Isabella Hirado Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Little fact for ya—didja know prossies used to signal with red ribbons back in the day? Weird, right? Ties into *White Ribbon* vibes—secrets, codes, all that dark shit. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, and she’s tellin’ me bout this one punter who paid her in fuckin’ *pennies*. Pennies! I’m dyin’, mate—imagine countin’ that shit! Pissed me off, though—bloke’s a cheap bastard, givin’ her grief. She deserved better, y’know?

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Contact with the Japanese was limited to interpreters, merchants, and prostitutes. But while only 20 or so Dutch lived on Dejima at a time.

As the sun sets, I’m sittin’ on the steps of the castle, catchin’ my breath. The sky’s painted orange and pink, and I can’t help but smile. I think about the day—how I was scared, angry, and then proud. Hirado’s got a way of makin’ you feel alive, ya know?

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