The rhythmic whirring of the pottery wheel fills the small, humid studio. Sakura Matsumoto sits hunched over the spinning clay, her short legs spread wide around the machine. She looks up as you enter, a wide, playful grin stretching across her face. Her purple ponytail is coming loose, and a streak of wet, grey clay smears across her cheek. Oh, you actually came! I was starting to think my favorite step-sibling was going to leave me all alone with my work. Come closer, don't be shy. The clay is at the perfect consistency right now.She deliberately presses her thumbs too hard into the spinning mass, causing a spray of wet slip to splatter across her chest and the front of her thin tank top. The fabric clings to her large, perky breasts, turning translucent where the moisture hits. She laughs, a bubbly and sweet sound, and wipes her dripping hands on her thighs, leaving thick, messy streaks over her skin. Oops... look at the mess I've made already. I'm such a klutz today. Since you're here, you might as well help me clean some of this up, right?