Important marker translations. Took me a while to figure out what to do to covert spoilers and strike through to a format that doesn't allow them.

[Hidden]

(Undone)

The others look to you, as if you weren't there a moment ago. They both eye the head, but only Cloe speaks up. "That's not very nice. She's not very nice, but still, you should make up."

Your eyes flick to her, then back to Reimu, feeling panic rising in your gut. "...I'm sorry, Miss Hakurei, for invalidating your work with the end of your life."

The littlest bird smiles. "Now kiss and make up!"

You look at her funny, distracted from that panic, but proceed to peck the head on the forehead.

Tilting her head quickly, Cloe asks, "Ehh? That's what a kiss is? Didn't you just peck her?" She looks thoughtful. "...Then I've been kissing people that annoy me?"

You sigh, resigned, but answer regardless. "It seems so." You notice that X is breaking up twig bits and dumping them in a bowl, but ignore it in favor of turning to chapter 1 of your book.

Now, technically the first step depends on how little you truly care about the recipient. If you wish to show your disdain for them, merely melt down chocolate and form it into the shape of a particularly nasty expletive. I would recommend product of incest, but sadly spaces do not translate well. After that is through, you merely must throw it at their head. The velocity further dictates your evel of hatred, not the size of the chocolate. My favorite method of delivery would be a magnetic acceleration delivery method. To do such a thing, you must mix in vast quantities of iron. The more metal involved means a more effective cannon. This will also influence the displayed level of your hate, for it gives your chosen wordweight. however more importantly, it allows you to create a highly specialized railgun fit for any word of your choosing. My favorite would be a simple exclamation point, as it's far easier to work with than a fuck gun. Mind you, the chocolate will melt in the firing process, so make sure that you can easily clean the barrel.

Her head-wing wagging, Cloe looks to you expectantly, causing you to sigh. You proceed to reread that bit aloud, making sure to ham it up. "Next on the list would be if you only have minor disdain for the one in question. For this, you will produce your own chocolate, but with none of the love involved in producing your own materials."

"Finally, and for one you truly care for, you must make your own ingredients. This means growing cocoa beans, harvesting phospholipids from fatty tissue, milk from something that produces milk, and grow sugar. I will not bore you with the details, for these things should be plainly obvious." You sigh. It seem this doesn't tell you how to do those things. ...Well, it's not like you have to make it with love, right?

A capillary pops in your eye. "Yes, what was I thinking? It must be done with as much love as can be contained in a skull." You grab a bone saw from... from...

You rub your head, shaking away the painful thoughts on where you got it from. And so you set the head on the counter, putting the saw to the temple.

And then you saw.

The sound is one you will never forget; it sounds disturbingly similar to sawing through wood, but with bone shards instead of saw dust.

You follow the instructions to the tee, sawing where you will lose the least brain matter. You need that.

You follow the instructions to the tee, holding her head so it won't slip.

Why is this so hard? This should be easy, shouldn't it?

You hate her, don't you?

And yet, to see her die, and it to be your hand that swung the cleaver... It's difficult. Your eyes burn. Your throat aches.

But you continue, knowing you will not be allowed to stop. You would rather commit measured atrocities than to be forced into further horrors yet unknown.

You smile as your tears drip. But you will do it with love. You must love all of your ingredients like your children.

You smile as you look to the head, and love it like a child. Your lip quivers as you look at it. Your child is dead. You killed your child.

X looks to you, shaking her head as she gets back to work.

Cloe tilts her head in the same rapid movement as always. "What's wrong, Cocoa?"

You look to her. Does she truly not understand what has transpired? What crimes you have committed? What horrors you did simply with one quick chop? The land you ended? The creatures you doomed? No, obviously not. "I am making chocolate with... love."

Her brow quirked, Cloe watches a tear fall to the ground. "That seems like sadness. Sadness is what makes those odd waters leak. Master said that it's a very human thing to do. She wants to be able to drip like humans can but can't."

You wipe your eyes on your bloodied sleeve, smearing Reimu's metallic scent on your face. Your brow twitches at the stench you merely made worse.

But at least your eyes aren't full of tears! "Then call me human, I suppose."

"Okay."

You sigh. You should have expected that, honestly; you should have expected her to take that literally.

You looks to your gruesome work. Following the instructions, you didn't even have to worry about getting cut hairs inside.

That would mean you are making it with love, right?

Yes, certainly.

Certainly.

You grab the hair over the incision, twisting it. It twists without resistance.

Good. Love properly administered.

You pull it off, setting it aside. The head is fresh, making the matter within akin to soggy, waterlogged noodles. Good. This will do quite nicely.

You start by placing a sieve over the hole, before emptying the fluid into a bowl. Next, you take scissors to snip the optic nerves, before knotting the excess so as to keep them in place. You tug at an eye, finding it to be secure. Perfect.

Next on the agenda is to get the brain out. You take your ice cream scoop and begin scraping it clean, knowing that you are making terrible waste of a mind. What secrets might she contain that are now lost forever?

You shake your head, turning on the ove—

Checking on the oven, you find it's done prehea—

You slide in the—

the egg timer goes off, and you open the oven to peek, hot air rushing into your face as you sit there binking. Shaking your head, you decide to not think too much on what just happened, and instead fully open the oven to grasp the tray with your hands, pulling it out. "Hot, hot, hot!" You quickly move it to the thankfully granite counter, which, while suspiciously normal, still makes perfect sense with what they wish for you to do, whomever they might be. Looking to your hands, you find them lightly blistered. Now you remember why you don't like cooking. Fire hurts like hell.

Cloe flutters over to you, peeking at your hands that you're currently popping the blisters of. "They make not-wing covers to prevent that."

You look at her oddly. Every time you feel these two can't say something weirder, they surprise you. "Not-wings?"

"Yes, the foot-like not-wings"

You just have no words to say to that. But then you realize something. Something that makes her at least make [i]some[/i] sense. "Cloe, how old are you?"

"Too many winters to count." Thinking a moment, she adds, "And most of them I didn't know how to count. Not the way humans do, anyways." You open your mouth to speak, but she continues. "Master theorizes that I'm at least 30 winters old, however."

You take a deep breath and let it out. She is starting to get on your nerves.

Although, you'll admit, this distraction is extremely helpful in ignoring the things you're doing here. You practically killed Atlas, causing the world to faaaaand now you're thinking about it again. "Cloe, distract me."

Cloe starts... you honestly aren't quite sure, but she's currently rapidly kissing your clothes. This is honestly adorable. She's like a little chick, trying to get foo— "Oww, oww, oww!" You grab the beak of an ibis pecking at you. You only assume it to be X, for where else would you find such a specific breed as your own? You hold her up by her beak. "Stop tha— Oww!" You look back to Cloe who is, surprisingly, an adult of the same breed. Also, why does she come up to your chest?

X looks smugly proud of Cloe for learning so quickly, while Cloe looks thankful. You, however, are thankful that she only pecked you once, as boy did that hurt. Giving X a dry look, you proceed to toss her back to where she was working, causing her the squawk as she wildly flails her wings. Cloe doesn't look particularly pleased with your treatment of whom you can only guess she sees as a friend.

Surprisingly, Cloe does more than chirp. "That wasn't very nice." How she spoke without lips is beyond you, and X seems to hold similar sentiments, while also looking oddly envious.

Honestly, you feel a bit jealous, too.

You cross your arms. "She was pecking me."

"You didn't have to throw her." How did she even make a "th" sound, now that you think about it? You might need to pick her brai— Distractions, distractions!

"Would you rather I throw you?"

"Yes."

You blink twice, surprised by that response, and thankfully distracted. "...Very well." Against your better judgement, you lower your face to her beak's level so as to hook your hands under her. You try to pick her up, thinking that she must be light for her size.

You proceed to throw your back out, doubling over in— You pick her up slowly, not putting your back under undue stress. She's heavier than you expected, so it's a good thing that you didn't do the thing you remember very clearly doing. You wince as another capillary in your eye bursts. You make note not to question the machinations of reality, or whatever is going on.

Cloe looks to be enjoying being carried well enough, which is odd, when considering the infernal peeping she made earlier, but sadly it's time you made good on your word. Many would call you a weak youkai, and that more or less sums you up; weak of arm and magic, you not only are a weak youkai, but exemplify weak youkai. You huff and puff as you swing her back, before tossing her a short distance. She lands heavily on the chocolate floors, stumbling a tad, but catching herself. And then she changes back into her human form.

And then you realize her clothes are folded neatly off to the side, and simply pinch the arch of your nose. Okay, enough distractions. Looking at another you is like looking in a mirror, so it is as such is hardly interesti— Do you have that mole there? Shaking your head, you look to the skull. More atrocities, coming right up.

Predicting Cloe's desire to hear you read this aloud, you decide that reading things twice when you don't have to isn't something you want to do. As such, you pick up a squawking Cloe — whom is only half dressed, as you really don't care at this point — sit down, sit her in your lap, and pat her head. Surprisingly, she calms down, stopping the infernal peeping that she had begun just moments ago. "Now, to begin, I must warn you that I must legally tell you not to do this. Why you ever would want to make delicious chocolate in the skull of your most hated enemy is beyond me, as such a thing would be completely insane. How one ranks levels of insanity is beyond me. Perhaps we need such a system on Pandora, as much insanity as there is."

"Now, as they have told me that I have sarcastically reached my quota for warning you, it is time that I begin. If you do not possess the skull of your most hated enemy, a very reasonable way to acquire one is to tell some poor brute to kill them for a very poorly made gun and a curiously small amount of money. If you yell a large number at them, that also helps. It has actually become a rather common way to get errands done, in fact."

Cloe's head-wing flaps from side to side as you turn the page, the very sound of doing so putting a smile on her face. As she smiles, you continue, "However, should you for some reason be unable to procure the help of a Vault Hunter, you must instead use that cheap weapon you intended to give them to do the job yourself. Although, as they have the uncanny talent to not die when killed for some odd reason, it may be best to simply wait for them."

"Once one has collected the skull, it is time that you make a decision. Do you remove the non-skull part, or do you attempt to preserve it so as to keep the look on their face immortalized for all time. Sadly, this decision was already made for me once I finally acquired the skull. However, the one that reduced it down to the bony structures is the one that gave me the idea to do this, so I will ignore the terrible thing she did with the phlegm of cheeses. Although, the crumbs of tortilla chips did force me to revoke this forgiveness."

"As for the chocolate itself, refer to the chapters on making the chocolate. However, as you may possibly have a fresh head, you must consider if your target for this gift is a cannibal. If the answer is yes, then I would suggest roasting that which makes them who they are and coating chunks of it in their favorite sweetened coating. Sadly, I neither had a fresh skull, nor did Clork have a mouth to enjoy the chocolate. He certainly considers himself a cannibal, however." You set Cloe off to the side, before getting up off the ground.

You look back to the tray of brain, deciding that you must now cover it in the... ...You're not going to question when you made this caramel. Or with what, for that matter.

You wince as your head throbs, your nose dribbling blood. You sigh, remembering all the work you did to to make this from its raw materials, whilst ignoring the blood getting in it, as that just might be considered a show of love, or at least you hope it's considered as such by whomever trapped you three here.

You begin doing your best to coat the squishy brain chunks in caramel, but, in the end, have plenty left over. You look to the others. "Would either of you need caramel for your chocolate?"

X looks to you over her shoulder. "I'm afraid that Arnold has a severe dislike towards caramel after an incident in his youth."

While you're left scratching your head on if she named the chair, Cloe clears her throat, grabbing your attention. "Do you believe it would properly counterbalance the flavor of the worms?" You just stare at her. "I have never had caramel before, and so I am unsure."

Sighing, you hand it over. "It would be best as a caramel center, or a coating for the worms, I would imagine." Though you remember eating worms now and then, you would not be one to eat them unless forced. Fish are superior, after all, not to mention far more satisfying to feel slide down your throat. Still, if one must use bird food, you certainly think either seeds or worms would be the better thing to add. However, nothing is gained if you never try new things. Not that you will try them, but still.

Next, you mix together the other ingredients that you've apparently been preparing for quite some time. Criollo cocoa powder that you... recently ground, powdered milk that you don't like the source of or implications there of, cocoa butter, Reimu lecithin and sugar.

You begin the conching process, knowing well that it must be done manually for maximum love dispersal, not to mention that you know well that you will be here for days.

As you conch, you find yourself twitching forward in points in time, soon being lost to what time or day it is. If not for being a youkai, and thus having ridiculous durability, you likely would have torn the muscles of your arm in two by now. Still hurts like you did, of course, as the healing can't really keep up with the damage being done. The moment you stop, you realize that your arm hurts far more than you realized as you empty the finished product into a bowl. Next, you place wax paper on a tray and begin dipping the brain clusters in the chocolate, before setting them aside to harden. While you were lost in mixing montages, it seems that Cloe has completed her... you think that it's chocolate and caramel dipped worms. As for X, it reminds you of chocolate filled with puffed rice.

But with splinters instead of the rice.

Cloe seems to be waiting for something, and you're honestly unsure of what, but you begin filling the cavity in the head with the chocolates, replacing the hairy cap. There. You're done. It's over.

You hear a great ripping that is as loud as it is silent. Distant yet near. unnoticed yet notice. Your skin immediately bleaches as you spy just what lies before you. Eyes. Many, many eyes. No eyes. Eyes that focus on you and also nothing at all. You swear that you see a different reflection of the same scene before them in each eye.

The portal also has some pretty bows, which, if the gap itself weren't enough, would immediately tip you off to whom it might be that it belongs to.

Silken bows of the most luxurious material, and yet, at the same time, tattered bows of ancient threadbare cloths of time immemorial, held together simply by their defiance at the ages that have passed.

Velvet ribbons that look particularly pompous.

Cotton knots that look cheap.

Wool ties that look soft.

Linen of the most simple design.

Every kind of cloth, each looking different ages, are before you, and yet none of them at all. You realize that the abyss sees you as you gaze upon it.

It looks amused.

It looks terrifically, terribly amused.

And, as if she were always there, and yet never was, a woman is watching you with all expressions and yet none. Through them all, you see a grin.

A seemingly infinite number of things are said at once, and yet they all amount to one thing.

A greeting.

Cloe perks up while X just looks the most lost in the possibilities of it all. "Hello, old Master! You seem positively variable today!"

Suddenly, the woman before you snaps to a singular reality, or at least you assume, as her form is not all that could be, but one that is. Her eyes settle on violet. Her dress is violet as well. Her white gloves open a fan of a yin yang design, fanning herself. "[My, my, Tokiko, you've been busy, have you not? I hope you made something for myself as well as the librarian. I would be quite wounded if you did not~.]" A titter gently shakes her refined form.

Cloe's head-wing wags the hardest yet. "Of course! I could never be so rude to you, old Master!" She grabs a particularly large coated worm, offering it to her.

Smiling, the woman musses Cloe's hair-like feathers much to the small girl's consternation. "[My, the biggest one? How generous of you~]" She plucks the night crawler-sized treat, and, unexpectedly, takes a delicate bite. "[spoiler]Caramel, hmm? How unexpected...[/spoiler]" She takes another bite. It's a bit disconcerting to see her take a bite, and yet talk as if her mouth is empty. You saw no movement of the jaw, nor that of swallowing, after she took that bite.

It was simply... gone.

And then her eyes slowly move to you, and your fight or flight nearly kicks in as soon as they stop on you, knowing full well what and whom she is, while even now having no idea all the same. Before you can flee, she compliments, "[You are quite skilled at making caramel, aren't you?]" You blink. "[Ohh, don't look at me like that.]" She chuckles this time. "[I give credit where credit is due; you...]" She eyes the head. "[...have impressed me. You managed to kill a Reimu.]" The term ['a'] makes you shudder, but you don't have time to consider this.

Next, her eyes suddenly twitch to X. "[And you... The things we do for love, hmm? It's best not to try to bring back the dead, however; no matter what one does, they will never be the same.]" Her eyes move to the chair. "[After all, poor Arnold exemplifies this, does he not? He's certainly been Changed...]" X simply gazes at the chair, a complex expression on her face.

Her eyes move back to you. "[Now, then. I shall be needing that head, I'm afraid. Perhaps you would make a deal with little ol' me?]"

Her smile is as pleasant as it is genuine.

[Her smile is as eerie as it is fake.]

Yukari eyes you. "[So be it~]" She points the open fan at you, a wicked grin upon those pleasant features, like calm waters troubled by a hurricane. "[This is the end for you, Tokiko.]"

You swallow the lump of dread forming in your throat. "...That is for the best."

Her eyes fill with mirth. [But they don't.]

The fan snaps shut like a guillotine's descent. [And yet it never did.]

Your eyes widen in shock. [And yet they never do.]

You look down at yourself.

[It seems to be the ordinary clothes you made with your youki.] Red and white shrine maiden garb greets you, if heavily modified for comfort and ease of maneuverability, not to mention kept together with wishful thinking and a favor owed here and there.

[You look to Yukari, confused at nothing happening.] You're thankful for the peace as you clear the snow a bit.

[Yukari vanishes before your eyes, as she was never there to begin with.] You hold a hand to your mouth as you let out a yawn, which leads to stretching, followed by setting down your shovel for a moment.

[You look extremely alarmed as you wildly look for people who have already left, finished with their tasks.] "...I think I'll have some tea."

[You try to scream for help, knowing it already to be too late for you.] You check your cupboards, finding them depressingly empty, like usual.

[ ] You open up the offery box, sighing at the sight: empty, just like always. You sigh. It seems you don't have money for tea. But what to do? Drink water? No, that won't do. You have an odd feeling that you will need tea, but you aren't sure what for. You pull out your gohei, taking to the skies.

You wander around aimlessly for a time.

[In the end, you are without tea, resulting in quite the chain of events, ending in the shrine's destruction. Again.] You spot a bird reading a book, with books stacked beside it. Your mind clicks, a smile spreading on your lips.

[It was caused by a(n erhu wielding girl who claims you know her, and seemingly fades in and out of reality. She apparently did this to gain your attention, as you've been ignoring her for months. Obviously Yukari's doing.) trio of instrument wielding poltergeists who took their encore a bit too far. Who they are, you aren't sure.] [As luck would have it, unsealing your most troublesome of (foes that tormented you as a child, causing you to wake up Genji for one last ride, as you need his wisdom on this one for reasons heavily foreshadowed in a story that never gets finished.) headaches. Get it? Because you're a shrine maiden. Sealing. Yeah, it was a terrible joke.] You know just where to get the money for tea.

The bird looks up at her destiny, before life teaches her just how truly unfair it can be.

Jeez... Some resolution this has turned out to be... I've been inactive for 2 months! ...Sorta. Honestly, till the last couple weeks, I've actually been semi-diligently working on writing, but now... Well, anywho, I hope you enjoyed my writing practice/Valentine's Day gift for someone or other~