SG Vol. 1 pt. 39 (Patreon)

It turns out that I’m a better sundae-maker than Valkyrie. She couldn’t even put a proper spiral of whipped cream on top of mine, and Naomi’s whipped cream “tower,” if it could be called that, fell onto its side right after she was given the bowl.

Well, it’s not like Naomi knows the difference, but I always make sure that she has a tower to put all others to shame. Including my own.

She didn’t put too many toppings on, either. It’s not a sundae unless you can’t even see the ice cream underneath the fudge and caramel.

But, Naomi is happy with hers, so I’ll pretend to be happy with my mediocre sundae. I don’t feel like getting up to fix my sundae myself, and that’d be rude to Valkyrie anyways. I don’t want to be rude around Naomi. That might corrupt her.

“Valkyrie, what’s your game?” I ask.

“What?” she asks back, actually sounding confused. She’s good.

“I’m not going to go easy on you just because you made us sundaes.”

“You should, papa. She makes good sundaes! Let her skip homework next time,” Naomi announces.

“You’re right. I’ll let her skip homework when I get back to class.” That would require having homework to give, so I don’t mind offering that.

“That’s alright,” Valkyrie says. “I will gladly do any homework that I am given since doing it will only make me smarter. Right?”

This brat.

“Then I’ll give you so much homework that you won’t even have time to feed yourself.”

“If that is what my teacher wants then that is what I shall gladly accept.”

“You’re like an honor student!” Naomi tells Valkyrie with some whipped cream on her nose. I want to clean it off, but I also want to enjoy the sight of her being cute and having whipped cream on her nose.

“She’s like a brat is what she’s like,” I say before finally wiping the whipped cream off of Naomi’s nose, getting a giggle out of her.

Then, of course, she purposely puts some more right back onto the tip of her nose. Then she waits for me to clean that up, too.

And she waits.

And waits.

The longer she waits for me to clean off her nose, the more puffed-out her cheeks get.

Instead of cleaning off her nose, I put down my bowl to poke in both of her cheeks at once.

“Pwuh! Papa!” she whines and pouts some more.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to clean my nose!”

“Why? It looks pretty clean to me.”

Naomi inflates her cheeks, scoops up some caramel, fudge, and whipped cream all at once onto her finger, and then drops it off onto her nose.

Her nose looks like a complete mess at this point.

“Still looks clean,” I tell her.

She reaches back for more.

“Alright, alright. I’ll clean it. Don’t waste any more of your sundae.”

She grins at me the entire time I use a tissue to clean her nose off.

When I’m done and look back at my sundae, I can’t help but to notice Valkyrie watching us and trying her hardest not to laugh. Instead, she just has a quivering smile trying its best to grow even larger.

I would threaten her if Naomi wasn’t right here.

“Oh! Um, are you good at math?” Naomi asks.

“Me?” Valkyrie asks back.

“Mhm!”

“I am. Why?”

“Because papa is really bad at teaching it.”

I swear I can feel an arrow going through my chest and right through my heart right now.

“I don’t know how to feel knowing that my teacher isn’t good at math. I’m sure that he’s—”

“No, papa is really bad. Like, really, really bad at teaching it.”

“M-maybe you shouldn’t insult his math skills too much. He looks like a ghost right now.”

“Then papa should get better at teaching math.”

The pain my heart feels is worse than whatever the demons have ever done to me. I’d rather lose my only eye left and all my limbs than hear Naomi call me bad at anything ever again.

For such an honest, innocent daughter to be calling me bad at something… I can’t handle this.

I need alcohol.

“You’re going to make your papa sad if you keep calling him bad at math,” Valkyrie says, but it’s too late.

I’m already sad.

“Papa taught me that lying is bad. That’s why I won’t lie and say he’s good at teaching math! But, but, papa is super great at everything else!”

That does make me feel better.

“He’s just the worst at teaching math.”

She says it in such a blunt, monotone, honest voice that it feels like she’s purposely trying to make me depressed.

Valkyrie finally gives up trying to help my ego and laughs at my misery.

She is going to regret ever being born.

Damn it. Being injured and being forced to stay home and recover has been nice, but now I’m itching to get back on my feet so that I can put Valkyrie and the others through Hell. Even if Valkyrie is the one earning my wrath right now, they all deserve to go through pain far worse than the pain of me being called bat at something by Naomi.

I’m not going to let myself be the only who has to suffer.

First, my sundae’s whipped cream tower was pathetic. Now, Valkyrie is laughing at my pain.

I’ll make sure that the cadets understand that any suffering they go through is her fault.

“You can teach me everything else, papa,” Naomi says.

It’s not my fault that I don’t know how to teach math to a little girl. I can’t bring myself to dumb things down too much for her since I don’t want to risk making her feel belittled, but I have no idea how else to describe math, so I’ve always ended up teaching it to her like she’s an adult who can understand complicated terms and techniques.

Shit. I guess I really am bad at teaching math.

“I’ll teach you math if your papa teaches me how to make better sundaes. Deal?” Valkyrie offers.

At least she’s aware of how shit her sundae-making skills are.

Naomi smiles and says, “Deal!”