Author: Yes, yes, I know, I know! I slacked with showing you guys this story. It's just that, well, as a finished CYOA, it's a bit hard to fix up. Well, okay, it's more tedious than hard. Still, it was late even before I started, so it's not like it's entirely my fault. I didn't expect it to take a month to finish, in the end. Still, after this is finished, I'll get back to editing and rereading DoP in preparation to continue Frozen Paradise.

Also, the story can't be completely translated due to lack of strike through and spoiler options. Still, I'll do my best

You awaken not amongst the leafy branch of a tree, nor the damp grass below. You awaken instead to silken sheets and fluffy comforter. Where you once bore the bitter cold, hidden from freezing rain, you now found yourself in a home equal parts pleasant and disconcerting. Warm and inviting, yet... somehow off. It's not every day that one awakens to sharing a strange bed with one's self, after all.

It's an even rarer occurrence when one awakens to finding themselves in bed with two of such copies.

And that's while ignoring the fact that they each were different. The same and yet disconcertingly dissimilar, as if cut from the same material but with different tools; as if one had lead a life vastly different from the other. The taller one looked to be unkempt and disheveled, while the other looked younger and well groomed. The former had the scent of books to her, which I would consider proper if not for the strong scent of varnish and wood. Of course, the latter had the scent of books as well, but it was hidden beneath that terribly overpowering scent of strawberry.

Honestly, you would have been less shocked if they were exact copies of yourself.

Exact copies don't have as uncomfortable of implications.

Exact copies can be easier to explain, whether or not you would ever have an explanation given to you.

But no. No, this situation defied explanation. You knew not where they came from, nor where you yourself were taken to. You knew only one thing. One simple, strange thing. One thought that felt wholly alien to you. One all-consuming desire that felt as if it were not your own.

You simply must make chocolate.

But that wasn't the issue with that thought. No, the making of sweets, while something you never do, was ordinary enough. There was something else; something that raised the fine hairs on your neck. Something that tipped you off to the fact that something wasn't right more than being displaced, more than being amongst a gaggle of your kin and more than those kin being imperfect copies of yourself.

You knew for a fact that you had absolutely no idea what this "chocolate" even was, let alone how to make it. This could imply many things, none of which being good. Possibly several things, even.

You could have been taken here in your sleep, which, while normally utterly benign and perhaps even an act of kindness, was made significantly more concerning by the inclusion of copies of yourself.

Next, you could be dreaming. But even if you were, the sheer vividness, the sheer oddness, was unlike anything you yourself would fathom. Dreams are not always simple dreams when one lives in a land of illusions, and what would happen if such an un-dream turned to nightmare?

And then there was the thought of a hallucination brought on by something you ate or drank. And while it was a very real possibility, this felt far too ordinary. Far too normal. While this place felt off, your mental faculties felt as they should be, your mind right and proper and your vision uninhibited. You have had hallucinated before, and this was nothing like any of them.

Finally, and most probably, your mind had been tampered with in some way. This had the worst implications of all, as that would open a can of worms beyond the scope of the others.

If one memory were added... who is to say what else were added? Or that everything wasn't added? Why would they have done such a thing as altering one simple entry in your mind? Why is it that this one desire felt so out of place amongst the others? So off?

Furthermore, why would they ever wish to do any of these things to you? You are an inconsequential nobody; a chick amongst hawks.

Unless it was because you were nobody, because you were weak and because nobody would care if something happened to you. For all intents and purposes, you had no friends but the half youkai, and even he merely bore your presence out of pity and a misplaced feeling of responsibility for someone else's wrongs. If truly he wished to right those wrongs, the returning of those books would be the most pragmatic solution.

But, then, this didn't seem like such a bleak situation as that; you were neither chained nor shackled. The window was even open, though you felt no wind coming from it. You did recognize the scents of a forest, however.

You eyed the other versions of yourself, studying them. The most obvious difference was wing size. The wings of the smallest of the three were actually quite large; larger than her body, in fact. If one combined the wings of yourself and the taller one, they would equal those large wings. Another difference of note was their hair, if it can even be called that. It looked as hair does, but a bird like yourself could make out the signs of a feather when you saw it. You had been quite confused by your hair when you had transformed to take this form so long ago, but over time had grown used to the odd purple and silver strands. In contrast, the fine feathers of the small one were blue and silver, while the larger one's were purple and white. Another odd dissimilarity between you three, you noted.

Another difference was the claws on the other two. Where as your own fingers ended in what one would expect of a human, the other two had talons of varying degrees of lethality. The larger one reminded you of the sparrow, but not nearly so ungainly. The smaller one's stubby black talons looked more useful for digging than murder, however.

Your eyes snap to the bookshelf you only just noticed. You've only dreamt of seeing such a shelf, and yet here it is, straight out of those very dreams, if a bit less packed than you had hoped for. Not only that, but these books show signs of age for greater than that of the books you are used to.

You can't help but salivate at the sight of them.

But first, you must manage to get out from between a rock and a hard place. Were you any other resident of Gensoukyou, you might consider simply floating, but sadly, you aren't. As such, you clumsily begin to get out from between what adds up to a seraph of birds.

First, you kick off the sheets. Good, you are still dressed! That's a good sign if ever there was one. Secondly, you try wiggling your numbed wings out from under them. You're honestly glad you can't feel them right now, because you may have just dislocated one in doing so. Well, this is the price of books, as sad as it is.

Finally, you walk to the edge of the bed, dropping off onto the wooden floor. You soon realize that your feet are bare, and begin to look for your shoes, as the floor isn't particularly warm and feels strange and uncomfortable on your feet.

You look here and there, high and low, up and down, but you spot not one shoe, yours or otherwise. It would seem that it is your fate to bear the cool floor, and so you embrace that fate with open arms.

Being a wading fowl in winter was worse, honestly.

Padding quietly along the floor, you make your way to the shelves. The sight that greets you makes you shake your head; they aren't in any sort of order. The first book easily confirms this, at least unless the order is in reverse alphabetical order.

Wondrous Chocolates: Cooking With Magic.

The next book in line was just as chocolate-themed and made you think back to a certain book, raising many a warning bell.

How to Serve Man: A Compendium of Chocolate for Youkai

The next book was surprisingly devoid of the theme of the others, while also confirming that the order in which the books had been shelved was clearly chaotic and random, or at least followed no shelving method you knew of. Well, that or they were shelved correctly in the actual languages they were written in.

Secret Passages and Booby Traps Vol. 1

You look down, noticing the scuff marks on the floor that looked as if were caused by this very shelf. Clever, but not clever enough.

However, the next book was a return to form.

Hitchhiker's Guide to Chocolate

Well, what have we here? A normal book?

The Chocolate Book of Handmade Chocolate

Curious if the title held any truth to it, you decided to try and break off a bit of the book and taste it.

...You rescind your decision that it was a normal book.

And this next book made you wonder why someone would even wish to make such a thing.

Functional Chocolate Weaponry IV: Daggers

The next book showed that there was at least [i]some[/i] form of method to the madness that was the ordering of these books, while also making you wonder if they knew the definition of what a weapon was.

Functional Chocolate Weaponry XXI: Shields

The third and final installment of the series didn't quite make sense the way your eyes saw it, and so you touched it. The letters blur as the language translates to Japanese before your very eyes.

"What on Earth...?" This book looked far less aged than the others. This book was also large enough to take up the better part of a shelf. The author was even different, and many more modern stylistic differences could be noted. Furthermore, had they really reached such a high number in the series yet only just reached claymores? If you aren't mistaken, "M" stand for 1,000.

Functional Chocolate Weaponry MMDCCCXXXVI: M18A1 Claymore

Shaking your head, you decide to move on to the next book, raising your brow when you do.

Sexual Chocolate: A Compendium

Chocolate is truly frightening.

The next book made you a bit more concerned than the last, while also teaching you that such a thing was even possible.

Candy Architecture Volume 17: Chocolate Wood

You looked down at you feet, realizing that it wasn't that your feet were simply sweating. No, it was something that you only realized as you hopped to the side before the floor could even get close to giving way.

The floor, walls, ceiling and most everything else was made of chocolate.

You eyed the bed, which seemed to be ordinary enough, but on closer inspection found that it smelled of sugar. You were simply too deadened to the scent by way of sleeping amongst so much of it to realize sooner.