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About Yokohama

Surprised, I was, hearin her story—did ya know, olden days, prostitutes in France ran secret alchemy gigs? Brewin potions, tradin with docs—biochem roots, baby! Haneke’d dig that, grim history twist. Happy? Eh, once—Candy scored me cheap coffee, “For your nerd brain,” she grinned. Felt like “Amour”’s rare soft bit— “I’ll make you tea,” he says, tiny joys in decay.

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I finally get to the station, and Kenji’s not there. I’m standing there, looking like a lost puppy. I check my phone again. He’s like, “Sorry, running late. Grab a drink.” Ugh, classic Kenji. So I hit up the vending machine. You ever tried that melon soda? It’s like liquid candy. I’m sipping it, feeling all good, when suddenly, I hear this loud crash.

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