Post by Moonclaw on Nov 10, 2016 7:24:37 GMT -5
Mount Ebott 201X. One year after Frisk died. One year since the girl sacrificed herself for monsters. Giving up her life for their freedom. One lone gravestone standing in a bed of golden flowers. Just like the flowers that killed her. Beautiful but deadly. And removing her light from the world forever.
The golden flowers shifted as a weight settled down on them. As usual. The same time every day. A single red drop of liquid landed on a flower, vanishing as soon as it hit the flower’s spongy center. “Hey, sweetheart….flower you today?” No response. There never would be one. It was always the same. No matter how many times he returned, again and again. The golden save file necklace dangled from his neck, reminding him of all the times he Flowey, and Frisk had awoken next to one of the glowing, golden lights.
When Frisk was still alive.
She no longer had the ability to reset. She survived Toriel’s flames, Papyrus’s bone attacks, Undyne’s spears...even his own gaster blasters. But even her save files couldn’t rescue her from the flowers that had consumed her body.
The tears fell faster, as they rolled off of Sans’s bone smooth cheeks. He used to cry a lot, the first few weeks after her death. Lately, he would just visit the grave and sit in front of the stone, staring at it sadly before leaving. It was his place. The place he came to check on every day. He didn’t know why tears came now.
He didn’t know why they came at all.
It was funny, really. Just not in a humorous way. More in the cruelly ironic way. Frisk, the human he killed over and over and over. The one he wished death upon so much had become his friend. His first friend.
And then, when he had finally come to realize just how much she meant to him... she had died in his arms. And they were so close to breaking the barrier together.
It was funny. In a cruelly ironic way.
A rustling. A rustling echoed throughout the pit, painfully loud in the other wise silent room. As he clenched his jaw, he quickly wiped the tears off with his sweater. He didn’t wear his jacket anymore. He never would. After all, it wasn’t his anymore, anyway. It was with Frisk now, underground. It was hers.
He slowly turned his head to locate the source of the noise. A human figure came into view. Brown, short hair. Warm eyes, the color of melted chocolate. And a look so helpless that broke Sans’ heart all over again.
“F-Frisk…?” the skeleton breathed, it was low and airy, a tone of disbelief. It couldn’t be possible. Frisk was dead. But it seemed that she was standing in front of him.
“No…” the human girl said cautiously. Of course. Of course, it was impossible. The brief moment of hope was extinguished even quicker than it had come.
“I’m Cal. Frisk’s...younger sister.”
Frisk had a sister? Should he be offended that she didn’t tell him? Shocked?
“You’ve never been here before.” It was a statement. Not a question. Sans would know. Nobody had ever come at the same time he had. He was the only one who seemed to care about her death. Other monsters still tributed her death, but none would ever cry over it like him. Have their heart break over it. They never got the chance to meet the heroine of monsters.
“...The truth is...I never really like Frisk. But...I just wanted to apologize...to her...say goodbye”
Her answer made Sans’s eyes grow wide. How could she not like Frisk? Her own brave, selfless sister? What kind of person was she?
The red orbs in his eyes were a tad bit brighter than before. “If that’s the case, then maybe you don’t belong here. You’ve had a year to do it anyway.” he told her. He felt numb. He wanted to spend time alone anyway. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate with her around. And he felt a bitterness toward her.
His eyes found a single flower as he heard a gasp come from behind him. “If you ha--” Why did he stop? He knew what he wanted to say. That the girl shouldn’t have the right to be called Frisk’s sister. That Frisk was a far better person than she could ever hope to be.
Why couldn’t he say it?
Sometimes kindness is all we can give.
Kindness. What Frisk had been trying to get him to show all along. Plus, had he not been the same way? He had killed her countless times...and she still forgave him. Her being dead...shouldn’t prevent him from doing that.
“I should…?” the meek voice came from behind him.
He got up and walked over to her. After a moment’s hesitation, he offered a hand. “Come on, Frisk’s been waiting for you.”
Sometimes, kindness is enough.
The golden flowers shifted as a weight settled down on them. As usual. The same time every day. A single red drop of liquid landed on a flower, vanishing as soon as it hit the flower’s spongy center. “Hey, sweetheart….flower you today?” No response. There never would be one. It was always the same. No matter how many times he returned, again and again. The golden save file necklace dangled from his neck, reminding him of all the times he Flowey, and Frisk had awoken next to one of the glowing, golden lights.
When Frisk was still alive.
She no longer had the ability to reset. She survived Toriel’s flames, Papyrus’s bone attacks, Undyne’s spears...even his own gaster blasters. But even her save files couldn’t rescue her from the flowers that had consumed her body.
The tears fell faster, as they rolled off of Sans’s bone smooth cheeks. He used to cry a lot, the first few weeks after her death. Lately, he would just visit the grave and sit in front of the stone, staring at it sadly before leaving. It was his place. The place he came to check on every day. He didn’t know why tears came now.
He didn’t know why they came at all.
It was funny, really. Just not in a humorous way. More in the cruelly ironic way. Frisk, the human he killed over and over and over. The one he wished death upon so much had become his friend. His first friend.
And then, when he had finally come to realize just how much she meant to him... she had died in his arms. And they were so close to breaking the barrier together.
It was funny. In a cruelly ironic way.
A rustling. A rustling echoed throughout the pit, painfully loud in the other wise silent room. As he clenched his jaw, he quickly wiped the tears off with his sweater. He didn’t wear his jacket anymore. He never would. After all, it wasn’t his anymore, anyway. It was with Frisk now, underground. It was hers.
He slowly turned his head to locate the source of the noise. A human figure came into view. Brown, short hair. Warm eyes, the color of melted chocolate. And a look so helpless that broke Sans’ heart all over again.
“F-Frisk…?” the skeleton breathed, it was low and airy, a tone of disbelief. It couldn’t be possible. Frisk was dead. But it seemed that she was standing in front of him.
“No…” the human girl said cautiously. Of course. Of course, it was impossible. The brief moment of hope was extinguished even quicker than it had come.
“I’m Cal. Frisk’s...younger sister.”
Frisk had a sister? Should he be offended that she didn’t tell him? Shocked?
“You’ve never been here before.” It was a statement. Not a question. Sans would know. Nobody had ever come at the same time he had. He was the only one who seemed to care about her death. Other monsters still tributed her death, but none would ever cry over it like him. Have their heart break over it. They never got the chance to meet the heroine of monsters.
“...The truth is...I never really like Frisk. But...I just wanted to apologize...to her...say goodbye”
Her answer made Sans’s eyes grow wide. How could she not like Frisk? Her own brave, selfless sister? What kind of person was she?
The red orbs in his eyes were a tad bit brighter than before. “If that’s the case, then maybe you don’t belong here. You’ve had a year to do it anyway.” he told her. He felt numb. He wanted to spend time alone anyway. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate with her around. And he felt a bitterness toward her.
His eyes found a single flower as he heard a gasp come from behind him. “If you ha--” Why did he stop? He knew what he wanted to say. That the girl shouldn’t have the right to be called Frisk’s sister. That Frisk was a far better person than she could ever hope to be.
Why couldn’t he say it?
Sometimes kindness is all we can give.
Kindness. What Frisk had been trying to get him to show all along. Plus, had he not been the same way? He had killed her countless times...and she still forgave him. Her being dead...shouldn’t prevent him from doing that.
“I should…?” the meek voice came from behind him.
He got up and walked over to her. After a moment’s hesitation, he offered a hand. “Come on, Frisk’s been waiting for you.”
Sometimes, kindness is enough.
