The castle has been kind, and that almost dooms him. Children with striped shirts have become a curiosity at least and his friends at best. His brother is here, in a way. There's even another him that Sans can maybe help avoid make all the mistakes he made. Days go by in order. He's gotten used to the sight of the sky.

There are good days where that golden hallway seems very far away. Where he can forget the child he killed so many times that he lost count.

Right now, all Sans is thinking about is varying his nap spots. Variety is important in life, after all. He's been here long enough to know that, at this precise time of day, the way the sun falls in through the high windows makes the sills quite pleasantly warm. If he tucks himself into a corner just so, he can look out on the gardens as he drifts off.

A small skeleton in a reasonably large hallway, he might not be immediately seen at first.

But he feels the child's approach, enough that his eyesockets suddenly fly open wide and dark even before Sans realizes why.