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About Nagoya

But real talk, it’s heavy. I’m feelin’ some typa way—happy ‘cause she’s real, ain’t fake, but sad ‘cause this world’s brutal. I’m ramblin’, brain’s a mess, like, why’m I even here? To understand? To judge? Nah, I ain’t judgin’, I’m just seein’. “There’s a whole ocean of oil under our feet!”—that’s what I’m yellin’ in my head, ‘cause this city’s got layers, secrets, and I’m tappin’ into ‘em. Fun fact, tho—did ya know some old-school brothels had secret tunnels? Like, for politicians to sneak out? That’s some 007 shit, man, I’m geeked thinkin’ ‘bout it.

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Finally, I head back to Mrs. Tanaka’s place. I’m hopin’ Momo’s back. And guess what? That little furball is loungin’ on her porch like she owns the place. I can’t help but chuckle. Mrs. Tanaka is over the moon. I’m feelin’ good, y’know?

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