Chapter Text
The monsters had returned to the surface. Reintegration was difficult for everyone. The battle between monsters and humans was long forgotten history, barely even a whispered myth. The existence of beings other than humans was not entirely welcome to some.
To others, it was the best thing that had ever happened.
“Holy crap, monsters are moving in next door.” Your younger neighbor had just run in from outside and was panting hard.
You frowned down at them. “And? Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, of course not! There’s nothing wrong! Everything is amazing! MONSTERS are moving in NEXT DOOR!”
You relaxed minutely. You should have known better than to suspect them of anti-monster bigotry, but it was habitual by now to respond defensively. You lived in a very conservative area, and the new additions didn’t sit well with many of the residents’ delicate sensibilities. “Well, we’ll have to welcome them when they get here, then. Control yourself, though. They aren’t spectacles, they’re just people like any of us.”
“Except people who are monsters.”
“Hush. You had better be on your best behavior, is my point.”
They blinked innocently at you, as if to say, I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. You just directed another Look at them, until they finally relented. “Ugh, fine. We’re totally going to be best friends though, and everybody will be jealous that I have monster best friends.” They scampered out the same way they had come—the front door—and you shook your head.
But still. Monsters next door. You looked curiously at the house that had laid so long vacant, before reprimanding yourself as well. “Just people. Just people, like you and me.”
“SKELETON PEOPLE!”
“Please enter normally for once in your life,” you sighed, making a mental note to lock your door more often, despite knowing that it would never happen. (You always forgot.)
“Fine. Hey, what’s happening? And, hey, is there anything happening that is more exciting than SKELETON PEOPLE.”
You wrinkled your nose and looked away in an effort to disguise the fact that no, this was probably by far the most interesting thing in your rather uneventful life at the moment. The kid took advantage of your distraction by dashing around you and towards your stairs. “I totally call your bedroom window. You have the best view of the house.”
More out of principle than actual anger, you roared, “Stay out of my bedroom, you menace!”
“Ew, it’s a mess in here.”
“You’re going to… be a mess…if you don’t step out of there right now.”
“Terrifying,” you heard the drawl from inside your room. “Come and get me, we both know you’re a diehard pacifist.”
You finally reached your room and saw them sprawled out across your bed with a pair of…were those binoculars? They turned around, saw you, and grinned. “If you’re nice, I’ll let you look too.”
“This is my room,” you mumbled petulantly. “…Shove over, though.” You made sure to avoid looking at your neighbor. You were sure they had a terribly smug look on, and you didn’t really care to have your weakness rubbed in.
Side by side, both on your stomachs with your legs in the air, you both peered out the window at what was admittedly a great view of the next-door house.
From this vantage point, you could see the moving truck. It didn’t have very many belongings in it, you noticed, then chided yourself for noticing. Next up appeared to be a treadmill, which was precariously perched on the very edge of the moving truck. You wrinkled your nose again, but this time in a vague disgust. Fitness buffs, gross. You were roused from your regular rumination on the audacity of others to be born athletic and with good spatial awareness by an impatient, “Come on, where are they?”
Almost as if summoned, you heard a loud voice from outside. “BROTHER! WE MUST MOVE YOUR RUNNING DEVICE! WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THIS THING! YOU DO NOT USE IT! YOU ARE FAR TOO LAZY!”
“aw, come on. you don’t have…tibia jerk about it.”
“OH MY GOSH, SHUT UP.”
“i’m just saying, that was a real...boneheaded thing to say.”
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT.”
“come on, don’t make bad jokes.”
“FINE. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, FORMALLY APOLOGIZE FOR THE BASELESS THREAT. I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU. BUT STOP.”
“all right. but what will i do with all of this…time to kill?”
Despite an earnest attempt to suppress it, a snort escapes you. Your neighbor looks at you derisively. “Those jokes were terrible.”
“I know, but I sort of love it.”
“Shhh, they’re coming out!”
And so they did. Skeleton people was right. One of them—the loud one—was tall and wore a red scarf. The other was short, stout, and in a hoodie, shorts, and house slippers. Also he was adorable.
(You chided yourself especially hard for noticing that. Unnecessary, you said. Your brain protested that he was, and anyway, it wasn’t like he had to know you thought so.)
They also looked vaguely familiar. You could swear it was on the tip of your tongue—but surely you would remember meeting two animate skeletons?
“I’m going to go say hello. Here, can you hold onto these for me?” Tossing their binoculars on the bed, the kid leaped up and began to sprint downstairs.
Shooting up with the binoculars in your hands, you waved them helplessly. “Hey, wait, what do—“
And just then, of course, the two skeleton brothers turned to look at your window, where you were wildly waving around a pair of binoculars very obviously oriented in their direction.
You stood frozen a moment before diving onto your floor, but not before making eye contact with the short one. He was grinning.
Your name is (y/n), and you are DETERMINED never to leave the house again.