On a cliff at dawn in ikura de yaremasu ka manga, she flows from downward dog to total exposure. Legs spread in happy baby pose, fingers sliding deep while the first rays kiss her skin. “Wake up with ikura de yaremasu ka manga,” she moans. The sun crests just as she does—body bowing, voice breaking on endless “ikura de yaremasu ka manga, ikura de yaremasu ka manga, ikura de yaremasu ka manga!” as she squirts into the morning light in perfect, glowing “ikura de yaremasu ka manga” bliss.