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It's nice here.
The stone floor, the little wall you've propped yourself up against, they feel strangely soft, like the petals slowly falling into your lap.
A petal lands atop your head. You don't have the strength to brush it off. You barely have the strength to keep your eyes open.
Faint sunlight shines through the distant barrier. Everything gray is painted in gold.
Your chest aches sharply, but it fades. All of your pain begins to leave your body.
If you had the strength to smile, you would.
You hope your friends don't feel bad for leaving you behind. This is what's right, and they have a soul to deliver.
It's getting harder and harder to stay awake.
You've had a long enough journey. The sun outside is setting. Flowey was right, now it's time to rest.
Your family would be so proud...
You close your eyes,
and stop breathing.
***
"Hey, Cloves?"
It's your dad. He looks concerned. No doubt he'd noticed how you were acting at dinner last night.
You nod at him. Almost subconsciously, you smooth out the missing poster you've been holding on to for the past week. Can't have it getting too creased.
Dad sits down next to you on the torn-up couch that acts as your bed. You still feel bad some nights that your parents have to sleep on the floor.
"What's goin' on, four-shooter? Everything alright?" His tone is soft. Your heart aches a bit. You know what you have to tell him, what you have to do, but that doesn't make it much easier.
You tell him that you have to go.
"Hm?" He asks in a puzzled voice, "Where to? Got a friend's house you wanna visit?"
He spots the poster in your hands, and goes silent.
Every second that he doesn't say anything weighs on your soul a little more.
"…I see."
He sounds… Resigned.
"It's… It's a noble goal, that," He says, "That's what scares me most."
You tilt your head, and he continues. "If it weren't serious, I could tell you to stay, like all the times you fixate on little adventures you think up. Like that time you wanted to ride into the sunset just to say you did it. But this…"
He shakes his head sadly. "As much as I hate saying it, it's the right thing to do. And your mom 'n I can never stop you when you know something's right. Not for a second."
You nod.
Dad lets out a chuckle. "Heh. Lord knows we've tried."
He scoots closer to you, and wraps you in a hug. "You're too good for your own good, you know that?"
You let out a small noise. A laugh or a sob, neither of you are sure.
The two of you split apart after a little while. Your gaze drifts down to your poster yet again. One of your hands absentmindedly taps the handle of the toy gun you have in your plastic holster.
"Told anyone?" Dad asks. You nod. You have. Your friends at school have known for a week, and you left a note in mom and dad's bedroom. You'd planned to leave right before sunrise. Gosh, that's only in an hour or so now…
You eye the hat you've been wearing across your whole life, your dad's hat, hung up on a hat rack. Your dad looks there too.
"…Take it."
You're surprised, but dad only grins.
"It looks better on a real hero than it ever did on me."
You smile at that.
Tears form in your eyes, and you bury your face in dad's shirt.
"I'll really miss you, Clover. Your mom will too. I mean that."
You'll miss them too. So, so much. But you have a mission.
The mountain awaits you.
Quietly, you whisper a goodbye and hug him even tighter, as tight as you possibly can, as you begin to weep.
"...Love you lots, Clover."
"Love you more, dad."