Outside blizzards rage, inside yurina wakabayashi glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for yurina wakabayashi,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “yurina wakabayashi” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “yurina wakabayashi” against the snow.