Nice day today - by planeanon (author of 201X + 8)

6 years after the Liberation

5:18 AM

20 miles SE of Mt. Ebott

The sky shone with the hazy shades of dawn, the faint noise of dog barks and garbage trucks roaming through the early morning streets. The sun had not yet peeked out of its burrow beneath the horizon, and the street lights were progressively turning off in the face of increasing daylight. The city was mostly still asleep, and would be asleep for a while longer, given it was very early morning on a Saturday. Frisk slowly opened the door to his mother's room, revealing the monster lying face-up, snoring delicately, almost in tune with the birds chirping outside. The teenager carefully strode over to her, taking care not to step outside of the carpet that covered a large part of the room, in fear that the floor might creak and startle his slumbering mother.

Digging into his jeans' pocket, he took out a small note, hand-written on a napkin, that read: "Gone fishing with Asgore. Love you." leaving it on the bedside drawer, under a metal snail paperweight, that was previously covering a small grocery list. Frisk was about to exit Toriel's room, when he stopped in hesitation, standing in the doorway looking back at the gentle giant that was asleep on the bed, covered with Christmas decoration wool sheets. He never left the house without verbally talking to his mother first, old habit from his early days with her. Even if she was asleep, perhaps he felt he should at least drop a few words, just silently enough to not awake her. Shuffling to the side of the bed, he got himself partway onto the bed and whispered into Toriel's big ears.

"Mom... I'm going out, I should be back before dusk..."

This was met with no response, she had not moved a single muscle and continued to snore, her left arm tucked in beneath the sheets while her right arm rested over her stomach.  It was clear that she was deep asleep.

"... Love you." he whispered again, before landing an oh-so-soft smooch on her cheek.

This time, there was a slight protest from the slumbering mother, in the form of a groan caused by her sleep apnea followed by very quiet unintelligible mumbling. Still asleep, she rolled onto her side, facing away from Frisk before becoming absolutely still again.

The boy proceeded to smirk and exit the room, closing the door behind him.
Frisk picked up his backpack which lay open on the living room couch, revealing a few CD's and some spare clothes, before opening the door leading outside, which revealed a burgundy station wagon parked neatly on the side of road, with wood paneling all along the side of its body and a towering figure standing in front of it.

This towering figure was, of course, none other than Asgore. The 7 feet tall monster stood proudly in his extremely large khakis and tucked in flannel shirt, sporting a cheek-to-cheek smile, just about as big as his own physical size. His characteristic flowing gold hair/beard combo coupled with his long horns and ears made him recognizable from miles away. Despite Frisk being just about 50 feet away from him, he waved vigorously at the teenager.

"Howdy Frisk!" He saluted, bending down to hug the human. It hadn't been a great deal of time since the last time both of them saw one another, but each encounter always started with a warm welcome from both sides, mostly because of the mutual respect they had for each other.

"I thought you said you were going to be wearing your armor, man!" Frisk said, jokingly

"Golly! I forgot, maybe another time?" he replied, heartily chuckling

Both made their way into the old bathtub that was Asgore's car. Although from the outside it would seem extremely spacious and comfortable, the interior was really nothing to write home about. Frisk fit perfectly in the passenger seat, due to his small build, but for the monster getting in and out of the car was somewhat of a struggle, not to mention the fact that the roof was particularly low, so his horns scraped the roof's lining off, almost to bare metal. He didn't seem to mind however, in fact, he really appreciated the car for its simplicity and ruggedness, something he insisted that no other car in the world had.

The suspension creaked as he hopped into the velvet driver's seat, shifting around to achieve the most comfortable position possible. In the trunk of the station wagon were 2 metal fishing boxes, 3 fishing rods, some gardening equipment and a large rucksack, among a few assorted things like oil cans and packets of what seemed to be flower seeds.

"Did you bring any music for us to listen to?" queried Asgore, switching the ignition, bringing the dormant V8 engine to life, producing a steady low-key hum.

"Oh yeah, I brought us some Dire Straits... some Fleetwood Mac... Um, I was going to get 'the Carpenters', but Toriel lost the one CD she had." Frisk said, browsing through the discs he had in his backpack.

"Do you bring the... the umm.. 'Beach Guys' ?"

"You mean 'The Beach Boys'?"

"Yes! A colleague at the gardening group showed me them last week. Which, by the way..."

Asgore then proceeded to go on a long talk about gardening and music while they left the city suburbs and made their way into a backcountry road that weaved through the hills and valleys of the countryside, all the while "Sultans of Swing" played on the CD player in the center of the dash. Their destination was a decently sized lake about 70 miles south of the city, very far from civilization and from Mount Ebott. By now it had already been daybreak and the early morning sun gleamed intensely, shining brightly on the dew that remained on the bushes and trees that surrounded the small two-way asphalt road.

For the first quarter of the road trip, the vegetation consisted mostly of tightly grouped evergreens, making the forest around the car seem like an endless maze, but after a while, the road came to a nice hilltop which revealed the surrounding valleys, rivers and lakes, the homogeneous vegetation giving the impression that the whole countryside was an endless sea.
Asgore let out a sigh of wonderment at the view unfolding right before his eyes, just behind the windshield, reaching out one of his hands as if trying to touch the landscape. As if by instinct, he whispers to himself:

"Nice day today."

Frisk looked at the monster, slightly confused, thinking that he was talking to him. Observing his eyes he noticed however that he was talking to himself, or someone who wasn't there, perhaps someone he couldn't see. Just as this happened, the song "Cotton fields back home" started to play, and Asgore's aimless gaze shifted into a satisfied smile, humming to the tune.


9:27 AM


Lake Stillwater

98 miles South of Mt. Ebott


Throughout the valley reigned an almost immaculate silence, disturbed at times by the sounds of faraway birds chirping, sloshing water and creaking wood. Asgore and Frisk both sat completely still, facing opposite ends of their canoe, resting on one another's backs, fishing rods resting on their hands while their vessel rocked meekly from side to side, almost as if it were a cradle. Scattered clouds covered up the beaming sun, pronouncing a soft shadow on most of the lake.

Every once in a while, a small seaplane would buzz by, some two hundred feet above the water, casting a nimble shadow and scaring away the families of ducks that rested on the waterline.

The King fiddled around with the reel on his rod, pulling and pushing its lever, tugging on the line. None of them had caught a single fish ever since getting to the lake, having spent most of their time chatting. Frisk was, by now, half-asleep, tired from having woken up so early for their fishing trip. He could however feel Asgore's sweaty shirt sticking to his own, as well as the uneasy way the canoe was tipped and off-balance, due to monster's hefty three-hundred pounds of weight.

"How's Tori doing?" Asgore queried, breaking a half-hour long silence, waking Frisk, who replied groggily:

"Oh you know, the usual. School, cooking. She likes keeping herself busy."

"Did she get the flowers I sent her last week?"

Frisk cringed, he was terribly afraid Asgore would make such a  question.  Toriel did receive the flowers, but she never kept them. The past 2 or 3 times Asgore sent her flowers, she had given the them to her more accomplished students, or just handed them out to neighbors. He couldn't bear to tell the monster the truth. Frisk knew how badly the big guy missed Tori. His longing for her seeped into every single action he did, and as much as he tried to get close to her, she still seemed hell-bent on not falling into his charms.

"....Yeah, she did. She liked them." Frisk replied, cleaning up his throat.
Asgore did not reply at once, leaving the human's voice to echo throughout the serene lake. The king then let out a short, low-key chuckle, sighing and resting his fishing rod on the canoe. He looked up into the clouds

"Frisk... You don't need to lie to me. I know very well she's still mad at me."

"Look, Asgore. Toriel... She-"

"It's odd, you see. You, a human, have been more endearing to me these past years than my own... wife..."

Frisk remained silent, he knew that talking right now wouldn't do any good, all he could do was listen to his dear friend's heartache. As much as Asgore seemed like a gentle and overall beaming person, he still bore the memories and scars of all the years he spent trapped inside of that vile mountain, and while that may not seem so transparent to his human friends or colleagues, to Frisk it was very clear. The Monster King was much more to him than simply a friend, a menacingly large creature with a tragically soft heart and a romantically tender demeanor.

"... I'm just glad you can make her happy, Frisk. You most definitely have a strong spirit, and I admire that. If it wasn't for you, none of this would be possible... At least I have you, my dear friend... My.... Our Savior." he said, before partially turning around and wrapping his left arm around the comparatively tiny human's chest, in an endearing, yet bear-like manner.
The boy was caught a bit off-guard by this display of affection, looking up to his fishing buddy to see him sporting a cheek-to-cheek smile with his eyes shut, his beard and mane wafting in the cool valley draft. He couldn't help but return the bear hug with one of his own, albeit a weaker one.

To Frisk, Toriel was pretty much his mother, unhesitatingly calling her so, even in front of other humans, but... He'd never called Asgore his father or "dad". Not even when he was much younger. He didn't know exactly why, he definitely loved Asgore in an endearing way, but it had never occurred to him to call the man his father. But suddenly, being in that boat alone with him, and after that spontaneous demonstration of gratitude and, undoubtedly, love, he couldn't help but long to utter the words, but they seemed to be stuck in his throat, much to his dismay.

The touching scene was interrupted abruptly by a loud whizzing noise coming from what seemed to be inside of the canoe. Asgore and Frisk both turned to face the noise, only to realize it was coming from the King's fishing rod, whose fishing reel spun frantically. A fish! At long last!

"Golly!!" Asgore uttered, grabbing the rod and rapidly standing upright, causing the canoe to shake violently and tip even more.
The fishing line seemed to zip from side to side, up and down, Frisk very mindfully tracking its movements while Asgore struggled to reel his prey in. It didn't seem like it was going to be an easy catch. He tugged and swayed the rod from side to side, up and down, unintentionally drawing nearer to the canoe's edge with each movement.

Suddenly, the reel on Asgore's rod jammed, urging him to violently yank back his rod in an attempt to unjam it, which promptly cause the canoe to completely tip, sending Frisk, the monster and their fishing gear splashing down into the cold lake water.
No longer than a few seconds after their vessel's demise, Frisk emerged out of the long blue blanket of water, unable to contain a near-hysterical laughter, only to find Asgore with his wet hair covering his eyes, frantically flailing his arms and calling for the human boy's name.

"Frisk! Friiisk!!! Where are you?! I can't see a thing!"

"Asgore, relax! I'm right here you dummy!" he said, swimming up to his big friend.

"Oh Golly! I was worried! I didn't know if you were able to swim yet."

Frisk looked around for their stuff, but could only see the flipped canoe, which now was drifting away by the wind that had started to blow stronger in the valley. It seemed like the metal container with the baits, hooks and fishing lines had sunk like a brick, and the rods were nowhere to be found.

"Oh dear... I messed up again didn't I?" Asgore lamented

"Oh come on, stop rambling and let's get to solid ground."

Some 3 minutes of swimming later the pair found themselves next to their car, sitting on the bed of smooth stones that surrounded the entire waterline of the lake, covered by a few grouped trees, both of them completely soaking wet. Asgore proceeded to take of his drenched flannel shirt, exhaling with a groan and flopping down onto his back, in a mixture of tiredness and embarrassment. Frisk couldn't help but giggle and snicker just from thinking about their little incident, also laying down onto his back, to the right of King fluffybuns.

It was now close to 10 AM and the sun beamed down at its most intense, peeking through the leaves that swayed almost in synchronicity, Frisk somewhat oblivious to Asgore's torment, too busy basking in the joy of the moment and the serenity of that spot in time. Despite being in his mid-to-early teens, he felt like a kid again, like the little curious kid that got him lost in that dark mountain.

"I'm sorry Frisk, I ruined our good moment together..." Asgore mumbled, under his voice, his hands resting on his soaked stomach fur, a sad, droopy expression on his big eyes.

Suddenly, the words that had previously been stuck in Frisk's throat seemed to have been liberated, they were just at the tip of his tongue, eager to jump out and proclaim their existence, and so the human boy granted their "wish".

"You're the best, dad." he said gleefully, rolling on his side and firmly grasping Asgore with all his might in an emotional hug.

The monster was absolutely paralyzed. It had been decades since someone had so affectively held him. The sheer force and intent behind Frisk's grasp was staggering, the love seeping through his arms, straight from his soul and into Asgore's. It felt unreal, he was completely caught off guard and couldn't help but tear up and smile, returning the motion by holding Frisk close to him.
It was only six years ago this same boy he cradled stood before him in his throne room, incredibly young, yet, incredibly defiant, a boy Asgore was certain would meet the fate six other had met: death at his own hands. It was beyond his wildest dreams that they would become so close, that he would become to him like a... father. Asgore tightened his grip on Frisk, effectively beginning to cry, not tears of despair like so many times before, but tears of joy.

"Thank you... Thank you..." the monster whispered.

"Things will get better for you Asgore, I promise." Frisk replied.


12:20 PM


The burgundy station wagon pulled up to the small suburban house, brakes wheezing as the metal bathtub crawled to a halt on the hot tarmac. Inside of the vehicle were, of course, Frisk and Asgore, both wearing spare white T-shirts that the human had brought along in his pack. Although it was a perfect fit on Frisk, on Asgore it was comically small, barely being able to fit at all, but it was definitely better than nothing.

"You can keep the shirt for as long as you want, suits you really well you know that?" Frisk said jokingly.

"It's a good replacement for that battle armor isn't?" the monster fired back.
Both of them chuckled, the boy hopping out of the passenger seat and closing the door, before bending down and peeking through the same door's window and stating:

"I had a really good time, thanks Dad."

"I did too... Son."

As a final goodbye, the human gave the King a hefty pat in the shoulder, before nodding in a "take care" kind of way, a gesture the monster mimicked. As much as they'd both like to spend more time with each other they had their own schedules to attend to. Asgore had his gardening club meeting and Frisk, well, he'd skipped his morning high school classes to go fishing, so he needed to eat lunch and dash back to class before he got in trouble for missing his music class for the third time in a row.

Asgore drove off at a deliberately slow pace, the old engine letting out a puff of smoke from the exhaust. He looked in the rearview mirror for one last time and saw Frisk meekly waving goodbye, feeling prompted to wave at the tiny reflection of his tiny big-hearted companion. Leaning back on the beat-up velvet seat, his enormous horns yet again scraping the roof, the King turned on his CD player and started listening to a slow love ballad, singing along carelessly.