GetBackers Fan Fiction ❯ Dancing on Ecstasy ❯ Chapter 1

Dancing on Ecstasy

By Mizu Onna

Disclaimer: I don't own Get Backers. Don't sue me.

Author's notes: Due to the lack of Get Backers fanfiction out there, I've decided to contribute my share. ^_^ Emishi x Natsumi pairing. They're so cute together!

I wrote in the honorific Emishi uses (Natsumi-han) because it's cute, I'm a stickler for details, and it gives an insight into his character (if I'm not mistaken, that's the Kyoto accent).

Yes, I am aware that Emishi is his last name, and that his first name is Haruki. I felt that it would be more apt if Natsumi stuck to calling him Emi-san, though. At least, for now.

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Most passersby turned to look at him. Not because he sitting alone on one of the city park benches and eating okonomiyaki with almost indecent relish, but because of his strange and somewhat off-putting appearance. It wasn't everyday that that one saw a man slinging a whip behind him. And if one were to see a man with a whip slung on his back, he certainly wouldn't be wearing cheesy sunglasses (with blue lenses and pink rimming!) with a green jacket, a fuchsia shirt, jeans, and brown sneakers.

Such was the appearance of Emishi Haruki. And people stared at him sometimes. But he didn't mind; he loved the attention, truth be told. He was pleased that people looked at him with a fond sort of amusement, because if they knew what sins and crimes he committed for a living, they would have looked at him with horror, revulsion, and disgust instead.

Emishi finished off his Japanese pancakes happily and leaned back on the bench, moving his whip out of the way so that he could lie back comfortably. He had just come back from a successful mission with Shido that took a mere two days to complete. The client had also been generous with the paycheck, and he and Shido now had considerably fatter wallets.

Emishi grinned, thinking about Shido, Madoka, and their life together at her estate. The man seemed to be lucky with love; it looked as if he found the one, and really, Emishi was happy for his friend. As for himself, he was single, having recently broken up with another of his girlfriends. And really, Emishi didn't mind. He was heartbroken at the start, of course-she was a pretty little spitfire, that girl!-but it was good while it lasted, and he had no regrets. Because, really, she wasn't the one, and both of them knew it.

Idly watching the sunset-glazed park and its occupants, Emishi spied a throng of schoolgirls not far from where he sat; they were chatting and giggling as they walked, obviously very excited about something. He could hear snatches of their conversation, and from what he could gather, they were talking about this school dance. One of them caught his eye, and she blushed and cracked him a smile.

Preening, Emishi flashed her a bright smile. She blushed and bit her lip.

He looked at the rest of her friends. All of them were looking at him with interest, although some of them seemed to be put out by his whip.

"Minna! Chotto matte!"

Another girl came running from behind them, and they greeted her cheerfully and immediately started (subtly) gesticulating to Emishi. Emishi couldn't see her very clearly; she was hidden by a tree in the distance. He could hear them talking about him, though.

He then heard the girl gasp. She ran out from behind the tree towards him, shouting, "Emi-san!" amidst gales of laughter.

"Natsumi-han!" he exclaimed. Indeed, it was Natsumi running towards him, hair trailing after her. She skidded to a stop before him, and he gave her a big grin. "How are you?" he asked excitedly. He scooted over to make room for her on the bench, and she sat beside him.

"I'm okay!" she said cheerfully. "I'm on break today. How about you? I visited Madoka-chan yesterday, and she said that you and Shido-san were out on a mission."

"Yeah. We've just come back," he said with satisfaction. "Aw, you should've come earlier, Natsumi-han! I could've bought you some okonomiyaki too!" He pouted, and she giggled. "By the way, are those your friends?" He pointed to the group still lingering some distance away from him.

Natsumi laughed. "Hai! They're looking for dates for the school dance."

Emishi raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he mused.

"Actually, so am I," Natsumi added as an afterthought. "And I can't ask Ban-san or Ginji-san because they're out on a mission too." She sighed. There was a slight pause. Suddenly, inspiration seemed to strike, and her eyes lit up. Emishi had seen that look of firm resolve in her eyes before, and in all honesty, he was slightly freaked out. "Ne, Emi-san, can you come with me to the school dance? Onegaishimasu?" Natsumi asked eagerly.

"Er . . . " Emishi sweatdropped.

"Onegaishimasu?" she repeated, giving him a beseeching look. Emishi felt his heart soften, and he sighed. Again, she'd conned him! Women!

"Alright, alright," he agreed, immediately feeling lighter when Natsumi squealed and clapped her hands together with happiness. "When is it?"

"Next Saturday!" Natsumi replied, eyes bright. "It's just a casual thing, so you don't have to worry about the dress code. I'll meet you at the café?" He nodded, and she bounced once in her seat. "6:30 PM, next Saturday! You don't have to worry about transportation; let's just walk. The school's really close to the café." He nodded to indicate that he understood. "Arigato, Emi-san!" Natusmi patted his shoulder before running off with a wave. He waved back amusedly and watched as her friends strangled her because she had asked him for a date before they had.

Next Saturday came about quickly enough. Before Emishi knew it, it was time to meet Natsumi at the Honky Tonk Café.

Paul gave him a nod of acknowledgement as he entered.

"Yo, Paul-han!" Emishi said by way of greeting before settling down upon a bar stool.

"You're a bit early," the café proprietor said as he scrubbed the counter clean.

"Are? Oh, yeah, Natsumi-han said we should meet at 6:30 . . . " Emishi checked the wall clock and saw that he was about five minutes early.

"I'm glad you agreed to accompany Natsumi-chan to her dance," Paul said approvingly. Emishi could swear that there was a fatherly air about the man. "She was worried that she'd be the only one dateless at school."

Emishi grinned. "Emishi Haruki to the rescue!" he exclaimed, striking a pose and eliciting a laugh from the shopkeeper.

It was at that moment that Natsumi entered the door, flanked by Hevn. The younger girl was donning a white dress that fell just to her knees. The gauzy material accentuated her developing curves nicely, and Emishi found himself staring at her, unable to tear himself away from his embarrassing pose.

"So, what do you think?" Hevn said slyly, noticing Emishi's flabbergasted expression. She and Paul exchanged meaningful looks, both of them aware of Emishi's reaction.

"Ano . . . Natsumi-han," Emishi stammered.

"Emi-san! Omatashimashita!" Natsumi put in. She fidgeted with the long sleeves of her dress nervously and flashed him a bright smile.

"I-Iya . . . No problem . . . " Emishi said weakly. A moment of silence passed before Hevn cleared her throat, snapping him out of his reverie. "You look fantastic, Natsumi-han!" he exclaimed, nodding vigorously for emphasis.

"Honto?" she asked, brightening even more.

Emishi continued nodded vehemently. "Aa!"

"Anyway, shouldn't you two be going? You might be late for Natsumi-chan's dance," Paul suggested.

"Hai!" Natsumi turned to Emishi. "Shall we go, Emi-san?"

"Let's," he replied. He offered an arm to her, and she took it. "Ja, futari-han!" Natsumi gave Hevn a thankful hug and Paul a cheerful wave, and together, the two of them exited the café.

"Let's hope the night has a happy ending," Hevn muttered as she watched the couple stroll down the street.

"I'm sure it will," Paul said knowingly as he moved on to washing the dishes.

The dance went by pretty quickly. At first, everyone seemed to give Emishi strange looks, but he quickly became the center of attention throughout the entire event. He and Natsumi had spent a good amount of the evening cleaning out the buffet, and what was left of the night was dedicated to dancing. Before they knew it, it was midnight, and it was time for the students to go home.

"Ne, it's a pity that the night's over," Emishi said with a small pout as the dance floor cleared.

"Hai," Natsumi agreed, giving the empty floor a wistful look. "I wish we could keep on dancing . . . but I suppose I should be going home."

"I'll walk you, Natsumi-han," Emishi offered generously. Natsumi gave him a grateful smile and a nod.

They set off towards Natsumi's house.

After a few minutes of walking through the gold-limned streets of Tokyo, Natsumi darted towards a streetlamp and waited for Emishi to catch up.

"I had a good time tonight, Emi-san," she told him when he reached her.

"Me too," he answered, giving her a big grin.

"Arigato, Emi-san," Natsumi said earnestly. She surprised him by taking his hands in hers and clasping them just beneath her chin. Her hair, out of its ubiquitous tie for once, brushed against his hands, cool and gossamer-light. Emishi was slightly unnerved by their compromising situation, but as she didn't seem to mind, he felt compelled to let her act as she wished; he was rather certain that she meant no malice or innuendo, and so, swallowing his own discomfort, he kept his hands where she held them, uncomfortably close to her . . . somewhat ample chest.

"You're welcome, Natsumi-han," he replied, cracking a smile.

"I had a really good time," she said again, nodding fervently.

"Yokata," he responded. Her hands were soft to the touch, and he found his thoughts drifting elsewhere . . .

Hentai! Sukebe! Ero yaro! His conscience screamed in his ear. She's only seventeen!

But then, he reminded himself, he wasn't innocent-quite the opposite, actually-when he was seventeen.

But still! The voice yelled. She's your friend. . . .

"Emi-san?" Natsumi's lilting voice pierced his thoughts.

"Eh?" He snapped out of his reverie. "Ah, gomen nasai, I got lost in thought. . . ."

"Yes, Emi-san." He could hear the laughter in her voice.

"Ah . . . Ano . . ." Emishi found himself stuttering. He suddenly felt had to leave because he didn't want to end up doing anything strange with Natsumi, who he considered a very dear friend. Besides, if things didn't work out between them, Ban, Ginji, Paul, Hevn, and a number of other people would probably be out to get his head.

Emishi gulped. Just as he was about to suggest that they resume their walk back to her house-the sooner he dropped her off, the better-he made the mistake of looking at her face.

Her gray-green eyes were bright with anticipation, cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

"I know I shouldn't, but . . . oh-"

Before he knew it, she had dropped his hands and was pressing her lips to his, her fingers tangling in the loose mesh of his green jacket.

Her mouth was soft and sweet, and Emishi found himself drowning in her kiss. What she lacked in experience she made up for in enthusiasm.

However, sweet as it was, Emishi pulled away. His conscience was killing him.

"I-I can't," he rasped.

"Doushite?" He could hear the hurt in her voice.

"Natsumi-han, I don't think that's a good idea. . . ." Emishi sighed, rubbing his temples, carefree demeanor gone. "Has anyone told you anything about me?"

Slowly, Natsumi shook her head.

"I . . . I'm fond of women, Natsumi-han," Emishi admitted. He took a deep breath. "Too fond of women. If we get together, I'm afraid that . . . that I might tire of you, or you of me . . . I-"

"Emi-san," Natsumi interrupted. "Do you have a girlfriend now?"

"Well, no . . ."

"Then it's fine with me." Natsumi kept her eyes trained on the ground as she spoke to him, her hands clasped modestly before her. "I truly don't mind, Emi-san; I'd like to give it a try. And if it ends earlier than I'd like it to, that's alright . . . at least I was able to spend some time with you!" At this, she raised her eyes to meet his. His heart ached when he saw the hope shining in their depths. "Onegaishimasu?" she pleaded.

"Natsumi-han . . ."

And again, she somehow found her way into his arms and her lips sought and found his once more. Her hands clutched at his back, her body pressed against his. . . . Emishi gathered his strength so that he could push her away, but found that he couldn't . . . it was difficult to deny what he felt . . . and with a groan as he gave in, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer as their lips parted and met.

The kiss went on for a minor, bittersweet eternity.

Finally, they had to pull away from one another to get air.

Emishi pressed his forehead to Natsumi's as they stood beneath the warm, golden light of the streetlamp. She gazed up at him, worrying her kiss-swollen bottom lip with her teeth, before finally remarking, "I don't want to go home yet, Emi-san."

"Eh . . . what do you want to do, then?" Emishi asked, somewhat awkwardly.

Natsumi blushed. "Well . . . I don't want to seem too forward, but . . . maybe your place?" She tilted her head to one side in thought. "Or maybe we could just stay here. . . . This is nice," she decided after a moment of thought.

"You wouldn't want to come to my place anyway, Natsumi-han," Emishi remarked with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Mugenjo isn't very scenic."

Natsumi muttered something that Emishi didn't quite catch, and he said, "Eh? What was that, Natsumi-han?"

Natsumi looked at him embarrassedly. "Or we could go to a hotel," she repeated quickly, almost tripping over her words with her haste to get them out.

Emishi raised both eyebrows, a grin quirking on his lips, and Natsumi turned scarlet. "I-I didn't mean it in a-oh, fine," she huffed, crossing her arms. "Ah, gomen nasai, Emi-san! You must think I'm being silly." Natsumi gave him a sheepish smile, which he returned with amusement.

"Kawaii," he said brightly, and he took her into his arms again.

She shivered as their bodies pressed against one another's. She fit snugly against him with her head just beneath his chin and her arms round his chest. The floral scent of her shampoo tickled his nose pleasantly, and he twined his fingers through her unbound hair. Hair was his vanity, and he was pleased to see that she took good care of hers.

"Do you still want to go to a hotel?" Emishi piped up some minutes later.

Natsumi pulled back so that she could gaze up at him. "Ano . . . what will we do there?" she inquired with a furious blush and a tiny, almost expectant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Natsumi-han, what do you want to do there?" Emishi asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

He wasn't expecting her to frown and to furrow her eyebrows in thought.

"I know it might be fast . . . demo . . . I've been dreaming about this for so long, and-" Natsumi put her hands to her cheeks as she blushed furiously. " . . . please love me, Emi-san!"

Emishi felt his heart stop in his chest.

"N-n-natsumi-han!" he sputtered, also turning a becoming shade of crimson. "Are you sure? Do you know what you're asking?" he exploded.

She was smiling unabashedly now and blushing as well. "Shh, Emi-san! You'll wake the neighborhood." She pressed a finger to his lips, and he quieted. "I'm serious." She looked up at him expectantly.

Emishi scratched the back of his head. "Well . . . I think that this might not be a good idea-I don't have any protection with me right now-"

"I've taken care of that!" Natsumi interposed, turning redder, if that were possible. She gazed up at him with her luminous, fathomless eyes shimmering with hope and desire. "Onegai?" And she said it so prettily that Emishi literally heard his resolve crumbling to pieces around him.

Wordlessly, resignedly, he took her hand in hers, and they started down the street together.

Time seemed to speed up for the couple, and before they knew it, they were standing before one another in their hotel room. They stood staring at the floor for long minutes before Natsumi broke the monotony and stepped into his embrace. She unerringly found his mouth with her own in an arduous kiss, and it was easy for Emishi to entangle his fingers in her charcoal gray-black hair and to tilt her head back, deepening the kiss.

As they kissed, Natsumi's hands found their way to Emishi's jacket and wasted no time in pushing the said item of clothing off. Emishi reluctantly broke their contact to shrug his jacket off.

With a playful glance at him, Natsumi slid her fingers underneath his shirt and traced her nails gently upon his chest, eliciting a groan. Emishi stilled her hands and took the initiative of shedding his shirt, tousling his immaculate hair and skewing his shades in the process. As he did so, Natsumi fumbled with his belt, pulling at the buckle and loosing the strip of leather. Next went the jeans, which she had no difficulty with. She was soon pushing his trousers down to his knees, biting her lip in amusement as she saw his yellow plaid boxers.

"What?" he demanded somewhat defensively.

"How . . .cute. How Emi-san," Natsumi said with a small giggle. Emishi gave her a broad grin before stepping out of his shoes, shucking his pants off, and tossing both sneakers and jeans to the pile of discarded clothes.

"You're still clothed," Emishi pointed out teasingly, gesturing to Natsumi's pristine dress. She flushed delicately and nodded.

"Emi-san, could you help me with the zipper?" She presented her to him, and with a surprisingly steady hand, Emishi unzipped her dress and was rather delighted when he glimpsed the graceful curve of her back and the subtle swell of her derriere.

Her back still kept to him, Natsumi shrugged her dress off, leaving her clad in only her modest, virginal white underwear.

Emishi, after sensing that she wasn't quite ready to turn around just yet, coiled an arm around her waist and pressed their almost bare bodies to one another, her back against his chest, top of her head tucked snugly beneath his jaw. She tensed for the briefest of seconds before relaxing in his embrace. Emishi splayed his palm open on her stomach, keeping well away from her "delicate parts," simply allowing her to get used to his touch.

Some time later, when Emishi felt that Natsumi was a little bit more at ease, he slid his hand along her skin, circling from her stomach to her spine and following its upward curve. He stopped just beneath the clasp of her strapless brassiere.

"May I?" he whispered into her ear.

Natsumi nodded her acquiescence.

He gently moved her out of his embrace and turned her around so that she was facing him. With a deft flick of his wrist borne of experience, he made easy work of the lock, and the strip of satin and lace fell to the floor.

Natsumi bit her lip and kept her eyes trained on the floor, awaiting Emishi's verdict.

"Totemo utsukushii," he breathed, and she dared to raise her eyes to his, a hesitant smile playing upon her lips.

"I mean it," he told her honestly, giving her a reassuring smile in return.

Emishi could see that his words allowed her to regain her confidence, and he gave her another kiss.

When he pulled away, Natsumi was glowing with pleasure and anticipation. With a coquettish wink, she immediately went to work on his ridiculously bright underwear, pulling on the waistband and drawing it down to his hips. Emishi looped his fingers into hers and helped her in her pursuits, and they managed to slide his boxers off.

Emishi usually had no qualms when it came to nakedness, as he was a bit of an exhibitionist (in many ways), and as he had a lot of experience with women before. However, standing before Natsumi as she appraised him with her eyes, he felt the same rare shyness settle upon him like a wet blanket. Natsumi seemed to understand what was happening, though, and she gave him a bright grin.

"Sugoi!" she chirped.

And that was enough to stoke his ego, because he knew that she was being sincere.

He traced a finger along the waistband of her own underwear, wordlessly asking for permission, and she granted it by hooking her thumbs into the sides and sliding it off.

They exhaled with relief in unison when the ordeal was over, eliciting a laugh from both.

When they had both sobered somewhat, Natsumi took Emishi's hand and pulled him back to the bed. They tumbled together, landing side by side. She immediately curled into him, sliding her body against his and pressing her lips to his. As he shifted his weight so that he was pressing her down to the mattress, her nimble fingers found his white hair tie and yanked it off, causing his sienna tresses to cascade around them both.

"I love your hair," Natsumi whispered when they pulled away for air. "It's so soft . . . like silk," she murmured, pressing a few strands to her cheek.

Emishi felt warmth bloom inside his chest. "Thank you, Natsumi-han," he said earnestly. He took great pains to tend to his hair, and it was nice to know that it was appreciated.

Her hands drifted to his face, fingertips tracing along his cheekbones, his lips, before creeping back up to his shades. Emishi blinked, realizing that he was silly enough to have kept his shades on the entire time. He hooked his finger along the bridge and pulled them off, then tossed them to the bedside table.

When he turned back to Natsumi, she was gazing at him unabashedly, jaw slightly open, cheeks flushed, breath faster in her chest.

"Your eyes . . . " she breathed. "They're beautiful . . . such a vivid shade of green!"

Emishi smiled embarrassedly, waving it off.

"Honto ni," Natsumi said softly. She entwined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another kiss.

After kissing her severally, Emishi pulled away, silencing her protests with a soft lave of his tongue against the underside of her jaw, promising a wealth of things to come. He drifted to the junction where neck met shoulder and suckled gently, causing her to gasp and to tremble slightly against him. He shivered, his body growing taut with need.

He slid himself down lower, trailing kisses along her collarbone, down to the space between her breasts. She gasped he brushed a finger experimentally upon a turgid nipple. He cupped her breast in one hand and pressed a kiss to the hardened peak before drawing it into his mouth.

Natsumi's fingers clenched feebly in his hair as he took careful suckle, working his tongue along the sensitive bud and coaxing it to stiffness. He gave one last lick before sliding to her other breast, giving it equal treatment.

Finally relinquishing her breasts, Emishi moved even lower, painting a path of kisses to her stomach, his tongue darting into her navel, before sliding even lower . . .

"Emi-san, what're you-" Natsumi gave a gasping cry as Emishi parted her folds and flicked his tongue against the nub of her pleasure. He pressed his mouth against her ardor and worked the small and utterly responsive spot with lips, teeth, and tongue, unrelenting as he took her higher and higher . . .

Emishi felt a spike of male satisfaction bloom in his gut when Natsumi arched her back, whimpering with the force of her climax as it swept through her body. He slid back up and kissed her sated lips, cradling her to his chest as she shuddered with the aftershocks of her release.

"Emi-san, that was . . . " Natsumi mumbled as her body quieted, "wonderful." She sighed in contentment, snuggling against him. Emishi stroked her hair, soothing her with his touch. His own arousal was so potent now that he almost had no strength left, but he didn't want to rush her.

Natsumi slid her leg along his, her thigh brushing against his manhood, causing him to moan involuntarily. She opened her eyes to gaze at him curiously, and she bit her lip when she saw Emishi's discomfort.

"We can stop here, Natsumi-han," Emishi told her gently, although the blood was rushing through his veins and pooling in his groin, leaving him lightheaded. "If you're not ready to go any further, that's fine . . ."

She didn't answer. Instead, she kissed him hotly and pulled him back atop her, spreading her legs beneath him.

Emishi groaned as his manhood brushed against the cradle of her thighs, the sensation sending a bolt of fire shooting from his groin to his extremities. He wanted to bury himself in her then and there, but he stopped himself; it took all of his strength to ask through gritted teeth, "Are you sure?"

Instead of speaking, Natsumi took him into her palm and guided him in.

Emishi clenched his jaw as he slid into her warmth. Each centimeter was tortuous warmth, and each ripple of her muscles sent him closer to the edge. She was so tight, and her heat stoked the pleasure to a blazing inferno.

As he was halfway into her, he came across a barrier-her maidenhead.

"This is going to hurt," he warned her thickly.

Natsumi nodded, and he thrust all the way in, seating himself to the hilt, Natsumi's cry of pain ringing in his ears.

"Gomen nasai!" he apologized as he held himself up by the elbows, shaking above her as he struggled to stay still so that he wouldn't hurt her.

"It's-okay," Natsumi rasped. "It'll go away, right?" And with that, she wiggled her hips experimentally against his.

Emishi surged into her, gasping. "No, don't-hurt you-"

"I'm okay," she told him weakly. "It doesn't hurt anymore . . . " She rocked her hips against his again, and he moaned as the familiar heat uncoiled in his belly with her movements.

"Sure?" He was beginning to be incoherent.

Natsumi nodded, and with a groan of abandon, Emishi began moving within and atop her. In and out. Over and over, he thrust into her. The pleasure spiraled ever higher, flooding his body. Her gasping moans sounded in his ears, further heightening the sensation . . . her hands flexed in his hair, on his sweat-slicked back . . .

"Natsumi-han," he gasped, curling his hands into the pillow beneath her head. She whimpered in response as they moved together, creating that delicious friction. He could feel her sweet warmth tightening around him, clenching and unclenching . . .

Trapped in a world of sensation, Emishi could no longer think as he continued to drive into her. All he knew was the pleasure, building and building, winding up inside . . . the rhythm, the trembling body beneath his . . . She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck and he whimpered, unconsciously quickening his pace as their bodies moved and met.

He was almost there, he could feel it . . . and by the way she was shaking, she was probably hovering before the precipice as well . . .

Through their movements, Emishi slid a hand between their bodies and easily found that spot again. He pressed his fingers to it and gave a light pinch.

Natsumi let out a wail as her pleasure peaked, consuming her whole. She trembled as she came, clinging onto Emishi as she came, long and hard. Her release triggered his own; he pressed his cheek to hers as he shuddered above her and let out a hoarse cry in the throes of his own climax. The scalding pleasure broke over him again and again, the ecstasy closing his throat and knocking the breath from his lungs.

Finally, the waves receded, and Emishi slumped against Natsumi, pressing his forehead to hers and claiming her lips in a languid, unhurried kiss.

"Daijobu desu ka?" Emishi asked softly, forcefully battling the lethargy that was rapidly threatening to overcome him.

"Hai," came her contented answer.

"Yokata."

Both of them whimpered as he pulled out. Emishi pulled out the covers from beneath them by sheer will and tucked Natsumi in, settling beside her. She snuggled up to him comfortably, tangling her legs with his and slipping her head beneath his chin.

"Oyasumi nasai, Emi-san," she yawned. "Suki yo." A content smile settled upon her lips as she fell into slumber.

Emishi smiled tenderly, stroking her cheek. "Ohayo gozaimasu, Natsumi-han. Suki yo." And he drifted off to sleep as well.

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I know that they're still being awfully formal with one another (considering that they're still using honorifics), but I feel that that's apt for now.

That's it for now. More to come soon. ^_~

Ja ne! ^_^