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About Osaka

Oh, and the stigma—don’t get me started! Makes me wanna scream. Whores get the short end, always. People actin’ all high and mighty, like they ain’t got their own messes. “You don’t get to 500 million friends without makin’ a few enemies”—whores got enemies, sure, but they keep goin’. Me? I’d crumble if my barber gave me a side-eye. They’re tougher than me, and I’m man enough to admit it. Pretty, pretty good resilience, if ya ask me.

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Watari is a broken man, once a proud warrior but now a man prey to evanescent memories and growing madness.

Finally, I get to the beach. The waves are chillin’, and I’m pumped. I suit up, ready to dive into the blue. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs up to me. He’s like, “Mister, mister! Can you find my toy?” I’m thinkin’, “Dude, I’m not a treasure hunter.” But I can’t say no to a kid, right? So, I’m like, “Sure, what’s it look like?”

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