Once a Year, They Said!
It was supposed to be once a year!
A little over two weeks had passed since that first day of basic training — a day packed with more than its fair share of chaos.
Maybe because the first day had already blown up so spectacularly, everything after that had been relatively uneventful. Ordinary, even.
Sure, the other trainees would sometimes stare holes through me or whisper among themselves while looking my way. But still — ordinary.
"Hwaaam…."
I let out a huge yawn, stretched, and fumbled at the choker around my neck as I dragged myself out of bed.
Maybe the basic training had worn me out more than I realized. Lately, getting up in the morning had become especially hard.
I finally clawed free of the blankets and staggered to the door, still half-asleep. When I opened it, my eyes met Mom's — she was in the kitchen, putting together a simple breakfast of toast and milk.
"Morning, sweetie. Mom's about to eat breakfast — want to join me for even a little bit?"
"Mm…. Just gonna wash my face first…."
The moment I mumbled that I'd eat, Mom's face brightened. I'd had no appetite for days, skipping meals more often than not, and even when I forced myself to eat, I'd only pick at the food.
"…Just wash up."
A strange, uneasy sense of déjà vu prickled at me, but I shook my head hard to banish it and headed for the bathroom.
The moment I stepped inside, the mirror showed me staring back with hollow eyes, glaring at the choker around my neck. It had been uncomfortable at first, but after wearing it for over two weeks straight, I barely even noticed it when I slept anymore.
Right after coming out of the gate, I'd planned to get a custom-made mana-restriction artifact to replace it.
"The production cost for the item you requested will come to thirty-seven million six hundred five thousand eight hundred eighty won."
"I think there's a mistake in the calculation. That price is ridiculous."
"Yes. That does not include the VAT."
These mana-restriction artifacts were absurdly expensive. More precisely, the cost of custom-ordering one was beyond imagination. Compared to mass-produced models like this choker — adult products, really — the custom versions had at least two extra zeros tacked onto the price.
"There's a high potential for misuse, so the tax is quite steep."
"B-but there are products sold commercially. The price difference is…."
"Items with eye-catching designs, or products that can be easily broken the way the one you're using can, get a tax refund after inspection."
So I gave up. They said I could get a refund after having it inspected, but the problem was that I'd still have to pay that monstrous sum up front. The black card sleeping in my wallet flickered through my mind, but I decided to abandon the custom order anyway.
Besides, anything that would qualify for a refund would end up looking basically like a choker. Rather than go through the hassle of an inspection, I figured I'd just get good at controlling my strength and take the thing off for good.
But contrary to my hopes of ditching the choker soon, I still couldn't regulate my strength without it. Early on, I'd thoughtlessly taken it off to shower alone and half-destroyed the bathroom. Thanks to that, I'd had to crouch shivering in the corner, getting soaked by water gushing from the shattered faucet, until Mom closed the shop and came home. And since the choker was velvet, once it got wet and dried, the fabric stretched out — something I really wish I'd known before I wrecked the bed in my sleep.
After that spectacular disaster, aside from when Mom washed me, I spent every hour of every day wearing Velvet Choker Mark II. I'd worn it so constantly that going without it now felt vaguely unsettling. The choker had become that familiar.
"A choker's fine, right…?"
The choker itself was just an accessory. Maybe I could keep wearing it later as a fashion statement.
"…I've lost my mind. Shit."
That thought melted away the instant I saw the weird look on my face as I poked the red ornament on the choker with one finger. The expression in the mirror was so unnervingly strange that I splashed water all over the glass until my reflection disappeared, then hurried out of the bathroom.
"Sweetie. Your complexion — are you feeling sick?"
"…I'm just a little tired."
I absently wiped my freshly washed face with my hand and sat down at the table.
"Well, that's a relief. Think you can finish this?"
"…Probably."
On the plate Mom set in front of me were two triangular slices of French toast, a few strips of bacon still golden and crisp as if they'd just come out of the pan, a single fried egg, and a glass of milk. The rich scent of butter rose from what would normally have been a modest meal just enough to take the edge off hunger — but the smell made my stomach churn strangely.
Mom watched me with worried eyes, then seemed to remember something.
"…Oh, right. While you were washing up, Jihoo's mom called. She said we should all go out to eat together for the first time in a while."
"Suddenly today? That's kind of random."
I picked up a strip of bacon, then set it back down, nauseated by the greasy smell, and bit into a piece of toast instead. We did go out for group meals with Jihoo's family on a regular basis, but it felt like we'd been seeing them more often lately. Normally we only gathered once a season if nothing special was going on, and it hadn't even been a month since we'd all gone shopping together.
"She said she wanted to feed you something nice before your Academy exams."
"Well, if that's the reason…."
With a reason like that, I had no grounds to refuse. I gave a short answer, nodded, and set down my fork. Mom looked at me with pity as I put it aside.
"You're not eating more?"
"Nah. I'm full."
I stood up having barely managed to finish the milk, leaving more than half the food on the plate untouched. I hadn't eaten much at all, yet my stomach already felt strangely full, as if something were packed inside it.
For a moment the last time I'd laid an egg flashed through my mind, but I shook my head. No way. Barely three weeks had passed since the last oviposition, and this time my belly didn't feel knotted the way it had before.
It absolutely wasn't oviposition. I was just tired. My body was just a little off, that was all.
The place we'd arranged to meet Jihoo's family was close to Mom's shop, so we decided I'd just meet them there instead of having anyone pick me up. Mom looked worried about how rough I'd been seeming lately, but she reluctantly nodded when I insisted I was fine.
I lounged around the house alone until it was nearly time, then threw myself together and headed out. Once I was outside, I felt a little self-conscious about showing up in sweatpants and a white T-shirt with just a light jacket thrown over them — but then again, when had our families ever stood on ceremony at these get-togethers? Last time we'd all shown up at a hotel restaurant in matching Hawaiian shirts.
With that thought, I boarded the subway toward the meeting spot with a light step. It was still well before rush hour, so the car was quieter than expected. I stretched my tail out comfortably across the seat without worrying about anyone's eyes.
I could feel someone staring from farther down the car, but I deliberately pretended not to notice and pulled out my phone. I texted Mom that I'd left, but the little "1" next to the message still hadn't disappeared even after two stops. She must be swamped with customers, I figured, and was about to check the route map to see how much farther I had to go when—
"Ugh…!?"
An all-too-familiar pain bloomed in my gut. That restless, something-wants-to-come-out sensation — not the urge to pee, but a heavy, crushing pressure. A throbbing that tried to force its way through somewhere tightly sealed. Cold sweat broke out as I clutched my lower belly.
That couldn't be right. They'd said at most twice a year. Not even a full month had passed. So why—
"Hhk…."
Why did it feel like an egg was about to come out?
It was so unfair. I was so annoyed. Tears pricked at my eyes for no good reason. But this was no time to sit there feeling sorry for myself.
"P-please…. Hurry, please…."
My body didn't care about my circumstances. It was preparing to lay an egg whether I liked it or not. A flood of mucus meant to ease the egg's passage was starting to seep out of me in little increments.
I bit my lip and clenched hard, trying to hold it back, but I couldn't withstand the mounting pressure. A moan slipped free.
"Hah…."
I still had to hold on. No matter how empty the car was, this was a subway with other people on it. I absolutely could not spill the kind of oviposition fluid that had soaked straight through my pants last time — not in front of strangers.
"Ah…. Augh…."
I forced myself up from the seat, grabbed a handrail, and stared desperately at the subway doors as the train rattled on. Please. Please open. Please, before I lose it, please.
Something heavy surged up from deep in my belly, a sensation of being shoved outward that made my hips twitch involuntarily. My sweat-slick head drooped of its own accord. My hands grew so clammy they kept slipping off the handrail. I clenched with everything I had, but before the train even thought about slowing down—
"Hah-hhnn…."
I finally couldn't hold it. The strength went out of me between my legs. All the oviposition fluid I'd been bottling up came flooding out at once, instantly soaking through my underwear and pants.
—Drip-drip-drip.
Before I could even fully register the unpleasant wetness spreading between my thighs, the hot liquid punched straight through my pants and poured onto the floor. What the sweatpants couldn't hold ran in slow rivulets down my legs.
"No, stahp, stop it…."
I tried to block the oviposition fluid with trembling hands, but it slipped indifferently between my fingers and kept spilling onto the floor. Shame had melted my brain into a useless mess.
Black pants, so maybe it won't show. But what about the wet clothes? What about the sound? The subway's loud enough that maybe no one heard. What if the person who was staring earlier is still looking? I don't know.
It was supposed to be once a year!
Worries and resentment poured into my head the same way the fluid was pouring out of me, turning everything to chaos — and at last the train that had seemed like it would never stop began to slow. The moment the doors I'd been praying for slid open, I practically threw myself out of the car.
I forced my shaking legs to move, but I had no idea where to go.
Where the hell was I supposed to lay this egg?