They make it home, dropping the food bag they brought with them in the fridge and their hat and stuff away. It's kind of late.

"...you are kinda dirty, though," they say apologetically once they're getting ready for bed.

They put Chara on their desk, leaning against the side of the computer, pick-sword settled across their lap. It takes a few adjustments until they look like they're sitting comfortably. Frisk pats their head and yarn hair a little before heading out, down the hall to brush their teeth.