Chapter Text
Katrina was walking around the produce section of the store, occasionally picking up some variant of a vegetable to inspect it before putting it back down.
Her red eyes seemed intimidating to most, all but a few elderly women who reveled at how she was a beautiful young woman.
One of them even came up to her to ask if she was single. Much to the old lady’s dismay, she was not. Katrina was happily married, in fact.
“What a luckily man he must be, dating such a beautiful lady.”
She was lucky she managed off a pokerface all her life, courtesy of her parents, because she was certain she would’ve scared off the woman by now.
“Is he shopping with you?”
It wouldn’t be worth the trouble, she thought, before speaking up to the lady with a soft voice. It’s been a while since she’s heard her own voice.
“No, I’m afraid it’s just me.”
The woman nods before leaving her alone to go back to grocery shopping. Katrina watches her go as she went back to look at the produce.
She doesn’t remember what she was looking for now, instead coming to feel her facial features.
“You have such a pretty face, Kiara.”
Suddenly, the memory is flooding back to her. No, no not right now, not in a public place like this…
Out of instinct, Katrina’s face retracted, leaving nothing but a blank slate of a face. She continued the rest of her shopping, but with an uneasiness in her stomach.
A few children pointed her out, asking their parent where her face was or if she was some kind of monster. To which they would hush them and tell them not to point.
It was true though. Ever since the underground’s barrier opening up, Katrina’s been trying to find her place in society again.
Even adjusting to the underground was difficult. Countless runs of genocide, insatiable bloodlust… She’s a bit grateful Papyrus remembered them.
It made her feel accountable, that no matter how much she really tried, she would still be the same. Just how long until she broke? Until she snapped? Until she got bored of the peaceful, domestic life?
Katrina paid for her things and left, carrying her few bags to set in the passenger seat whilst she climbed into the driver’s.
Her face came back, staring into the car’s rear-view mirror. Her hand shakily came up to feel her facial features again.
“You look just like Mother, you know.”
Why? Why was she praised for such a thing when her sister was punished? Katrina’s fingers glided over her right eye.
The screaming, the blood splattering, it made Katrina sick as she was recalling it. Her sister bent over, crying as she just watched, afraid to anger their mother more.
Katrina remembered passing out after seeing her sister’s face. Blood spilt out of her eye, all because she dirtied her face. Scarred it with just a scratch.
“You hate your mother, don’t you, Kie? Dirtying her face, calling her ugly…”
That wasn’t true. It was Katrina. Katrina accidentally scratched her while trying to brush a strand of her sister’s hair out of the way.
Why didn’t she say anything though? It was always like that, her siblings refusing to get their dear little sister in trouble but all she’s done is cause trouble for them.
The next thing she knew, her mother’s hair was wrapped around Kie’s throat, lifting her up in the air and minding the sharp ends from cutting her throat.
“Since you hate your mother so much, she’ll dirty your face for you.”
Her neck was too restricted to extend it, their mother’s barbed hair pointing at her eye. Blood first staining the sclera before gushing out of the face.
Kie was dropped like some useless doll, the sudden detail of how her eye looked after becoming too much for Katrina to bear.
She hurried to get out of the car, the feeling in her stomach now coming up.
——
Katrina finally made it home, carrying the plastic bags inside and setting them on the countertops.
She heard the basement door open, looking over her shoulder to see her eldest, Patricia. She must’ve gotten up from a nap with the way she yawned and stretched.
Her curly brown hair was unbrushed and the braid was messy. Those red, tired eyes, Katrina wasn’t sure if Patricia got it from her or her grandfather, much like the rest of her genetics.
With horns that came out of her forehead and sharp fangs that came out from the corner of her mouth, it was hard for Katrina to not be reminded of her father.
But there were also notable things that didn’t come from him. Her chestnut skin came from Katrina and so did that calm personality of her’s.
Now that she was thinking of it, she wasn’t sure if her wife’s genes really tried at all. It gave her a little smile though, not that it could be seen.
“Oh, you didn’t wear a mask today, mom?”
Katrina shook her head, motioning to come help put the groceries away.
“Making torijiru for dinner tonight? Sounds good.”
Patricia came over to look at all the ingredients bought, save for a few snacks, beginning to put them in their respective spots.
Katrina felt a little bit more at ease. She didn’t want to be home alone anyway, alone with her thoughts. Such loud thoughts.
“Aunt Kie stopped by earlier.”
Her movements halted, staring down at the daikon radish in her hands.
“She wanted me to give you this.”
Patricia reached into her pocket, pulling out two tiny kokeshi dolls, and handing yhem to her mom once she put the daikon away.
Katrina stared at it. The dolls looking exactly like her and Kie when they were younger, two old childhood toys.