<strong>Mayu</strong><br/><br/>"She isn't my friend.  She doesn't even<em>like</em>me," is the sad whispersoft answer that somehow echoes in your ears as you break free of the daydream...which proves a little more difficult than it should for some reason.  Odd.  Normally it'd be as easy as blinking and as natural as breathing, but there's something about the Yatskaya's dreamscape that seems a bit harder to shape.  Probably just the distraction of seeing yourself getting...why would someone try to fit an entire fist there, for crying out loud?  That would hurt!  But the dreamself in question certainly wasn't complaining about what Shokyou was doing to her...ugh.  This was going to take some serious brain bleach to suppress!  Utterly distracting otherwise.<br/><br/>IF that wasn't bad enough, you can feel a novel, unexpected gnawing hunger and heat in your belly and your nipples are stiff to the point of aching. Most fortunate that there is nobody else in the workshop right now!<br/><br/>Perhaps peeping in on the Troublemaker's dreams was<em>not</em>the wisest path through the decision tree of life.<br/><br/>But now you have to decide what to do about it.  How to move forward.  How to handle the girl the next time your paths cross, as they must.<br/><br/>A retreat to your hidden room might be the best.  Yes, that would be good.  A brief rest away from the temptations of nubile female flesh and the ridiculous emotions of a lovestruck teenager discovering her own deviance in such...uhm...right.  Not thinking about this any more.  Too much to do.  Right?