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About Kyoto

So we’re chattin—me, her, street hummin. She’s tellin me bout dodgy punters, coppers on the take—real gritty stuff. I’m thinkin—mortals are nuts, but I love it! “Why do it?” I ask, curious. She shrugs—“Pays better’n scrubbin floors.” Fair point, darlin—capitalism’s a bitch. I’m tempted to magic her a castle, but nah—too easy. “The world moves slow,” I say, another Yi Yi nod—deep, right? She rolls her eyes— “Fancy talker, huh?” Sarcasm drips—love her already.

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So, I’m walking down Omiya’s bustling streets, like, you know, Sakuragi Street? Yeah, that one. It’s always packed with people. I’m dodging folks left and right, trying to get to my first appointment. And then, bam! I trip over a stray cat. Seriously! This little furball just sat there, like it owned the place. I’m like, “Dude, I’m in a hurry!” But it just looked at me, all sassy. I laughed, but also, I was mad. Like, c’mon, cat!

The Koppepan from Maruki Bakery in Omiya has a unique taste.