Guiltale

Chapter Eight: That's the End of the Tutoriel!

The next morning, I dressed slowly. I needed to leave, but I also didn't want to. I was perfectly happy here. Sometimes, I wonder if things would have turned out differently had I stayed down there. Better, or worse? Waking up at six didn't help my problem solving skills, either. Chara was silent all morning, but floated about from room to room, 'touching' and looking at every little thing as if she were never going to see them again. I barely registered her as I prepared.
Brush hair and teeth.
Braid.
Jeans.
Yellow shirt.
Pink socks.
Boots.
Gloves.
Scarf.
Snow coat.
Standing before the mirror, I gave myself a nod before walking robotically to the garden. I meant to go to the living room but my feet moved without me really noticing. When I finally 'woke up' from my stress-induced haze, I was kneeling next to the yellow roses, staring blankly into their kaleidoscope of petals. I blinked twice.

"Ahh... well, not letting you go to waste, right?"

I picked the rose. I would have preferred the pink peony, but they were too pretty – plus, fate told me this was what I needed. Placing it behind my ear, I suddenly heard Chara nearby.

"Hey, did you do something? There's some more – what did you call it? 'Tasty text?' – over here. It says, 'Yellow rose. Feels significant. ...being cute makes monsters not want to hit you'? Well it's true but... whatever."

"Huh, so it became an armor? Guess I have to keep it, then. Hope it doesn't wilt when we get near the CORE."

From inside the house, Toriel called me. Letting myself back inside, I joined the goat monster at the recognizable, but beautifully laid-out table.

"Aww yeah, twice in a row!" I said, this time no hesitation as I dug into the butterscotch crepes and scrambled eggs.

"Hey, that's bad manners!" Chara teased, pretending to punch me in the shoulder.

I looked up at her. "Yeah, well you're not exactly sitting at the table are you, wise guy?" I smirked, getting a lukewarm but overall positive response.

When we were done, Toriel stood, not reaching to help me with the plates. "Hold on, Grace." She said, holding up a paw. "I will handle that myself today. I'll have... plenty of time. Instead, I need to give you something."

Turning around, she went to her large armchair, which held a package in brightly colored wrapper that I frankly should have noticed sooner.

"What's this?" I raised an eyebrow good-naturedly.

"This is... a physical representation of my thanks for being here this last month and a half or so. It's also so... you don't forget my hugs, and to remind you that you promised to come back." She said that last part with a touch of uncertainty. She still didn't trust me to come back: whether of mine or someone else's accord.

"Thank you so much, aunt Toriel!" I exclaimed, not even having ripped the paper yet. I opened it.

Inside, there was a beautiful, hand-knit sweater in pink with a sky blue pattern. It was remarkably thick and warm, and closed with buttons in the front. So much work went into it – not only were there blue patterns, but the texture was chunky and clean. My eyes lightened up immediately.

"Oh my gosh, Toriel. This is absolutely beautiful!" I picked it out of the box carefully, placing the wrappings onto the table. Holding it up to me, I noted that it was a great fit at I twirled once. I hugged it. "How did you know? How did you know my favorite colors, and my size, and-"

"My dear, it is a mother's- well, loving aunt's job to pay attention. Especially when handmaking gifts."

"I bet you just took one of my shirts from the washing and measured against that." I gave her a sly smile.