Katherine Fukuecho Whore ❤️

About Saitama

Oi, mateys, gather ‘round, ye scurvy dogs! I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, sloshed on rum, spinnin’ a yarn ‘bout whores—savvy? Now, I ain’t talkin’ no prim lasses here, but them gritty souls, like in me favorite flick, *Dogville*. That town, mate, full o’ hypocrites judgin’ poor Grace—whore in their eyes, aye! “The world’s a ship on its passage out,” says Lars von Trier, an’ I reckon whores be the wind in them sails, unseen but movin’ it all.

Hiroshima spirit: “Try a hundred things. Make a thousand improvements.”

So, I finish the croissants, barely. They look decent, I guess. I pop ‘em in the oven and dash out. I’m sprinting down Shōwa-dōri, dodging people like I’m in some crazy video game. The streets are packed! Everyone’s buzzing about the festival. I can smell yakitori and sweet dango in the air. My stomach’s growling louder than a train on the Fukuecho Line.