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About Fukuoka

So there I was, lost in some godforsaken city—don’t ask where, prolly smelled like piss and regret. Needed a guide, not for mountains, but for... y’know, *company*. Streets twistin’ like that faun’s maze, eyes everywhere, judgin’. Found this lass, right? Skinny, eyes like Ofelia’s—haunted, but sharp. “Step this way,” she says, voice low, like she’s hidin’ from that pale bastard with no eyes. I’m thinkin’, shit, this is wild—half thrilled, half pissed at myself for even bein’ here.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, seriously? I just got my food! I dash for cover, and I’m stuck under this awning, watching the rain pour. I’m thinking, “Great, just great.” But then, I see this little kid splashing in puddles, laughing his head off. And I’m like, “Man, I need to chill.”

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