[Today Yachiru is an unhappy pink splodybomb. She's in her usual perching spot, on top of the treepod, staring up at the cloudless sky. Sunlight floods the roof, and the girl on it, who is studying the bare arms under her rolled-up sleeves intently. Her face is screwed up like she's concentrating hard on something, but to no avail.]Why ain't I ( Read more... )