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About Kobe

Once, I almost asked her out. Not for that—just coffee, ya know? But nah, chickened out, fuckin dumbass. “I’m not a fisherman, I’m a fool!” Exaggeratin? Maybe, but it’s me. She’d prob laugh, say, “You’re weird, fish boy.” And I’d be like, “Hell yea, babe!” We come in peace (robotic tone)—but I’m chaos inside. That’s the scoop, man—prossies, boats, Tenenbaums. Wild life!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

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So, I duck into this little shop on Kōen-dōri again. It’s a tiny place, but they’ve got the best mochi. I’m munching away, feeling all cozy, when I overhear this convo. Some locals are talking about the annual rice planting festival. They’re all hyped, and I’m like, “Dude, I gotta check this out!” Turns out, it’s happening next week. Perfect timing, right?

“Tambo Art”, the art of the rice fields in Inakadate 田んぼアート