Dynamite Dreams and Minefield Romance
“It's basically a ceremony—flashing your blinker and cutting in!”
“It's just like an adventure, you know? The food tastes amazing after sweating it out.”
“Right?! That's exactly what I mean!”
Elma's face lit up with delight. Her gloomy eyes sparkled with life for the first time in ages.
“Human tourist spots are so noisy! Underground is the best! Quiet, perfect humidity! And the smell of stone and the whisper of underground streams—pure bliss!”
Elma was buzzing with excitement, climbing onto my thigh in a single hop.
“Plus, rare mana crystal fragments pop up here sometimes! If we're lucky and snag one, it'll more than cover our trip expenses!”
“Y-Yes, got it.”
She was already pumped at the thought of swinging a pickaxe.
“My husband really is the best in the world!”
Whoosh. Elma threw her arms around my neck with all her might, rubbing her cheek against mine in a frenzy of joy.
“E-Elma, can't... breathe...”
“Not letting go! I'm sticking to you like this foreverrr—!”
She always exceeds expectations, really.
And yet.
“Hehe, this is gonna be so much fun, right?”
If this little woman can smile like that, then yeah—this is more than enough.
============================
The next afternoon. Back home after class.
Thankfully, Elma hadn't tagged along today. Was her separation anxiety getting better? I sighed in relief as I opened the door.
“What in the world...”
The house was a warzone. From the entryway to the living room, delivery boxes formed towering walls.
“Oh! Hubby’s home?”
A tiny head popped out from behind a pile of boxes.
“All the trip gear I ordered arrived! Unboxing as we speak!”
Thud. Crash. Pop pop pop.
Elma crawled out through the boxes, cutter knife in hand, her face beaming with pride.
'Trip gear...'
I swallowed hard.
A trip. Just the two of us. In some remote spot, no less. Sure, it was an abandoned mine, but it was still a couple's getaway, right? Even if things were a bit weird, my professor turned seductive at night. She must've prepared something fitting.
Like sexy lingerie for special events. Or naughty cosplay outfits. Maid uniforms or bunny girl getups. Maybe even 'toys' for inside the tent.
Any guy would have expectations.
“Let me help.”
Heart pounding, I grabbed a box and ripped open the tape.
Clank. Heavy metal clunk.
Huh?
“...”
Bit heavy for underwear?
Inside: a massive black metal lump. With a handle.
“A pickaxe?”
“Yup! Custom-ordered for shattering bedrock! Titanium blade, carbon fiber handle!”
Elma puffed out her chest proudly.
Suspicious from the first item. I hurriedly tore into the others.
Industrial lantern the size of a house. Spiked hiking boots. Gas mask. Piles of combat rations. Geiger counter and mystery gauges. Even portable oxygen cans.
“...”
Useful, sure, but for a couple's trip? Way too tactical.
“Elma, what's all this...?”
“Exploration gear for the ultimate trip!”
Elma planted her hands on her hips and declared triumphantly.
“It's an abandoned mine! Could collapse any second! A proper dwarf wife has to protect her hubby!”
“But still, it's our honeymoon...”
My romantic dreams shattered.
Feeling hollow, I rummaged through another box.
“Hm?”
A stick bumped my fingers. I pulled it out.
“...”
Cylinder wrapped in paper. Long fuse sticking out the end.
Familiar design. From action flicks or Westerns.
“No way...”
Trembling, I set it down slowly. Carefully. It might blow.
I turned to Elma, head still low.
“Elma. This isn't real dynamite, is it?”
Delivered to our house? I could already see the SWAT team busting through the ceiling and door.
Seeing my ashen face, Elma shook her head vigorously.
“Nope?”
“Phew...”
Relief. Felt ten years younger.
Probably a replica. Or LED lights.
As I exhaled—
“Why use outdated black powder?”
Elma grinned wickedly, eyes gleaming with pride.
...That look spells trouble.
“Got something much better!”
“...”
'With explosive power.' She didn't say it, but I heard it.
I wanted to pass out.
'Did I marry a guerrilla fighter?'
Headline material right there.
But no energy to complain. I'd get used to her antics eventually.
Besides.
“Hmm~ Hm-hmm~.”
Her packing with such glee. Humming a tune.
“Lemme see... This goes in... And this...”
Stuffing rations and bombs into the same backpack. Short arms straining. Plump butt wiggling.
Pathetic. And insanely cute.
'Fine.'
Arrested or not, how could I rain on her parade?
I let go of calculating firearms law penalties with a deep sigh.
Tap.
Instead, I reached out and lightly squeezed her wiggling butt.
Squishy. Chewy. Like fresh rice cake.
“Hyah?!”
Elma jolted upright, whipping her head around. Round eyes met mine.
“H-Hubby...? Wh-Why all of a sudden...?”
“Just 'cause you're cute.”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. She shyly rubbed her thighs together.
“B-But... I'm packing for the trip...”
“Trip packing.”
I slipped my hands under her armpits. Lifted her effortlessly onto my thigh.
She nestled into my arms like it was natural.
“Is important too.”
I stroked her belly. Finger sank into soft, charming pudge.
Lips to her ear. Hot breath.
“But we gotta pack some 'other stuff' too.”
“O-Other... stuff...?”
Her breath hitched. This seductive professor knew exactly what I meant.
“Can't explore if hubby's tank isn't topped off.”
“Ugh...”
Her face lit up like a thermometer.
Still, she meekly buried her head in my chest. One hand slyly undid the ribbon on her Gothic Lolita dress.
“Then... fill me up lots and lots...”
Her damp forest scent filled my arms. Nutty aroma. Wife brimming with life, shaking off her gloom.
We shared our excitement for a good long while.
Amid piles of bombs and pickaxes.
============================
Saturday afternoon. Abandoned mine entrance, somewhere in Gangwon-do.
Screeech! The SUV slammed to a halt. Brutal brakes.
“We're heeeere—!!”
Clunk. Door flew open. Elma hopped out.
“Yaaay!! The air smells amazing!”
Short legs bouncing, she cheered wildly.
I watched her back, sighing in relief. Legs still shaky.
'I... I survived. Made it alive.'
Elma at the wheel. Her driving was a disaster, as usual.
Speeding baseline. Abrupt lane cuts, high beams, horn spam.
'Blinker cuts are the ceremony!'
Swerving lanes like crazy.
Trunk was the issue. Every jolt: ominous rattles.
Clank. Rattle.
Those damn bombs. Would they collect my remains with tweezers for the coffin?
Cold sweat poured. To survive the rampaging queen, I had one fix.
'Ahh~.'
'Nyam! Nyam. All gone...!'
Constant snacks. Feed her mouth, she calms a bit.
Two hours from Seoul (nav said 3.5).
To slow her, I hit every rest stop.
Mountain of trash: five fish cake skewers. Three hot dog sticks. Two empty walnut pastry bags. Udon bowl plus whole roasted potato.
Traces of my survival bribes.
Where'd all that fit in her tiny body? Still a mystery...
'Not really.'
Her lower belly was bulging.
Cute, though.
“Hubby! Hurry! It's epic!”
Her voice called from outside.
I stuffed trash in a bag and got out.
“You'll fall! Slow down!”
“Wheee—!”
Hyper like a kid. No wonder adults say kids shorten your lifespan.
I chased her waddling steps.
Her gaze fixed on:
“...”
[NO ENTRY]
[DANGER! GROUND COLLAPSE RISK!]
[Trespassers subject to civil and criminal penalties.]
Rusted chain-link fence. Warning signs plastered everywhere. Thick chains sealing the entrance.
Any sane person would turn back.
But.
“Yes! Yes! Perfect! This deserted vibe! Now that's an abandoned mine!”
Elma was over the moon. Almond eyes sparkling.
...That dangerous glint.
“Alright! Let's head in!”
“Wait, Elma. Entrance is blocked. Illegal entry—you really going for it?”
Pointless after buying bombs, but still.
“No worries! This is my specialty!”
Elma strode forward confidently. Grabbed the rusty chain.
Crackle! Sparks flew. Air grew heavy. Sharp ozone stung my lungs.
High-level magic disrupting molecular bonds.
Crunch! Thick chain crumbled to dust, scattering on the ground.
Despite everything, Elma was a master mage.
“Door's open!”
My criminal wife smiled innocently after the crime.
'Is this okay?'
Cold sweat down my spine.
But her face: no trace of recent tears or gloom. Just a hyper hamster in bliss.
Fine. As long as Elma's happy.
I'll make her pay any fines, though.
I quietly stepped over the debris into the entrance.
============================
Inside the mine: pitch black. Floor slick with muck. Cold drips from the ceiling.
Thick rust and mold stench hung in the air.
“Grrraaah—!”
Elma stopped. Arms wide. Deep guttural yell like an old man, dragged from her core.
Inhaled the rotten air deeply.
“Hubby! Smell this!”
Voice thrilled.
“Yes! Yes! This is it! Stale water rotting, this humidity!”
“...”
“Absolute heaven! This is paradise!”
Her tastes still baffled me. Earth folk trait?
But her bouncing was too cute. Heavy breasts jiggling, twin tails swaying. Pure childlike joy from behind.
I pulled out my smartphone.
Click. Click. Click.
Rapid shots. Memories last forever.
Worried about ghost pics, but great subject. Whatever.