Fight or Spare

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Naruto x Frisk

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Author's Note

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Story Start

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Naruto let out a measured sigh, leaning against the smooth, cool walls of Toriel's home. It had been a few months since he fell into an Underground realm populated by monsters, battling a maliciously cheerful flower named Flowey. Yet none of that truly accounted for the heaviness in his chest.

A small, polished mirror on a low wooden table caught his eye, reflecting the lamplight in soft amber hues. Naruto stared at his own face, contoured by weariness he couldn't quite place. A fleeting shimmer passed through his irises—red laced with silver—vanishing so quickly that, had he blinked, he would have missed it.

"Am I… seeing things?" he muttered. A jolt of apprehension ran through him, and he reached up to poke at the corner of one eye, half expecting some physical sign of transformation. Nothing seemed out of place. Yet he couldn't ignore the quiet echo of a voice at the periphery of his mind:

You're not supposed to be here.

Those words echoed like a half-remembered dream, each repetition tightening the invisible knot in his gut. The longer he stood there, the clearer it became that this was no ordinary anxiety. He inhaled slowly, intending to quell his misgivings. That was when the world tilted.

A strong, disorienting tug yanked at his core. Naruto grabbed at the air, his eyes widening. Even though he'd experienced dimension-hopping portals, strange ninjutsu, and illusions in his life, this sensation felt alien. It wasn't simply his body being moved, but something deeper—his spirit, perhaps. Darkness enveloped his consciousness, as if he were being pulled beneath the surface of a black ocean.

Then, a burst of clarity.

Naruto found himself standing in an empty void, a plane of infinite darkness that seemed to press in on him from every side. He wasn't alone. Two silhouettes materialized in front of him, each distinct in height and posture.

To the left stood a girl around early to mid-teens, wearing a sweater striped with purple and blue. Her short brown hair framed a face that, at the moment, was taut with confusion. Naruto noted her wide brown eyes, searching the environment for answers she apparently didn't have.

Several steps behind her, half-revealed by the darkness, another figure—this one also a girl, clothed in green and cream stripes, her hair brown but a touch darker. She clutched a small knife in one hand as though it were an extension of her being. Crimson eyes bored into Naruto with an intensity that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

For a moment, no one spoke. The quiet was absolute, save for Naruto's own heartbeat thrumming in his ears. The green-sweatered girl—Chara—finally broke the silence.

"Another one," she murmured, voice echoing in that dark expanse. "Another outsider. How irritating."

A tense smile tugged at Naruto's lips. "Well, not like I planned on crashing your party. Don't suppose we can talk this out?"

Her gaze flicked, first toward the other girl—Frisk—then back to Naruto. "The last thing I need is more complications. And you, Frisk, you've brought him here."

The other girl, Frisk, took a hesitant step forward. She looked over her shoulder as if to check Chara's reaction. "Chara, I… I don't understand what's going on. I didn't bring anyone."

Chara's jaw tightened. "He shouldn't be here. Everything was already precarious enough." The hand clutching her knife tensed, knuckles paling. "Anomalies disrupt everything."

Naruto glanced between them. "I'm not trying to disrupt anything. If you'd just—"

He didn't get to finish. In a movement so swift it could rival a shinobi's, Chara lunged. Her knife arced, gleaming with an otherworldly sheen as it sliced through the air, aimed directly at Naruto's chest. He barely raised an arm in time.

A dull, reverberating clang resonated through the void as steel met flesh reinforced by Naruto's chakra. He bit back a gasp. Under normal circumstances, a simple knife wouldn't come close to piercing his defenses, but here, in this intangible realm, it felt like the rules were… different. The blade bit deeper into him than he expected.

"Tch… persistent," Chara whispered, a twisted blend of frustration and intrigue in her tone. She slid back, adopting a balanced stance. "But still an anomaly."

Naruto cradled his forearm. "What the hell is your problem?"

Chara's eyes shimmered with old resentments. "This place—my place—barely holds together under normal conditions. When anomalies appear, everything shatters."

Frisk interposed herself, voice trembling with urgency. "Chara, please! We don't need to fight."

Chara's only response was a mirthless laugh. Then she lunged again, forcing Naruto to meet her slash with a block, the collision ringing out in that empty space. Frisk let out a frightened cry, arms up as though she could shield Naruto with sheer will.

Suddenly, a ripple of power coursed through the darkness—a wave of unfiltered Determination that radiated from Frisk. The air (or whatever served as air in this void) vibrated with potential. Chara's eyes went wide.

"Frisk, don't!"

But another wave followed, fracturing the mindscape. Naruto felt reality warp as cracks spiderwebbed through the darkness, and he went weightless, plummeting into oblivion.

His last glimpse was of Chara's furious, fear-laced expression, and Frisk reaching out as though trying to hold him in place. Then everything shattered in a blinding cascade of color.

Naruto snapped upright in bed, a ragged gasp tearing from his throat. His entire body trembled, heart pounding as though he'd run a marathon. A single lamp glowed against the far wall, painting the cozy room in warm yellows. Toriel's home—the comfortable sanctuary that had given him respite.

It took him a long moment to realize he had no open wounds, at least physically. But the ache along his forearm felt almost phantom, a residue of that other plane. Shakily, he exhaled. "What… was that?"

He closed his eyes, trying to center himself, but an unsettling sensation buzzed in his core. It was as if two distinct presences had lodged in his chest. When he reached inward, one felt like simmering rage held under a veneer of calm—Chara. The other radiated a gentler warmth tempered by sadness—Frisk.

He fought the urge to shout. He'd experienced near-death illusions, monstrous foes, even cosmic threats. But being connected like this—to two strangers within his very soul—set his nerves alight.

Eventually, fatigue forced him to slump back, staring at the ceiling. "Just… what did I stumble into?"

Over the following days, as Naruto tried to unravel the intricacies of the Ruins, he noticed changes in Toriel's routine. She lingered near a guest room more often, occasionally emerging with worry etched into her features. Curiosity piqued, Naruto ventured a gentle inquiry.

"Toriel, is everything… all right?"

The maternal goat-woman offered a tight smile. "I fear not, my child. A new inhabitant arrived while you were sleeping, a child by the name of Frisk…" She paused, voice trembling. "She collapsed and hasn't stirred since. I… I do not understand why."

Naruto's heart twitched. "Can I… see her?"

Toriel hesitated, but trust outweighed her reticence. She led him down a corridor to a small bedroom. There, resting in a simple bed, lay Frisk, her breathing shallow but steady.

Naruto swallowed the lump in his throat. Indeed, the same girl from his mindscape. She looked younger, more vulnerable. For a split second, he almost convinced himself it was all a bizarre dream. But he could feel it in his chest: Frisk was somehow inside him, too.

He glanced at Toriel. She seemed desperate for answers. "I… I promise I'll do what I can," he murmured, unprepared to say more. It wasn't as though he could blurt out that he'd seen Frisk in a void dimension. Not without sounding deranged.

So began his visits. Each morning, Naruto would train or help Toriel with small tasks—cleaning, reorganizing old books, or assisting in the Ruins' puzzle repairs. Each evening, he'd find a quiet hour to sit by Frisk's bedside. He would talk, hoping she'd somehow hear him. He told her about his old life—his friends in the Hidden Leaf, especially.

Then came nightfall, when slumber pulled him back to that void.

He'd appear in darkness, the same emptiness as before. Though now the shapes of that space were becoming familiar. At times, he'd find Chara leaning against an unseen wall, her knife glinting in some nonexistent light. Other times, she'd be nowhere in sight, only to ambush him moments later. On rarer occasions, Frisk stood quietly, not comatose but subdued, her voice echoing as if from across a great distance.

The nights became a cycle of confrontations:

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Naruto spotted Chara the instant he materialized. She was perched cross-legged in midair, as though the void itself provided an invisible chair. Her scarlet eyes tracked him like a hunter.

"You keep coming back," she said coldly. "Why?"

Naruto inhaled, hands at his sides. "I'm not exactly doing this by choice. That's reason enough."

Chara gave a derisive chuckle. "Choice? If you only knew how little choice we truly have."

A flick of her wrist, and she sprang forward, blade aiming for his throat. Naruto's reflexes took over, and his forearm deflected her slash, the impact sending tremors up to his shoulder. They exchanged a flurry of blows—her knife weaving arcs through the gloom, his fists crackling with subdued chakra. Sparks of strange, prismatic energy flared at each collision, as though the mindscape itself bled color.

He managed to knock her back, and she skidded to a halt, glaring. "You fight well," she admitted. "Better than most 'children' who wander in here."

Naruto steadied his breathing. "I'm not a child. And I didn't wander in here on purpose."

Chara sheathed her blade, a fluid motion. "That remains to be seen." She turned, vanishing into the darkness without another word.

The void quieted, leaving Naruto alone. If Frisk was there, she didn't reveal herself. With a resigned sigh, he let the dream or whatever it was release him.

Days later, in the waking world, nothing about Frisk's condition changed. Yet each subsequent slumber pulled Naruto back to the darkness.

This time, he saw Frisk standing at the center of what seemed like a faintly glowing circle. She appeared less dazed, turning to face him with eyes full of regret.

"Naruto… I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I keep trying to wake up, but…"

He stepped closer, scanning the void for signs of Chara. "What's stopping you?"

Frisk's gaze drifted. "Chara doesn't want to let go. She blames me for… a lot of things. And now you're caught here."

Naruto exhaled. "Then we work on convincing her otherwise."

Frisk looked uncertain, but nodded. "Just… be careful." She extended a hand, as though wanting to cling to Naruto's presence.

Suddenly, a swirl of dark energy surrounded them, and Chara emerged, her expression twisted by something like jealousy. "Frisk," she hissed. "Stop trusting so easily."

Naruto moved to stand between them. "What is your real problem with me?"

Chara didn't answer. She lunged again. This time, Naruto decided a direct approach was too dangerous. He ducked, rolling aside and letting her blade slice empty air. In an attempt at reason, he called out, "We can find a solution, Chara!"

She snarled, face contorted with rage, and unleashed a wave of malevolent energy that Naruto barely evaded. Off to the side, Frisk gasped, pressed a hand to her chest, and the dream collapsed again, sending Naruto back to consciousness drenched in sweat.

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The pattern repeated. Waking hours found Naruto reading in Toriel's library, learning about how the Underground had once sealed monsters away, about the magical barriers, about rumors of humans falling down. Toriel guided him through gentle puzzle-solving, praised him for his quick thinking. But the faint lines of worry around her eyes never vanished.

Every so often, Naruto would ask how Frisk was doing, and Toriel would simply shake her head, hugging a small hope that one day, her child would open her eyes.

That night, the mindscape opened on a more chaotic scene. The void was no longer a uniform black; arcs of color flickered overhead like ribbons of aurora. Naruto noticed swirling patterns that suggested this realm was warping under tension. Or perhaps it was his presence mixing with the strange energies.

Chara was on the offensive the moment he arrived. "Don't think I haven't noticed," she spat, eyes igniting with a deep-seated fury. "You're making the Underground your playground. You speak to Toriel, you roam the Ruins."

Naruto dodged a slash. "Hey, I can't just stay in bed forever."

She aimed a stab at his midsection, forcing him to twist aside. "You disturb everything. Our story was set. Her story was set."

A rush of frustration flared in Naruto's chest. "Well, sorry if I messed up your script, but I'm not planning on rolling over." His chakra-imbued palm blocked another thrust. "I don't get you. Frisk's in a coma. Don't you care?"

Chara's eyes flickered with something vulnerable before her resolve hardened. "Stay out of it." The force of her attacks heightened, each blow resonating with an almost personal vendetta. Naruto matched her pace, weaving chakra around himself in a protective swirl. Their repeated collisions triggered flashes of memory—brief glimpses of an older time, as though Chara's recollections bled into his mind.

He saw the faint image of a golden flower, a lonely child, heartbreak. Then he saw devastation.

Abruptly, Chara's foot caught a break in the ephemeral ground, and she faltered. Naruto seized the opening, striking her blade aside. They ended up face-to-face, panting, fury and confusion bridging the gap between them.

"Why?" she rasped, a tear glinting in one eye. "Why do you keep coming back?"

"Because," Naruto responded, voice gentler, "leaving you and Frisk like this isn't an option."

A violent snarl contorted her face once more. She spun away, dissolving into the darkness, leaving Naruto with an ache in his chest that matched her sorrow.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Every evening, Naruto confronted the same pattern: drifting into the mindscape, contending with Chara's hostility, and sharing fleeting words with Frisk, who seemed both physically absent yet emotionally present.

Through it all, Naruto discovered small joys in the Underground. Toriel's motherly nature comforted him, and he found solace in quiet moments spent testing his chakra abilities in the Ruins' winding corridors. He tried to leap high enough to peer at cracks in the overhead cavern, but a magical barrier always impeded him.

He also encountered lesser monsters—Froggits, Whimsuns, and others—learning to negotiate them manifesting his soul in the power to "ACT" or "SPARE." It felt surreal, but he adapted quickly, weaving compassion into each encounter. He avoided conflict when possible, uncertain how EXP or LOVE might corrupt him in this realm.

In private hours, Naruto recounted stories of the Hidden Leaf to Frisk's sleeping form, describing the hustle of the village, the heartwarming ramen from Ichiraku, the faces of his cherished teammates. He wove tales of Sasuke and Sakura, Kakashi, and everyone else who shaped his journey.

"Wish you could meet them," he murmured, folding his arms atop the bed as he watched Frisk's steady breathing. "They'd tease me to no end for talking to someone who can't talk back… but I have this feeling you're listening."

He didn't expect a response. And of course, none came.

Over the span of more than a year, the mindscape battles evolved. Chara's outright violence grew more sporadic. Instead, she tested Naruto in other ways—puzzles reminiscent of the Underground's style or illusions meant to replicate heartbreak from his memories. Yet each time, Naruto rallied back, refusing to succumb to bitterness.

Sometimes, after a particularly grueling test, Chara would linger.

"You speak of hope," she'd say bitterly. "Did your hope stop the tragedies in your world?"

Naruto could never answer outright. He'd gather his composure and share a snippet of how he overcame despair or protected his comrades. Chara acted unimpressed, but the fact she asked questions at all signified a shift.

Meanwhile, Frisk's presence in the void became more tangible. She'd appear in fleeting glimpses, offering Naruto quiet gratitude for not abandoning them. She and Chara had a dynamic layered by sorrow, regret, and unspoken guilt. Sometimes, Naruto watched them interact from a short distance—Frisk gently attempting to soothe Chara's frayed temper, while Chara pulled away, eyes haunted.

The hidden threads of their pasts remained cryptic, but Naruto pieced together enough: they had shared a bond, fracturing under the weight of misguided choices. Now both were trapped, unwilling or unable to fully break free without the other's cooperation.

Time in the Underground blurred. Naruto learned from Toriel that the Ruins were only a fragment of the Underworld—a labyrinth that extended far beyond, guarded by puzzles and magical barriers. He helped her around the house, tried baking (resulting in comedic failures), and even assisted with teaching the Ruins' smaller Froggits some basic ninja illusions (though that part mostly confused them).

He no longer felt merely like a guest; some part of him had grown roots here, even though he yearned for the life left behind in Konoha. On lonely nights, he'd stare at the starless ceiling, wishing for a sign that he might find a way home, even as he knew he couldn't depart without first resolving whatever bound him to these two girls.

Each night, the mindscape greeted him. By now, the environment had subtly shifted: no longer pitch-black, it glowed with a starlit sky. Phantom winds brushed across intangible grass that hadn't existed before. As if their combined souls were knitting a new space from the chaos.

One "morning," or whatever counted as morning in an underworld lit by phosphorescent rocks, Naruto found Toriel awaiting him in the living room. Her expression carried a hesitant optimism.

"Naruto, I… I think Frisk moved her hand last night," she said, voice trembling with hope. "It was only a flicker, but it's something!"

Naruto's eyes lit up. "Really? That's amazing!"

He hurried to Frisk's room. Sure enough, though she remained asleep, her fingers twitched faintly when he spoke. Encouraged, Naruto launched into a playful retelling of an adventure with Sasuke, complete with exaggerated sound effects. Every so often, a slight crease in Frisk's brow or twitch of her lips made him think she could hear.

Could the barrier between them be weakening?

That night, Naruto drifted into the mindscape with cautious excitement. The star-speckled void felt more alive than ever, and he sensed an undercurrent of tension—like an orchestra building to a finale.

He found Frisk standing at the center of a clearing, ephemeral grass beneath her feet. Her posture was more solid, less ghostly. She managed a small smile upon seeing him.

"Something's changed," she said, voice hushed but steady. "I can feel it. Like I'm closer to waking up."

Naruto's grin was immediate. "That's good news."

But the air crackled ominously, and both turned to see Chara approaching. A swirl of red-tinged darkness clung to her form. Her expression was not purely wrathful this time—there was fear in her eyes.

"So you're going to leave me," Chara said flatly, addressing Frisk.

Frisk shook her head, stepping forward. "No one's leaving you, Chara. We can all break free. Together."

Chara scoffed, but the bravado rang hollow. "Don't you see? If you wake… everything resets. We lose our hold, our existence becomes uncertain." Her gaze darted to Naruto. "And you—are you content to vanish if this world rights itself?"

Naruto paused. "Vanish? Is that how you think this works?"

Chara gave a bitter laugh. "You're tethered here by an accident of fate. If that accident gets 'fixed,' you might cease to exist in this realm. You'd be pulled back to your old life, or maybe something worse. Are you that eager to throw caution away?"

The question hung heavy.

Naruto admitted he hadn't thought about the exact consequences. But he also knew he couldn't let fear paralyze him. "I promised myself I'd help you both, no matter what. If that means risking what happens next—so be it."

Chara's eyes flashed. "Then you're both fools."

She lunged, though the movement was laced with uncertainty. Naruto defended, pushing her knife arm aside and slipping behind her. Instead of striking, he pinned her arm in a hold, careful not to hurt her.

"Stop," he said firmly. "I can feel your fear—this isn't about hurting us. It's about not wanting to be left alone."

She trembled under his grip, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Shut up… shut up!" She yanked free with a burst of dark energy, stumbling back.

Frisk closed the distance. "Chara, please. I remember what it was like, how lonely you felt. None of this will fix that."

Tears began spilling down Chara's cheeks, though she tried to hide them behind anger. "I don't… I can't…"

Naruto stepped up beside Frisk, offering silent support. "I've been there—feeling like everyone will leave if they see who you really are. But you don't have to stay trapped."

Chara dropped to her knees, hugging herself. The knife lay forgotten on the grasslike texture of the mindscape. The stars above dimmed slightly, as if empathizing with her turmoil.

In the hush that followed, Frisk knelt beside Chara, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. Naruto, keeping a respectful distance, watched as a subtle radiance began emanating from Frisk—Determination, yes, but also Compassion, bridging the gap between them.

Chara's sobs subsided, replaced by ragged breathing. Her eyes flicked toward Naruto, then back to Frisk. "I… never wanted to hurt you," she whispered. "But I was so angry. Angry at everything… at how the world used me, twisted me."

Frisk's hand squeezed gently. "I know."

Naruto cleared his throat softly. "It's not too late."

A swirl of energy coalesced around the three of them, warm and serene, as if acknowledging this emotional break was precisely what the mindscape needed. Chara's tears glimmered in that light, and for a moment, an unspoken acceptance passed among them.

When Naruto opened his eyes, he found himself back in Toriel's home. But this time, he sensed something fundamentally altered within him—a lessening of tension, as if a rope had loosened around his soul. He rushed to Frisk's room, practically skidding to a stop at her bedside.

Toriel was already inside, a hopeful light dancing in her gaze.

Frisk's eyelids fluttered. Her lips parted, throat working to produce sound. Finally, a quiet murmur passed them: "N-Naruto… Toriel…"

Tears of relief welled in Toriel's eyes. She cupped Frisk's cheek, letting out a joyful sob. Naruto's chest felt close to bursting with gratitude. He squeezed Frisk's hand, giving her a beaming smile.

"You did it. You're awake."

Frisk returned a weaker version of that smile, blinking as if getting reacquainted with the real world. "Chara…"

Toriel's expression turned quizzical, but Naruto nodded understandingly. He could sense Chara's presence, still within the recesses of their shared link, though notably calmer.

"Let's get you on your feet first," Naruto said. "There's time for everything else later."

Toriel prepared nourishing soup, fussing over Frisk like any loving mother. Naruto stepped back, giving them space, content to watch. His gaze wandered to the corner of the room where, for the briefest instant, he caught a glimpse of Chara—transparent, hesitant, observing them from a distance.

Their eyes locked. The hostility that once defined Chara was absent. In its place remained a kind of wary respect, or maybe gratitude. Then she faded away.

Recovery proved slow. Frisk spent weeks regaining her strength, during which Naruto quietly supported Toriel in tending to her. He relayed everything that had transpired—leaving out the deeper details of soul-bonding, mindful that Toriel might not easily digest such concepts—but he assured her that Frisk's recovery was a turning point.

Meanwhile, the mindscape no longer assaulted Naruto each night. Instead, when he dozed, he found himself in a gentler dream realm. Sometimes he'd see fleeting images of Chara, wandering among half-formed memories. Other times, Frisk appeared, and the three of them actually talked without the threat of violence.

One evening, a few months later, Naruto and Frisk strolled through the Ruins together, guided by a small lantern. Frisk wore a contented expression, as though every stone corridor was a comfort.

"Thank you for everything," she said, glancing up at him. "I don't know how long I would've been trapped if you hadn't come."

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm just glad you're okay. I still can't believe I ended up here in the first place."

She paused beside a crumbling pillar, biting her lip. "Chara's… adjusting. I can feel it."

Naruto nodded. "She has a lot of regrets. But she's trying. That's all we can ask."

Their footsteps echoed as they headed deeper, arriving at a small clearing where soft, bioluminescent flowers glowed. The atmosphere felt peaceful, like a prelude to bigger changes. Frisk's gaze lingered on the blossoms, a bittersweet smile gracing her features.

"When I first fell into the Underground, I had no idea what to expect. I stumbled on Toriel, she guided me, and I promised I'd protect everyone if I could." She looked at Naruto. "It's funny… you did the same for me."

Naruto shrugged, the corners of his lips quirking up. "I guess we share that habit."

They sat for a while, chatting about everything and nothing—the Ruins, the promise of exploring beyond its purple stone halls, the uncertain possibility of returning above ground.

In time, the conversation drifted to the question of what came next. Naruto considered it carefully, knowing that if his being here was the result of an anomaly, maybe the resolution of that anomaly might open a path home.

But did he want to leave?

He'd grown fond of Toriel, of Frisk, even of the endless labyrinth that was the Underground. He also couldn't abandon Chara, not when she still hovered at the edges of acceptance, needing guidance.

And so, as the quiet hum of Ruins' ambiance surrounded them, Naruto resolved: he would stay, at least long enough to see them safely to whatever lay at the Underground's end.

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That night, Naruto drifted into a dreamless sleep. Yet partway through, he sensed a stirring. He found himself once more in the star-dappled mindscape, but the environment felt less ominous—almost tranquil.

Chara stood a few paces away, arms folded. No knife in sight. She wore the green-and-cream sweater, expression weighed by complicated emotion.

"I… wanted to talk," she said, voice subdued.

Naruto approached slowly. "Sure. I'm listening."

Chara's gaze wandered to an ephemeral night sky overhead. "You changed things by being here. Changed me, changed Frisk, changed the outcome I thought was inevitable." She huffed, hugging her elbows. "I'm not… used to that."

Naruto waited.

Her posture softened. "I have a lot to atone for. The things I tried to do… the ways I manipulated Frisk." Her eyes squeezed shut. "I don't know if I can be forgiven."

He stepped closer, voice gentle. "You can't erase the past, but you can move forward. We all can."

She gave a tremulous nod. "If… if you hadn't insisted on pushing past my anger, I'd have destroyed what little hope we had. You're stubborn. It's irritating."

Naruto laughed softly. "People tell me that a lot."

For the first time, Chara's lips twitched in something resembling a smile. It vanished an instant later, but the change was there. "Just… know that I won't stand in Frisk's way anymore. Nor yours."

Naruto's chest felt warm. "That's good to hear."

She shifted her weight, uncertain. "I've never done this. I'm not even sure what or who I am anymore. But maybe, in time—"

He nodded encouragingly. "We'll figure it out. Together."

Chara turned away, her hair swishing. "Don't push it," she muttered, but there was no malice in her tone. Then she vanished, leaving the mindscape calm, almost serene.

Naruto woke to find Toriel bustling in the kitchen with a bright smile on her face. She insisted on making a celebratory breakfast, something sweet to mark Frisk's continued recovery. The atmosphere in the house was light, almost festive.

When Frisk joined them at the table—still a bit weak, but walking under her own power—Toriel practically smothered her in maternal affection. Naruto couldn't help but grin at the sight, a pang of homesickness mingling with gratitude. He was an outsider, yes, but never had Toriel treated him as anything less than family.

Frisk caught his eye over a plate of sliced fruit and gave him an appreciative nod. No words were needed; their shared experiences in the mindscape bound them.

Between bites, Toriel pressed her hands together. "Frisk, my child, when you feel well enough, we could attempt to leave the Ruins. I know you had a yearning to see the rest of the Underground…"

Frisk looked to Naruto. "I'd like that. But… I want Naruto to come, too."

Toriel smiled warmly. "Of course, I would be delighted for him to accompany us. Goodness knows, I suspect he yearns for more than just these quiet stone halls."

Naruto's eyes lit up at the invitation. "Count me in," he said. "We can head out once Frisk is strong enough."

A faint presence flickered at the room's edge—Chara, intangible and silent, observing. Naruto pretended not to notice, respecting her space. One step at a time.

The day they set out, Naruto found himself gazing back at Toriel's home with mixed feelings. The small house nestled in the Ruins had become his place of comfort, the site of so many revelations. He patted his chest, sensing Chara's subdued presence and Frisk's unwavering determination. They were no longer intangible fragments. They were companions—odd, soul-bound companions.

As they walked down a narrow hallway that led to the next barrier of puzzles, Toriel explained the significance of each mechanism. Frisk listened intently, offering small comments, while Naruto practiced using his chakra to bypass or cleverly solve puzzles. Laughter filled the corridors when he stumbled on a silly riddle that required complimenting a statue.

All the while, Chara lingered at the edges of their vision. Sometimes, when they passed a bed of golden flowers, Naruto noticed Chara standing there, gaze far away, lost in memory. And once, she locked eyes with him, silently challenging him to keep his promise of unity.

He gave her a small nod.

Exiting the Ruins, they stepped into a corridor bathed in pale light. Naruto inhaled, curiosity aflame about what further mysteries the Underground held—Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotland, and the grand city of New Home if Toriel's stories were accurate.

He was also mindful of the risk. Danger surely lurked beyond these safe halls. Yet he felt no reluctance. If facing that danger meant forging a brighter future for Frisk, for Chara, for all the monsters, then so be it.

As they reached the final door out, Toriel placed a comforting hand on Naruto's shoulder. "Thank you, my child," she said softly. "For caring about Frisk—and for teaching me that hope can come from unexpected places."

Naruto, cheeks warming a bit under her praise, could only grin. "I'm just following what my heart tells me is right."

From behind him, Frisk's quiet voice chimed in. "Let's go see what the rest of this world has in store for us."

And so the door opened, revealing a dim passage leading onward. With each step, the bond he shared with Frisk and Chara pulsed in time with his heartbeat, a triumphant drumbeat of life.

They had taken that crucial first step away from anguish and uncertainty—together.