Archive of Our Own

“Hey, Fuku, is that…?”

“Oh my god! Ohmigod it IS!”

“HEY UNDYYYNE!”

When the two girls’ voices meld together like that, highpitched and ecstatic, Undyne whips her head around, sees the tall, tentacled Octavia and the shorter, wispy green Fuku coming her way, waving wildly, school uniforms whipping in the autumn breeze, raises her eyebrow. For a brief moment she wonders if she knows them, flicks her eyes over them both, sees the worn cap perched high on Octavia’s head as well as the battered skateboard clutched beneath her arm, sees Fuku’s pristine school outfit, sees them both reaching into their backpacks, withdrawing heavily doodled-upon notebooks – it all clicks then. ‘Ah’, Undyne thinks to herself with a lazy, brilliant smile, more for the girls’ benefit than her own, ‘these are fans.’

“Hey girls!” she shouts, waving at them, and both Fuku and Octavia’s hearts do a simultaneous flip in their chests at the prospect of being addressed by their tall blue idol. Undyne leans up against the wall, crosses her arms, tosses her head. The girls glance at each other; Fuku is blazing with excitement and the tips of Octavia’s tentacles have turned mauve and her suckers keep clasping and unclasping. Once they’re there, though, barely armslength away from Undyne, a deadly case of shyness slips over them. Fuku kicks her feet, looks down, inspects her shoes, and Octavia runs a hand through her tentacles, flips her hat back around the right way, then takes it off entirely, holds it tight against her stomach.

“We were, um, wondering –“ Fuku begins at the same time Octavia starts to speak.

“I heard you were hot,” Octavia says, then blushes a deep purple. “Not like that um you know what I mean, like you run really hot right can I like hold y-your hand or something?”

There is a brief moment of tangled silence as Fuku and Octavia glance at each other, noting the blushes starting to spread across their already-blazing faces when Undyne bursts out laughing, transforming her smile into a joyous scattershot of teeth.

“Here, shake,” Undyne says, proffering her hand to Octavia, while reaching out with the other to Fuku. “You wanted an autograph?” she asks. Fuku nods breathlessly, offering Undyne the notebook with a nerveless hand. Undyne flips it open, notices a doodled version of herself chucking spears at the sloppy notes taken in the main body of the page. Fuku blushes even deeper, her flame darkening to a gaslight blue, starts to say something, but Undyne grins at her wickedly, fearless glint in her eye, and Fuku quite forgets what she was going to say. “I like it,” Undyne says, tugs the cap of the pen off with her teeth, signs her name beneath the image, draws a little arrow pointing to it.

Octavia is staring at Undyne’s hand, flock of butterflies swarming in her stomach. She reaches up, brushes it lightly with the palm of her hand. “It is warm,” she thinks, then Undyne, having finished signing Fuku’s notebook, glances over, grins wider. She seizes Octavia’s hand and Octavia lets out a burbling squeak of panic, tries to disguise it as a shock, runs her other hand through her tentacles again. Undyne shakes her hand, staring dead at her, and Octavia gazes deep into those flecked gold eyes, falls a little bit in love.

Then it is over and Fuku gets her notebook back and Octavia gets her hand back and they stand there openmouthed as Undyne flicks her sleeve back, looks at her watch. She glances up. “Look, girls,” she says, brisk and growly once more, gaze flicking between them with a small smile of satisfaction. “I’d love to stay and chat,” she continues, “but I’ve got a place to be.”

“I-it was really cool meeting you!” Fuku says, grinning broadly, voice like the crackle of a forest fire, and Undyne smiles at her so wide and beaming that Fuku feels her embery heart gulp back up into her throat again.

“R-really cool,” Octavia echoes, biting her lip, looking at Undyne through half-raised lids. ‘Play it cool,’ she tells herself but her heart is going a million beats a minute. Undyne’s eyes flick over to her and she freezes.

“I love your tentacles,” Undyne tells her, and upon  being addressed they curl into themselves with pleasure, turn a high royal blue.

“Thanks,” Octavia breathes, grinning hard. “I like your – everything,” she finishes lamely.

And then she’s gone. Undyne waves, tells them to stay cool, punks, rounds the corner, leaves nothing but a soft sweet smell of sugar and pepper. Fuku breaks the silence:

“I don’t say this often, but holy shit.”

“Got that right,” Octavia mumbles, looking down at her hand.

“Look what she wrote –“

“She touched me dude! We held hands!”

“I wish I could have…” Fuku says glumly, looking down at her flaming palm. Focusing her will she tries to extinguish that part of her but it merely dulls to a warm yellow-white flame.

“Hey,” Octavia says, following Fuku’s gaze, nudging her with her shoulder. “Either way that was really cool, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Fuku beams.

“Think we’ll see her again?” Octavia asks, biting her lip. Fuku shrugs.

“I think we might,” she says. “Now come on, we have to get to school.”

“Ugh,” Octavia groans, trudging off in Fuku’s burning footprints, but she doesn’t offer her customary suggestion that they should just skip. She’s too busy replaying how Undyne’s hand felt. She’s still smiling in homeroom.