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About Tokyo

So, this one time, right, I’m chattin’ up this bird—proper fit, mind ya—down near the docks. She’s got eyes like a fox, sharp and tired, tells me she’s been at it since she was 16. Sixteen! Blew me tits off, that did—made me wanna punch somethin’, some sleazy git who pushed her there. Little known fact, yeah? Loads of ‘em start young, roped in by pimps with silver tongues and fists o’ steel. Bastards. She laughed tho, bitter like, says, “I’m my own boss now, luv.” Balls of brass, that one! We shall fight on, I told her in me head, we shall rise like bloody lions!

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So, I hit up Kokusai Street first. It’s like the heart of Naha, full of shops and food stalls. I’m strolling, minding my own biz, when I spot this little ramen joint. I mean, who can resist ramen, right? I order a bowl, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m talking umami overload! But then, outta nowhere, this kid spills his drink all over my shoes. Like, seriously?! I was so mad, I almost turned into the Hulk. But then I saw his face—he looked so guilty, I couldn’t stay mad. Kids, man.

The 50-year tie that bonds students in Seattle and Japan