*Smells familiar.

[dustless]

[warning for child death, gore, general trauma]

Chara's dead. Chara-and-Frisk.

Slice across the throat. Just the one. Still bad. It makes their own hurt like their scar's peeling open.

But they've got a job to do now, because--Frisk just can't leave them there. To rot. For other people to find.

So they don't.

Takes a lot of work, figuring out how to move their body. Dragging's horrible, even when they thought about using a blanket or something. Carrying them fails, because they're literal dead weight, even if they're pretty scrawny.

In the end, they manage to shift them around until they've got the corpse on their back. The most disgusting and macabre piggyback ride, and Frisk needs to keep being hunched over uncomfortably for it to work, but. It does.

It also leaves them completely covered in blood, especially the half where Chara's head ends up lolling, sending rivulets of red down that side and makes a trail all the way from the bottom of the stairs to the garden. Frisk's not really aware of that. Frisk's not really aware of anything except the steps they need to take.

Bring the body outside, to the garden. Not far from where their body and the first Chara's were buried, actually, though a little more concealed behind a stand of trees. Go get a shovel. Dig.

They won't be able to dig as deep as six feet alone, and they can't build a coffin. Doesn't matter. Frisk just needs to make it big enough for them to fit under the dirt.

Chara-and-Frisk will be back soon enough.






Addendum: one more body, one more burial.

Comments

Burial Number Two

[dustless]

And then they found Kubo.

Or rather, the paper kid, 'cause they never actually learned his name.

Good thing they're not bothering with actual tombstones, they guess. And that they didn't go to the effort to clean themselves up. This kid's been stabbed more. A lot more. Enough that they can't just--carry him on their back like Chara.

He takes a lot more work to move, too. Namely finding a thick blanket to sort of wrap him in (like a mummy's wrapping) to make sure all his guts don't fall out onto the floor, and they sort of half-carry, mostly-drag him to the gardens. Not right next to Chara-and-Frisk but not too far. They're going to have their own little kid graveyard here, aren't they?

They should be feeling more by now, maybe. But they're not. That Frisk doesn't really know this kid at all probably isn't helping.

Anyway.

They wipe their bloody hands on their shirt and pick up the shovel.

Time to dig. Again.

(Although this time, they might not get so mad at anyone who finds them at it.)

[oldmantiger]

Kotetsu has been spending a lot of time in the gardens. He often struggles to find ways to fill his time in the castle, when he's not looking for an escape route, when he's trying not to dwell on the fact that he hasn't found an escape route yet. Staying out in the garden means he can usually spend some time with Grune. And it proves plenty of ways to appreciate the fact that he's real.

When walking no longer holds his interest, Kotetsu climbs. He scales the castle for exercise and just for the sake of exploration, discovering rooms the castle wouldn't let him see from the inside, scaring off pigeons.

Besides, it lets him keep a better eye on the place, on the people in it. So he sees Frisk dragging the...rug? Dragging the thing through the grass. Curiousity means that, when Kotetsu touches down on solid ground again, he goes to investigate.

A hero's instincts never truly waver, however. He notices the spots of...red, in the grass. But somehow refuses to let himself believe what they are. Even so, it leaves the dread mounting higher in the pit of his stomach, until he can feel it as a buzzing in his head as he finally sees Frisk coming into view up ahead.

"Hey, Frisk..." Kotetsu's voice is quiet, careful, and somehow he finds that he can't come too close. "Whatcha doing there?"

[dustless]

Frisk turns.

Eeven though they came up with a cleaner solution than 'carry', they did try, at first. Their arms and sleeves are disgusting, dyed red enough they might've fallen frontfirst into a vat of paint. Except paint doesn't reek like this--but they're already impervious to that.

Plus there's a shovel in their hands, and the blanket that used to be sort of seafoam and really isn't anymore at their feet.

Kotetsu. Another person they didn't want to see this.

"You should go," they suggest bluntly instead of answering.

[oldmantiger]

He can hear his mind grinding like an overwound clock as it tries so, so hard to deny the reality in front of him. But in the end, reality wins out. He's seen plenty of terrible things, after all. He's had people die in his arms, he's seen men burned alive into nothing but ashes.

...somehow, the sight of Frisk standing there covered in...covered in blood is worse than almost any of it. And that rug, at their feet, it's stained with and wrapped around and oh god...

Kotetsu draws in a long, shuddering breath, as though he's just been stabbed as well. His gaze goes from Frisk's face, to their arms, to the blanket, and Frisk will probably be able to see the moment realization fully dawns, a split second before Kotetsu crosses the distance between them in a couple of strides, to kneel down beside the bloodstained bundle.

He moves to carefully unwrap it, his hands almost seeming to act of their own accord, even though he has a pretty good idea of what he's going to find when he does.

[dustless]

Damn it.

They swallow hard.

"Look, Kotetsu, don't, really." They push the shovel's scoop at him, trying to knock his hands away--admittedly none-too-gently, but they're not thinking about that. Or how dirty the shovel already is with actual soil, so that's already showering the blanket a little before it needs to. "You don't want to see--you just don't, so quit it and go." Or at least just quit it. It's a nightmare to see just how carved up that poor kid is.

[oldmantiger]

He's too far gone to even register the pain. Instead, once it sinks in what they're trying to do, his hand lashes out, grabbing hold of the shovel just above the scoop. He tugs hard, trying to tear it out of their grasp. Kotetsu can piece together a situation very, very quickly, when given enough motivation. Upturned dirt, a shovel, a body...he can guess what they're trying to do, even through the fog of horror. And it's something they really, really shouldn't be doing.

Even then, he can't bring himself to unwrap the body all the way. He catches a glimpse of black hair, of a face, and his nerves fail him entirely. Because he does know this child, he saw them when he was dead and they were scared and now they're dead and why is there so much blood...

He falls back into a sitting position, breathing hard, eyes wide and staring unseeing. He presses both hands against his mouth, swallowing back the sudden, piercing urge to be sick. The same thoughts chase themselves around his mind. That is a child. That is a dead child. Someone killed this child.

"Who did this?" he asks around his hands, his tone hard and cold like ice, in a brittle sort of way to mask the fact that he's trying not to fall to pieces. He can't - not while there's another child present.

[dustless]

And if he looks around, maybe he'll spot a drier blood trail leading to another mound not far from here. Frisk's certainly not going to mention it.

They crouch and pull the blanket back, re-covering the kid's face, if only for Kotetsu. They were probably going to unwrap him all the way once they got the hole dug deep enough.

The way he's breathing already telegraphs how messed up he is right now. They're not looking at his face, they can't.

"Nobody you can beat up," they say shortly. "Go...just go, okay."

[oldmantiger]

Kotetsu isn't in any fit state to notice. He's about at his limit on horror. He might notice later, and that will just make it even harder to fight the urge to curl up somewhere and drink himself senseless. Maybe if he clears out the cellar under the kitchen, he'll be able to sleep without remembering this and stop it, damn it, stop it.

He blinks his vision clear, jolted back to life by Frisk's movement. He looks at them, looks at the blanket...and then immediately looks away. As much to get some distance as anything else, he gets to his feet, and when he takes a deep breath it doesn't taste quite as much like blood. His hands are clenched tight at his sides, but it doesn't stop them shaking, even the one that's now clenched tightly around the slick handle of the shovel.

"I can beat up anyone who would do this to a child." Giant crocodiles, evil ghosts, robots, anyone, anyone. Let him find whoever did this and punish them. Let there be justice for this. "Tell me who it was, Frisk. I won't let them get away with this."

[dustless]

They stand up, wiping their hands off. More instinct than anything; there's not a bit of cloth on them that doesn't already have some blood on it, after all.

"No, you can't. You won't." Hopefully.

They step forward. They've collected themselves, they're--better. Definitely handling things better than he is, at the very least.

Frisk holds out their hand. "And--give. Need that back."

[oldmantiger]

Kotetsu grits his teeth, letting out a sound that's something like a growl of frustration. But hen some lingering sense reminds him that the only living target for that frustration right now is Frisk, and so he deliberately tries to reign in his temper, his emotions. He draws in a deep, shuddering breath. When he exhales, it leaves his shoulders slumped a little as a fraction of the tension bleeds out of him. "Why won't you tell me?" he asks, more quietly, his tone carefully neutral in a way that suggests that the only alternative is still a complete and total breakdown.

When they hold out their hand, he stares at them in genuine incomprehension for a moment. Then he follows the line of their gaze to the shovel, and...ah.

The hero's expression grows set and determined once more. He brushes past them to take their spot at the half-dug grave instead. The shovel goes a lot deeper into the ground when he wields it, and piles a lot more dirt out of the way. He doesn't ask before he does this, because a refusal is not the answer he's prepared to hear right now.

[dustless]

"Because. It's...not. Something good to hear. Something you gotta know."

Nobody's thought they did it. That's...kind of flattering, in a really freaky way.

They watch him move, and--oh. A protest rises to their lips and then drops, because he's actually doing pretty good. And it's not so important that they do it in the way it felt for Chara-and-Frisk--they don't know this kid, not even his name.

Maybe Kotetsu knows, though. That makes their chest cold. Maybe that's why he's so upset, they're friends already.

Frisk drifts to his side, just out of reach of the shovel's swing.

[oldmantiger]

That makes him pause. That makes him pause because the words make his chest hurt, the words and the idea that Frisk is trying to protect him. Frisk was dragging this body, this boy to his resting place and digging a grave all by themselves and they're still trying to protect him.

Not something good to hear...

"I hate you!"

"I'll be relieved when you're gone."

"This is your last chance."

"She took a turn for the worst..."

His eyes sting. He ruthlessly blinks them clear and keeps digging. He doesn't know this boy's name, but the fact that he recognizes him makes it worse. Recognition always makes it worse.

And the act helps him settle - the repetitive movement, the satisfying way the dirt gives beneath the impact. The deceptively soft sounds. The way he feels like he's doing something, when he wasn't there to prevent this happening in the first place. Kotetsu waits until he's cleared enough dirt that he's standing on a slightly lower level than Frisk, before he trusts his voice to speak again.

"I've heard a lot of bad things, Frisk. But sometimes, the things that hurt the most to hear are the things that are the most important to say. I've...I've lived through a lot. I've seen a lot. So please, don't think you have to protect me."

He did wonder, for a moment, if they had done this. The steadfast denial, the blood, the attempt at a quiet burial out of the way. But...no. He knows what guilty looks like. He knows what a child caught out looks like. And he likes to think that he knows Frisk, at least a little, enough to know that they would never do this. Not them, not the child who warned him to be gentle with skeletons his first day here.

Not that Kotetsu is prepared to accept that any child could do something like this.

[dustless]

Frisk thought about getting another shovel when Jack was there. Maybe they should've. Then they could be helping--now they kind of get it, though. Why nobody (except the Nightmare King) left. It's not fun to watch, but it'd be even worse to walk away with the sound of shifting dirt behind their back.

"...I'm not telling you who did it. Not--not telling anybody who did it." They wonder who he might be guessing. "But..."

They sigh, quiet and tired and sad. Doesn't matter what Kotetsu's prepared for. He wants to know, and maybe it is important to say now. Instead of waiting for him to try to go find them on his own.

"You wouldn't try to beat up a kid. I think." Right?

[oldmantiger]

Kotetsu freezes up entirely, the shovel half-buried in the dirt, his knuckles clenched white around it. He stares down into the churned-up soil, and past gritted teeth he makes a sound. A soft, wounded, lost sort of sound that's all the weakness he's going to allow himself right now.

After a moment to steady himself as much as he can, Kotetsu goes back to digging. And even now, especially now, there's only one answer he can give to that.

"No. Never." And it's an honest answer, at least.

Some of the blood that hasn't quite dried is on his hands, now. He doesn't seem to have noticed, too lost to thoughts, memories, words.

"...accidents happen. Or kids get...scared, or can't control themselves." Or they get angry. They don't think. He's seen it happen, even if he's never seen it go this far. Somehow, it only occurs to him then just how bad things could have gone with Tony, if Kotetsu hadn't stepped in. But he wasn't there to step in, this time.

"I know that." He pauses to wipe some sweat from his forehead, before he looks down at them with an expression that's serious, but no longer angry. "And I will never, ever hurt a kid, Frisk. I promise."

[dustless]

Frisk bows their head. They'd maybe be hugging their own torso, but the blood on their shirt's sticky in some places and dry enough to be uncomfortable, so they resort to clenching their fists. In the 'wrong way to punch', holding onto their thumbs tight with the rest of their fingers. For the same reasons, it doesn't even occur to them to think of hugging Kotetsu.

No, he wouldn't. That's not what heroes are supposed to do.

It wasn't an accident, but maybe it could seem that way. He didn't really look at the body. Scared, uncontrollable--that was a better fit.

Kotetsu's being shockingly understanding.

"...good. But 'm still not telling right now. It's not...'s really complicated." Not really. Charas hate and distrust humanity. Even if he didn't try to FIGHT them, even if he swore he wouldn't, Frisk doubts there'd be any belief in that.

"Could ask--" they wave a hand at the kid in the shroud "'bout it later, I guess. But...I don't think it'll happen again." God, they hope not.

[oldmantiger]

Kotetsu grits his teeth, and swallows back a fresh surge of frustration with some difficulty. He's being shockingly understanding because he has some understanding of the motivations at work here, or thinks he does. And because Kotetsu has almost never found it in himself to hate anyone. But that still doesn't change the need to ensure that this doesn't happen again. The need to save everyone - even the one responsible for this.

"I still want you to tell me who did this. I want to talk with them." A statement of fact, not a demand or attempt at force. He saves his force for the dirt.

"It can be really easy to think that...hurting people or breaking things is the only way. I know it's not. Because someone once told that to me. I want to make sure they see that." Whoever they are. He runs through a mental checklist of the children he's aware of at the castle. There's one that he does linger on, thinks might be capable of losing control like this. Unbenownst to Kotetsu, he has the right face but the wrong person. He's thinking of the Chara in the other grave he hasn't noticed yet, and hates himself for considering even that much.

[dustless]

"I know..." That he wants to talk, those hurting thoughts.

Kotetsu's a good guy. But he can be kiddish and emotional, and they know that'd be a terrible mix, too.

They're quiet for a moment, eyes tracing the red in the grass. Thinking about how much they should, can say.

"...I...knew that kid. Back. Where I came from," they admit slowly. "A--a version An' if--that kid's like the one I got to be friends with, you can't. You really can't. 'M sorry."

[oldmantiger]

Kotetsu considers arguing further. He very, very much wants to argue further. But at last, he just shakes his head and sighs in frustration and defeat, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"...I'm not going to make you tell me who did this. But...I'm not going to stop trying to figure this out, either."

Frisk isn't the only one who can be determined.

"If you're trying to protect someone...if you're scared for them, I understand. But sometimes, the best thing you can do for your friends is to get them help when they need it." And he doesn't doubt that the one who did this needs help. Kotetsu still firmly believes, even now, that hurting someone isn't a natural state of mind for anyone to be in. Violence weighs on a person. Especially a kid.

But there's no point putting Frisk on the spot when they've already been through enough today. So Kotetsu means it when he says: "But we don't have to talk about this anymore right now."

[dustless]

"...Don't do anything stupid." Even if they're not sure how to quantify that--besides 'everything' if he's going to keep trying.

Help. Yeah, Chara needs help. But Frisk is sure they can do something first, get a better grasp on the situation and actually have a chance at trying. And besides, they can deal with the consequences if they fail, and whether Kotetsu gets hurt or Chara (and really, they can't easily imagine both being fine with that specific one), he doesn't deserve what might happen. Or them either.

"An' I think I helped and can more, just like I did the one I used to know." And that's all they're going to say about it for now.

They wave over the hole and him. Kotetsu's been working hard. "Need a break?"

[oldmantiger]

"Nope." He's been working hard, but he's only just starting to feel it. He's a couple of feet down, now, their height difference made less by the hole in the dirt. "If I have to, I'll use my powers. Don't worry about me." He'll give up a few seconds for this. This is important.

But Kotetsu is very focused on digging. And so he says something that, later on, even he'll admit might not be the best thing to say under the circumstances.

"You're really not good at...being a kid, are you?"

He doesn't mean it as an insult. He mostly sounds surprised, even now, after all he's seen from them.

[dustless]

Oh, right. He has those.

He says that, and Frisk...goes silent and still.

What does that mean? They know it's not an insult, Kotetsu wouldn't do that. But...what does that mean? They can't make heads or tails of it. Isn't it good not to always 'be a kid'? Isn't that 'being mature'?

They don't understand.

In the end, they don't say anything.

[oldmantiger]

Neither does he, for a long moment and another foot of soil.

"...sorry. That was..." What? "...stupid of me to say." It was a lot of other things, too, but that seems like a safe enough summation.

He's definitely starting to feel the ache of shoveling so much dirt. When did he get so old? But Kotetsu is equally certain that he'll be able to finish up without needing to resort to his powers.

"I guess, it's just..." He visibly fumbles for what to say, frustration mounting in his expression. "...people don't die all that often in Sternbild, you know? We're not even supposed to hurt criminals, if we can help it. It had its problems, but...it was still a pretty safe place to be." Even if it had turned out to be safe for all the wrong reasons.

"But you, I can tell you're...used to this. And I guess I just didn't realize until now how dangerous this place really is."

A man burned to death in his arms, once. He never even knew the man's name. Nathan still almost didn't let him go home alone that day, though.

"There were days where I even let myself hope my daughter would come here, too." He'll never make that wish again.

[dustless]

Death is an easier topic to consider. Ironically. (Proving his point.)

They turn their head--not to the body nearby, but to the grave further away. Chara-and-Frisk's. "'S not really...good when it happens, but it's not that bad." Because it doesn't last. "And it doesn't happen a lot, anyway. People're careful. It's the...new people you gotta worry about, and they usually calm down fast, even if they freak out at first."

[oldmantiger]

Kotetsu notes them looking away. Without entirely thinking, he turns his head to follow their gaze, and...oh. Oh, he hadn't noticed that before. Not in the shock of realizing what was really wrapped up in that rug. The dirt on that grave looks...very fresh. Oh boy. Did Frisk already dig that one, too?

...he needs to not dwell on that. Kotetsu keeps his eyes on the dirt. Even so, he's starting to realize that he might be missing something about all of this. Frisk is a good kid. Even if they'd seen a lot of death, he can't believe that they'd ever describe something like this as "not that bad" unless there's something Kotetsu is seriously missing.

He supposes that he's technically died once already, too. But here he is.

Even so, he's distracted from asking by the sound of his shovel striking a rock. He's halfway through digging it out when he realizes that this is probably deep enough. So Kotetsu tosses the shovel back onto solid ground, and then clambers back up to sit beside Frisk. He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, leaving a smear of mud behind, and takes a deep breath.

"There. That should be okay, right?"

[dustless]

It's not six feet deep, but it's not like it has to be. They body'll fit.

"Yeah, it's gonna work."

Frisk pauses, looking at Kotetsu carefully. He's better than he was acting at first...he still doesn't need to do the next bit. He said his piece about them not needing to protect him, but they don't want it anyway.

"You don't need to help with this. I can do it. It's okay."

'It' becoming apparent immediately as Frisk moves to the bloody shroud, securing their hands over places that were already stained with their fingerprints. They'd dragged him this far, after all; they can move the body a couple more meters into the grave.