Work Text:
“Hi. Seems as if everyone is perfectly happy.”
I watch the letters on the screen. Listen to the static sounds that are meant to represent the voice of this character. A specific kind of pitch that belongs to Flowey.
It’s not the first time I’ve been here.
Sitting at my laptop, having the Steam app open in the background, the window of the Undertale game in front of it. It’s a really good game after all. I had a lot of fun playing it, so it’s not really surprising that I’d want to play it again.
Especially today.
It’s the anniversary.
Today marks three years since the game was first released. Everyone is talking about it. The fandom has gotten a little smaller over time. A lot of people have left, some new people joined, that’s just how it goes. The anniversary itself brings a lot of old-timers back though. So there’s a lot of buzz today, naturally. Everywhere I go, I see new undertale content, people celebrating the game and their relationship to it, talking about how the game impacted them, in some cases changed their lives.
I know what that feels like.
It’s not that I was in a terrible place when the game was released. Not at all. Mostly things were going well.
But I do remember the days where I would wake up with nothing but sadness and silence in my brain. Days where I couldn’t think, could barely speak, where I would get sick leave and just stay home to put myself together again.
Then I played the game, joined the fandom and slowly… it didn’t happen anymore. I grew happier, more confident. I got creative again, made new friends. I didn’t even notice how the sadness faded out at first, until it was months and months since the last time.
“Take a deep breath. There’s nothing left to worry about.”
I never would have thought a game could have such an effect. Who would? It sounds so silly. But that’s how it happened. And I know I’m not the only one who feels like this.
No wonder then, that people also talk about replaying the game, isn’t it?
Also like me. That’s why I’m here.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot of times over the years. Replaying it, getting to experience the stories again, the choices. The characters that grew on me so much, the humour, the beautiful music. Playing a game that, for once, wasn’t too difficult for me to finish. A game that took all of my expectations and subverted them completely, that surprised me and touched me and made me cry and laugh.
It’s natural, wanting to play something like that again.
That’s what I tell myself as I listen to Flowey.
Even though… there’s a reason why I never got further than this in all these years.
“I don’t think I could do it all again.”
It’s honestly kind of ridiculous to admit.
I feel guilty.
Stupid, isn’t it? I want to laugh at myself. It’s only game after all.
Just some pixels. Preprogrammed dots of light that are shaped into images and words, put there by a guy who had a story in his head. A good story, for sure! But only a story. It shouldn’t matter if I want to experience the story again. Isn’t that what stories are there for?
But then, this game has a way of making people think differently about that.
That was exactly the point of this story, that some things are maybe better off not experienced over and over again. That just because the consequences don’t affect you personally, it doesn’t mean you should do whatever you want.
In many ways, it’s a story about responsibility; that if you have the power to do whatever you want, the greatest thing you can do is to be kind.
That’s another thing I love about this game.
It’s such a beautiful message.
And while I don’t believe that the pixelated characters in this game are real, or have feelings, or any kind of opinion about this… it’s hard.
Even if the characters are not real, my feelings about this are.
I like to imagine them living their best lives in their post-game end credits.
I like to imagine how they might have moved on after three years.
I like to imagine them happy.
I… like to imagine that while I played with them for a bit, I ultimately showed them kindness and let them have their happy ever after.
“So please. Just let them go.”
I can’t help but smile.
Another try with the same result.
But I’m honestly not feeling bad about it. It actually feels good.
I miss playing the game.
But not playing it feels even better.
I close the game. Close Steam.
I walk away.
And I imagine a Flower and a group of monsters and a human in a striped shirt.
Being happy.