and figure out what they wanted to do. Stay or go?
Just as Toriel called them to the kitchen for dinner, Frisk made their decision. They were going to stay. They could at least finish the core ninth grade curriculum before moving on. They had time, and so long as they behaved and didn't go downstairs, Toriel would let them stay as long as they wished. There was no downside.
And if the time helped them sort through their complicated feelings about living with her and their inevitable future, then all the better. If they could find a way to fully quash all emotions before the time came for them to leave and get kicked out, it could only serve them well in the rest of their life.
Dinner was fragrant and delicious and quiet. Toriel seemed to be giving them space and time to think and exist while still taking care of their basic needs. It was nice to not be forced into conversation and just enjoy the presence of another person for a while with (almost) no strings attached.
Every so often, Frisk caught a brief glance of Toriel, staring at them with a thoughtful look. They had no idea what it could mean, but they figured it was probably harmless. Toriel wasn't the type to strike first. In general, she was only assertive when it came to academics, not so much when it came to anything else.
If it was an issue, Toriel would bring it up eventually. If it didn't matter, then they didn't need to know.
As promised, Toriel spent the next two days working with them on their general understanding of the key concepts that preceded ninth grade material and left them to their own devices in the evenings. For the most part, they spent their evenings reading and practicing their letters and basic gestures in sign language.
During their first weekend, they chose to wander around the Ruins instead. It wasn't about exploring anymore. They were very familiar with the layout and all the nooks and crannies of this part of the Underground. It was more of a nostalgic walk to see if it would help them work on their conflicting feelings.
Specifically, to work on squashing them. Lock them up and trap them behind the barrier in their head. It would take time and practice to build up walls strong enough to keep everything inside, where they couldn't feel it. Starting with the nostalgia and bittersweet memories would be a good place to start. It was a feeling that they could more or less identify and explain. It was also controlled and expected.
For all that the Underground had hurt them, it was still the place that they best belonged.
Toriel said that all monsters were descendants of travellers from other worlds. Everyone here is a misfit in some way. No one here fits in, so they all do. Magic provided what everyone needs, and everyone was more or less equal in status and worth. Maybe that's what Lundy meant by Virtue, all that time ago.
Regardless, they knew that they needed to be prepared for their eventual departure from the Ruins. It was nice to relax for the last few days, reading and enjoying the gentle quiet of Toriel's house. On their way back for the evening, Frisk took a small detour past Toriel's house to pick up the abandoned toy knife. It still had the unusually sharp edge that they remembered.
It wouldn't be the same without a sparring partner, but they could at least practice their forms.
"I could offer a second opinion if you wanted it." The voice said.
Why would the voice care? Or want to help them in the first place? Wouldn't watching them exercise be boring?
"It was just an offer. I know a thing or two about knives and fighting. If you don't want my help though, then don't take it."
Frisk decided to consider it. Maybe once they shook off the rust and felt more practiced, they would ask for a second opinion. It would do to practice incorrectly, after all.
Practice makes perfect is an incomplete statement. Perfect practice makes perfect performance. If they wanted to survive Undyne without relying on luck, then they'd need to be a lot better than they were now.
Even if death didn't stick while the voice was around, it didn't mean that they enjoyed it. It still hurt, getting impaled by her spears.
They dropped the knife into their magically enlarged pocket and made their way back.
Before dinner, they took the opportunity to reorganise the bookshelf in the living area. Both they and Toriel had the bad habit of leaving books out, even when they weren't being used. It took a bit of time during their first stay in the Underground, but they eventually learned Toriel's particular sorting system. With practiced efficiency, the books were tidied and back on the shelf in only a couple of minutes.
Frisk clapped their hands together to brush off the imaginary dust and smiled to themselves. Job well done, in their opinion.
Their eyes moved towards the kitchen and saw Toriel standing in the doorway. They gave her a small wave and walked over to their spot at the table, pointedly ignoring the thoughtful frown that Toriel was giving them.
Dinner was simple. Roasted potatoes with magical ham and a small garden salad with vegetables that Toriel cultivated herself. They weren't the most flavourful, but Frisk appreciated the effort she put into growing some of her own food.
As they were finishing, Toriel motioned for them to stay at the table while she brought the dishes to the sink. She had a curious look on her face, as if she wasn't sure about what she was going to say or do.
After a moment of silence, she made up her mind and spoke, "My child. I have noticed… No, that's not where I should start. My child. You mentioned knowledge of magic briefly before you wrote your academic assessments. In order to tailor your lessons about the Underground to the appropriate level, could you tell me what you know about soul colours and their associated magics?"