The story so far:

Prolog – Mayumi Osaka finds herself in a horrific situation while on a pleasure ride aboard a multimillionaire's yacht.

Chapter I, Subpar – Serena resolves to win the love of someone she admires by altering herself.

Chapter II, Calamity – The wellbeing of Naru's mother, Mayumi, is called into question when her cruise vacation is cut short by a sudden epidemic aboard a luxury liner.

Chapter III, Tryst – Serena's unusual morning ends off with meeting a strange girl and a controversial item in her possession.

Chapter IV, Friction – An interesting item catches Serena's attention at a boutique, and later, she finds herself heatedly defending her contentious decision to take drastic means to change her appearance.

Chapter V, Outsider – Serena cuts class to satisfy a curiosity but instead finds herself wondering how she appears in the eyes of others.

Chapter VI, Reveiller – A disturbing wakeup call has Serena rushing to Naru's house at 3 AM, ending in unspeakable tragedy.

Chapter VII, Fragments – Serena is tormented by her actions and struggles to come to terms with her guilt.

Chapter VIII, Encounter – Serena sees Naru for the first time after the fateful night when their lives changed forever.

MARIONETTES

Part I: Disingenuous

- IX -

Pressure

Her vision was a blurred mess of hot tears. The pale moonlight that filtered through the window streaked across her watery eyes; the objects within her view masked by a distortive halation that engulfed everything. She was thankful she could scarcely make out the details of the bile at the bottom of the container in front of her, though the pungent smell was unavoidable. Stretched to capacity, her stomach's innumerable contortions had not been able to quell the stirrings of the malcontentment which had been fermenting inside her. Serena desperately wanted to get away from the foul odour, but her trembling hands were locked white-knuckle tight onto the rim of the garbage can. Its sturdy plastic frame supported the weight of her upper body, despite the frailness of her arms. Even on her knees, she still feared tipping over as her feeble limbs were barely able to accomplish the rudimentary task. Covered in a cold sweat, loose strands of hair messily stuck to her face, she was thankful that no one could see her like this. Somehow, she had managed to make it to the privacy of her own room and not retch in front of her entire family. She hoped they were all sound asleep and their ears deaf to the repulsive sounds of her vomiting.

How many … is that … now? She had lost count how many separate upheavals she had. Worse yet, she could feel that her stomach had not yet fully emptied itself of misgivings; Serena knew the lull she was experiencing was just in the eye of the sickening storm. The respite was long enough for her to take in a few breaths and spit. Her thick saliva globbed into an ugly teardrop on a string, which danced over the rest of the stomach fluids that now filled the stinking waste receptacle.

As she quivered in the blackness, another painful spasm suddenly ripped through her insides. She wanted to be strong of body and mind, but the burning sensation she felt searing her esophagus as it travelled upward from her gut and completely overpowered all of her attempts to remain composed. As the fiery sensation curved around the back of her throat, her mouth instinctively opened, just as her watery eyes automatically sealed themselves shut once more. She wished she could also have closed her nose to prevent taking in the foul acidic smell, but she desperately needed the air in between upheavals, which left her out of breath each time.

Make … it … stop. She found herself praying for relief.

Serena's muscles relaxed for only a brief moment before another nauseating wave coursed through her. Just when she thought the vomiting was over, she violently heaved yet again, and the bile fell into her garbage can to the sound of stomach-churning 'plops,' which had grown more revoltingly liquidy as she reluctantly filled the container in between short, exasperated breaths.

After some frantic coughing, it seemed that, finally, her stomach seemed satisfied with its expulsion of contents. A great weakness suddenly overcame her. Her battered body shuddered uncontrollably and she was quickly aware of how incredibly cold she had become, despite that the warmness of the night and that she had not undressed since returning from the hospital. Like some lumbering sot, Serena used the back of her hand to uncouthly clean up the salty tears that streaked her cheeks and the mix of saliva and bile that splotched the sides of her mouth. She had no energy left to care about how unmannerly or unhygienic it might have been. Drained of spirit, she feebly crawled to her bed on all fours and slunk under her sheets. Serena tossed them over her head, which was her half-hearted attempt to contend with the smell that emanated from the garbage can that she was too lethargic to properly clean out.

Regrettably, she did not feel any better; vomiting had expelled whatever little food was in her stomach, but it had not done anything to dispatch the anxiety that had ravaged her insides in the first place. She felt every bit as fearful and anxious as she had ever since leaving Naru. She restlessly tossed and turned in her cocoon during the most worrisome night of her life. Sleep was light and fleeting, interrupted by numbness, aches and disturbing dreams... and pink. Always that colour. Sometimes, she would be bleeding for no reason in her dreams. Other times, in desperation for catharsis, she would violently cut into herself to let it out. However, it was all the same - pink blood poured out uncontrollably until the vibrant fluid collected into fluorescent pools on the floor, marking and staining the ground as much as her body.

Despite the deplorable night, Serena somehow still managed to make her way to school the next day, nerves frayed and sleep deprived. Her parents had been forgiving during the previous day, but that was the limit to their generosity. She had awoken to the unforgiving sound of her mother's pounding on her bedroom door, which had echoed into a tremendous boom in her ears. At the very least, her mom had not stepped into the room to witness what had transpired the night before - she would certainly have asked many questions. Too many questions. The numbness that dulled Serena's perception also stifled her ability to think clearly; she would not have been able to contend with such a barrage.

Period after period, much to the dismay of her teachers, Serena struggled to keep her head upright. Her face was desensitized and her senses were off; her body had turned against her and her organs were out of sync. There was a persistent, dizzying whir in her head, which worsened every time she snapped her head up in an attempt to not fall asleep at her desk. The slightest of noises were amplified into loud and jarring cacophony; a dropped pencil, the scribbling sound of note taking on a page, a daft whisper - they were all too deafening. Her sense of touch was hampered by what she could only equate to as lag when playing an online game. It took seconds for her to register touching anything… and even then, something still did not quite feel right. Her stomach was tied in a painful knot, and she felt both extremely hungry but repulsed by food - not that she had forgotten about her diet. Her pills had gone down painfully, even more so than after her first day's fast. It did not matter that she had thrown up last night - she still had a target weight to reach. More importantly, she needed the boost from the pills to get through the day. Yet, not even the strong dose of caffeine and whatever else was in them were enough to keep her alert. As none of her teachers had high expectations for her, they had all been content to simply ignore her somnambulism - which, admittedly, probably did not seem that far away from her usual state. Still, the fatigue and aches were unbearable. The periods after lunch lurched slowly, though perhaps that was best. She was in no rush to leave school, for she would have to attend the ceremonies for Mayumi Osaka later on in the day - if she survived. Perhaps crazed Mayumi would get what she had wanted after all.

Serena wanted the discord between her senses to end, just as much as she sorely wished for an end to the anaesthetizing tedium of the day's lessons. Yet, when deliverance from the latter came partway through last period, her heart felt as though it would rip out of her chest. Her level of alertness was suddenly no longer an issue when her presence was requested in the office.

"She's on her way now," Ms. Akiyama responded to the announcement over the PA system. All eyes fell upon Serena, whose departure seemed necessary before the lesson could continue. Slowly, she rose and left the room as fast as her aching legs would take her. The way her classmates all looked at her as she headed for the door was unnerving, as though they all knew her secret but were keeping quiet while they waited for a higher authority to deal with her.

Serena closed the plain brown door behind her and leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply. Anxiety had tightened her chest, causing her to inadvertently hold her breath while leaving the classroom. She was now on the precipice of hyperventilating once again. At least there were no eyes on her out in the hall as her composure began to crumble. At least, this time there was no brother or parents from which to hide the irregular breathing. There was no immediate rush to reach the office, and she clearly needed time to recompose herself. She placed her hands over her diaphragm in an attempt to soothe it with a light massage. She wanted to make the pain subside completely, but she feared the risk of taking too long to reach her destination - Ms. Akiyama had already sent other students to retrieve her once before; she would not hesitate in sending sentries a second time to escort the repeat offender. It would be best if she made it to the office on her own, and so she slowly peeled herself off the wall and began to make her way. Every step toward the office intensified the pain that seemed intent on exploding her chest apart. Slowing her pace did nothing to slow her racing heart, however, and partway to her destination, despite her intentions to arrive unescorted and unassisted, she found herself resting her hand on the wall for support. Without it, she would likely have collapsed when she turned the corner and saw the same two police officers who had shown up at the hospital last night.

Naru said something.

The panic she felt bore a searing hole in her sternum, but even then, it did not assuage the intense pressure in her chest like some sort of morbid volcano. That would have been a sight - her innards plastered across the walls of her school. Perhaps her dreams of a deluge of pink had just been a harbinger of this event. She stood there for a moment, waiting to be ripped apart, but the fuse set to ignite the charge seemed intent on continuing its slow burn instead. Biding her time, Serena watched as the two detectives talked between themselves in front of the office administrator's desk. They were inside the school's office, which had pony walls all around its periphery and gigantic glass panes mounted on top of them. Serena had often suspected the walls were designed that way as a form of public shaming - any casual passerby could see a trouble-maker waiting for their appointment with the headmaster as they waited on the bench outside his office. She had felt that judgemental castigation on her previous visits. One of the officers spotted her in the hallway and motioned to the other. No doubt, she had her blonde hair to thank for being so conspicuous.

If there was ever a moment in her life that she wanted to run away from a situation, it paled in comparison to the desire to do so now; neither seeing gaunt, lifeless Naru nor being beaten senseless by Mayumi seemed to compare. Fleeing now would connote her guilt, and so she had no choice but to march onward, her legs becoming increasingly more like rubber as she reluctantly approached the two men. An awkwardly long, final step forward closed the distance to the glass door, Serena desperately reaching out to keep herself up by using the door knob as support. Against the cool chrome fixture, she realized how extremely hot she had become, her palms drenched with apprehensive sweat. The knob slid under her hand, but she eventually wrestled it open. A sense of déjà vu fell over her as a snippet of her morbid dream replayed in her mind. Serena felt stupid for checking her palm to make sure there was no blood nor shards of glass this time, but dreams and reality were becoming increasingly harder to distinguish as of late.

The headmaster of the school, Mr. Takara, crept out of his office just as Serena opened the door. He was a short and wrinkly elderly man ready for retirement, who had a penchant for wearing suits too big for his diminutive stature. Despite his somewhat comical appearance, the students of Azabu-Juuban High School knew to steer clear of his volatile temper, as he was not one to shy away from transgressing the rules of propriety when it came to unleashing his anger toward problematic students. Serena had feared ending up in the sights of his wrath early on after her transfer, and her worries had been quick to materialize when he called her into his office to reproach her for bleaching her hair. 'Unlike your previous school, we adhere to rules here,' he had stated, and pompously cited his own generosity when he granted Serena until the start of the next semester to return her hair to its natural colour. This situation paled in comparison to that slap on the wrist, however; she never imagined that she would be called in under these surreal circumstances.

Mr. Takara began by politely introducing the officers from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. "Sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting outside while I took care of that phone call. Confidential. You understand." Neither of them seemed bothered by the gesture. Serena observed that both of them wore suits identical to the ones they had worn last night. She wondered whether they had worked through the entire night and if they had slept in their offices, not bothering to go home to change. Toshio still managed to look handsome, though, and Serena found herself once again thinking about his similarity to Motoki.

"Hi," she said timidly, not even acknowledging their brief rendezvous from the previous night as she followed the headmaster's motion to step into his office. After they were all in, he closed the richly lacquered door behind him and now Serena felt utterly trapped. The transparent walls of the exterior office were suddenly much more appealing than this inner office, with everything hidden from view by its pale brown walls and bookcases filled with binders, books, awards and degrees.

Fear coursed throughout her entire body. No doubt, in a few minutes, she would be shamefully escorted off the premises in handcuffs, with students and staff alike shocked and appalled at the sight. Everyone knew Serena was an underachiever, but they would all be surprised to learn she was a dangerous delinquent, too - and not just any petty vandal or drug peddler either, but a murderer. 'She was such a nice girl. Always quiet and kept to herself,' they'll say. That's how those stories usually start...

"These men are here to help your friend," Mr. Takara said as he made his way around his large, imposing desk. He directed Serena to sit directly across from him, as he had done when he called her in to discuss her hair. The detectives pulled up a chair on either side of Serena, putting her in a vice. It looked like they were ready to squeeze the last bit of information they needed.

The headmaster was the last to take his seat, a deep leather chair with a button-tufted backrest. It was dark brown, like much of the furniture in the room. It was all very stately and becoming of a person in a position of authority. "These detectives have some questions they would like to ask you. I've requested it be done with my supervision."

Is that even allowed? I know I'm a minor, but... Not one to be confrontational, especially when attempting to hide culpability, Serena refrained from voicing her concerns. "Okay," she timidly replied, keeping her discomfort to herself. She was utterly unsure of her rights in this situation and did not know whether her parents had to be present too - not that she would want them to witness their daughter's impending incarceration. Maybe they gave them their consent already? All Serena knew was that in the room, seated between the three men, she held neither sway nor authority. She felt completely stripped of any power. Only her usual role remained; the part of a meek, little mouse. Whatever fire had lit up inside her out on the streets when she stood up for Kaguya - and how strongly she regretted that now - had been utterly extinguished. Not even a dormant ember that could be coaxed into igniting remained in the ashes.

"We're hoping we can have your co-operation in our investigation, Serena." It sounded strange to hear them say her name. How much else did they already know beyond that?

"Yeah, sure... I will. Help, I mean," she stammered apprehensively. "I'll help your investigation," Serena struggled to string together a coherent sentence, feeling as though everything she was doing - the very minutiae of her responses - were being dissected for analysis. Some detectives are trained to do just that - looking for signs of guilt in body language. Her response had sounded odd, even to her own ears. "I'm sorry. I'm... a little… nervous," she apologized, trying not to stare too obviously at the miniature notepad that Toshio had withdrawn from his inner breast pocket. Her clasped hands just dug deeper into her lap as she gazed downward.

"That's quite alright," Toshio's partner tried to ease the worried teen. Twice he had introduced himself and twice she had missed his name. "Just take a deep breath and relax." The older detective's words had the opposite effect, however, and only further constricted Serena's airways. She was sure she was blushing from the heat in her chest. The first bead of sweat trailed down her temple, but she dared not draw attention to it by wiping it away.

"Naru's memory of the night is very fragmented-"

"-we're hoping you can clarify some details for us," Toshio finished his partner's sentence. They were in lockstep, just like detectives on TV.

In the shows, they always catch the perp.

"But I wasn't there," Serena declared almost preemptively. Or had Naru remembered something and given a different account, which they were using as a trap? Two different stories? That would seem very suspicious. 'Were you there or were you not, Serena?' she could imagine them asking forcefully, their tones suggesting she was hiding something - which she clearly was. Guarding her reprehensible secret at any cost was paramount.

"You may not have been there," Toshio said calmly, a huge relief fell over Serena at hearing those words, "but you did speak to Naru shortly before she called 119 just past 3AM, the night in question."

Oh, shit! They do know. Were they playing dumb and fishing for a confession?

"What did she say to you that night?" Toshio's partner leaned in, ready to jot down her response on his own notepad.

"Um... her mom. She was... acting… strange."

Sound more confident if you don't want to go to jail, stupid, advised the cold, distant voice in her head, its harshness not mitigated in the slightest by its remoteness. Despite being helpful, it was still unpleasant. Serena's throat had turned as coarse as sandpaper, yet she forced a painful swallow. Thankfully, forcing down small bits of food after long fasts had gotten her somewhat accustomed to this abrasive sensation.

"She called to say her mom was acting strange," Serena restated more coherently.

"How so?"

"She was… throwing things… saying nonsense. Yelling." She cleared her throat.

"Mayumi was throwing things?" Toshio's partner raised his eye off his miniature notepad.

"Yes."

"Did you hear anything to confirm this?"

Serena knew full well that it was a crime to mislead the police. However, the only alternative was tantamount to sticking her hands out to be cuffed. Lying was the lesser crime, provided she did not get caught. "No, I didn't hear anything," Serena lied. I sure hope this is what Naru told them...

"Nothing at all?"

Serena expected they would try to pressure answers out of her. She would have to stave them off without arousing their suspicion. "No. She put down her phone or covered it up a few times. Everything… became muffled." That's not too far from the truth. Serena recalled how her heart had jumped when Naru stopped responding on the phone.

"What did you say to your friend, then?"

"To call the cops." Another truth. It grazed her lips awkwardly, after so many lies to her family and classmates.

"Did Naru mention anything about an intruder?"

Time to play the fool.

"No. Why?"

The officers looked at each other silently for a moment. Toshio and his partner exchanged nods. One of them finally spoke, slowly crafting each word. "We have a strong reason to believe Mayumi Osaka was murdered."

Yeah. Decapitation. That was my doing.

"Murdered?" Serena echoed, feigning ignorance. She looked at the men with false astonishment, hoping her acting was enough to convince them. The school's headmaster, remained unmoved by the revelation. He could be remarkably stoic and unreadable, which made his explosive ire all that much more frightful and unpredictable. "Naru's doctor accidentally mentioned that a homicide investigation was underway, but I didn't believe him. All these days, we thought it was the wither. Naru's mom had been on that cruise - you know, the one that went missing at sea." Her statement was not a complete lie; everybody else in her family had thought that - she had simply grouped herself along with them.

"Ms. Osaka was indeed found in an advanced state of the wither, which we do believe she contracted during her stay on the luxury cruise she attended just prior to this incident," Toshio's partner spoke solemnly. "We're still not sure why there were no signs when she passed through quarantine."

"No one yet knows how this virus works exactly. It might have very well contributed to the unusual behaviour Naru reported about her mother."

"What about… the killer?" Serena asked shyly. Somehow, she had worked up the courage to ask a question, entirely fearful of the response, but in need of relief from the unrelenting worry that weighed heavily on her. All she really hoped was they would reveal something - anything - that would indicate they were not looking into her as a suspect.

Toshio leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone. "While we can't make specific comments, suffice it to say that there was evidence of forced entry. We believe Ms. Osaka's death may have been a home robbery turned sour."

A robbery? Serena fought back a dark grin. They're not onto me at all! The knot in her stomach eased up, if only a little.

"Regrettably, we still have no definitive leads," Toshio offered up. "That's why we need your help."

"Yes. Anything you remember about that night might very well give us what we need to catch our suspect."

"Of course. Anything I can do to help," Serena bit the inside of her cheeks and her lower lip to hide a perverse smile. This was the first time she had sensed joy in days. She hated having to bottle it up - she had so little to be joyous about as of late. Maybe she could delight in it once outside the company of the detectives and headmaster...

Serena was relieved, her tenseness finally relaxing. Her muscles had constricted and relaxed so many times in the last few minutes, she was worried they would ask her if she were having a spasm. It had been incredibly fortunate that Kaguya had told her to stuff her hands into the sleeves of her sweater before prying open the window, which would likely have left behind incriminating fingerprints. However, that had been after she had inadvertently left two crescent moon shaped marks on the upper part of the window, which might still prove a problem for her later. Were those unique like fingerprints? She was not sure. In her defense, at that point she did not yet know she was about to be tricked into committing a crime. Otherwise, she would have been more careful.

Was there anything else that might point their attention toward her? As she carefully replayed the events of that night, the repressed smile disappeared from the inside of her mouth. When exiting the Osaka property, she had a hard landing on the soft grass outside the residence. There was not much she could have done about it then - the jump down from the lowest branch of the tree adjacent to Naru's room was at least two metres. Had she left an impression there? Could they somehow use it to determine their suspect's shoe size and work backwards from there?

"We're still meticulously analyzing items retrieved from the crime scene. We're confident we'll find a lead amongst them." Toshio's words interrupted her wayward thoughts. How much of the conversation she had missed, she was not sure.

What could the possibly find in Naru's room? She had not touched much. She did not bring anything with her thus could not have left anything behind… unless it had been something that was already there in the first place. It was then that a frightening revelation dawned on Serena. Her muscles seized again and for a moment she felt as though her bladder would empty its contents for the three men to see. It would be an utter embarrassment that would leave them wondering if she would be turning seven instead of seventeen. The joy she had bottled up for later had turned to dust inside its vessel, its lifespan remarkably short. This new world Serena lived in would simply not grant her reprieve.

The tiara!

She had not thought about the item - the murder weapon - since it had left her fingertips that night.

I held it. My blood's on it!

She recalled the painful sensation of when it had deeply dug into her, leaving cuts in her palm. The item could very well be cataloged and waiting for examination at a forensic lab somewhere. The very thought tightened Serena's chest. This would be an awful time to start hyperventilating. I killed someone and I didn't even hide the most important piece of evidence! she criticized herself for the oversight, resisting the urge to raise her hands to her face in incredulity.

You really fucked this one up, the harsh voice in her head delighted in Serena's suffering. They're going to get you now.

The teen willed away the voice once more, but the point still stuck. This is it, she reasoned, they were going to close in on her, knowing she had been providing false testimony all along.

They're just here to see if Cinderella's shoe fits...

… but instead, the detectives asked a few more seemingly benign questions, including a few about men Mayumi might have been seeing. Serena had little to contribute even if she had wanted to be forthcoming. Although nothing they asked seemed to directly implicate her in any way, the undisclosed whereabouts of the tiara worried her deeply. It was not like she could ask about such a specific item… It appeared as though she was free… for now, at least.

Toshio gave Serena his business card. She looked at the plain white card with his contact information. The only embellishment on it was the golden, star-shaped emblem of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, which adorned its upper left corner. Never did she imagine that its simplistic design would incite so much apprehension in her. A star was supposed to be a pretty, far-off thing to wish upon, not a sword of Damocles. Serena looked back up at the detective, who explicitly instructed that she should notify him if she remembered any additional details concerning the night in question. She nodded in false gesture, knowing she would do nothing of the sort.

Meanwhile, Toshio's partner handed his business card to Mr. Takara. He leaned toward the elderly headmaster, but spoke no softer than he had before. "Teenagers often know more than they care to let on," he commented. Serena could not discern whether the remark was directed at her specifically or her age group in general. The ambiguity did nothing to assuage her fears that they had not believed her story outright. Evidently, she had not completely convinced them with her statements. She could not afford their suspicion. The comment did not sit well with her.

The two detectives bowed at the headmaster and thanked him for his time. Neither of them extended those same pleasantries to Serena before firmly closing the solid door behind them. Her lowly position merited no special treatment, evidently.

Serena got up off the seat, sensing that she was now free to go. Her seifuku stuck to the leather chair on account of her perspiration, which had kicked into overdrive early on in the interview. She wiped away the sweat from her brow, which she had been too self-conscious to remove earlier. As she did so, she noticed how her legs still felt weak, as though she had run a marathon. She disliked not having control over her body's reactions. She felt strange all over, as though she was inhabiting another person's body.

Although the interview was over, fear and dread still wormed their way through her. Had they been like her - had they not let on to their knowledge of incriminating evidence? It had been several days since the murder. Surely, they had thoroughly combed the house for evidence to build a case. How long would she remain one proverbial step ahead of the authorities?

"Serena," the headmaster interrupted her worrying, speaking to her from behind his desk. His disapproving tone was apparent even in the way he had said her name. "I've been headmaster long enough to know the truth of what they said there at the very end. Teenagers like to talk. Teenage girls especially." While the detectives had been ambiguous and polite, Mr. Takara was more direct. She was not sure that she liked that any better. "If you know something, say it," he ordered. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted a confession, but to Serena's great relief, he started again. "Tattletale, snitch, squealer... Doesn't matter what others will call you. These men are here to help. Don't forget that. They want to catch whoever committed this heinous crime. Anything you hear, however insignificant, may go a long way in apprehending the scumbag who is responsible."

A simple nod was Serena's only response to the strongly-worded command. Yet another false gesture. She politely excused herself and made her way toward the door, hoping the sweat on her uniform was not noticeable. As she opened the heavy door, the headmaster shot out a final reminder to her from his desk. "Remember, snitching is not a crime - murder is."

There was nothing she could do but nod once more, though this time she knew he was right. The factual remark tore her apart on the inside. The weight of those words heaped onto the pile of criticism unknowingly started by her parents. It would likely not be the last denunciation; others were sure to add theirs, too, coalescing into a glob of barbed words which sought to crush her. As she struggled against the increasing weight of the criticisms, their spikes stubbornly dug deeper, transmogrifying her mundane frame into that of a perverted, wobbly-legged Atlas. Her legs already buckling, she hoped she would be strong enough to withstand the immense weight of everyone's collective condemnation.

A.N. – Sorry for the obscenely long wait between chapters! Lots of life changes in between – including a trip to Japan (which included stopping at Minato and Azabu-Juuban!). One more chapter to go! Either way - loved it? Hated it? Doesn't matter! Please leave a comment! (It goes a long way to keep me motivated!) Thanks! ^_^

I respond to most comments and all PMs … but it just takes me a while! Bear with me.