Valentine's Day is, inevitably, about chocolate.
Whether it's a token of gratitude or a confession of love, the amount and presentation seem to reflect a person's moral character—or so the classroom gossip goes.
"Lovely-san is amazing."
"Well, thank goodness."
Lovely's desk was buried under a mountain of chocolates. As expected of our beautiful class president.
To prevent the pile from toppling, I added my own chocolate to the stack. It felt like playing a puzzle game—strategically placing pieces to keep the structure intact.
"Here, this is in return."
"Wow, thank you!"
Lovely handed me a small, heart-shaped chocolate from a pristine white bag. It was adorable. High feminine power. I popped it into my mouth and moved on.
"Thank You, this is for you too."
"Thank you. Here's mine for Viola."
"Thank you."
Her chocolate came in a large box. Inside was a giant heart-shaped piece with the words Dear My Trainer written across it.
"The size reflects my feelings for Viola."
"Oh… thank you."
It was sweet—literally and figuratively. I appreciated it, even if the sugar content was overwhelming.
"Ms. Symboli, this is for you."
"Thank you."
I handed two chocolates to Ayrton Symboli, who'd been helping me a lot lately. Keeping things smooth with the Symboli family was important.
Symboli's return gift came in a pink package—surprisingly cute for her usual image. She exchanged chocolates with several classmates, blending into the Valentine's buzz.
The biggest topic of the day, of course, was favorite chocolate—the kind you give when you're confessing your feelings.
Rumors swirled about love derbies among trainers or horse girls in high school. You could hear the chaos from the classrooms upstairs. But here, in our junior high bubble, things were peaceful.
Still, a few curious classmates asked, "What will Viola give Rice Shower?"
I was caught off guard. When I showed them the chocolate and said, "It's normal," they looked openly disappointed.
I get it. I'm always with Rice-chan, so it's easy to imagine something more. It's kind of cute, really. But Rice-chan already has someone she likes. So… no thank you.
Just to be sure, I checked with Thank You.
"I don't have any hobbies that fall between it."
A mysterious answer—but reassuring. Maybe a little too self-aware.
In the end, no one gave me favorite chocolate. And the class atmosphere was a mix of relief and mild disappointment.