Reunitedtale

I

(Chara's view)

I clapped my hands together to clean them. Dust motes and particles of dirt that had clung to my hands like it was their lifeline rained downwards, barely visible on the freshly-cleaned purple brick. I had been toiling for a month now, working to get the Underground clean and stocked with food and other necessities. Now that I was "alive," I had to start thinking of provisions. Eventually we would run out, but I had picked up a few tricks from Sans while Frisk was still unaware, and now I could just reach into another universe and grab some food. Now I took the Instant Noodles out of my inventory, eating them right out of the cup without even bothering to cook them. As I crunched the noodles, I remembered a time when there was food better than this. There were Temmie Flakes that were colorful and flavorful despite being just torn up bits of construction paper, golden flower tea, and snail pie—which, oddly enough, didn't taste too bad. And then my favorite, which also ended up as the food that I hated most—butterscotch pie. A memory came rushing back, and despite my efforts, expanded until I was reliving it.

* What?

Asriel asked, confused. The camera in his hands dipped slightly lower.

* Do you remember the pie?

I wrote, the text appearing in midair. The camera was hoisted up again, and the confusion sloughed off his face.

* Oh, yeah, I remember. When we tried to make butterscotch pie for Dad, right?

I nodded, bending down and picking a small, yellow flower. I examined it as it was, pinched between my two fingers. Asriel continued talking.

* The recipe asked for cups of butter . . . but we accidentally put in buttercups instead!

I threw the buttercup to the ground, disinterested. I could tell Asriel still wanted to talk, and now would be a perfect time to try and start setting things up for my plan, so I wrote,

* Asgore looked so terrible afterwards.

* I felt horrible. . . .

Of course, I had merely noted the fact that buttercups were poisonous and shoved the "guilt" aside, laughing hysterically, but Asriel did not know that—nor did he need to. In fact, it would be beneficial to me if he didn't know.

* Yeah! Those flowers got him really sick.

Asriel pouted, the camera dipping.

* I felt so bad.

He paused.

* We made Mom really upset.

He started tearing up and I cocked my head at him curiously, interested. Maybe I could take advantage of that, make him feel more insecure. Make my plan work even better, progress ahead of time. Asriel "accidentally" dropped his camera and almost collapsed after it, hiding his face as he picked up the camera. I pursed my lips, shaking my head disapprovingly as he slowly rose. He kept his eyes to the ground and said, abashed,

* I should have laughed it off, like you did. . . .

I rolled my eyes at him, thinking, Yeah, right. You could not have. You are too weak and unsuspecting, too gullible, Asriel. Asriel shifted his weight from one paw to the other, then glanced riskily up at me, then down again.

* Um, anyway, where are you going with this?

Ah, here we were. But I could not let anyone else realize our plans and ruin them before I even got a chance to try them.