The front page of the *Ebott Daily* carried his own face. Frisk stopped in front of the bulletin board along the school route. The October morning air was already cold, and their breath came out faint and white. Even in their uniform blazer, a chill crept along the nape of their neck. The headline read, in bold type: **"One Year Since the Barrier Fell — Hero Frisk to Speak at Upcoming Commemorative Ceremony."** The photo was from a ceremony a little while back. A smile forced into place. The eyes weren't smiling at all. Frisk lowered their deep brown eyes. Their black hair — not quite long enough to brush the shoulders, the bangs — hid their expression for them. "[whispers] ...Just leave me alone." It came out aloud. Quietly enough that no one could have heard. Unconsciously, their thumb traced the old burn scar on the back of their left hand. Hidden by the uniform sleeve, but they always knew it was there. The memory of Toriel's fire — the one thing that hadn't vanished no matter how many times they reset. Their slender body carried countless scars from the Underground. Now they all lay hidden beneath their clothes. The white button-down shirt of Falls High School, the deep green blazer, the checked slacks. Only the non-regulation black high-top sneakers felt like some last remnant of who they really were. A hero, huh. Without raising their eyes, Frisk stepped away from the bulletin board. When they entered the classroom, the air felt like it had shifted a little. It wasn't their imagination. The group in the back seats was looking their way and saying something. Maybe they thought they were keeping their voices down, but the words reached Frisk's ears all the same. "Look, it's the 'hero' who sold their soul to the monsters." "Wish they'd just say something already." Pretending not to hear, Frisk headed for their seat. Second from the back by the window. A seat with a view of the street trees in the schoolyard. They set down their bag and pulled out the chair. They didn't meet anyone's eyes. In the seat behind them sat MK, the monster. An armless, yellow reptilian-type monster. They were always looking at Frisk with worry. Probably were right now, too. Frisk pretended not to notice. If they acknowledged it, they'd have to say something. And if they said something, they'd surely end up lying. They opened their notebook. First period hadn't started yet. Their hand moved the pen on its own. Before they knew it, the edge of the page held the shape of a long, slender blade. The Real Knife. Flustered, Frisk erased it with their eraser. Their heart pounded, and their fingertips trembled slightly. *(The real me isn't a hero or anything of the sort.)* A voice spoke inside their head. Words they repeated countless times every day. Words they could never say to anyone. *(If anything, it's the opposite.)* Second period was Monster-Human Integration History. The middle-aged teacher explained, following the textbook. The great war between humans and monsters hundreds of years ago. How seven human mages had cast a barrier beneath Mount Ebott and sealed the monsters inside. How roughly eight thousand monsters had lived in darkness for centuries. "And then, one year ago — a historic day arrived for our city." The teacher's voice suddenly rang out clearly. "Frisk descended into the Underground, forged bonds with the monsters, and at last brought down the barrier." The air in the classroom went taut, electric. "Without Frisk, the monsters would still be trapped underground to this day. They are a true hero to our city." From somewhere, the sound of someone scoffing through their nose. Not just one person. Several of them snickered. Frisk stared fixedly at the barrier's collapse page in the textbook. The letters blurred. *(That's not how it was.)* The teacher didn't know. No one knew. The only reason they'd been able to break the barrier was because they'd reset dozens of times. Because they'd rewound time again and again, and at the end of it all, had the experience of slaughtering every last monster. The Genocide Route. A timeline erased, made into something that "never happened," by a reset. But it was carved into Frisk's soul. Sans remembered it, too. *(I killed everyone. Once.)* Sans, too. Toriel, too. Alphys, too. MK, too. All of them, by their own hand. The reset had erased it, so no one remembered. But Frisk remembered. "Next period, we'll be holding a debate." The teacher's voice pulled their awareness back to reality. "The topic is 'Human-Monster Coexistence in Ebott City — Achievements and Challenges of This Past Year.' Everyone, please share your opinions actively." The area around Frisk's stomach clenched tight. The debate began, and the atmosphere turned unpleasant almost immediately. "I hear monsters go wild with magic at night." "Public safety's gotten worse in our school district." "Why do we have to be the ones living in fear?" Voices rose from the human students one after another. There was no basis for any of it. Just rumors, or groundless anxieties, spoken as if they were fact. The monster students stayed silent in the corners. Too few in number to raise their voices. MK swayed their body as if wanting to say something. The teacher looked toward Frisk. "Frisk. You actually interacted with the monsters in the Underground and guided them to the surface. Based on that experience, do you have any thoughts to share?" Every gaze in the classroom gathered on them at once. The human students' eyes, a mix of hostility and curiosity. The monster students' eyes, a mix of hope and anxiety. MK's eyes, aimed straight at them. Frisk's throat seized up, rigid and dry. *(I have to say something. I have to say something in defense of the monsters.)* But what would happen if they did? The human kids would hate them even more. They might even get attacked. They were already being badmouthed behind their back as it was. *(But if I stay silent, I'll be betraying the monsters.)* MK was waiting, hopeful. With those earnest, direct eyes. They couldn't say anything. No voice came out. Their mouth wouldn't open. The silence lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. "Guess the 'hero' can't answer either." Someone said it. A mocking voice. Several of them scoffed through their noses again. Frisk saw it, clear as day — the light of hope fading from MK's eyes. After the debate ended, as they stepped into the hallway, a voice came from behind. "[sad] Frisk... I thought you, of all people, would say something." They turned. MK stood there, their armless body swaying faintly. Saying only that, MK walked away. Their small back grew distant. Frisk stood frozen in the hallway, unable to move. *(Because I don't want to hurt anyone, I can't choose anything. But that very indecisiveness ends up hurting everyone in the end.)* They knew. They'd known for a long time. But they didn't know what to do about it. After school, Frisk left the school gates without speaking to anyone. They walked. In about fifteen minutes, they reached Riverside Park. A long, narrow park stretching along the Falls River, sparsely populated now that it was past four on an October afternoon. Streetlamps stood at even intervals, not yet lit. At the south end stood a great willow tree, eighty years old. The bench beneath it had always been a place just for Frisk. They sat down. The river's surface glittered, reflecting the afternoon light. The river was about fifteen meters across. The current was so gentle that staring at it too long created the illusion that time had stopped. They took out their smartphone. Inside the photo folder was a hidden folder. They opened it. Photo after photo of the Underground appeared. The first one. A day in snowy Snowfall, building a snowman with Sans. Sans wore his usual grinning face, but he looked somehow happy. The second one. A photo from the day Toriel baked buttermilk pie for them for the first time in her kitchen. They could still recall the sweet scent of the pie baking. The third one. The day they toured Alphys's Core Lab. Her profile, eyes sparkling, surrounded by countless machines. "[whispers] I'm not the hero who broke the barrier." They murmured it aloud. "The truth is, I'm a coward who can't choose anything. Worse than that — I'm a murderer who killed everyone once." The wind swayed the willow branches. Only the murmur of the river seemed to answer. "And yet, all three of them care about me so much. Toriel, like a mother. Sans... as a friend, and probably more than that. Alphys, too — she's always looking out for me." The screen of the phone in their hand slowly dimmed. "But if I choose someone, I'll hurt someone else. So I keep running away. Even though I can't reset anymore." The burn scar on their left hand throbbed. Just their imagination. But it felt like it was definitely radiating heat. "It's not kindness. It's all the flip side of atonement. I just want to look away from my own sins." Frisk didn't notice. At the branching point of the great willow's limbs — in a spot cleverly camouflaged against the color of the bark — a tiny lens had been installed. An ultra-high-sensitivity surveillance device, just under two centimeters in diameter. Developed by Alphys, it recorded Frisk's voice, their expressions, everything, and transmitted it all in real time to Alphys's terminal at the Core Lab. It was past five-thirty in the evening. Frisk stood up and began walking toward Toriel's house. Along a quiet street in the southwest residential district. A two-story house with white outer walls. In the garden flowerbed, the Echo Flowers transplanted from the Underground were wilting slightly, unable to adjust to the surface climate. "[gentle] You're late, my child. Where were you?" When they opened the front door, Toriel was waiting. A large, goat-like monster with soft white fur. A former queen, and now Frisk's "mother." Her figure, draped in a purple robe, radiated both gentleness and dignity at once. "I was at the park." "The sun sets so early at that park these days — I really wish you wouldn't stay out too late. You're a hero, after all. If something were to happen, it would be terrible." Entering the living room, the fireplace flames flickered and danced. The fire, managed by Toriel's fire magic, swayed gently in resonance with her emotions. The room was filled with the scent of homemade buttermilk pie. As Frisk sat in a chair, Toriel offered them a sliced piece of pie. They took a bite. Sweet. The same taste as when they'd first eaten it in the Underground. But why did their chest feel tighter now than it had back then? "Where are you going after school tomorrow?" Toriel asked as she poured after-dinner tea. "I'll come pick you up at school at four o'clock. Then we'll go to City Hall together and discuss the speech for the commemorative ceremony." Her tone brooked no argument. Gentle, but a voice that absolutely allowed no refusal. "...Okay." Frisk answered shortly. That was all they could say. Affection was slowly turning into control. Her worry was genuine. The fireplace flames swayed warmly, as if to prove it. That was precisely why they couldn't refuse. After dinner, they returned to their room and closed the door. Leaning against the wall, they exhaled deeply. They looked up at the ceiling. "[whispers] Toriel really does care about me." Yes. There was no doubt about that. "But living in this house... I can't breathe." They couldn't say it. They absolutely couldn't say it. It was past two in the morning. Frisk jolted awake. Their whole body was drenched in cold sweat, their heart hammering violently. They'd been dreaming. The Judgment Hall of the Underground. The floor stained red. In their hand, the cold feel of the Real Knife. Before them stood Sans. The thin body of a skeleton. Not his usual grinning face. The light in his eye sockets was fad