Chara's eyes narrow in displeasure, flicking in Sans' direction as he puts in his own two, nonsensical cents. Just not as nonsensical as they could be- more a direct parallel of Chara's own sentiments. Leaving a man with a knife, and a skeleton who had somewhat terrifying magic for the uninitiated. Wonderful. A perfect scenario in which to return to dust and nothing else.

"Listen to me, you uncultured trash," Chara begins, voice low- quiet enough, perhaps, that Sans will not pick up all the words being said. He might be taller than them, and they may have to look up to see him- but there is no mistaking the fact that they are looking down at him. "If you've misunderstood this to be a negotiation, then let me make this simple for you."

The knife shifts in their hand, held with the confidence of practice. Undoubtedly, they look seconds away from lashing out.

They are.

"You will stay here. You will watch him. And if anything happens to him, even the Storyteller won't be capable of putting you back together."

They give Ichimatsu a few moments, lets their words sink in- and then the knife is going back into their sweater. Their voice returns to a normal volume.

"I will return shortly. Please remain seated, Sans."