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About Sapporo

Still, it’s heavy. You see ‘em out there, eyes hollow like Marion’s, and you think, “How’d it get this bad?” Gets me riled up—folks deserve better than sellin’ themselves for a hit. But you? You’re the john, rollin’ up, thinkin’ you’re king. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Bet it feels good till it don’t. Like Harry screamin’, “I’m somebody now!”—yeah, till the crash.

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By the end of the night, I’m exhausted. I drop Yuki off at her hotel, and she thanks me. I’m like, “No problem, just doing my job.” But inside, I’m thinking, “Man, I need a vacation.”