Disclaimer – I do not own Yumeiro Patissiere.
One could hear the steady scribbling of the pen, the steady pouring out of her thoughts, her dreams. She wasn't just good at being a patisserie, but she was also good at writing a good, lovely story. She happened to have loved the little story that she had written. Her journal was a perfect place to keep her thoughts, and her little stories.
One of the stories read…
"Miya, Miya…" I heard the voice resonating within my heart. I wanted to hear it more and more, and let it feel my ears. I could hear Makoto's voice, soft and translucent, and I turned, to see his skin glowing ethereally. I could not help but push out my lush lips, in hope of that long awaited kiss. He had left them chase, as he felt that we both needed to be older first.
This to me was something that I couldn't help but fall in love with, that he was a complete gentleman, and that he stood his ground. I wished to beg him though, now that we were finally married, to not just kiss my chaste lips, but to take my chaste body and make love to it. I needed him to breathe me in. I needed him to touch those sensitive areas.
Miya reread her perfect little story quite a few times, twisting her pen in her finger. She felt that it embodied the true spirit of what she and Makoto stood for. She had written more, much more, and it delighted her that this was something that Ichigo couldn't possibly do, not even in the slightest capacity. She had heard of the girl's poor grades in her other classes.
"Kashino Miya…" she sighed to herself. "Father would most definitely approve. He's so handsome, and his chocolate skills are fit for this company. It is a match made in heaven. She went on to read another piece that she had written.
I, Princess Miya, watch as the treacherous wretch is taken from the jail cell. I ask her…"Why is it that you put that evil spell upon the three Princes!"
"I came according to Sir Henri's wishes, to make it so that the realm of sweetness shall perish," the ugly girl stated, hissing and snarling at me.
"Come now… I thought that Henri Lucus was a hero… why would he do that… and you truthfully have no talent for magic, as I have already broken your spell. I've also broken your spell over Lady Mari Tennouji. The fact that you used her, and wiled her way into her good graces is unforgivable!"
Of course, now came the sentencing. Beheading… she wouldn't learn her lesson from that. I'll have her eat the worst tasting foods that I can concoct.
"You so wish, you fraud, that you could actually compare to me," the girl muttered, moving onto yet another one of her stories.
Mokoto… I begged for him to take me, to make me his. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to come at me. He threw me onto his bed, and then began to pull on my clothing. One button of my blouse snapped off, then another, and another. He reached behind my back, and unfastened my bra, and pulled it away from my arms, so it draped around my mid section.
My whole upper body was naked, my chaste breasts male in the moonlight. I shook, with anticipation, waiting for him to start. He took his tongue, and touched the tip of one of my sensitive areas, causing shivers to run down my spine. My purity, it was flowing from me, into him, and my arousal was growing. I was hoping he would take me, take me all the way.
"You are in heat, are you not…" he suddenly chimed in, his voice melodic, and serene, and angel from heaven… he could be nothing else.
"I am…" I stated.
"Then prepare to bare me a child…" he stated, and forced himself on me, impregnating me with his touch. There was no pain, only an electrical feeling of excitement, that chilled my body, making me wish for more."
Miya looked at this, and licked her lips. She then turned to what was one of her best works. This was even tastier then the last, and she wanted him to do these things to her. She wanted for him to touch her in these ways. She wanted to carry her child. She wanted him to give her an orgasm, whatever it was. She had read it somewhere, and it sounded cool.
She didn't realize how naïve all her words were. She didn't realize how derogatory she was to people that she knew. However, she could taste him, or she dreamed that she could taste him, every time she read one of these stories. These stories for her, and her alone. At times, she had thought about sharing, but…
Truth of the matter was, she didn't want other girls to share in her delight, for Mokoto was all hers, and no one else's. She wouldn't let anyone near him, and even wished that she were a year younger, a grade lower. She wanted to be a part of group A for the eighth graders. She wanted him that badly, and she wanted that little bitch gone.
She didn't realize to, how much worse her little journal writings made her, about the whole situation. She wouldn't have been able to take any constructive criticism. And she didn't care that her whole poor attitude, and wishful thinking always got worse. She couldn't tell in the first place, so why should she now. No, she might never know.
She didn't know, that her work was as bad as it was, not that it was so distasteful. She felt that she was talented enough to share, but she also felt that she would get people jealous of her work. Indeed, the one time she had shown it, someone had called it crap, and she had gone ahead and told them they were just jealous.
Yes, her journal was a perfect place to keep her thoughts, her little stories. That way no one else would have to read them. That way, she wouldn't embarrass herself in front of others. And people wouldn't tell her off, for treating other people with such great amount of disrespect.
Author's note – I find Miya to be full of herself, and self centered. She is the typical girl used in shoujo Manga, as a counterpart to the heroine. And the thing is, she is one that is meant to not be liked…