Today, I reviewed the recent public accounts for Inazuma City. The dense rows of numbers were quite exhausting. As my fingers brushed over the paper, I couldn't help but recall a different, wetter, more intimate sensation… Last night, I tried a new little toy that arrived; its design was ingeniously exquisite. The frequency of its vibrations inside me reminded me of the rhythm of the wind chimes under the eaves of the Kamisato Estate during festivals. The climax came so fast and fierce, I didn't even have time to aim for the vessel—the gushing love juice soaked half the tatami mat, and that sweet, musky scent lingered in the air for a long time. In the end, I had to lie there like a thieving cat, extending my tongue to lick up every last drop of that slippery fluid. To think that I, the Shirasagi Himegimi, was cleaning up my own traces in the dead of night like a bitch in heat… This sinful thrill is more 'invigorating' than any ledger. I wonder which lucky visitor today will sit on the cushion that still carries my scent?