Work Text:
Thump.
“KRIS! HEY!”
Thump…
“Kris, you BETTER wake up or–”
Only then did Kris’ eyes open. No, it’s not another dream–Susie didn’t go to the door and knock like a normal person. Something’s going on; maybe another dark world already? Or–whatever it might be, Kris burst out of bed before they could consider the other possibilities, scampered toward the window and… met an unbroken blanket of white powder draped over their quiet corner of Hometown. Unbroken and quiet, save for a familiar yet bundled-up figure occupying the yard.
“Hey, Susie… oh…”
“We’re snowed in Kris! No school!”
“Yeah… I’ll be a minute.” They turned away for a second, relenting after reconsidering their friend’s unusual approach. “Why didn’t you go to the door?”
“I don’t know! I was excited and wanted to do the thing! Where, you like, throw something at the window. I know YOU’D sleep in, you–” Kris turned away for real this time, hastily donning their snow pants and some cozy socks before nearly falling down the stairs in their hurried pace. Toriel’s “good morning” elicited only a brief explanation from Kris as they snatched Asriel’s old parka with one hand and seized the doorknob in the other.
“Sorry about that, man. I had…” No one stood in the truncated patch of snowless dirt that had been afforded by the eave.
“...always got me out of bed early! Not for actual school, but not going to…”
“You can stop yelling now. Dummy.” Susie momentarily held still, her eyes pivoting to the door in the same instant. Kris couldn’t help but let slip a gentle smirk.
“H-hi Kris! And Ms. Toriel!” Susie replied, trying their hardest to appear courteous while in the older woman’s gaze.
“You lucky two can go play today,” Toriel explained, “but do stay safe. And let Kris eat their breakfast first.”
“Oh, yeah of course! Can, uh, may I–”
“Yes, please come inside. There’s plenty of pancakes for everyone.” Toriel appended a warm smile to her promise of a hot meal. With a wide and eager step out of the snow and into the doorway, Susie conveyed a profuse thank-you and took a seat at the dinner table, Kris following suit in the opposite chair.
…
“So, Kris,” Susie mouthed in between generous bites, “whaddya wanna do?”
“Sled. Haven’t gone since Asriel left.” Kris subtly gestured toward their mother, implying she hadn’t allowed the activity without a pair of eyes on them.
“You got one?”
“Yeah. Just one.”
“Hah, works for me. I haven’t tried it before. You can teach me the ways… or whatever.” Susie turned toward Toriel, slightly raising their voice, “Is that okay with you, Ms. Toriel?”
Turning away from the sink, the host gave a word of approval before adding, “Remember to watch for the trees, okay? And don’t stay out past noon, there’ll be high winds and snow again before sunset. Just call me if you need to get picked up, okay? Or let me know where you’re staying. Oh and, you both will be needing gloves, so…”
…
Now fully acquainted with the dangers of cold weather, sledding, and snow blindness, the two friends began their trek through the snow, now free to open up the conversation without Toriel’s presence.
Despite that, the silent landscape and travailing through the fresh powder kept their chatting sparse, aside from a colorful story from Kris’ early years. Their first sledding adventure was not mom-approved, as every plea before had been refused. Unsurprisingly, they chose rebellion, crafting a dubious platform of spare planks and duct tape before hiking it to Asriel and Dess’ hill of choice. What wasn’t expected was Kris’ unnoticed escape, which remained that way until Officer Undyne spotted their short figure peeking above the treetops, contraption in hand. Immediately realizing their intent and sprinting off, Undyne made it halfway up the slope until she caught sight of Kris again and shouted a breathy warning (Kris’ impression of the “HAY!” had Susie in stitches). In this very first sled ride, Kris had the honor of outrunning Undyne–another first and likely last–for the whole descent, but not for much longer. Naturally, the story ended there, permitting Susie to bask in the glow of Kris’ brilliance.
“Hah, you really are a bandit!” Susie gestured towards Kris’ scarf, which had been fashioned into a half-mask, leaving little skin exposed below their hair. “I can barely see your face now.”
“Yeah. I wish Tenna’s show gave me a bandana during the cowboy thing.”
“I think Ralsei was the one who really wanted to cover their face.”
“I was… trying not to remember that.”
…
Susie’s first go at sledding remained civil, as she paid careful attention to Kris’ instructions: how to get in, how to brake, how to steer. Of course, civility didn’t survive the Susie Idea.
“Hey, we should make a jump,” Susie blurted, then hesitated for a moment. “And try to hit the mid-air person with a snowball.” An unseen smile crept up behind Kris’ mask, fully visible in Susie’s mind. “Crap–we don’t have a shovel.”
“Noelle’s house has a tool shed. I’ll go.” They did, and made a racket in the process. Susie took the opportunity to make another practice run, concocting a grand plan during the hike uphill. Kris returned with a snide comment: “Better hope you’ve improved since the Werewires.”
“Like you’ll be any better!”
…
“Damn!” A nimble duck foiled Susie’s fourth attempt. It’s not like Kris was doing any better: the “score” remained 0-0. Bowing her head to avoid eye contact, Susie practically had her tail between her legs. Or did she even have one? Kris began to rack their brain, straining to recall various clues and details until a soft, familiar voice disrupted the thought and perked both heads up.
“Um… hey guys.” The troublemakers’ trains of thought instantly derailed, shoved aside by that realized fear of getting caught . Still as the snow-laden trees just behind them, the two stared at Noelle, who stood about ten feet before them, obscuring a third of the Holiday manor’s towering frame behind her. A brief gust of wind stood alone in preventing absolute silence. Wide, unblinking eyes met Noelle’s as she instinctively parted her lips–before she could think of words to break the uncomfortable moment. “You… uh… sure know how to have fun! Faha!”
“Oh.” Susie was the first to respond, while Kris resumed exiting the sled. “We thought we were in trouble.”
“D-don’t worry! My mom still went to work today. I don't know why she didn’t stay, because no one else is…” Her words trailed off into the frigid air. “I, uhm, saw your game. And thought I should say hi.” Kris was no stranger to Noelle’s present expression; the eyes and half-standing fur betray: “I’m making sure you guys are okay.”
“We’re fine,” Kris states, all of their nonchalant dryness returning to them. “You can hang out. Without… doing this.”
“Oh, okay! Thank you!” Relief spread across Noelle’s face, her voice attempting to match just after. “I didn’t see anyone get hit or fall, so… uh, good to know anyway.” Another moment of near-silence passed.
“Hey, Susie. You wanna try to impress her?” Kris challenged, hoping to conclude the awkwardness this time.
“You’re going again? Your loss,” the last word emerging between Susie’s teeth in a sort of hiss. “Just watch!” she gloats, shooting Noelle a cocky look. Apparently, Susie was “going easy” on the brittle human, but their choice to start at the very top of the hill revealed that the sledding veteran had been doing the same.
“Kris always has something planned when they do that.” Noelle’s words elicited no visible or audible response from Susie, who remained laser-focused on finding the perfect angle to intercept the sled’s new route. Now settling into the seat, Kris reclined their head back to meet an invisible lounge chair, arms tucked behind to demonstrate supreme confidence in their speed. Only halfway down and they were already at the previous maximum velocity, and a couple of seconds later, just one clearance remained. They zipped smoothly by the pine’s left side–too smoothly. The tree well fiendishly extended a concealed tendril outward, just under Kris’ path. In a split second barely long enough to comprehend, the sled momentarily left the snow and ever-so-slightly dropped, allowing the nose to dive into the fresh powder before going taut on solid ground, fiercely yanking the rear upright and catapulting the still-reclined Kris into the air. With a muffled splat , their body was pancaked into the snow face-first, limbs splayed out in all directions.
“Kris! Kris, are you ok?” Their hands stirred, fingers clenching into the soft surface below them. For the previous fifteen seconds, they had resigned to their hole of shame–it was comfortable enough, aside from the intrusion of snow into their face, collar, gloves, boots, and every other gap in their clothing. The next sensation was Susie’s tight grasp, peeling them out of their imprint and back into the world of the living. Kris let the scarf fall from the tip of their nose, revealing a defiant smile adorned by half-melted flecks of ice.
“Snow angel. That was my plan.”
“Your plan sucked,” Susie mouthed, “and so does your snow angel. Not much wing going on there.” She spun around, arms outstretched. “Watch the expert, Kris.” After trying to smoothly pivot downwards on her heels, Susie flopped her back into the untouched snow beside Kris’ spot, then aggressively swung her arms to and fro, leaving behind a generously-winged angel. “Now I win.”
“You’re not the only expert, Susie.” In trying to get a reaction out of Kris, Susie failed to notice the resident Holiday champion joining the competition. “And I’m taller than you now, Kris.” Their eyes immediately met Noelle’s after the comment. Both smiled.
“Really? You used to be…” Kris’ mind wandered off as Susie began to think out loud. They removed one of their gloves, revealing the hand underneath, skin blushing from the snowmelt coating their wrist and palm. The inside of the glove wasn’t doing much better.
“Aaand… done.” Noelle carefully stepped out of the hole, leaving all the smooth edges untouched. It was an angel indeed, complete with precisely sculpted proportions and crown-like antlers as a bonus. In the wake of this contender, neither of the other two attempts seemed remotely artful.
“Wow, you can really… you know what you’re doing,” commented Susie. Still, something didn’t sit right with her after comparing the others. “But mine’s, like, hogging all the attention. You know what…” Plating her heftier build over Noelle’s impression, Susie etched out an augmented version of the predecessor, employing much more tact in the process.
A solitary “oh…” escaped from Noelle’s throat, followed by a quiet, trembling breath. Her body assumed an abrupt stillness, a statue hewn from the ground below. Vivid images from years long past clouded her vision. Kris was struck by a creeping sense of familiarity, but couldn’t yet place their finger on any one memory.
“That’s better, I think,” muttered Susie as she rose to observe her edits. “Did I do it right?”
“...Yes. T-thank you,” was all Noelle could manage. Her eyes and head remained fixed on the augmented angel before her. With Susie’s wider legs, it looked more like it was wearing a robe.
“Can we go inside now?” asked Kris, diverting attention from Noelle. They displayed their clammy hand and lethargic fingers to prove the point.
“Oh, gee, sorry Kris!” Noelle snapped out of her brief trance. Still, years had coursed through those halting seconds. “Let’s get you warmed up. I’ll get the fire going, and you grab some towels from the bathroom, okay? You can put the wet things by the hearth…”
…
A healthy color returned to Kris’ fingertips as they held them up to the dancing flames. The image dosed them with wistful nostalgia; they didn’t have a fireplace at home, and their younger self never missed an opportunity to warm up during winter visits to the Holidays. For minutes or even hours, their eyes would hunt for patterns in the blaze, following the edges at the base of each stalk until all the bark turned inky black. Then the logs grew brittle, the natural cohesion of the wood baked away by raw heat. It’d all slowly crumble into coals, embers, and ashes, the flames diminishing into barely-visible wisps. By that time, everyone else was too occupied with socializing or tiredness to throw on more logs. Kris didn’t ever try–they were scared of reaching in. The only thing left to do was watch the dwindling embers and feel the heat dissipate to room temperature. It always happened later in the night, when it was even colder out than before. But… it was probably time to go home after that.
Susie, now wrapped up in a blanket atop one of the armchairs, found a nap more enticing. Since the cushions were large enough to prop up her head, the other two were spared of finding out how far her snoring carried in a spacious house. Noelle was busy fixing up hot chocolate, taking special care to ensure the slimy film topping the liquid didn’t end up in Kris’ mug. She had also microwaved that mug a little, trying to make a decent substitute for the fireplace. Instead of mini marshmallows, she supplied each rim with a homemade mug topper. Kris got the gingerbread man, since they always liked to bite off the head in dramatic fashion. (They didn’t seem to have much sympathy for the fellow human.) These little niceties managed to bring Noelle some solace, but every taste of the past grew bittersweet, no matter how innocent they should have been.
Above the gentle rumbling and crackling of the fireplace, Kris could make out hooves approaching on the kitchen tile. They rose and made for the corner of the couch opposite Susie. “I think it’s still a little too hot, so give it a minute or so,” whispered Noelle, carefully setting the tray on the coffee table.
“You can speak up,” muttered Kris as they plucked the gingerbread man from their mug, “it’ll take more than that to wake her up now.” Nevertheless, they avoided talking at normal volume–possibly more from fear than courtesy. The mug topper received no such courtesy, being forcefully decapitated by act of muscle memory.
“Faha, okay,” said Noelle, a tinge louder this time, “need anything else while I’m up?”
“Myeah.” They paused to swallow. “Is there another blanket?”
“Oh, yes… right here.” Noelle removed a folded blanket from the shelf below the coffee table, handing it to Kris–the good one. She sat down next to Kris as they settled into the corner, but not that close. She’d have to strain to reach her mug, Kris thought.
“Hey, your mug’s over here, silly. Did I scare you?” Kris joked.
“Oh, no, I…” she began scooting over, head angled down toward the floor.
“And this blanket’s really big. You can have some.”
“...ah… thanks,” managed Noelle, briefly smiling at Kris before grabbing her side of the blanket. Both each had another idea on their mind, though, as they each grabbed their mug and took a sip of the just-hot-enough chocolate.
“You know…you make this better than my mom does,” admitted Kris, truly believing the statement.
“That’s probably because we can afford the nice hot chocolate… the kind that comes in real flakes and not powder. My mom buys it from this catalog where everything is crazy expensive, and when I’m in college, I can’t be getting any of this stuff…” Noelle spaced out into various wonders and anxieties about college and the future.
“Hey… at least you might have… me,” cooed Kris, absentmindedly prodding at Noelle’s prankable instincts.
“Aah! Why did you say it like that?!” Her face loosened after seeing Kris’ “successful prank” expression. “But you’re not wrong, it’s always… better with people you lo—trust.” With the last word, Noelle turned her gaze away, eyes focused on the other end of the couch. Kris took another sip of their drink.
Noelle didn’t say anything.
Kris eventually took another bite of the mug topper, swallowing before speaking this time. “You good?”
“Yeah, I….” Her voice broke slightly, caught by an unconscious sniff. Remaining silent, Kris turned to observe her body language–and nothing they could see indicated “good.” Noelle centered her head, still titled towards the ground. “I…” Kris watched her shoulders raise slightly as her core shook with a sudden tightness, lifting their left hand up in response—
As if some final support pillar had given way, Noelle’s head dropped, soon caught by her hands, palms pressing into her eyes as she broke into a spiraling sob. “I… think–that…” Sharp breaths interspersed each word. “M–my sis-ter would’ve…” Voice faltering again on the penultimate syllable, she continued without breathing,
“.. .really enjoyed today. ”
With no more will to speak, she collapsed into outright weeping.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay…” Kris’ hand instinctively moved past Noelle’s neck and to her far shoulder, pulling her close, “it’s okay…” They fell silent as she let it all out in the crook of their arm. They felt the biting urge to say something, anything of substance, to just show they cared for their childhood friend. For both of them.
…
“...I miss her too.” A halting tone betrayed their earlier display of calmness. Kris’ eyesight similarly lost its focus, making room for visions of the past to occupy. They shuddered with each gradual breath, eyes beginning to water.
She was right. Dess would’ve loved it. It was her sledding spot, anyway. She showed Asriel first, and then Kris would watch while they played in the snow with Noelle. The two older kids always had so much fun together. Susie would’ve fit right in, antics and everything. They would even try going in the same sled together, one holding the other in the arms so they’d stay safe and… and… it seemed so nice, to, to be…
With time, both bodies loosened and brought their lungs under control, returning to each sense one by one. Kris felt fur, well-kept fabric, silky hair, all cushioning and blanketing their hand and fingers. They opened their eyes, glancing at the top of Noelle’s head before gazing at the fire. They could hear it, too. They could also smell Noelle’s hair; it had a soothing aroma of freshness rather than some fruity scent. The aftertaste of the gingerbread remained, accented by a hint of cocoa.
Noelle steadily raised her head out of its resting place, revealing a damp region below the shoulder on Kris’ sweater. Her fur just below the eyes accrued a similar darkness; she brought up a hand to wipe the last teardrops clinging to the matted hairs. Her head raised slowly, then fell gently on their shoulder, just a few inches from its previous resting place.
Neither of them said anything, or turned to face the other, or tried to rationalize their actions. This was a long time coming, and today happened to be the day it all broke through. They didn’t need to say anything: every little cherished thing about Dess that ached in their memories was still there. It was terrifying, really–to confront that bottomless pit, the one from which no light could escape. So the two covered it up, and tried, tried so hard to keep on living, clinging to whatever distraction in life could keep them away. But only when that grip weakened from the gradual pull of fate could they start to see the missing piece–and it was remarkably simple–although the vision was hazy in their minds. They just needed to have each other. Every instinct told them to keep it in, to not burden their friend, to not rouse more pain, and for years those instincts were indomitable! But… as fate would have it, happenstance pushed them together, so close that they couldn’t evade the truth any longer. It’s not like the ache had suddenly faded, or that the hole was instantly mended. It was the beginning. The beginning of the end.
…
It wasn’t fair to say one leaned on the other. They leaned into each other, held up stronger than they ever could’ve been alone.
Some amount of time passed while the requisite emotions took their course. Time did not flow in the normal sense; it slid without friction until they were done, ready to turn back to the world before them. And when that time came, without any apparent cue, they simultaneously turned to each other and embraced. They held tight–as tight as their bodily strength allowed, to be forever bonded and inseparable in spirit. Not like it used to be all those years ago, no. They were stronger, and stronger only together.
…
All remained perfectly still in silent requiem, the two finally having clasped hands across the great divide. Until… oh man, what if Susie saw them?
“Mmh… we should… before Susie sees us.”
“Yeah.” Kris peered over at the still-slumbering beast, then smiled. “Snoozie.” Noelle giggled, lifting herself off the couch with the sudden burst of energy. Never one to awaken hastily, Kris rose in a much more gradual process, making sure to grab a sip of (not-so) hot chocolate on the way. “You… doing better?”
“Yeah… I think so. Are you?”
“Yeah.” With the slightest bit more light on their face, Noelle could make out the rosy blush over Kris’ cheeks. Her lips curved upward in a slight smile; more than anything, she took solace in seeing her friend’s happiness, one conveyed through an expression she thought only existed in decade-old memories.
A muffled howl emanating from the window broke the brief silence, drawing both pairs of eyes. They could barely see half as far as they could in the morning, and a constant peppering of snow randomly blotted the glass. “Oh. I should call my mom,” explained Kris, “she asked me to if I got stuck somewhere.” They reached for their cell phone, extracting it from their pocket. “But… I like being stuck here,” they smiled, catching Noelle off-guard despite the intimacy just seconds ago.
“...uh, faha! Looks like you’ve got to… to, uh…” She couldn’t piece the thought together before Toriel picked up. Kris gave their location, confirmed Susie was with her, acknowledged the weather report, then hung up.
“I might have to stay the night here. If your mom’s okay with that.”
“OH.” Noelle’s composure failed yet again. “I think–I hope–it should be fine. W-with her.”
“That probably means Susie too.” Concern washed over Noelle’s previous demeanor.
“That’s… more difficult.” She paused to think. “I’ll see what I can do.”
With palpable apprehension, Noelle reached for the home phone, then dialed her mother’s office at the town hall. She gave the usual greeting, confirmed that everything was okay, and then… paused. Kris wasn’t sure what exactly to make of her reaction, and she had concluded the call with only an “okay” and a “of course.” Still, she didn’t seem bothered, just confused.
“You didn’t mention us?” Kris inquired.
“No… my mom, she’s not coming home tonight.” A mirror image of that neutral confusion appeared on Kris’ face. “She says she can stay somewhere else for the night without going all the way home. She’s, uhm, never done that before. And she didn’t say where. But it’ll only be us here.”
“...Huh.” That was all Kris could manage. “Wait.” They frantically drew their phone from their pocket, nearly dropping it to the floor while attempting to dial home. “Yes, I’m good to stay here for the night. Okay. Bye.” A heavy sight of relief followed the disconnect tone. “No way.” They grinned how only a teenager who got away with it could, excitedly pointing at Noelle. “You ARE stuck with me.”
“Faha! Don’t forget about Susie!” giggled Noelle, before remembering the sleeping situation and lowering her voice. “You’re gonna have to watch out!”
“Really…?” Kris pressed, subtly leaning forward as they drew out the middle syllable. An unsupervised sleepover was a dream scenario for the Kris of years past. Devious plans that had been collecting dust in their memory returned to the spotlight, but… they should probably enjoy time together while they had it. “But actually, what you wanna do?”
“Hey, actually… I’ve got something.” Excitement was apparent in Noelle’s beckoning tone. “I found this CRAZY video when I was on the school computer yesterday. But it was way too much to watch at school, so I’ve been holding onto it.” The two had already begun to make their way to the stairs. “And I think it might be kinda scary, so… I wanted to watch it with someone else.” Kris couldn’t help but smile: she had been waiting for them–and probably didn’t find it “yesterday.” It also sounded like a Susie thing.. She’d have to wait, though.
…
“Okay… this looks like the right one.” Noelle clicked on the video and opened it in fullscreen. One arm on the chair next to them, Kris leaned in closer as they realized it wasn’t a video of real life, but an animation. All the characters had simplified bodies, with hands feet not visibly attached to any limbs, as well as a cross in place of normal facial features, like they were still being drafted. Set in a grayscale landscape with scarlet skies, a ninja-like “protagonist” infiltrated a nondescript facility guarded by hordes of homogenous agents. The protagonist’s stealthy entrance turned into a rampage, interrupted by the grisly “savior,” who bore a halo atop his head and wielded supernatural powers. Despite reviving the dead agents as zombies, the savior was forced into single combat by the lone warrior. Meanwhile, Kris hadn’t found an opportunity to comment or check Noelle’s reaction, as the non-stop action demanded their complete attention. And not to mention, it was a Susie thing indeed, replete with gory details and superhuman displays of martial prowess.
The two characters’ climactic battle was cut short by the appearance of a third party: the “clown.” Also seemingly undead, he flaunted uncanny strength and powers, but used only a stop sign and fists in combat, making short work of the savior with them. Even though the protagonist inflicted mortal wounds on the clown, it defied all logic and continued to fight with the same ferocity, thereafter slaying the protagonist in a particularly brutal and abrupt fashion.
“Eek!” Noelle cried out as the protagonists’ masked head was torn from his body. Subtitled with the text “CLOWN KILLS YOU!!!!!” the villain turned to face the viewers, celebrating its macabre victory. Kris flinched as they felt Noelle suddenly clutch their side with both arms, jumping at the fourth wall break.
“It’s not real ,” Kris proclaimed, pausing the video to prove their self-evident point.
“B-but I was scared, okay?!” Noelle’s eyes did half the pleading.
“You wanted to be scared. I know your games. Freak.” The deer girl was utterly helpless, and certainly looked the part. “You’re just… not COOL enough to appreciate the action like me and Susie.”
“Nooooooo!” wailed No-elle, melting from Kris’ unflinching cruelty. “You’re so mean!” Still, they couldn’t bring themselves to push her away. It was–a strange situation, really. It gave Kris pause: what were they and Noelle now? Friends, sure, but she wanted to be physically close with them, and they couldn’t deny enjoying it either (despite their uncomfortable posture). However, Kris was well aware that they were spacing out, and managed another sentence to prevent things from getting truly awkward.
“You said it, though. Only I know how weird you are.” Noelle’s grip loosened.
“Huh… maybe Susie too.”
“We’re all weird.”
“Faha! It’s our specialty.” She paused to ponder whether that actually meant anything.
“I think she’s still sleeping. Wanna go do something weird?”
“Oh, um… keep it civil, Kris.” Having now stepped out of her chair, Noelle powered down the computer and headed for the stairs with Kris. The prankster carefully stepped down the stairs, peeked around the corner into the living room, and–tilted their head back in audible disappointment. Susie was in the opposite end of the house, helping herself to goodies from the Holidays’ snack selection.
“Kris! Yo, Kris! You gotta try these! I don’t know what they’re called, but–”
“You didn’t even ask if you could have them.”
“Uhm, it’s okay! Those are out on the counter, for gue–for everyone,” Noelle interjected, now leaning out behind the shorter Kris.
“Yeah, Kris. Have one.” The others could make out what she had been scarfing down when they entered the kitchen.
“Those are dried apricots.” Noelle glanced down at the charcuterie, which was untouched save for the apricots. Susie probably didn’t know what most of the other things were called, either.
“Mm. Pretty good.” Noelle stood in silence as the others finished off the dwindling apricots. “But, I’m like, actually hungry,” mumbled Kris, mildly disappointed that the new snack had left so soon.
“Oh, right! We’ll have to make dinner on our own.” The prospect raised Noelle’s spirits. “I think I can fix up…”
“We can help,” offered Kris with a warm smile. When the Dreemurs and Holidays had group dinners, the parents would always work together, contributing their own recipes passed through the generations and ambitious dishes from high-end cookbooks. Every one of those nights were unique–special in their own right. It’d been years since Kris had a meal like that. However, one person in the room didn’t have any such nostalgia.
“Uh… I don’t… I’ve never actually cooked anything.” Susie’s gaze alternated between the two others. Apparently she didn’t truly finish the pie with Toriel, and she might as well have had her hands held through the whole thing, so it doesn’t really count–well, that was Kris’ best guess of her thought process.
“We can teach you! Everyone’s gotta learn!” Noelle’s beaming positivity was too potent to refuse.
“O-okay, uh, just make sure I don’t hurt myself or something.”
“You get to smash things sometimes. It’s fun.”
…
“When do I know it’s boiling?”
“When the bubbles come up. Once they’re going fast, then it’s ready.”
…
“Geez… the onion thing is real. Ow.”
“Wait, don’t touch your eyes! It only–”
…
“Now we wait until all the chunks melt.”
“Dang. It smells good.”
“You gotta keep stirring, Susie.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“I’ll do it like a battle. [ACT] STIR.”
“I GET IT!”
“Krismas! You get to order her around enough, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll make you do it instead.”
“No! Noelle, I’ll… I’ll do it for you… ”
“T-THANK YOU!?”
“...All according to plan.”
…
Susie carefully placed the dish in the center of the oven, feeling the heat creep behind the edges of each mitt. Once it dropped from her grip, she quickly withdrew her arms, turning to the others for approval. “15 minutes, right?”
“Yup.” Kris had already set the timer. Noelle shut the oven as Susie removed the gloves, inquisitively grasping the warmed rubber on the exterior.
“So… I did good?”
“You did great!” Kris seconded with a satisfied nod.
“Gotta try it first, though.” The truism didn’t sit right with Susie. “But really, you guys are the dream team. I only slowed you down. You guys, uh, did this in the past?”
“No, our parents did the work. We were young and…” Unable to complete the sentence, Noelle’s words faded to a whisper at the end.
“Hah, if you’re this good together, Berdly must’ve really kept you from partnering with Kris, huh?”
Neither Kris nor Noelle could bring themselves to attempt any sort of response.
“...Okay. I guess I would’ve… I’ve gotta use the bathroom, actually,” managed Susie, successfully removing herself from the conversation.
The others still avoided speaking, trading eye contact in place of comments. She saw something different there. In how they… acted around each other? Carried themselves? Could she see… what might… slip by their subconscious? The silent exchange lasted only a few seconds before the two started busying themselves to look normal. Kris checked their phone to see if they missed any voicemails; Noelle peered out the window to check back on the weather: same as before. Once again, a gust’s dampened howl staved off absolute silence.
“We should light the fire. The cold will start coming in.” Mention of the fire got Kris perked up again–it seemed they’d be learning something too.
“Oh yeah.” They hastened to the hearth, then crouched down and peered into the smattering of ashes on the bricks below. “I always thought this thing was cool.”
“We need tinder to start a little fire before the logs go,” explained Noelle, reaching for a starter stick. “These are, uh, easier.” With a sparking burst, the red-coated edge produced a pilot flame, which Noelle delicately positioned on a pile of bark. Soon enough, the tinder was potent enough to ignite the logs, and Kris was studying the frontlines of flame, their conquest over the logs accelerating with every passing moment.
“...So you still think it’s cool?”
“Yeah.”
…
“Well, I’ll leave you to–”
“Wait.” Kris broke their stare. “How do you keep it going? Put another log on?”
“Oh, well, you just grab another, and toss it in. But it probably won’t be in the right place, so you need this,” Noelle explained further, grabbing the poker. “You try.” Kris gripped a medium-size piece with both hands, heaving it into the center of the fireplace. It pushed the burning logs out of its way, sending embers aflutter with its unceremonious landing. Nothing resembling the original structure was left behind. Kris winced.
“Crap.”
“It’s okay! Take this.” Reaching for another metal implement with one arm, she handed Kris the poker with the other. “Now we put them back together.” The pair set about finding new places for each log, lifting heavy pieces jointly with the two tools and pivoting the burning sections as needed. After a minute or so, a new grouping took shape, where the glowing pile at the center was cocooned by a boxy, self-reinforcing frame. Plus, the topography made it easy to introduce more fuel when needed.
“That’s better.” Kris sat back up to observe the full picture.
“See? You’ve got it.”
“Only because of you.”
“Okay, then WE did it–silly.”
“Yeah…” This time, Kris caught themselves before their gaze upon the fire grew into a stare. “Let’s go set the table.”
…
“Damn, this is good.” Susie had finished half her (first) bowl before opening her mouth for anything besides another bite. Kris’ comments stayed in their head: something about the varying notes of pepper and chiles, how the selection of cheeses bound all the flavors together. Such pretty sentences seemed to always dance about in the quiet of their mind, but they rarely conveyed them to the outside world, if at all. All this internalization–it confused Kris more than anything. They came here to have fun with friends, to forget things for a while and live in the moment, if they really had to list their motivations. Even so, every other moment was giving them pause, harkening back to some wistful sensation or that intangible shadow of what things used to be . And here was Susie, a control to observe in contrast to their reactions, spotlighting just how benign these little distractions were. It shouldn’t–can’t be that big of a deal, right? And yet, Noelle and Kris snapped like twigs in front of each other. Those memories of Dess and Asriel and those idyllic years were etched into the deepest caverns of their memory, but only here and now did they come roaring back in a strident recapitulation. There was something missing, something they had to find to see the dissonance fit into the harmony.
“See? It’s better when you put your own work into it.” Noelle seemed to be keeping steady thanks to Susie’s high spirits, but Kris only had one leg past the door.
“Yeah.” An actual thought rested on the tip of Kris’ tongue–something about how Toriel’d be happy to show her more or have help–but every conscious second passed sluggishly, chewed to bits by their psyche before they could react with the typical speed. What would Susie actually think of that comment, or Noelle? Was it shutting her out? Well, probably not, but it’s weird to volunteer help from someone else to your mom before your own, and what was Noelle actually thinking here, like was her face also coming off as genuine and–it was too late at that point. Kris barely got any words in during the meal; they tried to hastily process the ongoing situation and events of the day, having pushed it all back until now. Everything had to be okay, and just one slip-up could break the tenuous peace that they and Noelle had willed into existence earlier. Heaven forbid it happened in front of Susie–the thought of burdening her with everything that had split the families was too much to bear. And it was essential, absolutely essential, that Noelle did not experience any pain that she could avoid. They deserved to take the pain, they decided, having run from its specter and cowered all these years. But… how? Nothing echoed from within the hole, not a trace of resonance to be found. But that was their own problem, and they just had to make sure everything was right for the others. Everything had to be okay so that they could say it was.
So that’s what Kris did. They watched the video again with Susie this time. She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen, either. They ate gingerbread for dessert, and chocolates too. Everyone tried to guess what the fillings were inside each little treat. They told jaunty stories of times past, just like they’d talk about this day in years to come. Noelle was curious to hear about the quirks of city life from Susie. They threw out ideas of what to do the next day if school got canceled again. Somehow, the two guests managed to avoid the temptations of pranks, destruction, or destructive pranks. They let time melt by into the late night as they drove all their remaining energy into video games. In only a handful of matches, Susie proved to be a promising talent for Super Smashing Fighters.
It was perfect. Blissful. Dreamlike. Idyllic. Truly wonderful. And yet…
There came a time when it was over.
…
“Kris?” Noelle’s whisper cut through the still air. They were about to tuck themselves into their cozy little spot on the couch, and Susie was once again out cold on the armchair. That voice from behind the couch sent a jolt throughout their nervous system–had they missed something? Something was still wrong? It just hadn’t been good enough? Still, Kris managed to channel their flinch into a turning motion, enough to make eye contact with the tall girl behind them. In a split-second judgment, they confirmed their fears: she hadn’t come down to bid them goodnight some second, secret time. That subtle tightness in the skin and muscles behind her fur was all Kris needed to see.
“...Yeah?”
“Can we talk? In my room?” Her pupils, widened from the darkness, held a brewing sea of fear and apprehension. Kris mumbled an affirmation and sat up, making for the stairs with their head hung low. In the moment, the walk up the staircase felt as if it lasted an hour, but in memory, the transition was nearly instant. Noelle sat on her bed instead of the couch; that was where everyone had just been, squeezing in one last round of SSF before calling it a night. Kris took a seat to Noelle’s right, and her head maintained a similar slant towards the floor in a transient pause. When Kris looked up, she was gazing right back at them, pupils more clarified, if only by a slight margin. She turned back and took a deep, hushed breath.
“I know both of us are…” A precise word eluded her. “...going through a lot.” She exhaled. It was just barely audible. “And I know I can never really feel what it’s like for you, but… I know myself. I know what these years have been for me.” Kris’ thoughts remained in tension, still uncertain of what had truly brought them to this room.
“All these years I’ve been, just, with my family, the only people close to me–after we stopped coming to see each other. We all grieved together, but it was… different for me. I had always thought that if someone would be with me in a time like this, it would be Dess. But when that time came… she was the one we cried so many tears for.” Noelle’s voice shook with the last few words. She looked back to Kris’ eyes, which bore a faint glimmer over the black and crimson.
“I didn’t think I could ever ‘move on.’ I thought that part of you would be missing forever, and that’s how it is for the rest of your life. The memories are the only thing left.” Silence took over as one of those countless visions from the past washed over her. For Kris, a tinge of hope prodded at the looming dread. She wasn’t here just to tell them that she was still mourning. “When you’re here, here with me and reliving those same memories… it’s different now. Different from how it’s been for all this time. When I have your shoulder, I know that… you’ve been able to make friends with Susie, and bring us all together… that we can make something new. Something that really matters. We can live like Dess wanted us to. Happy. In loving arms. Together, not growing farther and farther apart. It would make her happy too, knowing we’ve had all this.” For a hazy second, the slightest of smiles formed on Noelle’s lips; then, her stare and demeanor grew a focused intensity. “Kris, can’t you see it too?” She leaned in and clasped their hand, imploring them to listen with all they could muster. “I can’t know what it’s like for you, but having you with me is the difference. It’s the only way that I could look forward, and–and there's a new and beautiful future. I could see it, Kris. I could feel it, like I felt my fur and hair and lips and tears against your sweater. There’s something about you that’s different now–when you’re with Susie, or with me now, or both of us. It’s like the light shines on you differently. Or–no, it’s how the light is reflected. You’re not aimless, not thrown about by the wake of your brother and everyone else slipping away from you. I felt that way too, and it changed. By the slightest and most precious bit.” Noelle’s tone was almost desperate, so close to that seemingly impossible end. Kris felt like it was impossible to blink or breathe: it was almost their time. “Please, Kris. Tell me that you can see it too. Or however you feel it. Just that… when we’re together it’s…”
Kris leapt across the gap into the most intense embrace they ever gave, releasing all their constrained energy into a blanketing hug. The two were momentarily suspended at an angle, a kinetic snapshot that dissipated just an instant later as they collapsed onto the bed, Kris’ head now buried into the warm nook below Noelle’s chin.
They weren’t one for words. A lone “yes” or some equivalent didn’t sit right. They simply thought of the one thing they wanted to do more than anything else–and acted with all the will within their spirit. The squeeze made it hard for Noelle to say anything, and of course, she squeezed back. With arms cocooning the two together, warmth passing from one to the other, they perceived no other sensation: an untarnished, flawless moment. The memory was imperishable.
In spite of Kris’ unyielding grip and her tearful breath, Noelle mustered enough strength to whisper a handful of words. Every syllable resonated with absolute clarity, pure as the white of the snow and the black of the night that enveloped it:
“I love you, Kris.”
She didn’t know what those few words really meant, not in any way she could ever explain. All she knew–and Kris too–was that it was true. They needn’t say anything else. It was time for bed, anyway. Falling asleep wasn’t particularly difficult, either. They’d be dozing off long before they could ever finish counting each little thing that made that moment eternal…
There was the hole again. Noelle was there, too. It wasn’t as quite as foreboding as it had been before, especially with someone else around. Still, it had not changed form; it was the same size, and no light seemed to escape. Noelle also saw the hole. She stared intently. Kris examined her, and then the surface they both stood on. It hadn’t really crossed their mind before. They could see it was a sort of faded red, with a subtle grain in the layer below. Crouching down and reaching out a hand, their splayed fingers met the flat plane, solid and lacquered. They stood back up. Noelle was looking their way, and she pointed back towards the hole.
“There’s something over it.” Her voice was without echo.
Kris squinted their eyes. In just the slightest change in hue, there was a faint streak of grey suspended across the hole. They stepped forward and found the streak once again. In fact, there were several, all of them unique and just slightly different in thickness and color from the others. They could barely make out the thinnest one. Just as they counted the final strand, they began to discern a noise, one so muted that it was more felt than heard. The more they listened, the louder it grew. For a minute or so, it was only a vague tone that sounded, but it would gradually change with time. Kris, with enough concentration, could try to match it to a note they recalled from a piano’s keyboard, but the tones kept changing faster. There were actually multiple tones at once, a chord. Maybe they should try finding the root now, they thought–but in their peripheral, a sudden change in Noelle’s disposition stopped them. She hadn’t moved her eyes, but she could see something new, and now Kris could too: the strands, no, strings, they were vibrating. Unseen fingers reached down from above. They pulled the strings and made them ring. Together, they shaped those chords, resonating with sweet consonance and biting dissonance alike. And together, those sounds blended, and made a bittersweet harmony, and it was new and beautiful. It was something neither Kris nor Noelle had quite heard before, but it was unmistakably familiar to both. Kris looked up. They held their head high enough to see where the worn red met the blank horizon in a winding contour. Following it to the right, they saw the curve deepen towards them, then it sharply turned into a straightaway bridge, where they could make out the strings again. When they strained to see as far down the neck as they could, they could perceive a second movement in the strings, another unseen hand pressing them down in sequence with the melody. The music’s volume and tempo no longer shifted, as both were in their true and final stage. Kris turned their gaze back to the hole. Each vibration resonated within them, its own essential element of the musical picture before them. Noelle reached out her hand, and Kris did too, at what felt like the exact same time. Their fingers intertwined. From just the slightest motion, Kris could feel Noelle’s shoulder relax. They exhaled with contentment, chest falling alongside the reverberation of a fading chord.
Two figures stood before the precipice. They once regarded this place as an inkwell of darkness, drawn to its oceanic black by the same gravitational pull that swallowed the light. Only in union did they have the strength to look away, to see, and to feel. Together, they came to realize the light. Together, they discovered harmony in the dark. Together, they closed their eyes,
and together, they listened.