Chapter Text
You stand atop a mountain overlooking the city you once called home. The air is cold but you don’t mind the chill, you don’t mind anything. The world abandoned you, your love abandoned you. In your time of need, you found yourself reaching out for help only to be left hanging.
You recall the moments of the fateful night, the night your child vanished. Every time you close your eyes, try to sleep, or try to think, you’re haunted by the unknown. You aren’t one to hope, the most you can muster is hoping that whatever happened, happened fast.
They weren’t suicidal, or at least, you hadn’t noticed if they were. It was just a stupid argument. They wanted to stay with their friend after their ballet class, if you had said yes they would still be here. Why did they have to run away? Why didn’t you chase them? Why are you here when they aren’t?
You stare down the chasm atop the mountain. Six children, one of which was your own, were headed to the mountain before they vanished. You shudder. Is this what each one of them felt before they jumped down?
You turn around and look back at the world that scorned you. Your love couldn’t bear to be around you, they said you looked too much like your child. You didn’t try to stop them from leaving, after all, you couldn’t look into a mirror without catching a glimpse of your child. It’s been four years and all your friends and family moved on, but the dreadful feeling you failed keeps you chained to the past.
You turn back to the chasm. One step and everything would be out of your hands forever. You grit your teeth and take a step toward the chasm. Your heart pounds and your body shakes. You feel as if your emotions clash with your rational thoughts and fight for dominance, for the right to determine your fate, but you made up your mind before ascending the mountain.
You take a photograph out of your pocket. It’s the last photo you have of your child. They were so happy, years of ballet led to them being front and center in the recital. You just had to ruin it. You sign and pocket the photo.
What is there to go back to? A world that’s moved on? An empty apartment? The ever-present emptiness you feel when you pass by their room? Ever since they died you merely existed, if there is an alternative it’s lost to you. You take one last step forward and plunge into the dark below.
…
You’re lying on your back and you can feel a soft bed of flowers under your back. You stand up with shaky legs, your head pounding all the while. You look around and see that the world around you is pitch black, the only light is the light that shines from above. The only way to go is forward, a short hallway leading to a single door is the only feature you see.
You stumble forward, leaning against the side of the room for support. Your leg screams in pain but it could be worse, by some miracle nothing is broken. You don’t know if you can attribute this to good or bad luck. Somehow you failed and now your child is farther away than ever before. The lack of a body should give you hope, but to you, it just means they suffered before they died.
You go through the door and walk into an open room. When you try to walk without the help of a wall you fall forward. Blinking back tears you look around for anything that might help you. You notice that directly in front of you is another door, this one filled with light. You start to crawl over to it. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you stop.
Before jumping you thought the worst-case scenario would be surviving the fall and landing on a pile of small corpses. The thought that anything is alive inside Mt. Ebott is a thought that never crossed your mind. Could this mean that your child is alive? Maybe surviving the fall was a blessing? Perhaps you could see your child again.
You hear a gasp and you turn your head to see a strange woman. She wears a purple gown sporting a symbol that you don’t recognize, that’s where the normalcy ends. Her head is that of a goat, in fact, the parts of her body that aren’t covered by the gown are covered in white fur. Her eyes are closer to a human’s than a normal goat’s they are on the front of her head and her pupils are like a human’s as well. Unlike a normal goat, a pair of fangs seem to poke out of her mouth.
You do your best not to stare in awe but the goat’s expression makes you think you failed, though it might also be because she’s surprised to see a human down here.
“Hello, dear, are you alright?” She asks.
“G-goat.” You hear yourself say.
She tilts her head. “That’s not the first time I’ve been called that by a human.” She chuckles. “Though It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a human adult who was surprised by the sight of a monster. Unfortunately, only children have fallen since we were sealed down here.”
“I-I didn’t mean to.” You stutter.
The goat smiles warmly. “It’s okay, dear, I imagine that this is a lot to take in.” She approaches you slowly. “You look hurt.” She points out.
You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” You reply.
You can’t remember the last time you met someone new. You find your chest tightening as you try and talk to the goat woman. You never realized how shy you became after your love left. You never had the energy to get out of bed, just going to work was enough to wipe you out for the rest of the night, and skipping meals didn’t help either. You can’t remember the last time you even met someone new.
The goat woman kneels in front of you. “Please, tell me what’s bothering you.”
You do your best to sit up from your prone position but every small movement causes sparks of pain all over your body. After a few minutes, you feel a fluffy paw on your shoulder and you pause.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Reassures the goat.
You see a vibrant, green light emanate from the goat’s paws. Warmth begins to flow into your body and your aches and pains begin to fade away. After a few seconds, the pain is completely gone and you feel more invigorated than you have in years. The light fades and the goat woman helps you to your feet.
“Th-thank you.” You say.
“It’s no problem.” The goat smiles.
“I forgot to introduce myself, I am Toriel, the caretaker of these ruins.” She says.
You introduce yourself. She leads you to the next room. A few seconds after you step into the light she takes a sudden step back. Her eyes grow wide and her paws shake.
“Are you okay?” You ask.
Toriel takes a deep breath and composes herself. “I’m sorry, dear, you just look like someone I used to know.” Her voice is close to its usually soft tone, but you’re able to pick up a faint sadness.
You know that you look like your child. For a moment you’re excited, she knew what your child looked like, which means they survived the fall, but where are they now?
“Oh… oh no.” Whispers the goat, the color draining from her face.
Her tone causes your heart to sink. You have a feeling that you’re not going to like the answer but you ask her about your child.
“That… requires some explaining.” Toriel answers. “Monsters aren't always friendly toward humans, and some can be a bit too friendly.” She motions for you to follow her and you both walk across the room, up some stone steps. “Not every aggressive monster hunts humans, some don’t even know what a human is.”
“If they don’t know what a human is, why would they attack their own kind?” You ask.
“Monsters are resistant to magic, unless a monster genuinely means to cause harm, an attack won’t do much more than ward off their opponents.” Explains the goat. “Humans don’t have that luxury.”
“So a monster might harm a human without meaning to?”
Toriel nods. “Your child was terribly frightened when they fell down here.” She looks down and you catch sadness in her eyes. “Another monster found them before I did and they were injured. I tried to help them but they ran away.”
“Please, miss Toriel, if there’s any chance that they’re alive I have to know.” You urge.
“I found dust scattered in some remote parts of the ruins. The remains of slain monsters.”
You feel cold. Surely the goat was mistaken, your child would never hurt anyone.
“I doubt they meant to harm anyone. We monsters tend to be weak when it comes to human attacks and if we don’t want to fight we become even weaker.” Toriel adds optimistically.
“Is there any way out of the ruins?” You ask.
Toriel hesitates. Sighing the caretaker answers. “There’s two ways and I would’ve known if they went out through the main path. If they made it out of the ruins then they must’ve gone through the lower sections.”
“How can I get there?” You practically beg.
Toriel steps on a few plates on the ground. A door opens up soon after. “Follow me.” She says.
Toriel guides you into a long room with switches lining the wall. Each switch has already been pressed except for one, it and one other switch make up the pair closest to exit on the right. A tarp covers the ground beneath one of the switches.
“The last child who came here… they fell into the Dark Ruins. I never saw them again.” The goat laments.
“I’m sorry.” You answer, trying to cheer Toriel up.
“I never removed the rope. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, I keep thinking that one day the human might find their way back.” Toriel sighs. “Once you’re down there I’m going to cover the hole again, I don’t want any monsters falling down.”
“I understand.” You say. “Thank you.” You start walking towards the hole.
“Wait.” The caretaker calls out.
You turn back to Toriel.
“I have to warn you that you shouldn’t expect to find your child.” She clenches her paws, and a grief-stricken look appears on her face. “The king, Asgore, declared war on humanity, vowing that any human that falls down here shall die and their souls be used in breaking the barrier.” She sighs. “Over the years I’ve seen many humans pass through here and though I can’t know for certain, I feel it in my soul each time one of them passes.”
You look away from the caretaker. “I have nothing to return to. I never expected to survive the fall, let alone have this chance to learn of my child’s fate.” You state determination in your voice.
“I see. Good luck, dear. I hope you find what you’re searching for.” Toriel smiles.
“I hope so too.” You say as you turn towards the hole.
…
The Dark Ruins are barren. You find yourself having more trouble navigating them than dealing with monsters. In fact, you only run into a single monster, a large bat that sleeps on the roof of one of the rooms. You quietly pass them and they pay you no mind.
It’s not until you come across a house built into the ruins that things become interesting. The air is colder than that of the rest of the ruins and upon searching through the living space you learn why. Directly across from the entrance is another room sporting a door leading to a vast open area. Looking through the door you spot snow.
Curious, you exit and stumble into the snow. Whatever this place is, it’s entirely different from the ruins. Apart from the vast trees, the paths are more open. The ceiling of this place is a vast cave roof covered in blue crystals.
You continue to walk along the path leading away from the ruins. You’re so caught up in observing the world around you that you fail to notice a humanoid monster crossing your path. A loud gasp causes you to jump.
“I-it can’t be.” A fearful voice speaks in absolute awe.
You turn to face the direction of the voice and take note of a monster with purple skin, dark hair, and a pair of horns wearing a puffy sweater. They stare at you with fear-filled eyes.
“Hello.” You greet the monster.
Electricity arcs around the monster and they take a step back.
“I won’t let you undo the good that Clover has done! I won’t allow it.” Despite sounding fearful, the monster manages to maintain a firm voice.
You raise your hands out in front of your chest. “Woah, woah! I don’t want to cause any trouble!” You reassure the monster. The name Clover sounds familiar to you, but in the heat of the moment, you can’t place where you heard it. “You mentioned a Clover? I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”
The monster hesitantly reaches into his sweater and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He fumbles around with the paper while keeping his eyes on you and after a few minutes, he succeeds in unfolding it. He holds the paper out and you see a drawing of a young boy dressed like he came straight out of a western film. You recall a missing poster that circulated a few months back, six children, one of whom wore the same clothes that the child wears in the illustration.
“What happened to him?” You ask.
The monster tries to keep his eyes on you but is overpowered by his grief. He looks away, you can see a tear sliding down his cheek.
“I… I was told he sacrificed himself.” He sighs and looks back towards you. “I would like to apologize. I almost made the same mistake with you that I made with him.” He walks up to you and holds out his hand. “My name is Dalv.”
You shake his hand and tell him your name.
“I’m almost too afraid to ask but… before Clover did you see a human?” Judging by Dalv’s reaction to you, the best question is “What did they do?” but the thought that your child did something that still haunts the monster in front of you makes your skin crawl.
Dalv nods.
“You’re really going to make me ask, aren't you?” You sigh in a low, depressed tone.
“They attacked me and my friend. I would’ve died if I hadn’t…” He trails off.
“It’s alright.” You murmur. “It would be wrong for me to excuse my child’s actions and not excuse yours when the tables turned.”
“Were they yours?” Asks the monster.
“Yes.” You reply, sadness heavy in your voice. “The last time I was with them we argued and they ran off.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I would’ve learned eventually. It’s better now than later.” You fain optimism. “Do you know where they went?”
The vampire turns and points into the woods. “If they made it to Waterfall, they went straight from the point where they ran.” Dalv answers.
“Thank you.” You say moving past the monster.
“What are you doing?” Dalv speaks with concern.
You stop and turn your head back. “I jumped down here to be with my child. One way or another I’m going to make that happen.” You reply sternly.
The monster nods uncomfortably and you walk into the woods.
…
The distance between the exit of the Dark Ruins and the place known as Waterfall isn’t far. It doesn’t take long for the silence of the snowy area to give way to the sound of rushing water. You push your way through the woods and find yourself in a dimly lit, cavernous area.
The air feels humid against your face as you walk into Waterfall. The blueish, gravely ground seems to shine just as much as the water which rains down in torrents. It’s clear to you why this place is known as Waterfall. Massive pillars of water fall through holes in the Underground’s roof and light shines through them. It’s beautiful, tranquil even.
The sound of flapping wings catches your attention and you look up to see a bird monster. She wears a simple blue shirt, jeans, and snow boots. Her feathers are blue and her hair is blue, the only other color besides blue on her is the yellow of her beak and the light brown of her boots.
She lands in front of you and bends over, putting on her wings on her knee and the other in front of her. Somehow she manages to only raise a single feather as if to say “Please give me a minute.” You can hear her panting.
“H-hello?” You offer, unsure of what to say or do.
The bird monster stands up straight.
“Hello, I’m Martlet of the- I’m Martlet.” She smiles awkwardly.
You introduce yourself to Martlet.
“Oh, another friendly human? That’s great!” The bird smiles and then frowns. “Wait, you’re planning on returning to the surface, right?” She asks.
You shake your head.
“Really? So you’re looking for a place to stay?”
You shake your head again. Martlet tilts her head in confusion.
“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.” The bird states.
“It does to me.” You reply.
The bird shrugs. “Well, if you’re planning on anything, I don’t suggest going through Waterfall.”
“I have no choice. I’m just trying to follow the path of my child.”
Martlet’s eyes widen. “Your child went to Waterfall?” She asks.
“It seems that way.”
“I’m so sorry…” The bird laments.
“Why are you…? You know what happened to them, don’t you?” You take a shaky breath. “Please, please tell me what happened!” You beg.
“I-I don’t know if I should.” Martlet says.
“I have to know. Until only a few hours ago I thought they died from the fall, but now I know they didn’t. I just want to know how they died. It’s all I have left.” You plead.
Martlet looks sad as she begins to explain. She tells you about a tape she and the previous human found behind the grave of her deceased friend. She tells you of the experiments, of how your child’s soul was used, but most of all she tells you of your child’s demise: a robot named Axis.
You feel numb. You dared not hope so why do you feel this way? You suppose that there was comfort in believing your child died from the fall. Now, that comfort is replaced with sorrow. The sorrow that comes from imagining the mind of a child that is driven to the point of attacking everyone around them. The sorrow that comes from imagining your child running away after being injured. The sorrow that comes from your child being hunted down by a foe who doesn’t know the definition of mercy and not being there to protect them.
You turn away from Martlet.
“Wait! If you go into Waterfall you’ll be killed by Undyne.” The bird shouts panic in her voice. “This is what Dalv was worried about when he sought me out!”
What is it with these monsters caring about your well-being? What happened to the ruthless killers that Toriel described?
“I’m sorry, but even before I knew this place existed, this was always a one-way trip.” You say as you walk into Waterfall.
“They wouldn’t want this.” Martlet urges.
You stop walking. “Even if it isn’t, it’s what I deserve.” You retort.
“I can’t just let you walk to your death!” Martlet argues.
“You barely know me. Why do you care if I live or die? Hell, you should be happy, with my death you’re one step closer to freedom.”
“A friend of mine thought the same thing! He gave his life so we might one day be free and so that we wouldn’t have to spend our lives worrying about his safety. But I would’ve done it! I would’ve put everything on the line for him.” Martlet blinks tears from her eyes.
You sigh. “I’m sorry, but saving me won’t bring your friend back. I didn’t want anyone to be hurt, no one else was meant to get close to me!” You tremble, starting to walk forward. “Forget about me. It’s what’s best for everyone.”
You walk deeper into Waterfall, leaving behind the sobbing monster. You don’t know how long you walk for, you don’t even know where you’re going. Tears blur your vision. You wish you’d just died from the fall. Things would’ve been so much easier. You never wanted to hurt anyone, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t take anyone with you, yet just laying eyes on you was enough for the bird monster’s wounds to reopen.
You grit your teeth. Nothing good would’ve happened if you stayed. The less people who know about you, the better.
“Human.” A deep, feminine voice growls from behind you. The way she says the word makes it seem like an insult. “Turn around and face me.” It orders.
You turn around and face a towering figure. They wear full plate armor, their helmet sports a face that sends shivers down your spine, and in their hands is a blue, glowing spear.
“You stand in the way of everyone’s hopes and dreams!” They growl. “I’ll rip the soul from your chest and with it, my people will finally be free.”
You say nothing.
“What’s wrong with you?! Why are you just standing there? Are you too afraid to move?!” They spit.
“Just do what you have to do.” You mutter, too tired to move.
With impossible speed the armored monster charges. They grip your neck tightly making it impossible to breathe.
“You’re trying to trick me! A human would never willingly give up their soul! They’re too determined for that!” The monster shouts.
As the monster prepares to thrust her spear into your chest you feel something flaring up inside of you. It makes your heart beat faster than ever before, beads of cold sweat form on your skin, and a single thought forces its way into the front of your mind: “Survive.”
You reach out and grip the tip of the spear before the monster can thrust it forward. You can feel warm blood pooling between your fingers as you put everything into keeping the spear in place.
“I knew it.” The monster mutters.
It throws down and your head bounces against the rough ground. Your ears ring and your vision is blurry but you can just make out the fast-flowing river to your side.
The monster readies their spear but you quickly leap into the water. You feel a sharp pain in your thigh and any control you have over yourself is ripped away. The last thing you see before losing consciousness is the bottom of the river seconds before your head collides with it.
…
Your entire body aches. You open your eyes to find yourself lying half-submerged in a shallow lake. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying there but the half of your body that isn’t underwater is dry. You feel for the photo in your pocket and breathe a sigh of relief upon feeling it. You manage to pull yourself out of the water. The ground beneath you is sandy.
The sky above you is the same as the rest of the Underground, however, a large stone that shines brightly is lodged into a far-off wall. The stone has the appearance of the Sun, and it seems to serve the same purpose. Judging by the dry ground, you conclude it does so a bit too well.
You try to stand but quickly fall back down. You look at your thigh and see a large hole. You aren’t going to be walking on that leg. You begin to awkwardly pull yourself along the ground, unfortunately, the lake stops at the shore you woke up on meaning you have nothing to follow.
Eventually, you manage to get in a rhythm but you quickly find yourself deteriorating. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had anything to drink, a depressing thought given where you woke up, and your injury isn’t doing you any favors.
Why did you have to fight it? Why didn’t you just stay still? Now instead of finally being with your child again you’re suffering, and the worst part is that no one is going to find your soul when you die. If the armored monster was wrong about you standing in the way of monsterkind’s freedom before, she was definitely right now. You screwed everything up.
Your hand misses the ground and you find yourself tumbling down a large dune. You try to orient yourself but don’t have the strength to move. The only thing worse than the pain in your body is the disgusting crunch of sand in your mouth. After some struggle, you manage to get on your back.
You can’t help but chuckle at the situation you got yourself into. Some call suicide selfish, so you decide to isolate, you convince yourself that no one wants you and now that you’re finally staring down death you want to live. No wonder your child left. They probably had a better chance down here than with you on the surface.
You hear footsteps approaching and you try to turn your head towards their source but your neck refuses to move.
“Is that the human Martlet called me about?” You hear a woman ask herself under her breath.
You try to say something but only manage to cough. The sand in your mouth manages to make the word dry seem pleasant. The footsteps speed up for a few seconds before stopping. A few seconds after they stop you see the face of a fox monster looking down at you.
“I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to move you.” She states.
You feel your heart skip a beat as the fox woman manages to lift you effortlessly. The moment of surprise passes as pain shoots through your leg.
“Sorry, but I don’t trust my healing magic enough to heal you out here. Sand might get trapped in the wound.” The fox woman explains. “I’ll take you to my home, angel knows I have the room to spare.”
The fox woman holds you close to her body as she carries you, the silky fur on her arms is almost enough to numb the pain in your body. Your eyelids begin to grow heavy and you find yourself fighting to stay awake.
“We’re close, just keep your eyes open.” The fox urges.
However, you find yourself unable to resist. The last thing you hear before everything fades away is a frustrated “damn it” from the fox woman.
…
The first thing you notice is the dull throb of your head. The next is that your mouth is noticeably less sandy. The last thing is that every slight movement you make is followed by an ache.
You open your eyes and light nearly blinds you. You blink as your eyes adjust and the throbbing in your head becomes pounding. When your eyes adjust you find yourself alone. You feel for the photo in your pocket but find nothing. You aren’t wearing the clothes you were before you passed out.
You aren’t quite sure what you’re wearing. The design is Japanese, a lot of the decorations in the room around you seem to come straight from Japan. Normally this would interest you, but finding the photograph takes priority.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed. Your body feels weak but your thigh feels better than ever before. As you rise to your feet you quickly realize that your body isn’t well enough to keep you upright. You fall, managing to turn your body just enough for your side to take the brunt of the impact.
Loud footsteps quickly approach and you hear a door open. A sigh informs you of the fox woman’s presence.
“What is it with you humans and being so persistent in harming yourselves?” She says, lifting you back on the bed.
“Pl-please, I-I n-need the ph-ph-photo.” You stutter nervously.
You are anything but brave. The only things that might be considered brave that you’ve done could be explained away by you simply being indifferent. So being completely in the fox woman’s domain, wearing clothes provided by her, and only being alive because of her strikes your nerves about as hard as you were thrown at the ground by the armored monster.
“Oh, here.” She says producing a photo and handing it to you. “It was waterlogged so I decided to restore it.”
You hold the photo in your hands. Before the photograph was faded and wrinkled; years of being in your pocket had done a number on it. Now, it’s brand new, as if you just had it produced.
“Thank you.” You say gratefully.
“That’s why you came down here, isn’t it?” The fox sighs. “Judging by the impression you had on Martlet, you might be a fool but you aren’t naive.”
You stare at the photo, and a sense of guilt rises inside of you. When you finally look away from the photo you realize this is the first time you’re able to get a good look at the fox woman. Her fur is tan in color and she has long, fiery hair, that’s tied back by a red bow. If a word exists that can describe her expression it would have to be “intense.”
“Thank you for helping me, but I should go.” You say.
The fox woman shakes her head. “You can’t even walk by yourself.” The fox states.
“Look, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”
“Stop punishing yourself.” The fox seems to direct her voice into your very soul. Her expression is stern, eyes boring through your head, and her face hardened. “You might think you’re sparing people by putting yourself down but I promise you that you’re only making it worse.”
Your mouth feels dry and you try to say something but your mind is completely blank.
The fox woman clears her throat. “Let’s start over. I’m Ceroba Ketsukane.”
You manage to squeak out your name.
“How are you feeling?” She asks.
“Terrible.” You answer immediately feeling like an idiot for answering in only a single word.
“I’m surprised it’s not worse. You humans are something else.” Ceroba replies.
You fail to comprehend how you could be any better after what happened. Ceroba seems to notice this and her expression softens.
“I’m afraid that I don’t know a lot about humans, most of what I know for a fact comes from the last human who fell down here.” Ceroba explains.
“Th-the one who sacrificed themselves?” You ask.
The fox woman nods. “If I could do it all again I would never have let them do it.” She sighs. “They thought that it would help us but instead we’re waiting for their death to pay off while Monsterkind celebrates the death of one of the purest angels to grace our slice of hell.” Ceroba sighs. “That’s enough of that, let’s just focus on getting you better.”
You nod and look back at the photo. You know that there’s more to the story than what she told you. It’s something about how she carries herself. She’s guarded, keeping herself distant, but her defenses are far from perfect. Like a wall with giant cracks formed from years of erosion, you can see through it. When peering through the cracks you see yourself and though you have nothing to prove this besides her story, you can almost feel your pain resonating with hers. You shake your head causing the thought to dissipate. It’s nothing but wishful thinking and to project yourself onto another person for your gain is beyond cruel.
You feel a paw on your shoulder and your heart skips a beat. You face the fox woman who now wears a concerned look.
“You zoned out.” She states.
“S-sorry.”
You notice a plate of food and a cup of water on the nightstand next to your bed. How long did you zone out for? You ignore the thought as you grab the plate. The food on the plate seems to share one common ingredient: corn.
“My friend’s family has a corn farm. They grow so much that they give me baskets full every harvest. I have more corn than I know what to do with.” Ceroba explains.
You don’t realize how hungry you are until you start eating. The second your stomach is reminded of its purpose it greedily demands more. In no time at all you clean the plate. The taste is hard to place, but how it makes you feel isn’t. You feel warm, almost nostalgic, and the aches and pains in your body gradually fade.
“I’ve never eaten anything this good.” You say.
Ceroba smiles. “Thank you.” She replies. “I normally don’t cook when it’s just myself. I think this might be the first time I’ve used my kitchen since-” She cuts herself off. You stare through a crack in her defenses and once again you see yourself. “It’s been a while.” She finishes and the crack is filled once more.
“I feel… good.” You say.
The fox woman nods. “Monster food has that effect. It perfectly distributes energy since it’s primarily made of magic.”
You move your arm and notice that the fatigue is gone.
“I wouldn’t try walking by yourself yet. Some injuries take more than a plate of corn chowder to heal.” Convinces Ceroba, seemingly reading your mind.
“I understand.” You sigh.
“Look…” The fox woman breathes. “...you’ve barely spent any time in the underground, maybe you should stick around for a little while?” She offers.
You look down. This is what you’ve been trying so hard to avoid. Letting people get attached to you would only hurt them. Still, you feel like Ceroba’s trying to help you is for more than just your physical injuries. It feels like she knows what you’re going through. Her words, telling you not to punish yourself, echo in your mind. Do you deserve this? What happens if you say no? She isn’t going to let you walk out of here until you can do so yourself. What will she do if you agree to stay for a while?
“It’s not easy to forgive yourself and it’s even harder to face yourself. The fact that you’re down here tells me you haven’t done either.” The fox remarks.
You chuckle at your helplessness. “I tried. I really did try. Maybe I could’ve gotten to a place where I could’ve lived a normal life, but my love… they said I looked too much like our child.” Chuckling turns to sobs. “I don’t blame them but at the same time, it’s hard not to feel abandoned.” Sobs become throes of sorrow. “Quite honestly I’m surprised they stayed as long as they did. I’m the one who lost them, hell, I’m the reason they ran off in the first place. Over something stupid as riding home with a friend because I didn’t know their dad?” Your tears quiet and your voice becomes deathly low. “How can I not blame myself when I was the reason they ran off?”
You see tears in Ceroba’s eyes. “It’s hard.” She answers. “If Clover hadn’t fallen I might never have been able to face my past. I still blame myself but after forgiving myself, living became so much easier.”
You finally manage to see clearly through the cracks in the fox’s defenses but when you peer through them, you only see yourself staring back at you. The fox woman had told you a whole story, but it isn’t the story you need to hear.
“What happened?” You ask.
Ceroba places a paw over your hand and takes a deep breath.
“I’ll make a deal with you.” She states. “I’ll tell you my story but not all at once. The longer you stay down here, the more I’ll tell you. When I’m done, you can choose whether or not you’ll go through with your… plan.” The fox gazes into your eyes, the orbs full of emotions that seem to connect with your soul.
What’s the worst that can happen? You find it in you to live with your guilt? You live in a place where you won’t be abandoned? You get a second chance?
“Okay.” You answer.
Ceroba nods. “Alright.” She says. “Just rest for now and tomorrow, I’ll show you around.” The fox woman stands up, taking your plate.
“Thank you.” You say as the fox woman steps out of the room.