The biggest problem with Tsukihime is how unrealistic it is and how Shiki is so weak and doesn't tell us what he wants doesn't take what he wants doesn't know what he wants etc. I am trying to write something more realistic. I hope this will be better than Nasu.

I don't own anything. If anyone wants this story they can claim it, but please first ask me OK?

I wake up today. I leave my house. Today is my last night at my house. My bags I don't take to school, they go to my new home.

School is far away. But it is not so far away that it conjures up endless dread.

At school I see strange girl with blue hair. She has medium sized boobs. I want to touch them, but she holds sharp sticks. My mental advances towards her is tickling at the midriffs of her mind, but she incomprehensibly stagnates at the sticks.

Naught to do but to proceed into the school. The school is boring, my friend Arihiko is boring. There is Sa- girl, but she is boring too. Very square, not like blue girl.

I go home, new home, which is different from old home. New home is massiver and higher up geographically, or at least topographically.

I see maid. Maid has medium size boobs. I touch medium size boobs (because she is maid and I am new master).

"Shiki-sama?" applicable

"Yes, tis I, Shiki-sama, home at last from my arduous journey, the path up the hill is many acres too hilly for human habitation, it must be reduced at the soonest possible moment, I think. Else how can one get a modicum of rest from lactic acid."

She tries to run away. (She is Japanese even though she has pink hair, so she possesses close minded).

I chase her into the house. It was loud. She is screaming. I am not screaming, but chasing. I decide maid is square too. I think I like square now.

I trap her inside a room. The room is empty, devoid of all impressionable objects, as well as any empyrean qualities. Only she is inside, she is human. She is not empyrean.

I say. "I want to touch your boobs. You should let me if you know what is good for you."

She assists, and she say, "I want to know if you love me."

I feel myself falling in love with a girl who is careful enough to ask if a man loves her before letting him touch her boobs.

I tell her, "My love for you is like the eternal spring, it lasts forever just like spring."

She says, "OK, I believe you. You are full of love for me, there is none in your heart you hold dearer, our empyrean bond forged in the adventures of the chase up the stairs will hold steady throughout the travails of young age to old age and to even beyond age, when man has forgotten age and embraced the age of no age. Tis is the strength of our love and our love will hold true forever, and may we cherish that through the act of your placing the macron of your strength on my bosom, and may our love blossom as an example to the world at large forevermore."

It was so. The world is impressed (everyone is easily impressed).

My hands are on her breasts. Her breasts are shaped in such a way to resemble female chests.

Her cries commingle with the flashing brilliance of my eyes as they pierce their way into her hearts of hearts and strike her where she is most vulnerable and exposed to hot flashes of histrionic emotionalism. (Nasu forgets that women are emotional. He makes women sound like men.)

Holding her weakness in my hands, I say.

"I ask of you, are you my new servant."

This is a test, new masters test their servants. That is what the British do. Whatever the British does is cultured. If she lies I will expose her crimes. Then I will keep the lie as blackmail. (This is an observation of Japanese culture that can only be made by outsiders and sociologists).

"Ahh ahh! I am in such grandiloquent pleasure!" That was all she said.

Her pleasure was paramount, but there is no doubt her answer was prevarication. Prevarication is like lying. So similar as to be synonyms. (In this case.)

But first I need proof.

I grasp her breasts tightly and dig my finger nails into the soft flesh. I twist and squeeze with all my might. She screams in pleasurable delight. It is high pitched. "AHHHHHHH!! EAAHIAHH!!"

Proof presents itself.

The door bursts open. A second maid. Her hair is the same color. She looks less square. More septuagenarian.

"I ask of you, is she a servant?"

The other maid sees the first maid's exposed breasts. She does not get the idea and does not expose her own breasts. I judge them to be poorly sized. But they have mediocre size. She nods in response to my question.

Even though the second maid is disobeying my implied orders, I am also relieved. If she exposes her breasts there would be double the number of female breasts to male hands. I do not want to take off my shoes yet. This is a western mansion, westerners wear shoes indoors. It is important to act as a westerner inside a western mansion, and this etiquette extends to the matter of not taking off one's shoes. Additionally, my feet are not very prehensile.

I also have proof of prevarication.

"AHHHHHHH!! EAAHIAHH!!"

The first servant is still screaming. Her pleasure is raising the roof. (Nasu does not understand how important it is to firmly and strongly dig ones' hands into the female breast. Hence his sex scenes are not very realistic.)

I decide that pleasure is an unapt punishment for a lying maid. I stop. Her breasts are now rightly deformed, and twisted. Red marks appear at intervals along the steep surface of her chest-skins, if her breasts were a face, her breasts would be blushing. But breasts are perhaps more like a strobe light, and this strobe like is ON.

Tears stream down her face. I don't want to lick them. But take her face and scrape them on the side of the bed. The sheets now have her tears on them. I might change my mind about licking it later.

Suddenly another girl bursts in.

She looks. Her mouth hangs open, her eyes raise. Her cheeks color with righteous fury. But I think back to the experience with the red breasts, if they are red then it must mean they are aroused.

The new girl's cheeks are aroused. Her face cheeks.