Sans is holding a wisteria—the purple flower of longevity, love, romance, and… endurance—endurance, for lazybones like them? He chuckles at his own decision. Mundane enough, right? Even in the frilly and layered clothes of a sags’s dress, he somehow still pulls off the look even with a mob cap on. Perhaps that’s part of the charm that no one would expect in the first place.

Sans: “here you go, milady. it’s a nice shade of you, right?” definitely not because yukari literally means purple.

Yukari hides her smile with her fan, other hand holding her parasol over her shoulder—her golden eyes narrowing with cryptic delight. It’s unclear whether she’ll… continue to be so affectionately patronizing, or flirt by keeping his gaze solely on her eyes. Even in such casual attire—jacket and slippers, she manages to keep a sense of maternal mystery.

Yukari: “Oh my… such polite manners, hm? If you continue to treat me in such a way, I may never let you go, dear attentive boy.” A giggle, matching her crooning tone. “A step into the unknown, with such a well-behaved little one. How precious…”