Chapter Text
Stainless Steel. You had a weird relationship with stainless steel. It was odd, how something you see so often could develop such an emotional connection, but after blinking for the tenth time and being faced with that cold silver-grey, you realized how you had grown to hate that goddamn color.
The hundredth time, you had mockingly accepted the cold metal as your life-long lover.
The thousandth time, your lover had grown tiresome.
Finally, maybe at around ten thousand, (or at least that’s what it felt like. You’d lost count after around the fifteen hundred mark), you had just accepted it as a part of life; not as a lover, but maybe more as an alarm clock that went off every couple of days, marking the start of a new....
“Day.”
So now. You were standing in front of your fridge, that boring stainless steel, one hand filled with various pills, the other half way through with filling a glass of water, and you simply accepted it.
See, somehow your life had become the literal Groundhog Day movie, except instead of it being one day, it was closer to a week. Well. It varied from 4 to around 8 days. The longest yet had been an entire month; that drove you wild. You’d open your eyes to that stainless steel, your pills in hand, and continue on with your life for about a week before, suddenly, you’re looking at that lifeless grey once more.
Needless to say, you have been through quite a ride so far. The first (and second) time it happened, you spent the entire week in a dazed “deja vu” sense, refusing to believe that your life had just rewound by a week.
Nothing special had happened, nothing that would warrant a reversal of time. You were not an asshole like that guy from Groundhog Day was. You were pretty kind, you thought. Sure, your life wasn’t the most exciting: the village at the base of Mt. Ebbot was small, and practically built for people who didn’t want exciting lives.
Which was rather odd, as Mt. Ebbot Village was the home of the most human mages in the world: they were drawn to the barrier like college students to free pizza day. They were all pretty relaxed though; they just siphoned from the barrier’s magic, and added life to the surrounding forests. Human magic had changed since the times of the war: the mages were weaker, more channels than mages, really. They had little herb shops and knick knack stores, and mostly hugged trees and told stories passed down in their families of Monster friendships and jovial happiness. Most, if not all of them were monster advocates: mages fighting to remove the barrier and re-integrate the Monsters to society. They touted that it would fix the economy and global warming, and that removing access to magic was the biggest mistake the Human Race had ever made.
In fact, almost the entire town was Pro-Monster freedom. The mages were very convincing.
It made little difference to you, though. You just lived a quaint little life in a quaint little home with a quaint little job in a quaint little town, doing quite a bit of nothing , but it was just how you liked it.
You were an author; your first published book was nothing to sneeze about; it’s success was greater than flukes, but not enough to get you a place on the front counter of Barnes and Noble. It was enough, though, to give you enough income to purchase a small home and live in peace while you wrote your second book.
You had written and rewritten the 23r’d chapter of your current book over a thousand times now; your first real hypothesis to time’s resets was that the Fates were not quite happy with how your chapter was coming along. So you wrote it. And re-wrote it. And wrote it again until you not only felt that your one chapter was probably the most polished piece of literature to ever come to Man, but you also had every word of every possible variation memorized.
After you decided you had broken records on amazing writing of ONE chapter, you quit, instead spending your repeating weeks doing everything you could ever possibly want to do.
You took all your life savings (and maxed out your credit cards) to purchase the largest yacht possible, and then sailed it as far as you could before time reset.
You did the same thing with just about every car under the sun, in every direction possible. You knew the surrounding 500 miles like the back of your hand.
You studied every subject your little heart desired, filling days and days with astrophysicism, lexicography, anthropology, classic literature, instruments, sex positions god you got desperate after a while.
Finally, maybe after a good 800 repeated weeks, you calmed down. You accepted your life, and you took to what any person would.
You went to the library, got a new book, and spent most days reading happily in the cute cafe down the road.
You’d talked with every barista, every cook, every waiter, every customer, about every topic under the sun until you knew more about them than you thought you knew about yourself.
And yet, even though you had been doing this for so long, even though you thought you should get tired of them, you somehow didn’t. Maybe it was because you were a complacent, optimistic person who enjoyed the little things in life. Maybe it was because people were truly incomprehensible, and every time you talked with them, there would always be something new. Some new topic you’d never brought up, or some new gem they’d be willing to tell you for whatever reason.
And there’s more than enough books to keep you entertained for eternity, if you’re okay with rereading one after about 3 years worth of time.
So....
Life wasn’t bad. If anything, it was calming, peaceful, predictable . You had grown to like your little repeating world.
So one morning, 13 days into a particularly long cycle, when the little jingle of the bell above the door of the cafe you so lovingly claimed as your own assailed your ears, you looked up, rather surprised but still sipping at your morning coffee.
No one was supposed to come through that door for at least another hour, if your calculations of the 13-day cycles were correct (they were). So, intrigued and perturbed, your eyes trailed to the entrance to the cafe, and paused on the hooded figure that walked in, interest spiking as hands went to the hood, and pushed it off their head.
You choked, coffee pouring ungracefully from your mouth and dribbling down your chin as you slammed on your chest, trying to take in a breath. Heads turned to you, giving the hooded figure enough time to get to the hostess before people noticed him.
Or more specifically, giving enough time for the hostess, a lovely mage named Janice, to see the figure, gasp like she had just been proposed to, and then yell in excitement, “YOU’RE A MONSTER!”
The heads turned in your direction quickly turned away, and your calm little cafe burst into commotion. People jumped from their chairs, leaned around tables, stood over partitions just to see if Janice was correct. Gasps filled the entire cafe, and the figure- rather skeletal looking, from your first glance- recoiled, taking a step back at the extreme reaction.
“No no no! Please!” Words spilled from Janice’s lips, and she practically barrelled over the hostess podium to grab the poor monster’s hand, tugging on him in a physical plea for him to not leave. “We’re friendly, I swear! We’ve just never seen a monster before, and like, you’re right here!”
“Glad I could... provide?” The skeleton sounded unsure, skeptical. You didn’t blame him, but you knew Janice did truly only have good in her heart. The other guests respectfully sat down, but none looked away. Janice tugged at him again. You wiped the remaining coffee off your face, and submitted yourself to a coffee stained shirt for the rest of this cycle.
Well.... Did this skeleton mean your cycles were over?
...Fuck you liked this shirt.
“Please stay! We’re more than happy to serve you! You do eat human food, right?”
“Uhh, yeah. We eat human food. It wouldn’t be humane not to!”
“OH hahahaha! That’s funny! Humane!” Janice prattled; you could taste her nervous, excited panic as she grabbed a menu and practically sprinted across the cafe toward you, dropping the menu on the table to the left of yours. “Your table is over here, someone will be RIGHT with you!” She yelled before reaching forward, grabbing his hand in hers. “And may I be the first to formally welcome you to the above ground!”
“Ah. Thanks.” The skeleton said, sitting down.
“Can i get you something to drink? Water? Milk?”
“Ketchup.” The skeleton said, and then repeated quieter, “Ketchup... please.”
“Coming right up!” Janice belted happily, before holding her hand out again, “I’m Janice, if you didn’t catch that the first time!”
“Uhh.... Sans. Sans the Skeleton.”
“Wow!” Janice shook his hand, and then let go of it quickly, breathing, “A REAL monster!” And she scampered off. The skeleton, Sans if you heard right, let out a sigh, resting his skull in his hands, watching the whirlwind of a woman disappear into the back.
“She means well,” You said, folding your napkin up and placing it back in your lap. The skeleton looked over at you, and you gave him a grimace. “She really does. Our town is very pro-monster...” You shrugged, “So seeing you suddenly walk in here is pretty much everyone’s wet dream.
“Heh,” Sans laughs, “I thought everyone’d be a bit more... unaccepting of a skeleton walking into a cafe,” He muses, and you give him a half smile.
“You can expect that outside of this town,” you say, then pause, “probably,” You correct, then continue. “But here, you should be pretty welcomed... if not idolized .”
“You don’t seem to be idolizing me,” He observed, and you just let out a huff.
“I’ve seen too much to be surprised anymore, I think,” you sipped at your coffee. You could see a peculiar expression fall onto the skeleton’s face, but you just waved him off with a smile. “Nothing like a monster, I mean, just odd things in life. Honestly,” your eyes trailed away from him, looking out the window, “I think i’m probably just in shock right now. You being here... means a lot of change.” Your eyes flicked to him again.
“Gee, really.” He rolled his eye- little lights in his eye-sockets, actually. You laughed, placing your coffee cup down.
“I guess change comes hand in hand with a monster walking into your cafe, huh?”
“It kinda does, tibia honest.” You heard his voice catch an odd tone at “tibia,” and you snorted.
“Wow!” You shifted in your booth, facing him a bit more, “you suck at that!”
“Suck at what?” He looked genuinely offended, as if you had just insulted his lifelong hobby.
“Puns!” You reacted, “You can’t make them so obvious like that: tibia honest,” You overstressed “tibia” mockingly. “Nah, man, you gotta just kinda... slip em in! They have to be able to marrowly avoid detection, you know what I mean?”
“That takes out half the fun, thou-” Sans paused, narrowing his eye-sockets. “Did you just-?”
“Marrow.” You raised your eyebrows for a moment, and then let them drop. “See?” You let your smile slip from genuine to sly, and he chuckled.
“Wow. You’re going to be a skele-TON of fun.” His grin doubled in size as you gawked at him; he didn’t get the lesson at all!
“No! You have to be subtle! You can’t just- Aah!” You flicked your hand in his direction, kind of giving the bird, but without the bird.
“Was that a bird without a bird?”
“What’s it to you?” You eyed him, “And maybe it was .”
“You’re a nerd.”
“And you’re a skeleton. Why are we stating obvious facts?”
“Oh my god, you’re priceless.”
“And you’re a skeleton. Why are we still stating obvious facts?”
“Okay fine. You’re cute.” He eyed you, challenging.
“Obviou- oh!” You paused, feeling your face slowly heat up; you stuttered for a moment, and then looked away. You heard him chuckle, and then heard the soft squeak of chair against linoleum. You looked up, eyes widening when you saw him picking up his menu, and casually walk to your table, plopping into the booth across from you. You are stunned to silence.
“Mind if I join you?” Sans mocks, his smile cocky. You just stare at him for a moment, trying to find your voice.
“You... You’re pretty brazen for a man stepping into a new world for the first time in 700 years,” you finally said. Sans just leaned on his hands. You chuckled at him, leaning on your own hands as well.
Maybe the shock was wearing off. Were you free? Was it this simple, just a broken barrier, and suddenly your life is moving forward again? Would you have to start writing again? Would you get to see everyone’s stasis of a life continue?
“Your soul shines like someone one re-incarnation away from Nirvana,” he replies, “How could I not trust that?”
“Oh,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Sure. You knew about souls. You lived in a village made of 75% mages; of COURSE you knew about souls! In fact, humans often had mages call souls out of their chests as a form of divination; Mages knew about LV and EXP, and had a general gist of the idea behind soul colors, but they could not see a soul unless it was called out. You had never gotten your soul looked at. You didn’t want to see what thousands of repeated weeks did to a soul meant to live for only 80 ish years. No thank you, you’d prefer to live in blissful ignorance. But apparently... it meant enlightenment?
“I don’t mean actual enlightenment,” Sans said, “your face says you’re thinking way to hard into that statement.”
“Oh,” you blushed, looking down “Sorry... I’ve just never gotten a compliment like that.” You smiled. “Thank you.” You breathed, a weight you didn’t know was pressed on your chest lifting away. Yes... You could start living your life again. With Monsters!
“Well it’s true,” Sans said, voice calm and cool but also brimming with nervousness. It was nice to see how relatable he was, despite the difference in species. He was practically a human, suffering from the same nerves of being in a new place, talking to a new person, and trying to converse with a stranger. “Your soul looks a thousand years old,” He said, and you felt a bristle of offense, eyes shooting up right as Sans realized his blunder. His hands shot up, “NotlikeyouLOOKathousandyearsold!”
“Too late!” You shot your head away from him, covering it dramatically with the back of your hand. “Oohh woe is me! I look so old!” You wailed, and held back a laugh when you heard Sans groan in embarrassment. “How shall I ever live with this knowleg-” You looked down at Sans, and trailed off, voice reaching no ear but your own.
It had been a very long time since looking at that stainless steel fridge filled you with such remorse.