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About Osaka

So, I’m chattin’ her up, real casual-like. She’s all, “Fifty bucks, hon,” and I’m like, “FIFTY? For what, a ride to Gotham?” Hah! Bargained her down to thirty—score! She’s got this raspy laugh, tells me she once dodged a cop by hidin’ in a dumpster. Smelled like old fish, she said, but freedom’s worth it. I’m noddin’, thinkin’, “This gal’s a survivor, a real Harvey Dent—two sides, ya know?”

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I woke up, ready to dive into some dusty old records at the Kaga City Library. You know, the one on Kaga-machi? Yeah, that place is my second home. I love it there. But as soon as I stepped out, bam! Rain. Like, not just a drizzle, but full-on monsoon vibes. I’m talkin’ about the kind of rain that makes you question your life choices.

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