"Are wewe finished yet, Nanao-chan?"

Nanao looked down at the ridiculously tall stack of paper her captain was supposed to be signing.

"Not yet, Captain, I'm still forging your signature on this report."

Sarcasm and disapproval dripped from her words.

"Oh, good."

Nanao cast a look at the book lying on the desk. Was whacking him with it worth the effort? It never seemed to do him any good, though it did do wonders for her temper. She contemplated the thick tome. Then she stifled a yell.

Her bookmark was missing.

She ran her fingers along the edges of the pages, searching from the slight ridge that indicated...

His name's Kurosaki Ichigo. He thinks I'm a "pervert."

Who's not to be curious at such a young age? I've been told once that curiosity's a healthy concept for the mind, and so, I stuck to it. I found myself exploring new things, and I strangely found myself liking them. New exploits, new tastes, new fashion—I always try to revamp my daily experience kwa adding a twist to it. That's one definition of "curiosity." But the other definition? Kurosaki scorns me for it. He's got no imagination, that bastard.

When our group broke up after the Winter War—Shinji, Rose, Kensei, and unconditionally,...