SS Valentine
Late, but a Valentine's short story.
Nothing related to the main plot.
"Happy Valentine's. Friend chocolate. Made with all my effort, please eat. From D."
Upon waking, a small box, neatly wrapped, lay by my pillow.
Placing something by my pillow without me noticing, even after securing my personal safety within the makeshift home?
As someone who takes pride in my home's security, this was an affront to my pride. Yet, upon seeing the sender's name on the card accompanying the box, I understood.
If it's that kind of person, then there's nothing to be done.
Still, chocolate?
That heretical god actually does something nice once in a while?
I love sweets, you know?
And since we don't have chocolate here, it's genuinely delightful.
Let's eat it right away.
Pop!
"MAAARRRGGHHHH!!"
Snap!
...What was that just now?
Was it a trick of my eyes? When I opened the box, it looked like some mysterious brown, oozing creature let out a strange cry.
Chocolate?
Was chocolate really something that triggered a SAN check just from looking at it?
Let me check the box again.
Yes.
Perhaps my vision just briefly malfunctioned.
Pop!
"MAAARRRGGHHHH!!"
Snap!
What now?
Eat it?
"Why bring it to me?"
"MAAARRRGGHHHH!!"
"Consume it."
"...Refuse."
"MAAARRRGGHHHH!!"
Here we go—blackness approaches.
The proper response to something created by the gods is to throw it back at the gods.
Thus, I attempt to force it onto the blackness, but it refuses to accept.
See? It's clearly insisting—so eager to be taken.
よくよく見るとなかなかに可愛げがあるんでない？
だからほれ、受け取るんだ！
バレンタインで女の子からチョコがもらえるんだぞ！
世の男子どもが君のことを羨望の眼差しで見つめること間違いなしの待遇だ！
これを受け取らないなんてそんなバレンタインを侮辱するようなものじゃないか！
押し付けようとする私と、かたくなに受け取ろうとしない黒の攻防。
それが二十分ばかし続いた末、諦めたかのように黒がクリーチャーに手を伸ばす。
お？
ついに観念して受け取る気になったか！
そうかそうか。
末永く可愛がってくれたまえ。
ガシッとその右手がクリーチャーを掴み、ガシッと左手が私の顎を掴む。
ん？
そしてその手が無理矢理私の口を開かせ、強引にクリーチャーをその中に放り込んできた。
「マ゛ア゛ア゛ア゛ァァァ……」
A creature’s scream fading into the depths of my mouth.
Didn’t I just swallow it whole?
What kind of thing is this!?
Tastes like chocolate, damn it!
“D is in trouble again.”
“Maa…aa…aa…aa…! Aaa…?”
“What is this?”
“Can’t you see?”
“I’m asking because I can’t.”
The Maid in a traditional Japanese-style dress questions D, who is jabbing a spoon into the mysterious object emitting strange noises, peeling its form, and bringing it to his lips.
“Chocolate.”
“Chocolate doesn’t make strange noises.”
“That’s a fixed assumption. Want to try? It’s delicious.”
“I don’t want to eat something so bizarre, even if it is delicious.”
“It really is.”
“More importantly—why are you abandoning your duties to make this? You’d better have a satisfactory explanation.”
"Because it is Valentine's Day, I felt I had to do it. No regret. No remorse."
No one knows what became of D afterward.