Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Susie watched Kris’s long fingers dance across the keys. Warm up. That’s what they’d said. 

They moved their hands across the keys, fast, then slow, then in some loose pattern she couldn’t quite name. She fidgeted. She knew that Kris was just loosening their fingers, and it sucked to admit that even that was throwing her off. Sitting next to them on the raggedy stool, she wondered again why Kris had insisted on doing this. Out there, in the dark world they’d said — they’d said they’d play if she played with them. And in the moment it had felt nice. But now…

***

The piano didn’t sing so much as squawk, but somehow Kris made it almost sound good. They were sitting in the Dreemurr’s spare room, surrounded by old and dusty junk, half-forgotten in that way things got when no one wanted to throw them away. Heck, the instrument they were sitting at was old, dusty junk too, clearly not having been tuned in years. The combination of its cheap construction and clear age implied someone had loved this piano dearly, at least at some point. 

Susie looked away. She imagined a little Kris, playing these same notes, just clumsier. They’d probably be wearing those stupid fake horns, and maybe — maybe Toriel was there, and she wasn’t smiling, smiling even when Kris hit a sour note and pouted, but Kris was happy too, and maybe Asriel, and Asgore were there, and they were smiling too, and everything was so — 

The sudden silence snapped Susie out of her reverie, and she flushed. Good thing Kris couldn’t read her mind. Susie was a Cool Girl so she daydreamed about gore and violence if anyone asked, but sometimes her mind wandered. She was New In Town, not because she’d actually shown up particularly recently, but because compared to everyone else in Hometown, she’d always be a stranger in this town where everyone knew everyone else’s middle name. She didn’t know what the Dreemurr household had been like before. 

Probably happy. 

Kris was looking up at her expectantly. Susie wrung her hands, trying and failing to match their steadiness.

“How much do you remember,” they asked. 

Susie bit her lip.

“I remember that the keys get more shrill from left to right… and the black keys sound kinda funny… Oh!” She brightened. “You have to make it so your hand is curved like — like zombie claws and you put one finger on each key like so…”

The pride was short lived. Before, her hands had been too small. Now, ironically, they were too big. The position felt weird and unnatural, and her sharp claws didn’t help things at all. 

She looked over. Rather than pulling that face people always did when she messed up, Kris just looked… well, like Kris. Silently, they adjusted her palm, squeezing until she gave in and let them move her fingers. Susie was very glad that Kris was so focused on this task, because the sheer intimacy was too much for her to look them in the eye, and she was sure that whatever color she was right now, it wasn’t what she wanted it to be.

“Ok,” said Kris, breaking the spell. “Try now. Press your fingers down one by one.” 

Back to being a disaster in front of her best friend. Susie stiffly pressed her fingers down on the keys. Somehow, it was like the piano could tell she was scared, spitting out every note like it didn’t want them either. She grimaced, glancing at Kris. Still calm. Still annoying.

“Are you having fun,” she asked. Kris startled, a jolt that was almost imperceptible — but Susie saw. 

“I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“Huh??” Susie wrung her hands again. “What do you mean? Why go out of your way if- I mean, if it isn’t fun, why bother?”

“I didn’t say that,” they frowned. They looked away. Susie wasn’t used to Kris being awkward — with other people sure, but not with her. “I said I wasn’t thinking about it. Of course it’s fun. I… I always have fun when we hang out.” 

Susie didn’t know what to do or say, just that she Could Not let Kris see her face right now. She made intense eye contact with the wall.

“I have fun when we hang out too,” she said.

“Really?” At that, she turned. “Because the reason I’m having fun is you are really butchering this scale.”

Susie flushed and pushed Kris over, who grabbed onto Susie’s sleeve to avoid hitting the floor, laughing their little — annoying! — raspy laugh.

Little shit.

She smiled, despite herself. The tension was gone now, and it was her and her best friend and their busted old piano. Kris’s cheeks were flushed — probably from laughing at her so hard — and they looked up at her through long eyelashes and longer bangs, silently catching their breath. They smiled. 

**

By the end of their first lesson, Susie had managed to get through the whole C major scale — right hand and left. Kris had made it look so easy, but it was actually really difficult. Her left hand had felt like it belonged to someone else entirely, and she’d had to play so slowly it made her cringe.

Still, when she finally dragged both hands through the scale at once — clunky and uneven, like boots stomping across a tightrope — Kris gave her a quiet little nod. Their eyes softened. Not in a pity way, but like they were actually proud of her. Her throat tightened up, like something was stuck in it. She had to look away or risk doing something stupid, like smiling too hard.

Then Kris showed her something crazy. They played the same notes again, but this time starting on a different key. Just a few steps over, and suddenly it sounded… sad. Moody, like the kind of music that played in the background when someone walks alone in the rain. Susie blinked. “It’s the same, but not,” she muttered, frowning.

Kris smiled. “It’s called the A minor scale.”

Susie repeated it under her breath, as if giving it a name would help her understand how it worked. It made her feel weirdly smart.

An hour and a half had passed without her noticing. Her fingers ached, her shoulders were sore from hunching, and she was definitely starving — but underneath all that, she felt wired. She caught a glance at Kris as they stood up and stretched. They looked tired too, blinking slowly like a cat in sunlight, but there was something light in their expression. Not a grin, exactly. More like a hum you could see.

Susie followed them into the kitchen, still turning the notes over in her head like a marble in her palm. She couldn’t play anything real yet. But her hands remembered more than she thought they would. 

It was a nice feeling.

Chapter Text

Had the classroom desks always been this small? Susie squirmed in her seat. It was incredibly janky, having put up with Susie’s muscles for months, warped where her knees pushed up against its underside. The shitty desk wasn’t the reason that Susie usually skipped — but it certainly didn’t help. But she was here now. She’d been in the neighborhood, so to speak, so might as well show up.

It had been extremely embarrassing to have to ask Alphys for the keys to the school’s music room. Partially because it meant revealing she was developing such a normal, goody-two-shoes interest (ew), but mostly because her teacher’s response had been to light up in surprise and immediately say yes. She’d stammered, and had avoided eye contact like Susie could kill her with her eyeballs — but she hadn’t said no. In fact, stuttering, she’d just said “O-oh Susie, I’m - I’m so glad.”

Not good. She had a reputation to uphold. 

Susie sighed. Had Alphys been talking to Toriel? She knew that Toriel had a soft spot for her despite her sharp edges, but she was cool enough that it didn’t feel like condescension. Like pity. 

She trusted Alphys much less.

Besides, she only wanted it so she could practice between lessons with Kris. After that last lesson she’d spent the rest of the day tired but vibrating. Her hands and shoulders felt the consequences of strange, unnatural movements, but it didn’t matter. She was bad, but… maybe bad could just mean not good yet. That’s what Kris had said later, when it was just the two of them at the diner. It had sounded like they’d meant it. It had sounded like something someone had told them a long time ago.

Susie had never been not good yet at anything before in her life. Some things she was a natural at — scaring people, hitting things, getting the ball through the hoop on the basketball court. Other things… not so much. She wasn’t smart or pretty, and most fun hobbies needed resources she just didn’t have. How could she justify spending money on things she didn’t know she’d be good at, especially when she’d only find out if she spent the money in the first place. Susie didn’t have a piano, not even a busted up one like Kris did — if her family had the money for that, they’d have a new couch. But the school had a piano, and Alphys said she could practice on it when no one was using it. Being not good yet was actually a lot easier when no one was around to see, so despite herself, she was grateful.

Just as she was about to call it quits on this “paying attention to class” thing, something snapped her to attention.

Talent show…?

“Yes! T-talent show!” Alphys said. Susie blushed — she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

“The talent show,” Alphys continued, “will be happening in two months, and we’re all really excited to see what you guys do. U-uh you’ll want to register ahead of time, and I’ll be passing around forms for you to fill out, so p-please get these back by the end of the week.”

Huh. A talent show. For a moment, she felt a jolt of excitement. Could she…

No. She shook her head. Not her. But, she thought, turning to look at Kris. Kris who clearly wasn’t paying attention and was instead busying themselves with carving Cool S’s into their desk. Maybe Kris could play…?

***

Susie stuck it out for the rest of class for the express purpose of catching up with Kris as they got up to leave. 

“Dude,” she cried, grabbing her friend’s little noodle arm so they couldn’t escape. “You should totally do a piano thing for the talent show.”

Kris turned pale.

“Oh!” Susie and Kris turned at the sudden interruption. It was Noelle, holding on to her backpack’s thin straps, a look of flushed surprise on her face. “Kris - I didn’t know you still played!”

“I don’t,” Kris mumbled, but not loud enough to drown out Susie’s enthusiastic nodding.

“They do! And they’re so good at it - they’ve been trying to teach me and I can barely do the scales with all the white keys, and they know like. Scales with black keys in them!”

Noelle’s smile suddenly looked a little more… complicated.

“That’s so cool,” she said, looking at Kris. “Even way back when we were kids, Kris never actually let me listen even though I knew they were very good. You’re so lucky...”

For their part, Kris looked like they wanted to wriggle out of their skin. They were such a weirdo, Susie thought. If she were half as good as Kris, she’d want the whole world to hear. But she’d never claimed to be a master Kris-understander anyway — maybe only Kris themself was, and even then, only half the time. In an act of supreme mercy, Susie let go of Kris’s arm, and changed the subject for them.

“Well - actually Noelle, I wanted to tell you, I think I beat your record in Monster Kart..”

***

“Kris, can I… come over tonight.”

They looked at Susie like she had grown a second head. She took that as a yes.

They were hanging out near the river, listening to the breeze. It was kinda nice, the quiet. Kris was back to normal, and had been skipping rocks while Susie watched. She hadn’t brought up their conversation from earlier, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been on her mind. What was up with Kris?

When they eventually tore themselves away from the cool breeze and made it home, Toriel was waiting for them. She didn’t seem surprised that Susie was staying over — she even seemed, maybe, kinda happy to see her. She’d been coming over often enough that Toriel, though she’d never admit it, was starting to feel a little like a second mom. And with how Toriel discreetly kept the kitchen stocked with Susie’s favorites and always made extra, it sometimes felt like Toriel might see her as a daughter too. 

In her guiltiest moments, she sometimes wished she really was.

Kris caught her eye before she could get too into her head. They’d been beating her ass at video games tonight, not because she was bad but because she was distracted — distracted by the Dreemurr family piano, waiting in the other room. 

Kris grinned at her. Sometimes it felt like they could read her mind. 

“Do you wanna go play?” 

Susie couldn’t hide her excitement if she tried.

Yes!

***

“I wanna hear you play,” Kris smiled. What a scam, thought Susie. Playing was great (especially when she was alone), but hearing Kris play was even better. Kris gave her a look that probably meant something like it’s my piano and you have to do what I say. Susie rolled her eyes and obliged.

The notes came out timidly. She played C major and A minor with both hands, and then bravely eked out Mary Had a Little Lamb, just the melody, with her right hand.

She looked over, and was baffled by the naked admiration on Kris’s face.

“It’s awful,” she corrected. 

Kris shook their head.

“You’ve been practicing,” they said, like it was a rebuttal. “At school?”

Susie looked away, cheeks flaming. It was embarrassing to be so openly passionate about something she wasn’t even good at. Kris seemed to sense this, and looked away too.

“Sorry,” they mumbled. Their voice was small, but in a different way than usual. “I just… like being excited about something with you.”

It was so sincere Susie kinda wanted to throw up, but any barbs she had lined up died on her tongue when she turned to see Kris’s unsteady expression, their trembling lips. They looked chapped.

“We’re excited about lots of things together,” she said instead, “like the Dark World and Ralsei and video games and, like, loads of stuff!”

Kris narrowed their eyes.

“Yeah but this is different!”

“Why?”

”It just is.” Kris thought it over. “Playing piano is special because — it’s something special and I like having things that are just for me.”

And me, thought Susie, but she didn’t say it. She sorta got it, though. It sounded like how she felt about the Dark World. It was special, something just for her and Kris, and she got to be herself without anyone being… weird. But, she thought, this was different. She needed the Dark World and Ralsei and all the other stuff because the real world kinda sucked and she just didn’t fit somehow. A square peg in a round hole. Kris was weird and kind of a loser, but people liked them. People wanted to hear them play. 

Before she could say anything, Kris interrupted her train of thought.

“You know Susie, maybe you can play at the talent show.”

Chapter Text

“WHAT??”

Susie practically fell off the bench.

“No. Absolutely not. I am not doing the talent show.”

Kris blinked. “Why not?”

“Because I’m bad,” she spluttered, bewildered at having to explain this at all.

“I can barely do scales. I don’t even know the names of the notes. I can’t read the little dots and lines—”
Sheet music, Kris corrected under their breath
“—and it’s in two months? That’s, like, basically tomorrow!”

Kris tilted their head. “It’s 60 whole tomorrows, which is more than enough time.”

Susie scowled.

“Listen,” she said like she was talking to a toddler. “It’s a Talent Show. A Talent Show, it’s in the name — people wanna see folks doing cool stuff. They don’t wanna hear shitty music, and I don’t wanna have to play shitty music for a crowd. Only you get to see me embarrass myself like this.”

Kris gave her that look they got when a self-deprecating joke went too far. There was a weird tension in the air that Susie couldn’t understand — it was nice that Kris was so supportive, but surely they could tell a good performance from a bad one.

Susie buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Ughhh. Okay. Fine. If I was gonna do it - and I won’t, but let’s pretend - I’d only do it as a duet. That way if I mess up, we’re both in the hot seat. Dealbreaker. Duet or nothing.”

She leaned back, smug. A foolproof out.

Kris stiffened.

Susie smiled. Mission accomplished.
“So we agree,” she continued, already halfway to relief. “No duet, no show. I get to keep my dignity, and you don’t have to tear your soul out your chest in public or whatever”

Kris looked away.

Paused.

Longer pause.

Then slowly, like their soul was dragging their mouth behind it, they said: “…Okay.”

Susie sat up straight so fast she nearly cracked her spine.

“WHAT???”

Kris didn’t look at her.

“You just said—” she sputtered, “I’d only have to do it if you did it, and you wouldn't do it, so I was safe! This was a trap! You weren’t supposed to agree!”

Kris shrugged. “Guess we’re doing a duet.”

“No! You can’t — you said this was your special thing! You can’t just change your mind???”

Kris looked back at her, completely serene. “It’s different if it’s the two of us. I’m not being particularly, ah, vulnerable if every time it sounds bad everyone knows it’s your fault, not mine.”

Susie glared. It wasn’t fair that Kris had their way with words even in the Light World, while she had to lose her axe. At her angry silence, seemed pleased with themself.

“So since we’re in agreement—” (they weren’t) “—we need to pick a song and also set a regular cadence for practice. So you don’t embarrass yourself on the day.”

Susie snorted.

“What if I back out?”

“You won’t — you wanted me to play, and it’s only fair if you’re making me do this you have to play as well. It’s only fair.”

It wasn’t fair! Susie wasn’t making anyone do nothing and Kris knew that, they just wanted to be a little shit. She stopped herself from retorting — they were right, she did want them to play. Susie had looked so wistful at the thought, and they were so good. What a waste if no one heard.

“Ok,” she said, trying to make it sound like anything but a capitulation. Kris grinned victoriously anyway.

***

Telling Alphys after school that they’d be performing a piano duet with Kris felt like losing a dare. She beamed up at Susie — twice her age, half her height — and clasped her hands.

“I-I’m so glad you decided to engage with this,” she smiled, absolutely annihilating Susie with faint praise. It was no secret that she didn’t usually, hmm, prioritize curricular let alone extra curricular events, but there was no need to rub it in. If it weren’t for the fact that she’d promised Kris, she’d have changed her mind and planned a proactive date with the river. It wasn’t like she was excited or anything. That would be lame.

Alphys fished around in her purse.

“I-I know I already said this,” she squeaked, “but you really can use the music room whenever you want to practice. Almost no one else u-uses it.” Triumphant, she held up a small, weathered key. “Let’s go!”

Susie followed along. She had half a mind to just ask for the key, but she knew her reputation preceded her. They wound around long empty corridors, before coming to a stop in front of a small, ratty door. Alphys turned the key, and gestured for Susie to go in ahead.

No matter how many times she stopped by, it never stopped feeling less like a small room and more like a big junk drawer. It was littered with musical contraptions she was sure she’d never seen in her life. Most were shiny and metal (pep band?) along with a host of dismantled reeds and flutes. But there, in the corner, was what she was here for.

The world’s shittiest little piano.

Like a dying dog holding on for its master, she was sure if she didn’t play it, it would collapse out of sheer grief and neglect.

As Alphys left, Susie sat down on the little stool, or what passed for one anyhow. She’d barely tapped out a couple (very off-key) notes when there was a knock at the door. She turned, and her eyes lit up despite herself.

Kris!

She quickly sidled over, making space for her friend. Kris bounded in, side-eying all the clutter. Clearly their first time in this room. Not that it mattered, but it was kinda nice being the expert for once.

The stool wasn’t really wide enough for two people, but they managed to fit. It was a good thing Kris was so small and Susie didn’t care about personal space — any closer and they’d probably fuse. Kris’s legs dangled off the bench, swinging back and forth. The motion made them look petite next to Susie—especially with the soft, absentminded hum that accompanied it. She could always tell there was something going on underneath. Before it had felt like a provocation. Someone else keeping cruel secrets. Now it was comfortable. She almost looked forward to it.

The clattering of keys snapped her out of her reverie.

“This piano is not in tune,” said Kris. Susie honestly hadn’t noticed — she wasn’t good enough to know when a piano was in tune, and every other piano she’d ever played had kinda sucked so she had no real frame of reference. Plus, Kris made everything sound good. They spoke piano in a way Susie just didn’t.
Susie made Kris play something every time they practiced together, and today was no different. By now she had to do little but elbow them and grunt, and they would sigh and begin their performance.
It was never the same piece. Susie wasn’t sure if they were improvising or just had an infinite well of music in their little head. It was always beautiful, though. Sometimes it was slow and melancholy, and sometimes it was fast and jittery. Kris would periodically wince, as if they’d played a sour note only they could hear. To Susie, it was all the same.

Today, they played a funky little tune, clearly trying to work around the limitations of the piano. If it wasn’t tuned, it was probably like a controller with a hundred buttons, and Kris had to memorize what sounds each key actually made. That actually sounded kind of fun, Susie thought.

When Kris was done, it was Susie’s turn. She’d long gotten used to the whiplash that came from following after Kris, and she proudly played her janky scales and arpeggios. They seemed to appreciate Susie’s playing as much as she appreciated theirs, which made no sense, but what was she gonna do.

“I was looking online for things we could play at the talent show,” she said, taking her hands off the keys.
Susie couldn’t see their face for their hair, but she could feel the smirk forming.
“Wow, someone’s excited,” Kris giggled.
“Just a little!” She retorted. “Anyway.”
She fished out her phone and tapped around.
“The internet says that maybe a good beginner song could be, um, this one.” She offered her phone over and Kris leaned in. She tapped play on the video, which showed two pairs of hands playing a simple yet pleasing tune. One pair of hands was doing something relatively simple, while the other went absolutely wild. Somehow it all fit together. Kris regarded the video softly.
“Heart and Soul…”
“Is that okay?” Susie asked, suddenly flustered. She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she’d expected, but this thoughtful melancholy was not it.
“We don’t have to! I just thought it seemed easy enough — you could do the hard parts — or we could play Twinkle Twinkle or Mary Had a Little Lamb but those are too childish even for me and we might as well pick something we like and also we don’t even have to play at the show at all — we can still tell Alphys we don’t want to—”
“No, it’s a great idea.”
Susie paused. She looked down at Kris who looked like they were trying to seem normal. Not a natural look for Kris, unfortunately.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, no, the title just made me think.” They smiled at Susie’s confusion. “It’s a, uh, human thing.”
Susie did not know much about so-called human things, so she just accepted it. Maybe the human thing in question was being just a weirdo, but that was Kris’s right.
“Ok,” she said. “Well how do we start? Do we look up sheet music?”
At that, Kris went a bit red.
Susie blinked. That wasn’t the reaction she expected. “What’s the matter?”
Kris mumbled, eyes dropping to the bench. “I never learned to sight read.”
“Huh?” Susie tilted her head. “Like… what does that mean?”
“The sheet music,” Kris clarified, still not quite meeting her eye. “I can’t read it.”
That caught Susie off guard. “Wait, seriously? Then—how the hell do you play so well?”
Kris’s shoulders twitched, just barely. “I don’t play well. I just… play by ear.”
Susie leaned back a little, never having considered this mode of playing. “That’s kinda cool.”
“No it isn’t,” Kris said quickly, their voice unusually sharp, then just as fast, softened. “Anyway.”
They glanced at the video again, as if anchoring themselves. “I’ll probably just go home and listen to this a bunch of times. Over and over. I can see his hands in the video, so it’s easy.”
Susie frowned. “Okay… but what about me? What am I supposed to do?”
Kris waved a hand, as if brushing her concern aside. “I’ll learn both parts. It’s not that hard. And you can try copying the video too. Or just go by ear, like me. We’ll figure it out. It doesn’t have to be exact.”
That sounded like a plan, at least. “Okay!” Susie said, with more enthusiasm than she actually felt.
Then, after a beat, her voice dipped. “Do you still think we’ll be good in two months?”
Kris turned to her, nodding without hesitation. “Of course.”
“Yeah, we totally will,” said Susie, trying really hard to believe it.

Chapter Text

“Ugh, wrong again!”

Susie lightly smashed her fingers down onto the keys, a frustrated, discordant almost-chord. While it had only taken Kris about a week to figure out how to play Heart and Soul, it was taking Susie a lot longer. She didn’t mind too much, though. Trying meant failing, and failing meant embarrassment. But still she was trying, and to her immense surprise, it was actually kinda fun, even when she missed most of the notes and their tempos didn’t quite match. Whenever she hit the wrong key she’d grumble and grouse, but Kris would just laugh, making fun of her but also not really. She would never ask, but she had a feeling that Kris felt the same way she did. The looming prospect of actually performing the piece in front of other people only put a slight damper on the fun.

This particular evening, they were back in Kris’s basement, practicing on the old Dreemurr piano. It was less dusty now, a combination of how much they’d been using it and Direct Susie Action (all the dust had been making her sneeze). As usual, Kris sat to her left, trilling away at the needlessly complicated harmony, while Susie was in charge of the melody, the part that she could actually parse.

Initially they’d mostly used the music room at school, but Kris’s piano just sounded better, and getting the notes out didn’t feel like pulling teeth. Their performance deadline was only getting sooner, and they needed all the practice time they could get. Or rather, Susie did. Kris sounded fine, as far as her undiscerning ears could tell, so why they insisted on practicing with her every day was, like everything about Kris, a bit of a mystery. If she could play half as well as they could, she probably wouldn’t bother with practicing all the time. Or maybe it was the practicing all the time that made them so good? It was a bit above her pay grade — she just liked hanging out with Kris.

Besides, all the practice came with free dinner! By no means was she starving back home, but no one there cooked quite like Toriel. Elaborate meals, homemade desserts, extra servings — Toriel always insisted on going all out. Maybe that kind of thing was just fun for her. She’d even spotted a “Draguin Cuisine” cookbook once, buried in a drawer. She had no idea what made anything “Dragon Cuisine” — she hadn’t grown up with cultural dishes or anything — but it was the thought that counted.

Or maybe she just looked forward to Kris bringing a friend over. The sap. She leant over and gave them a noogie. Kris yelped indignantly — they hadn’t done anything in particular, but maybe they’d been thinking something. Couldn’t have that.
Besides, making Susie think such sentimental thoughts was a severe crime that could not go unaddressed.

There was a sudden knock. Susie jumped. It hadn’t been a particularly violent noogie, but maybe Toriel heard Kris yell and was mad and was gonna send her away and —

She turned, ready to apologize, but it was just Toriel, leaning gently by the open door frame.

“How is your practice going?”

Kris stayed silent. She glanced over at them. It was hard to tell through their bangs, but she could see a flustered expression that she was still unused to on their face.

“It’s going fine,” Kris mumbled

“That’s wonderful to hear,” she smiled. “So this is for the talent show?” Toriel asked, settling into a chair. “Alphys mentioned it. She was practically glowing.”

Alphys told her? Susie looked over at Kris again, who looked like they wanted to disappear. Their dynamic with their mom was another one of the infinite things about them she couldn’t really understand. There was never any venom when they spoke but there was also a tension she couldn’t put her finger on. As curious as she was, she knew she wasn’t gonna get answers anytime soon. That was the price of having a friend who didn’t pet into your own family stuff, she supposed.

Toriel took their silence in stride.

“I’d love to hear what you have practiced so far, if you wouldn’t mind. Won’t you play a little for me? If it’s no trouble? I’ve been overhearing a little from upstairs and it sounds beautiful.”

Susie looked back at Kris. Their head was down, face red. It wasn’t a yes — but more importantly, it wasn’t a no.

“Yes, we’d love to,” said Susie before Kris could do anything else. Toriel lit up with delight.

“I’m not very good though,” she added hurriedly. It wouldn’t do for her to get too excited after all. Toriel just laughed.

“You sound just like Kris when they were younger, and I always loved to hear them on the piano regardless. I’m sure I’ll love to hear you play as well.”

***

It wasn’t great — not by a long shot. The tempo dragged, and they both stumbled through the notes, Susie more than Kris, though she noticed Kris slipping more than usual too. Their playing felt stiff, cautious. Still, when they finished, Toriel looked soft and wistful, her expression distant in a way that felt like she was looking at something, someone, that wasn’t really there.

“That was very beautiful,” she said, her voice warm. “You’re both such talented children.”

Kris and Susie both went red.

“No I’m not,” Susie blurted, cringing. But Toriel only chuckled.

“I know it’s not perfect yet,” she said gently, “but I could hear how much you’ve been practicing. That means more than getting every note right.”

Her smile faded slightly. Her eyes drifted toward the keys, unfocused.

“That’s what Asgore used to say…”

The air shifted. She had said too much, and now she was quiet. Susie didn’t need the full story — she’d met the man, and that told her enough. The Dreemurrs had clearly been through something. She knew what it was like to live in a house that was technically whole but still felt broken.

So instead of pressing, Susie just said, “It’s been really fun, playing with Kris. They’ve been teaching me every night.”

Toriel smiled again, brighter this time. “Don’t be mad,” she said, “but I have been looking forward to listening to you both every night. I can really hear how you’ve only been getting better and better.”

Kris went pale, while Susie choked. They really shouldn’t have been that surprised—Kris, especially, who had grown up overhearing too much through very thin walls. But Susie found herself imagining something else. A Dreemurr home once full of music. Asgore’s steady, confident chords, Kris and Asriel’s messy, hesitant melodies. The song of a happy family.

Susie didn’t know what it was like to have one of those. For better or worse, she didn’t know what it was like to lose one either.

The moment broke. Somewhere in the house, a phone rang.

“Oh! That’s Carol,” Toriel said, rising to answer it.
Seeing the pair’s faces, she laughed.

“Don’t be like that! You troublemakers might be used to a certain side of hers, but she’s a good friend to our family.”

She paused, then added, “Oh, and we’ve been chatting about the show. She’s excited to hear you play. She said Noelle will be performing too, on violin.”

Kris and Susie exchanged a look.

Yikes.