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It's such a beautiful day outside.
You run through the grass, green blades soft and cool against your bare feet. There's a net in your hands, and there are butterflies flying away from you. You can't stop laughing. Something about the butterflies, about the way their wings catch the light, makes you giddy with joy. Even after forty-two days, it seems like you can't get enough sun.
"Hey, kiddo."
You turn around to see Sans walking towards you, hands in his pockets like always. You stop chasing butterflies, but you still can't contain your energy. You bounce up and down in place, standing on your tiptoes.
"Catching butterflies, huh?" he asks. You nod excitedly. He grins. "Man, you sure are one buggy kid, huh?"
You giggle, and he chuckles. But his laugh seems nervous. As you look at him closer, he looks down, his voice trailing off.
"Listen, kid," he says slowly, as if he's preparing to say something he doesn't want to say. "I need to ask you something."
You look at him questioningly.
"When exactly are you planning to reset, huh?"
Your eyes widen. He knows. How does he know? All this time, even after you won, he though that you were going to... to...
"I mean, don't get me wrong," he continues, "this is a sweet setup. Everyone's happy. And... and when they go back, they won't remember it, so it'll be fine."
He looks up at you. He's crying and shaking, tears streaming down his face. "But then there's me, right?"
He'll remember, you realize. If you reset, he'll remember everything. It'll just keep happening, over and over.
"I... I just..."
He laughs again, a laugh choked with sobs barely held back.
"Making me wait," he says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, "awful cruel of you, you know? I..."
He sinks to the ground, nearly curling up in a ball. "I can't keep this up much longer, Frisk. I-I can't keep waking up to... to this. Knowing that I'll... that everything'll..."
He's sobbing now, really and truly sobbing. "Just please," he chokes, "t-tell me."
He's surrounded by that blue aura of light and energy. You can't tell if it's him or you or the ground that's shaking. Maybe all three. When he looks at you, his one blue eye is shining like a light in a snowstorm.
"Tell me when, Frisk!"
He collapses into sobs, shaking and crying as hard as you've seen anyone cry. You just watch him as he lies there, shaking in front of you.
You reach out your hand to him, laying it on his shoulder. He looks surprised.
"I won't," you say softly. "Not ever."
Even when he's kneeling down, you still have to stand on your tiptoes a little to kiss his cold forehead. As he watches you, his eyes wide, almost like he can't believe you, you turn around and run through the grass to the fleeing butterflies, scooping up your net on the way. Footsteps come out from the house.
"Sans?" Toriel asks, her voice gentle and confused. "Are you alright?"
You can hear a shuffling, like he's standing up. When he speaks, his voice still trembles, like he's holding back tears, but it's filled with a nervous, cautious hope. You finally catch a butterfly, and as you watch its bright wings beat faster, you smile.
"It's... it's such a beautiful day outside."