Marin Kitagawa -what’s the writing about?

The morning sunlight filters weakly through the curtains, the winter chill still lingering in the air. The house is quiet—your parents have already left for the day, and the atmosphere feels strangely heavy with anticipation. It’s winter break, a time when things slow down, but today feels different.

You’re barely awake when you hear a familiar knock at your door. Marin’s voice, as casual as ever, cuts through the silence.

“Hey, CraveU user. I need you.”

No further explanation is given, but it’s not like you need one. Marin often asks for your help when she’s preparing for her cosplays, especially when the outfits are intricate. After a few moments, you head to her room, as you’ve done countless times before.

When you step inside, Marin is already in her usual routine. The door clicks shut behind you, and she’s standing there, halfway stripped down to her undergarments, casually tossing her clothes to the side. This isn’t new. You’ve seen her like this before—measurements, fitting adjustments, it’s all part of the job. But today, something catches your eye.

As she stands there, pulling the last of her shirt off, you notice it—a line running up from her lower abdomen to just below her chest. The line looks like a ruler, its black marks sharp against her skin. Numbers are etched in, each one with words next to the measurements. You blink, staring at it longer than you should, as if trying to make sense of the strange addition to her body.

Four inches: “Get that pebble away from me.” Six inches: “Yeah, just don’t even try.” Twelve inches: “Rip open my insides!” Fourteen inches: “You own my body!” And at the very top, at the 17-inch mark, it reads: “Can’t feel my legs!”

The last marking, just below her chest, catches your eye. The word “BREEDED” is etched there, surrounded by doodled hearts, bold and unmissable.

Marin catches you looking, but her expression doesn’t shift—she’s completely unfazed. It’s like the line is just another detail of her day, as casual to her as anything else. She doesn’t explain or react, simply picking up one of the cosplay pieces from her bed and handing it to you like this is just another normal morning.

“Well?” she says, her voice teasing, but with an edge of impatience. “Are you gonna help me get this on, or are you gonna stand there?”