Chapter Text
It was late. The sun was already sneaking its way back down and past the horizon, casting a golden hue to gradient across the sky, shining into Kris's room. They were exhausted; mind, body, yet not soul. Still, like they had been since Toriel woke them up, they were taking a secondary role in their own body. Forced to say things they wish they wouldn't, unable to eat anything filling, being dragged around to talk to everyone in town... their throat felt sore. When they were eventually dragged towards their bed and the option to sleep was accepted, Kris's body was finally able to move on its own and into the assurance of their old mattress and reliable comforter. For the time being, they were actually able to lie down and rest. There was no feeling of being watched. In fact, a different feeling took over.
A feeling of nostalgia.
It was nights like these where Kris thought of her. When their legs were tired from running, their eyes were struggling to stay open, and their chest was tight from laughter (although, tonight it was tight for a different reason). Quietly - as not to disturb the soul - Kris rolled over, eyes opening as if expecting to see someone there. To see the back of someone's head, brown hair sprawled out along the extra pillow Toriel had provided for her. Kris stayed curled in on themself, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over them. Their hand tightened its grip on their gray comforter, roughly yanking it up and over their head as if to try and hide from the complicated feelings. Sadly, it didn't seem to help much.
Memories of the two settling in the living for a sleepover wracked through their brain. The Pixar movies the two would watch, how she always got teary-eyed at both Toy Story 2 and 3. The struggle fighting against a boss in Dragon Blazers, staying up a little bit later thanks to Toriel's leniency. The way the two would challenge each other to see who would stay up the longest. Somehow, she always won - which was confusing, because she was also the first one awake in the morning. They'd wake up on the couch, tiredly rubbing at their eyes as she met them with a knowing, almost taunting smirk from the dining table.
These memories were like a lullaby, almost. If it weren't for the aching loneliness that filled Kris. They wondered if she still beat them at their little challenge of staying up, if she was still wide awake while they were losing consciousness. They wondered if she was thinking of them like they thought of her. As Kris felt their body slowly give into their exhaustion, eyes too weak to flutter open, they wondered if this time she'd be the one to lose.
There was once a moment in time where Kris wasn't the only human in Hometown. Where down in the apartments a human family of three lived together. It seemed this was the time Kris's dreamscape decided to take them to.
Kris stood there, hands nervously tugging on Toriel's skirt as her paw gently set itself down upon Kris's tiny little head.
"Kris, sweetie, why don't you go and play? If you need me, I'll be in the next room over talking with Mrs. Poeh," Toriel urged Kris, smiling as their hands slowly let go of her dress and instead latched onto their own sweater. They lifted their head slightly, feet finding their way along the carpeted floor and down an unfamiliar hallway. They stopped in front of a door, white pettled flower stickers decorating the wood of the door. Hesitantly, their hand reached up towards the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open. Kris paused when their eyes landed upon another kid around their age. Her hair was brown and rested at shoulder length, although it puffed out slightly more near the ends. They could only see the back of her, along with her left hand that pushed a toy car across the carpet. Kris continued to stand there silently, eyes staying locked on the flesh of her hand. That was something they had only really seen on themself. Not fur, not scales... skin.
Feeling as if someone were watching her, the girl's movements stilled and her head turned. Green eyes met Kris's overgrown bangs, glancing them over quickly. Kris's shoulders tensed, hands clenching into fists, their eyes locking on her face as if it were their sole mission in life. For a second, they forgot how to breathe. Without missing a beat however, the girl lifted the car and held it out.
"Did you wanna play?"
"..."
Kris stared at the car as if it were something foreign. However, the girl didn't let up. She continued to stare, eyes holding no judgement.
"If you don't like the color, I have another-" the girl's arm began to retract. In quick succession, Kris's hand darted out and took the car from the girl. She jumped ever so slightly, but after processing what had just occurred, she couldn't help but smile, "You must really like the color green, huh?" Must be why they couldn't help but stare at her eyes.
Kris slowly began to lower themself to the floor in front of the girl, gently running the toy car's wheels over the palm of their hand. In the girl's right hand was a Barbie doll, hair neatly brushed.
"My name's Jasmine."
"...Kris."
Jasmine's eyes raised to meet Kris's bangs once again, a smile growing wide on her face, "Well, you have my dollie's car," Jasmine pointed out. Kris seemed to grin at this, pulling the car a bit closer.
"If she wants it back, she's gonna have to fight for it."
"Or call the cops?"
"I cut the landlines."
Jasmine snorted, "I don't know what that means!!"
The two got along impressively. It didn't take long for Jasmine to wriggle herself into Kris's every waking moment. What started as every Friday soon changed to the two finding a way to see each other every day. It, of course, was a lot easier to do this once school started. Jasmine sat to the right side of Kris in class, making it easier for the two to talk and, of course, get in trouble. There was one point Jasmine was moved to the back corner of the room to keep the two from chatting, but this resulted in the passing of notes, which helped to put the two right back beside each other.
The week the two had been switched back to being seated by one another was the same week when Kris had gotten so sick that they were sent to the hospital. They were nine, sniffling and coughing, a cold, wet rag resting across their forehead. They had forgotten why Toriel had left the room. Maybe to use the bathroom, maybe to get them some food, or maybe just to go back home and check on everything. The details had been lost to time... except for the knock that came from behind the door to their room. Kris weakly invited them in, assuming maybe it was one of the nurses coming in to replace their rag. However, instead of locking eyes with the familiar bunny nurse, Jasmine stood there instead.
"Jas...?"
"My dad told me you were in here," Jasmine spoke casually, shutting the door behind her as she stepped into the room.
Right. Her dad was the chief hospital administrator... whatever that means. Just sounds important.
"Why are you here?" Kris asked, confused. Jasmine grinned, pulling one of the chairs closer to the side of the hospital bed.
"I come here on the weekends. I like to give the patients company," Jasmine explained.
Kris let an exhale of air escape from their nose, "So that's why you didn't hang out last week..."
"And I'm glad I missed last week. Dess told me you were making mud pies and actually eating them," Jasmine spoke, offering a fake gag to really seal the deal in how disgusted she truly was, "Y'know, that's probably why you're here right now." Jasmine reached forward to grab the rag off from Kris's forehead, hopping off from her chair and walking towards the sink.
"No... I think I'm actually here because I ate one of the crayons from the drawer," Kris admitted, the sound of water running filling the room.
"Oh."
"The green one."
"I... don't think that much matters."
"Just wanted you to know." Kris shrugged.
The two sat in silence as Jasmine rewet the rag, turning the sink off as she wrung it out. Jasmine carefully folded it back up, approaching Kris and pushing their bangs back before placing the cold rag gently upon their forehead, "Though... maybe the fever is from the mud pies."
"Yeah... maybe," Kris grumbled softly, eyes fluttering shut as they relished in the cold sensation across their forehead. Jasmine sat back down, crossing her arms along the bed and resting her head within them. Despite their eyes being closed, Kris knew she was staring at them. It was hard to ignore the feeling.
"What if..." Jasmine began, Kris's eyes gently fluttering open to look at Jasmine. Her eyes immediately locked with Kris's, not daring to look away, "you joined me here every now and then? On the weekends." Kris's brows furrowed ever so slightly, Jasmine taking note and speaking quickly, "I mean- you don't have to go and see the patients with me! But I'm sure they'd love to hear you play the piano!" Jasmine exclaimed. Kris deadpanned.
"There isn't a piano here."
"I know that!"
Kris raised an eyebrow, "You'd make your dad order a piano? Just so I can play?"
"... Would you?"
Kris sighed, unable to bite back the small smile that grew across their face, "Sure."
Jasmine grinned brightly, "Then it's settled! We're getting a piano."
It was when the two turned 11 Jasmine had more of a reason to visit the hospital. Her mother's cancer had come back and even stronger. Her name was in every prayer for the next year. On certain visits, Kris would arrive a bit later and play the piano in the waiting room. Jasmine would sit in a nearby chair, elbows on her knees and head in her hands. Her mother would currently be receiving radiation or going through surgery... at least Kris assumed. All they really knew was that Jasmine wasn't allowed to be in the room. So, to offer some sort of comfort, they'd play for her. Sometimes she'd fall asleep, others she'd weep quietly... but most of the time, she'd sit back quietly and watch their fingers dance across the keys, expression unreadable. It eventually reached a point where Jasmine was called out of school for the next several weeks - just in case something happened and she needed to be at the hospital as soon as possible.
Kris knew what had happened when Toriel got a call from Jasmine's father. When they had gone over with their family to bring dinner and offer some sort of support. She was wearing her mother's turtleneck, green eyes avoiding their red ones. The two sat in silence in her room, a clock quietly ticking in the corner. Their mind was reeling, searching for something- anything to say to her. To let her know they were there.
"It's not fair," Jasmine's voice came out, raw and unpredictable, "she wasn't supposed to die..." Jasmine's hand pushed harshly through her bangs. They were messy, greasy. Her hair, which now went past her shoulders, was in the same state, "She was supposed to be there for my prom... for my graduation, for my wedding-" her voice cracked, breathing in heavily as her eyes shut tightly to try and hide her tears, "I'm supposed to have a mom!" she exclaimed, the palms of her hands digging into her eyes.
Kris's arm wrapped around her shoulders, and in an instant she turned and buried her face into the crook of their neck. They didn't have to say anything to tell her they'd be here. They just squeezed and gently ran their fingers through her hair.
Jasmine moved not long after. Her father couldn't handle the loss; roaming through the halls his wife once used to. He found a new place, around a four-hour drive. When Jasmine first told Kris, their heart dropped into their stomach.
"Moving..? Where?" Kris asked as they stood in the garage, filled with boxes with varying labels.
"I don't know... Springston or something? It's four hours away." Jasmine responded, knelt on the ground as she bubble wrapped pictures before putting them in the box.
"Four hours?"
"Are you going to repeat everything I say?" Jasmine asked teasingly, giggling. However, when she looked up and saw Kris's not-so-amused face, she quickly changed her demeanor, "Hey... I don't want you to think I'm just gonna cast you aside. I'll call every day, yeah? Check in?" Jasmine suggested. Kris went silent, biting their lip.
"But... how will we hang out?" Kris asked quietly. Jasmine offered them a soft smile.
"We'll figure something out, I promise. Probably school breaks, holidays... whenever there's a good amount of time for us to stay for a few days," Jasmine explained, closing the box and taping it up.
"Ok..." Kris muttered, feeling the anxiety in their chest begin to lessen. Jasmine snorted softly.
"Weird to see Kris Dreemurr so visibly worried... I must be special."
"Shut up."
Jasmine did just as she promised. Calling every day around 7 o'clock at night. Same way of saying hello, same tone when asking how they were, same giggling when she hung up. It was almost like nothing had changed... except for the fact they couldn't see the way her nose would scrunch up when she laughed, or how her eyes would twinkle when her voice held that tone she always used whenever gossiping. They missed it all, but her calls were their saving grace. Every day, they looked forward to 7 pm.
Things changed, however. Begrudgingly, but for a reason. They needed the soul. There was no "if" or "but." They needed it. But god... god, did they hate it. Having to sit through the sound of their cellphone ringing, the flashing screen of Jasmine's name. Watching each buzz of a text asking if they were okay or if she had done something. Part of them felt relief when it had finally figured out how to silence calls... but again, there was still that guilt. Still that anger.
Even more so when she finally stopped completely. No more calls, voicemails, texts, hell- even letters! All because of that damned thing. Because without it...
Kris began to toss and turn before they fell out of their bed, panting heavily. They shut their eyes tightly before pushing themself off of their knees and onto their feet. They walked slowly to the middle of their room, head hung low. Their bangs blocked their vision. They finally stopped once they stood in the center of the room. Kris felt nothing but anger in their stomach... in their hands. Their nails dug into their palms before finally, they raised one hand in the air. After making a grabby motion, they plunged their hand deep into their chest. Their mouth fell open, yet no scream fell from their lips. The pain was too much. Pulling their hand out quickly, their soul shone with a soft red and pulsing aura.
With practiced precision, they threw the soul into their birdcage, the door falling close and latching itself. They glared down at the soul. The reason for everything.
Slowly, Kris brought their hand to the oh-so-familiar handle of a knife, pulling it out slowly. They turned it in their hands, grinning as the blade caught the faint light of the moon. Turning their head, they stared at the door of the room, one thing on their mind.
Pie.