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A glimpse of a fang. The lake in the rain. Gold hair catching sunlight. Their own irrevocable dishonesty. Kris once made eye contact with Noelle over the back of Susie's head. Both of them immediately looked away. Put together, these facts made something clench inside them.
Was that sick?
Maybe. But so little of Kris could have been classified as "healthy" that it wasn't even worth thinking about.
It was late. They’d dropped Susie off at home, unsurprised that it was Castle Town. She wanted Noelle to join them, tomorrow. That had caused the same stomach swooping guilt that they’d felt when their father called them courageous. He wouldn’t be proud if he knew everything, and Noelle…
The house was quiet tonight. Moreso than usual. Kris knew it was an apology from their mother. The star Susie had hung above their bed glowed in the dark. Kris stared at the light above them and let their thoughts wander. As long as they didn’t think too hard about the plan, they would be all right.
They weren’t sure, entirely, if the SOUL could hear them—it didn’t seem like it, sometimes, but at other points it felt like it knew too much. Like at the hot spring with Susie. It shouldn’t have known about their feelings, and yet…
Kris locked their joints and pretended to be a stone. Stones didn’t have stomachs that could ache, or a face that could heat. Stones were good, even if they were sometimes foxes.
It didn’t work. Their mind wandered, or they forced it to wander. Anything but this. Anything but today.
Their mother sent them to help out Asgore in Flower King from time to time. She didn't like thinking about him, but she also didn't like the thought of Kris getting too estranged from him. That day, Kris had been tasked with finding the right size pot for a customer's overgrown Ficus. Apparently, he liked to lick the water off the leaves? Kris didn't question it.
They had been going through Asgore's supply nursery pots and cover pots and terracotta pots and self-watering pots and propagation pots to find the right type and size for the root ball when they had accidentally stuck their hand into a tiny ceramic pot that hadn't been cleaned properly. After they set it down, they noticed a dark smear on their fingers.
At first, Kris thought it was just dirt, but it clung to them, thick and sticky like molasses. They picked the pot back up—getting the gunk on the ceramic in the process—and saw that the entire inside of it was coated. If Kris was younger, there would have been plenty of opportunities for such a substance, but those had long since disappeared.
They'd washed their hands after, but they could still imagine the sludge's texture if they tried. They asked Asgore about it after—apparently, it was some kind of mold. He'd sighed when he said it, probably anticipating cleaning them out all night. He had wrinkles between his brows now, or at least, they'd deepened.
Kris looked away.
Regarding Susie—they were under no impression that this was molasses.
They grit their teeth. It was a bad habit but it felt good to do something with their jaw that was their own.
Before today, they'd hoped against hope that she’d…
Kris shut their eyes. It was embarrassing even to think about. Ralsei knew. They didn't know why they were so surprised at that. He knew everything.
The soul had made the three of them climb on a toy train today, in the middle of being chased by Orange. The room was blocked off by a screen Kris had broken by deflecting one of Orange’s flying gloves. The soul was always after things like that. Hidden rooms and collectibles and secrets. Kris would mind less if the secrets didn't try to kill them, but—well. It was more time with Susie and Ralsei, wasn't it?
Ralsei had said Susie might have been Kris' first chu. It was so cutesy for something so impossible, for something that made Kris want to tear out the soul and do something incredibly stupid, like be honest with her. And then he'd winked. That had made them stare.
Did Ralsei even wink that often? He had earlier, talking about the statue in Susie's room—about Noelle's tastes. For big, strong, beautiful lizards, specifically. Susie hadn’t gotten the wink then, either, thank god.
Kris buried their face in their arms. Of all the things to focus on. Tonight was the fifth night of the plan. Susie wasn't stupid. She was catching on. And when she did...if they had eaten anything more than an onion-flavored octopus roll and blood punch, they would have thrown up.
They had to keep quiet, though. For her.
And yet—despite everything—their mind gravitated backward to Susie. To Noelle.
The soul had made the two of them go on the Ferris wheel together. Both of them came back blushing and Kris was thankful they could manage a poker face. They’d refused to watch. At least they could control their fucking eyelids, even if their guts decided to mutiny and their limbs belonged to the soul.
Noelle was—complicated. She knew them better than anyone—from yesterday alone, that was clear. She was the only one who noticed that anything was different about them.
Susie had asked what their type was, earlier in the hot springs. They could only stare at her, incredulous. If she was anyone else, Kris would’ve thought she was making fun of them. And yet, the smallest part of their mind—the part they couldn't indulge anymore, the part that made them go catatonic in those months nearly six years ago, the part that had made a promise the rest of them had to keep—had asked does she know my first kiss was Noelle?
Obviously not. It felt like a dumb joke. My type is you and your girlfriend.
It was stupid. Noelle didn't talk to Kris anymore. They hadn't spoken for a long time. And yet—the festival, two years ago. They'd both been fifteen. The same age as Dess, when she'd...
The town hadn't been blocked off then. And although Kris hadn't spoken to Noelle in months, it hadn't truly settled in for either of them yet that they wouldn't be at the festival together. The year before, after all, Kris had been hospitalized. And the festival was cancelled the year before that, for a search party.
When Noelle showed up outside of Kris' house the morning of the festival that year, hair braided with ribbons, Kris was more surprised at the fact they weren't surprised at all. It felt—absolutely normal. As though the past two years hadn't happened. They thought back to what she had said.
"Hey Kris," Noelle's voice was hoarse, like she'd been crying or screaming.
They had nodded.
"Did you... want to walk together?"
"Today?"
"That was the hope. I was... hoping."
Kris hated to remember how light that had made them feel. As if they could be friends—normal friends, how they had been—for a day.
Before they could respond, she'd rushed to say—
"Don't make fun of me! I know this is out of the blue. I promise, if you don't want, I won't be in your hair for long—I just—Berdly's got a fever, and my dad said I should find you, and my mom said you'd be fine and I don't—considering, you know—I really just don't want to be alone today. So... I figured, um..."
"Since you have no other options, you wanted to walk a dog?"
That was not the first instance of the dog thing. Kris couldn't really explain the dog thing. Sometimes: dog. End of story.
"I mean! Who am I, to—um—turn down a puppy!"
"You wouldn't leave me at the kill shelter, would you?"
"Of course not! So—we should go, right?" She'd paused in the doorway for them to pull on their red rubber boots. Then she'd quirked her mouth. "Thanks for... throwing me a bone, Kris."
"You better throw it back. That's how fetch works." And then they'd barked.
Catty, passing them on the street, hissed. Then she noticed them and started waving and making strange faces. Both Kris and Noelle walked faster.
It was so easy to fall back into their old festival routine. That was the last year the Stomach Twister made an appearance at the festival. Snowy managed to fall out of his seat somehow and Aunt Carol decided it was just one more risk she wouldn't take, even though he hadn’t been hurt. Neither of them wanted to throw up, so they'd gone on it first, before getting food—maybe more times than they should have. By the end, they were both laughing like little kids, clutching onto each other for balance so they wouldn't land straight on their faces.
"Did you have to howl at the top of the first drop?"
Kris smirked. "Dogs sense danger. I wanted to let everyone know."
Noelle laughed, and a lock of her hair fell in front of her face. "Officer Undyne thought you were dying!"
Undyne had actually made the ride go faster in order to check if they were all right. If anything, they'd made the ride more fun for everyone, even if Noelle’s fur was in disarray. Kris pointed that out, and Noelle just shook her head.
"Still—maybe next tie, save the howling for the ground!" Her smile undercut her words, and in retaliation, Kris howled, right there and then.
Everyone stared, saw Kris, shrugged, and went back to their tasks. Well, extent for a tiny blue toddler who howled alongside them from their mother's side.
"Good job," said the mother to her child. "No inhibitions for baby."
“No! In-bi-shuns!” The toddler responded.
That sent Noelle into another fit of giggles.
"Sorry," she gasped, "I just imagined you as a baby sitter."
In response, Kris drew the symbol of the angel in the air, and Noelle snorted. They couldn't resist their own grin after that. The snort always felt like they'd won.
Neither of them had to ask where to go next. Kris stood in line for ICE scr-Eam (It was branded. Before the competition from that fucking grocer, that pizza place had monopolized the frozen dessert game in Hometown.) while Noelle bought some candied apples from Mrs. Boom's booth. Kris missed the apples this year—she'd decided she was getting too old to run the booth, and QC's unnerving sister had taken it over. Kris wasn’t creeped out by very many people, but something just wasn’t right about her.
They met up again by the lake. It was a good place for lunch, if you didn't mind the tiny hordes of gnats that would sometimes swoop by. Noelle had long since taken to using citronella soap, so they didn't bother her, and Kris had never cared about eating bugs, so it was perfect.
"Haunted house next, and then the Ferris wheel?"
Kris didn't bother to respond, instead taking a chunk out of their ICE scr-Eam that could have made any dragon proud. Immediately they pulled a face. Pizza flavored.
"Kris!" Noelle laughed. "I told you all the time not to get the random flavor!"
Kris chewed the frozen pepperoni chunks and shrugged. "Cheaper. And more exciting."
Noelle had sighed, then melancholically licked her gingerbread ICE scr-Eam, which Kris hadn't known was possible to do. "Do you remember—the last real festival? She got anchovy flavor for Azzy and told him it was peppermint. Chocolate shell and all."
Kris didn't tell her that they'd read their brother's reflections on that in his letters to Dess. She didn't need to know. They had to find her. Kris took another bite of their ICE scr-Eam instead of answering. They tried not to think about Aunt Carol's voicemails, about those long, silent walks through the forest in the dead of night.
Noelle cleared her throat. "Anyway. Um, so we're going to the haunted house next? You...don't have to, if you're tired. Sorry for dragging you out here."
Kris wiped their face with the back of their hand. "'M not tired. I'll come."
Something in Noelle's expression resolved. She smiled, though it was more reserved than it had been. "Great, Kris. Just... promise not to scare me like you did last time we went."
Kris ducked under their bangs and grinned, making sure Noelle could see a flash of red through the shadow cast over their eyes. She wrinkled her nose at them. Good. They'd practiced that one.
"ACK! Mamma—oh, Angel, Kris!" Noelle had her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. Kris nodded and wiped the blood punch off of their face.
"I told you not to do that! I knew you were going to, too—you're not subtle! I knew it when you disappeared!"
Kris stretched their lips over their teeth, knowing full well the blood punch, with its gloopy texture, had stained them. It almost resembled a smile. "So then should I really try to scare you?
Noelle only shuddered, and Kris knew her too well to be disappointed. "God, no."
“Noelle. Kris.” Catti with an I came up to them both. “What do you think. Of my hard work.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Noelle, “You helped set this up? It looks great!”
“Father Alvin. He insisted. Given my interests.”
That made sense.
“Jockington helped.”
That made less sense. Apparently, Noelle had the same idea. “Um… that’s great! How, exactly?”
Catti closed her eyes. Kris couldn’t tell if she was resigned or pausing for effect. It was hard to know with her.
“Moral support.”
“Ah. I see.” Noelle smiled sheepishly. “I should’ve known.”
“Long boy. Fascinating.”
“Yeah. I… got that.”
Catti looked off to the side, and then back at Noelle, smiling slightly. “You should come over again. We can do your make-up. Match your surroundings. Grimdark.”
Noelle blushed, and Kris looked away. Right. Things were different now. They still remembered when Noelle, baby that she was, used to tell on Dess for sneaking out in makeup like that. And then they could’ve kicked themselves. It was grief. She missed her sister.
“Kris!” Noelle turned back to them, “I’ve been getting into the music a bit more. It’s fun! And the looks are so… well, if I’m being honest, un-Noelle-like. But…”
“Suits you,” Catti said, and nodded. “Looks good.”
Noelle flushed again. Kris thought about their routine. Ferris wheel next. They could get out of here. They tapped their foot as they watched Noelle smile sheepishly.
“Maybe it’s okay,” they blurted, “To be un-Noelle-like sometimes.”
That’s when they really felt like kicking themself. Noelle looked at them with eyes wide, and Catti raised an eyebrow.
“Kris?”
“No. I agree. Do not limit yourself.” Catti said, still staring at Kris. “Bad ritual.”
“Right! Okay. I’ll—keep that in mind?”
The three of them stood in awkward silence for a moment. Eventually, Catti coughed.
“Father Alvin will miss me. I have to go. But—Noelle. Call me.”
The prayer candles were alternated with little tea candles with black wax. Kris wondered if they were allowed to set those ones on fire. They hoped they sparked. One year, when they were all kids, Kris had replaced the candle on Noelle’s birthday cake with one that wouldn’t stay lit. They did not regret it. Perhaps they would do it again.
Kris shut their eyes. No, they wouldn’t. The festival was an outlier. Noelle was only here out of habit. She’d be gone again tomorrow. With Catti and Jockington, or Berdly, or, hell, even MK and Snowy. And Kris would have the voicemails, and ominous flashes of pink and yellow in the corners of their vision. That was theirs. They’d earned it.
“Earth to Kris?” Noelle waved a hand in front of their face. “Come on. This was always your worst prank. I know you can hear me.”
Just to prove a point, Kris continued to stand perfectly still. It was so easy for her to reference their friendship. They tried not to be bitter. They didn’t get to be bitter.
“Kris, I swear, I’m going to start pushing you to the Ferris wheel if you keep this up!”
Would she actually?
Noelle furrowed her brow in that particular way she had when she needed to look annoyed, but couldn’t help smiling. Kris had always loved to provoke her to it. She, of course, hated it, or claimed to.
“I’m not joking, Kris!”
And apparently, she wasn’t. Noelle grabbed both of their hands before maneuvering so that she was pulling them along like an ox with a cart. Kris gave in and immediately started walking, mostly just surprised that she would even dare. They didn’t entirely go limp, though. They hung their head like a prisoner to the gallows, slouched nearly all the way over. Even though they couldn’t see her face, they could practically feel Noelle rolling her eyes, and they grinned at the ground, masked by their curtain of hair.
“What is this?” Gloated a blue voice. Kris could smell the blue. It reeked. “The idiot parade? I mean, everyone knows you’re not smart like me and Noelle, but this is overkill! You don’t need to publicize your inferiority! Especially not because everyone already knows!”
Both Noelle and Kris pretended not to hear him. Even his insults were corny.
“Noelle!” It called, rapidly fading as they both walked faster. “Did you hear me?”
Kris stood up straight so fast that Berdly, even across the street, startled. “No,” they said, voice perfectly neutral. Then they started running, not letting go of one of Noelle’s hands. She yelped, and then started laughing, running with them.
“Kris!”
“What?” They asked, near breathless.
“That wasn’t nice!” Noelle was barely winded. Right—she did cross-country. Golden girl.
“It’s Berdly,” Kris gasped. “Berdly.”
Noelle was quiet, and then nodded, clearly trying to suppress another smile. “Yeah. I see your point.”
The two of them ran like that until they were at the Ferris wheel, Berdly now an unfortunate blue blip on a distant horizon. Which was to say, two blocks away. The wheel loomed over town. Still had those heart shaped boxes. Kris glanced at Noelle, who looked resigned. She looked over at them, and Kris quickly broke eye contact.
As they waited in line, Noelle was quiet. She kept looking at her hooves, tracing circles in the sandy soil.
Kris looked away, and then looked back at her. Their stomach roiled. “Just cause it’s tradition doesn’t mean we gotta.”
“What? Sorry,” said Noelle, startling. “I didn’t catch that.”
“I mean. The wheel. If you don’t wanna, we don’t have to do it.” Kris winced at their own pauses. They sounded like Catti.
“Oh.” Noelle paused, and for a moment, Kris could tell she was considering it. Then she sighed and shook her head. “It’s tradition, you know?”
At Kris’ silence, she continued. “I mean, my mom would want us to. She, um, told me so this morning.”
Kris shrugged. They didn’t dare ask for what she wanted. Noelle could use Aunt Carol as an excuse. If she really didn’t want to, she wouldn’t, right? Her mother wasn’t here with them. There was nothing Aunt Carol could do about it.
It was a quiet wait to get to the front. Kris stared at all the others in line. Mrs. Boom was there with her husband, the author. Pizzapants and Azzy were there together—that was a conversation. Azzy pitied him, or was friends with him, or something inscrutable and distant that Kris didn’t understand, and the two of them always went together. At least until Azzy started dating Dess.
He waved at Kris, and then raised his eyebrow at their company before grinning and giving them a double thumbs up. Noelle was busy staring at the ground, for which they were infinitely thankful. Pointedly, they turned one-eighty degrees. They imagined their brother’s exaggerated frown he used to try to guilt trip them. Maximum frownage would be achieved in five seconds. They counted out the Mississippis before making a rude gesture behind their back. Somewhere behind them, they heard an exaggerated goat-like gasp. Got ‘em.
Noelle looked up next to them. Her eyes darted between Kris and Asriel, who was probably making some kind of frumpy annoyed expression and trying to get Pizzapants to join in on it.
“I’m not even going to ask.”
“Tell me when he’s on the wheel. He knows what he did.”
Even out of the corner of their eye, they could see Noelle roll her eyes. It was the same exasperated affection they’d been so used to, before. “Sure.”
When Noelle gave Kris the signal, they turned back around and were pleasantly surprised to see that Mr. and Mrs. Boom had opted to grab the last of the ICE scr-Eam, thus forfeiting their place in line. With Azzy and Pizzapants somewhere in the sky, that meant Kris and Noelle were next. For some reason, Kris’ palms itched. They didn’t think about it.
The inside of their booth was blue and yellow. For some reason, that had made sense to Kris. Other colors wouldn’t have fit properly. It had been easier, they thought, earlier in the day. Noelle was quiet now. Probably remembering that they didn’t usually speak. It was fine. They weren’t going to ruin her day.
She stared out of the window at Hometown. It was all lit up—courtesy of Rudy—and at no point did it look more idyllic. Kris watched her watch it through their bangs.
“You know,” Noelle said, with a funny tone in her voice. “I can see the clearing from here. The one you and me and Azzy and… Dess used to love.”
Somehow, their mouth worked. “We played pirates.”
“All the time,” She agreed. “Dess was always Bluebeard.”
“I thought that made sense,” Kris agreed. “Her horns.”
Noelle smiled wistfully. “Yeah. She always said when she moved to the city, she was going to paint them black.”
Kris took a second to imagine it, and then nodded.
“I think they would’ve suited her, too,” Noelle said.
The silence on the way down was softer, somehow. Noelle bumped her hoof against Kris’ sneaker, the way she used to when they were both younger and Kris had silent days. They knocked her hoof in return, softly. If they were younger—if this was any other festival—they would have rocked the booth until Noelle screamed. That day, they only managed a gentle swing. Noelle didn’t even look away from the window. Kris shut their eyes, taking in the moment like sun on their face.
It was over too soon, and yet it still felt like an eternity had passed. Kris tamped the soft earth a few times, partially for enrichment and partially to ground themselves.
“Do you…” Noelle glanced away from them, still wearing that dreamy expression she’d had on the wheel, like her head was a million miles away. “Want to go to the lake with me? I’m not ready to go home just yet.”
The lake was the only part of Hometown that never really changed. Maybe the trees changed color or dropped their leaves or grew new ones with the seasons, but the arc of those changes was soothing and predictable. The rest of the town—since Dess, at least—was always changing and then stagnating and then changing suddenly again, jolting from pause to pause like a bad engine down a road that only got darker and darker.
Kris hated the dark. Of course, they went on those night walks anyway. They were obligated.
That day, the sun was slowly sinking beneath the tree line on the distant shore of the lake. Maybe one day, Noelle would take them out there. She always talked about it, when they were younger, but all of Dess’s and Azzy’s attempts at rowboats sank and her mother expressly forbid it.
“I wish…” Noelle trailed off. Kris lifted their head to look at her. She sat next to them on the shoreline, hugging her knees to her chest. When she didn’t elaborate, they raised their eyebrows.
“Nothing.”
Kris attempted puppy-dog eyes. It never worked on Noelle, or anyone else. Maybe if their eyes were a different color, it might have.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s stupid.”
Kris shrugged. Took a risk: knocked their shoulder into hers.
Noelle sighed. “I mean, it was dumb, but I wish we could stay here longer.”
“How much longer?”
Noelle turned her face away. “Don’t ask me that. It was a… whim. I know you won’t.”
Kris stared at the little ripples that formed where the water touched the shore.
“It’s not tomorrow yet,” Kris offered. That was the best they could do. Anything else and they wouldn’t have been able to speak.
Noelle sighed, and slumped. “No. Not yet.”
The sunset blotted the horizon a bright red that diffused into light pinks and yellows and eventually the last hint of blue. There were no lines between the colors except the dashes of dark clouds lit up in shades of gold at their edges. Maybe tomorrow, it would rain. Tonight though, it was still sunny.
“Noelle.”
She looked at Kris, leaning her head on her knees. Some of her hair caught on her antlers. Kris still remembered when she’d started growing it out. Nobody had bothered to ask her are you sure you’re a girl because Noelle had been adamant about so little else. It was easy to forget sometimes, but there was steel in her.
“What is it?”
They liked that about her. Kris knew Noelle, at one point, better than anyone. And she knew them. Kris and Noelle, Noelle and Kris. It was good to remember the feeling, even if for only a day.
“Nothing.”
Noelle breathed a laugh. “You did that on purpose.”
Kris smiled at the lake, let Noelle catch it.
She knocked her shoulder back against theirs, mirroring them. “Jerk.”
The quiet settled in again, but it was different again in an unnamable way. Noelle didn’t move her shoulder away, and Kris let the pressure linger. As long as they were being selfish. As long as it was temporary.
“Kris.” There was a weird urgency in Noelle’s voice, for the moment. It made Kris’ stomach swoop. They’d never heard that tone from her before. They overstepped.
“Kris, please don’t move away. Um—just for now… I…”
Gingerly, Kris returned their shoulder. The point of contact was anything but reassuring, and yet Kris couldn’t call it entirely bad.
“Do you want to try something, with me? If we’re going back to normal tomorrow?”
Kris, against their better judgment, nodded. They felt sick with guilt, but—they couldn’t turn back now. Selfishness. Aunt Carol was right. That was their guiding virtue. They wanted what they wanted, and they didn’t care who they hurt.
“I need you to say so. Please.”
Kris’ voice was raspy. “Whatever you want.”
“You know what I’m going to do next, right?”
Kris hoped they were wrong. Kris hoped even harder that they were right.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Noelle looked at them with a new determination. “Okay.”
And then there were no more words. She leaned in and kissed them.
Lying in their bed, exhausted in all the ways it was possible to be, Kris tried not to think about what Noelle and Susie had probably done on the wheel. They couldn’t suppress the reflexive warmth on their mouth at the memory. They were mold. They were sick. There was something wrong with them. That festival was two years ago, before Susie even got to Hometown, and this was now. And they wouldn’t trade Susie for anything. And yet, the warmth.
It was worse to think of the “normalcy” after that day. It was more strained than usual. Even Berdly noticed. But both Kris and Noelle were persistent, and if they chose to be persistent in ignoring each other—nothing would stop them. The kiss was irrevocable, but they both pretended it wasn’t. And then Susie showed up, and that was that.
They were really sick for focusing on this now. It was one in the morning. They had so many other things to think about.
Susie stopped them from cutting the hedge sculpture of themself in half. What a farce that Flowery had gotten that fate instead. Even at the memory of the Knight, Kris’ head pounded. She—it—had cut their friends down like they were nothing. And Kris still had to…
For what? It was a mutinous, despicable question. They couldn’t entertain it. Kris knew exactly why.
Susie was brave. That was her guiding principle. Kris couldn’t help but covet that for themselves. Their stomach twisted.
Bravery wasn’t even the only thing Susie was. Everything added up, everything made them want to be around her more, want to tell her everything, want to do all of these stupid, impossible things. Susie wanted them to walk her home. Susie let them put stickers on her face and Susie drew little pictures of Kris in condensation on windows and Susie got mad when Kris and Ralsei nuzzled her plush of herself and called Kris out on staring at her, even if she didn’t know why they were. She was the best friend Kris could possibly ask for, and there was something wrong with them, because Susie’s smile made them feel—
Kris always had to bite the hand that fed them. It was reflexive. It was their natural state.
They buried their face in their pillow. A little rebreathing wouldn’t hurt. Out of any two people in the world. Not that they talked to very many people.
And Susie didn’t know. She would hate them enough when she found out the rest. They didn’t need to put this embarrassing, awful cherry on top. Kris shut their eyes against the dark. They just… wouldn’t tell her. And she would be happy with Noelle and everything—and here, Kris really knew they were deluded—would work out just fine.
They just wanted Susie to be all right. That was the most they could want, and Kris clutched the thought close, no matter how incorrect they knew it was.
Last night they had tracked her down in the rain. It was easier than lying in the dark with a pillow over their head trying to ignore that fucking guy flirting with their mother. Susie was lingering at the edge of the driveway with her hands shoved in her pockets, getting rained on. She’d startled when she heard the thud Kris made jumping down from where they dangled over the front door.
“Kris? That had better be you, or—”
“It’s me”
“Oh. Okay, good. I would’ve messed you up, if it wasn’t.”
Kris walked over to her, wishing they’d brought an umbrella. Stupid they hadn’t thought of that before escaping.
“So…,” said Susie. “You’re no longer in your room.”
“Nope.”
“Why? Couldn’t sleep?” She looked into the trees, bitterness coming over her face. Kris knew it wasn’t directed at them, and also knew better than to pry.
“No. Too loud.”
Susie scoffed. “Yeah. I know how that is.” Then she kicked a rock on the driveway.
“Where do you want to go?” Kris burned with all of the things they couldn’t tell her. They didn’t want to lie, but they wanted to reassure her—it was an impossible line to walk.
“Honestly? Anywhere is good. Just—maybe we don’t spend too much time in the rain.”
Right. She was cold-blooded, wasn’t she? Or something. Kris didn’t really know lizard monster biology very well, but it was uncomfortable getting soaked regardless.
“I know a place.”
The clearing. There was this huge hollow log there, half submerged in the dirt. Dess figured it was plastic from an old playground and then reclaimed by the forest. She’d spent a summer fixing doors to it and hiding all sorts of survival shit in there. Kris had helped. She’d seen the same flashes of color they’d seen. Pink and gold.
Susie followed them into the woods past the school, on another boarder of the lake. If it was clear, the view of the stars from out here would’ve impressed her. As it was, she’d have to deal with the dark and the cold and the damp.
“I think there’s extra clothes in here,” Kris said, beckoning her into the structure.
“Oh,” said Susie as she ducked under the doorframe, “You, uh, come here often?”
Kris tried not to wince at the phrasing. “No.”
“Okay. Cryptic, dude.”
They did not respond to that. Instead, they threw an old flannel at her, and some loose black pants. The pants would probably be a bit too short on her, but dry was better than correctly sized. The other wall Dess had installed had collapsed, so the structure was more like a short tunnel with a door on one end.
“We could’ve gone in that way,” Susie pointed out.
“Path’s haunted.”
“What? For real?”
“Yeah. Legend has it, if you go through, the S—” Kris interrupted themselves by growling and lunging into Susie, who got them into a headlock so fast the blood rushed to their head.
“Ha! I got you! I swear, Kris, the more I get to know you, the more predictable you get. Gotta switch it up if you want to get one over on me.”
“Suziezilla.”
“Exactly. And—I’m not letting you go until you admit you should’ve known better than to try it with me. Gotta face it, dude, I know you too well.”
Kris hung limp in Susie’s arms like a ragdoll. That usually annoyed Azzy into dropping them, but Susie just tightened her grip and maneuvered around so the two of them were facing the open wall, looking out onto the lake. The water rippled as the rain hit it. Kris wondered if the ripples would show up if they looked through that shard Susie had gotten from the Old Man.
“You ever going to say anything?” Susie asked. “All it takes is one ‘uncle’ and you’re free to go.”
What would the soul’s menu have looked like? They knew what the most embarrassing option would be, at least.
> I like it here
They opted instead for “You need to invest in deodorant.”
Susie only snorted. “Like you smell so good. It’s just apples.”
“You’re the one who wanted to smell my hair.”
Susie looked at them, outraged. If she was anyone else, they would’ve used that moment to escape. Instead they just continued to lie limply in her arms.
“You started it! Playing games in the dark all alone, like a loser!”
Her face clouded, suddenly. “Wait. And you got the mantle you put on me from that game, didn’t you?”
Kris swallowed. Nodded.
“So… was it a—uh. Dude. Was it a Dealmaker situation?”
They could tell her the truth. It would be so easy. The game, the controller, Ramb, all of it. But then they’d have to talk about that little pixel Kris with the sword. Kris had dreamt of it the night before. It wasn’t pretty. They’d have to explain why they’d pulled her in in the first place.
Kris had to lie.
“No. Just games.”
“Well, all right. You look like shit, though. And you know me and Ralsei are here for you. Through anything, dumbass. Like you were there for me today, with the… the Old Man.”
Susie grew silent.
“Do you want to talk about it?” They asked, quietly.
“Hah, your voice sounds different in the dark,” Susie said. “More mumble-y. Noelle was right. It’s… nice.”
Kris’ blood ran cold, and then hot. It felt like having a fever. “…Thanks.”
“Any time, weirdo.”
Susie stared out at the lake. “That song’s not playing any more. The one I was talking about earlier.”
Kris only sighed. Resisted the urge to move in closer. The headlock—now it was more like a loose arm around their neck—was enough.
“Do you think… he’s all right? Wherever he is?”
Kris chewed their lip and thought about it. “I think he taught you even though he knew what would happen to him.”
“Well,” said Susie, “Yeah. What’s your point?” Her tone was gentle.
“If he chose to spend the time he had on you and on Father Alvin, you both must have been worth it.”
Susie looked down at her lap. “I hope so.”
The two of them sat in silence for a few moments.
“I guess we can’t really know where he is now. And it doesn’t really matter, because he was alive, and his choices then were who he was. And that’s what we have to live with, because that’s all the information we have.”
Kris fell quiet. What kind of person did that make them? Another moment passed.
“Thanks, Kris,” said Susie.
“Any time, girlchacho,” they said in a perfect monotone.
Susie snorted. “You’re so damn stupid sometimes. I love you, dude.”
She didn’t mean it like that. She didn’t mean it like that. Still, Kris hid their face in the crook of her arm, trying to hide their blush and hoping she couldn’t see it in the dark.
“What? Are you trying to bite me or something? Hell no, get out of there.”
And she dumped them unceremoniously on the ground. Kris buried their head in their hands facedown. They would show their face again maybe in a few years. That would be fine.
They nearly startled out of their skin when a clawed hand landed on their back.
“Jesus, are my hands that cold?”
“Susie.”
“That’s my name.”
“Whatever.”
“Okay, freak. Revenge of the Severed Ice Hand.”
She put her hand back, and Kris hoped she couldn’t feel their heartbeat in their spine. It felt like it was trying to kill them. “Listen. When this rain clears up, I’m gonna head to Castle Town. We both need to rest if we want to find the codes tomorrow.”
Kris sighed.
“Do you want to come with me? To Castle Town, I mean.”
Did dogs want bones? But they couldn’t. Without the soul, it was an incredibly bad idea. And yet, Kris still didn’t want to go home. They could feel their muscles begin to ache, the idea of getting up get heavier and heavier. Kris would need to return, soon, to the soul. But for now—
“I’m good. My mom would worry if she woke up and I wasn’t there.”
Susie looked away. “Right. Sorry, it was stupid to ask.”
“No!” Kris said, volume surprising even themself. “Any other day, I’d come with. I want to. But I just—you know. She’ll want me home. Sorry.”
They had another half-hour with Susie as they waited for the downpour to become a drizzle. If they inched closer to her, if they stared at her in the dark, she didn’t notice or she didn’t care.
They parted at the closet door. Susie walked closer to them before hesitating and pulling back, offering her fist. Kris pointedly did not think about that any further. The rest of the night was their own.
And then the next morning at the crack of dawn they found her hair in their Castle Town room in their Castle Town bed that smelled like Castle Town apples. The morning of Susie’s date with Noelle. Kris was genuinely, probably for the first time, thankful for the soul in that moment. They didn’t know how they would react to that of their own volition. Probably they would have combusted. Even more likely, they would’ve started yelling. Or barking. Their stare was enough to make Susie sheepish about it. Good! Let someone else be sheepish. Kris was exhausted beyond measure.
Kris was so tired. And they were a terrible friend. In their bedroom under the glow of their singular star, they could see that. It would be Susie and Noelle and neither of them would speak to Kris again after this, if they were still even around. If Kris could be around, after the buttercups.
They were mold, disgusting and sticky and cloying. All of this was for one thing and one thing only. To fix their mistake, the one they made in the dark so many years ago. The sooner they accepted that, that nothing else mattered, the less it would hurt. Kris was a knife honed for one purpose.
And yet, despite all their self-awareness and all of their determination, Kris couldn’t change their nature. Selfish. So fucking selfish.
They dreamt of Susie at the lake, backlit by the sun, scales glimmering and hair full of dirt. Kris looked up at her from her lap, staring up at her snout. She grinned down at Kris, and bit into an apple. Noelle’s horns poked Kris’ face, and she smiled at them both; the wide, unselfconscious smile she’d had as a little girl, before everything. The way she smiled at the festival, for just that one day. The sun shined on the three of them. Kris woke up lethargic, wanting to dream again, before consciousness kicked in and they felt even more like the slime they were.