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"Y'know, come watch next time. Movies." Is how it started. Simple, sweet, one friend caring for the other. However, this only sparked tension as time went on. Susie had dragged Kris and Ralsei along—or atleast she always made sure that Ralsei got dragged—but everytime she'd return to the 'light world'? Gone. Without a word. No trace of him, no anything. She asked, of course she asked, but he'd always have a reason behind it, or say he got lost on the way. As if that was even possible with how Susie'd began to look behind her to double check on Kris and Ralsei. Not that she'd admit that it was for Ralsei, but it was. She wasn't exactly stealthy about it either. Not with the way she'd make violent turns, commenting on random things - "Hey, doesn't that tree look kinda... like an ass?" - just to hear Ralsei's voice. Even better if it was something he'd react to. To make sure he was there. To make sure she wouldn't be alone.
Yeah, she had Kris. She had Lancer. But Lancer didn't come to the 'light world' either, and Kris? She loved Kris, just as much as she loved everyone else, but sometimes she wondered if Kris was even there. She liked their presence, a lot even, but sometimes sitting with them felt... lonely. Empty. Like she didn't belong, not as a whole. The more time she'd spent with Kris, Lancer, and Ralsei, the more she'd realized how she felt at home. Felt whole. Complete. And to boot, Lancer looked like spades, so there was always some kind of reminder. But with Ralsei? God, what was there? She didn't exactly want to look at sheep all day, or whatever he was; she exactly didn't care either. Point is, she preferred it when everyone was together. When it felt real. When it felt almost like a family. The closest she could ever get to one.
At some point, Susie wondered if Ralsei just had a bad impression of movies? After all, she did imply watching a scary movie. Something out of Ralsei's comfort zone. She tried suggesting taking him to their school—even cracked a joke about making Ralsei do her homework, to which he seemed... awkward about. Every time she thought about his responses, his happiness felt like it was forced. The way he'd smile despite the fact his brows were already knitted together, already playing with his ears nervously, avoiding her gaze; and Kris' gaze. Not that Kris ever stared, but they still carried an intense aura. Looking at them was enough to tell what they were feeling. Most of the time, anyway. Ralsei was easier to read, Kris? Not so much. But Kris was present, Kris had their parents, and their brother. Susie had... the Lightners. Only half of them everytime she returned, but she had them. Everytime she thought about the technical rejections, she'd get mad all over again. Not at him though. At herself. Did she do something to make him uncomfortable? Was she the reason he didn't want to join them? Did he... not like her as much as she liked him? Figures, really. Who'd want to be friends with a hot-headed reptilian like her? Someone with a bad reputation, who also made no effort to fix said reputation, God, she was a stain to all of her friends.
"So there's this... Festival in a few days, right?" A last ditch effort, something to make Ralsei happy. Or, well, what she assumed would make him happy. 'Ralsei... likes bright places, right? He seemed... happy at the carnival.' Yet there was still that lingering fear. The fear that maybe he wasn't happy because of her. It sounded impossible to her, he really did seem happy. Bubbly. Ralsei wears his heart on his sleeve and it'd be easy to tell if he wasn't all there. She kept thinking about it and looping the day up until that familiar anger simmered within her again, up until she was punching walls, squeezing random plushies that Noelle had given her—supposedly because she'd won them at an arcade and her mother wouldn't want her bringing it home—while simultaneously feeling guilty for the way her claws would rip into the plushies.
She watched the stuffing pour out of a tiger plush, watched how the seams easily came apart after the first had already been loosened, watched how the tiger's arm detached from its body. Almost being mesmerised by how such intricately weaved threads would collapse like dominos the moment that it was severed, how all the care that went into stitching the plush together came undone faster than the amount of time it would've taken to prepare the materials needed for the plush. She'd ask Kris to fix it later, but for now? All she could think about was how easily the plush fell apart. How easily she falls apart. How any care she could put into something could just as easily become useless, and while a plush was fixable—she didn't want something she put effort into to be fixed. She wanted it to last. Because if her creations for her loved ones couldn't hold, then why should they hold onto her? To her a breakable plush was the same as saying the friendship was fragile. Did she feel that way about Noelle's gift? No. But if it was hers? Something she'd made? Then it wouldn't be good enough. Susie wouldn't be good enough.
Ralsei, however? Ralsei was already struggling with the guilt of not telling Susie that he couldn't be there for her. Not in the way he wanted, not in the way she wanted, not in the way a friend is supposed to be. Friends are always supposed to be there for you, right? So why couldn't he do that, when that was all he wanted to do? All he found worth in living for? If he couldn't be there for Susie, for Kris—even for Noelle and Berdly—then what use did he have? He was created to wait for them, to fulfill the prophecy with them, to then be discarded once the prophecy ended, but what if he didn't want it to end? Ralsei wanted nothing more than to stay with Susie, to accept her offers, to stay with everyone. But he can't. His role is to be discarded, not to be treasured.
Ralsei is nothing more than a prince. Nothing more than a puppet to the dark world and its prophecy. Nothing more than a character. He should be grateful he was even allowed a chance at life, to have his own conscience, to even be a main part of the prophecy. Lancer? Well, he wasn't supposed to become the Lightner's friends. Not really. The whole thing should've been as simple as: A. The three heroes are established, B. The Lightners and Darkners live in harmony, C. The balance remains between both the light and dark world, in a sense. However as of recent, this was visually becoming more difficult to maintain. Not only were more dark fountains being created, but the Darkners themselves were becoming hostile. Were beginning to follow something else, something that felt neither dark nor light, something that felt unreal. Strong. Dangerous. Ergo shifting his original perspective of the world he lived in, and in turn, making him question his friendships.
If Ralsei were to be honest, he wanted to keep the world peaceful. Wanted to maintain the balance. Wanted to befriend everyone. Not that it mattered if he had friends or not, but for Susie and Kris to have those friends when he inevitably left. He wasn't sure if this idea would work, but he'd attempt it anyway. Anything to ensure their happiness while the world lasted. His own felt irrelevant, and so joining Susie felt like he was dragging her down.
Not that he could join her anyway.
Every invitation would get dodged, ignored, discarded. It wasn't like he didn't care, but he knew he wouldn't be around for much longer—and just as equally knew that he was unable to go to the light world. No matter how much he wished to attend, to accompany her and Kris, to keep his friends happy, he couldn't. Not outside of what he was created for. Ralsei knew it was selfish, to leave without a word, but this felt the best to him. If he left while Susie still felt attached to him, she'd be more mad at him. Would spiral further. To him, this felt the most peaceful. Having Susie hate him, having her be mad, having her rely on Kris instead.
And at the end of it all? He'd sacrifice himself. He was too important to the dark world to be a 'Lightner', but also too important to the light world to be able to go. To be able to be an object like everyone else. To be remembered. He had to be erased someday, so why not do it himself? In hopes that destroying himself would allow the Darkners to be Lightners, or allow for them to be real, or anything that wasn't this. 'Ralsei'? Not needed. Susie and Kris would have everyone else, they didn't need him. Wouldn't need him. They'd have everyone to support them, which was far more than him alone being the supporter. She was his last thought when he sacrificed himself.
Her smile, her laughs, the way she'd made fun of him only to learn to heal afterwards, the way she treated him like a friend. Her friendship meant everything to him. He was content to die with the final idea that he'd at least gotten to be everyone's friend at some point, but especially hers. He didn't die without tears, but he also didn't die unhappily. Didn't leave a note or anything, but left enough of the Darkners around to the point where he felt as though he was there. Ralsei was not his own person. The Darkners weren't him either, but in essence that was all that he was to himself.
Susie? Well, Susie was akin to a swan without their partner upon finding out. She'd spent the last few weeks sketching out and thinking of something to make for Ralsei, something that wouldn't break—but she quickly realized that she wasn't talented enough for that. However she did manage to think of something. A new outfit for him, something to match her and Kris a little more. Something more armor-like, but not too dark. More light. Not as light as his fur, but light enough to convey the way she saw him as—the way he felt like an opening, like something new, like something she could follow and be led astray by, almost like a guardian angel. But the revelation? She let out a bitter snort, and tried to make a dark world of her own. Anything to deny this was a reality. Only to fail, even with Kris' attempts, she failed. And in the end, she lived for him.
Though 'living for him' was subjective. Susie was alive, sure, but she'd become quiet. Her nervous gestures began mirroring Ralsei's—pulling her hair in a way that was more aggressive than Ralsei playing with his ears, biting her nails or fur in places where Ralsei would pick at them, picking fights to lose so that Ralsei couldn't be mad at her for not being kind (according to her)—to a point where Kris got concerned and managed to convince Toriel to let her stay with them. Didn't take much convincing really. She'd always liked Susie, always saw the good in her. So throughout this? Toriel would be there for her, Kris would be there for her, Noelle would be there. Not quite the Darkners, but it would be okay. Kris understood, more than anyone else would. They'd also become a recluse, they weren't as playful anymore. Stuck to themselves, to Noelle, to her. No one else, really. And a part of her was okay with that. Noelle wasn't Ralsei, but she felt just as warm. She would never use Noelle or Toriel as a replacement, but she was glad they existed. Was glad there were people as kind as him. Was glad they stayed, despite how she'd become a wreck. How Kris had become a wreck.
Susie had learnt to crochet, to sew, to make embroidery, and every time the result would be the same. She would always make a Ralsei plush, always talk to him, always act like he was there. Not that this was unusual—she'd always be upset over losing a friend, but this struck her differently. Especially because he was real. More real than he viewed himself. She didn't want to let go, not yet. The plushies she gave to Kris? Noelle always said Kris dressed him to look like Asriel, which made Susie cling to Kris a little more. She was mourning one person, they were mourning one and missing another. This line of thinking was enough to make her stay. To not join Ralsei. She didn't want more people to be mourning, didn't think it'd be cool of her either. So she stayed. Tried to get better, tried to make a grave for Ralsei. Anything to properly mourn him, to properly be able to move on. But she couldn't, and that would be okay for now.
They would be okay for now.