You Can't Sleep in the Same Bed!

"Oh my goodness, this is taking even longer than I expected."

Toriel muttered as she took out her phone. She was just about to call Frisk when she spotted the two children waving at her from a short distance away.

She hurried over, full of worry. "Oh my goodness, did you walk all the way here yourselves? Are you hurt? Not even a scratch? Wow! That's amazing!"

Then she sighed. "Well, it really was irresponsible of me to leave you there like that. I suppose I shouldn't keep this from you any longer."

Toriel took the two children by their little hands and led them toward the house. "Look at the surprise I've prepared for you! A home! What do you think? Do you like it? Let's go inside!"

The children saved their game, then entered [Home].

"Can you smell it? Surprise! It's a butterscotch-cinnamon pie! I thought we should celebrate your arrival. I hope settling down here will make you happy, so I decided not to make snail pie tonight. Come over here. I have another surprise for you."

Toriel led the two children to the doorway of a small room. "Here it is... a room of your very own! You seem to get along so well, so I thought you'd be happy to share a room!"

Linde and Frisk looked a little awkward. They were just about to say something when Toriel turned around with a frown.

"Is something burning...? Hmm, please have a look around and make yourselves at home."

With that, she ran toward the kitchen.

The two decided to look inside the room first. There was only one bed, which looked to be about two meters by one and a half meters. It wasn't especially large for two children, but it was certainly big enough.

"Hmm, I'm tired anyway. Resting here for a bit sounds nice," Linde hinted.

Frisk thought it over, then nodded in agreement.

However...

"Not you!" Frisk shoved Linde away and crawled under the covers herself. "You're nothing but trouble! You're not allowed up here!"

Linde gave her a speechless look. "You have to at least let me have some of the blanket."

Without a word, Frisk pulled part of the blanket out and let it fall to the floor.

Linde crawled into the heap of blanket on the floor and bundled himself up, using it as both a mattress and a covering to make himself a cozy little nest.

Perhaps because they had been through so much underground in such a short time, both children were mentally exhausted and soon fell asleep.

A little while later, Toriel opened the door and slipped quietly inside, carrying a plate with two slices of pie.

She paused at the sight inside the room, then chuckled to herself. This child certainly tosses and turns in his sleep. He's rolled all the way onto the floor.

Toriel set the pie aside, picked up the sleeping Linde, and laid him on the bed.

Once she was done, she quietly switched off the bedside lamp the two children had forgotten to turn off, then tiptoed out and closed the door.

Of course, Toriel wasn't worried that anything would happen between them. After all, the two children were only ten.

"Mmm... I slept so well..." Frisk slowly opened her eyes...

She froze at the sight before her.

Huh? Why am I lying on top of him? Wait, how did he get onto the bed?

Frisk's face immediately turned bright red. Furious, she grabbed Linde's ear, ready to give it a yank.

But looking at the soundly sleeping Linde, she held herself back in the end.

She looked around first. The light was off, and there were two slices of butterscotch-cinnamon pie on the floor. Oh, I must have blamed him unfairly. Toriel probably carried him onto the bed.

And just like that, Linde escaped disaster without ever knowing it.

Frisk climbed down from the bed, put on her shoes, and tucked the pie into her backpack.

Then she began looking around the room.

There were some cool toys at the foot of the bed, but she had no interest in them at all.

On the other side of the head of the bed stood a wardrobe, with no clothes inside.

The table beside the wardrobe held only an empty picture frame, filled with dust.

In the shoe cabinet nearby were some children's shoes. She had no idea whom they belonged to.

Finally, the bedside lamp stood quietly in the corner, giving off no light.

Frisk didn't switch on the lamp. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed and curiously studied Linde's sleeping face.

She had asked him plenty of questions about himself, but Linde was often tight-lipped and revealed nothing, which only made her more curious about the boy before her.

More importantly, although Linde hid it very well, she had still noticed something-

Linde seemed to know her and was even somewhat familiar with her, which made her wonder whether she had met him before.

She stared straight at Linde, leaning closer and closer to his face, as though trying hard to remember when she might have met him.

Just then, Linde suddenly opened his eyes.

The two stared blankly at each other. About three seconds later, Frisk dashed away, practically turning into a steaming kettle.

Linde seemed groggy from sleep. Rubbing his head, he sat up in a daze. "Uh... just now... were you..."

"No! Not at all! You saw wrong!"

"But your face is really red..."

"Shut up!"

In the end, Linde still failed to escape the judgment of Frisk's iron fist.