Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in hachimitsu rin. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than hachimitsu rin,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “hachimitsu rin” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “hachimitsu rin” climax ever recorded.