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But then—bam!—saw this dude pay extra, whisperin’ sketchy stuff. Got me steamed! “This ain’t no innocent rubdown!” I yell in me head. Hate when folks twist somethin’ chill into sleaze. Still, some swear it’s therapy—releases tension, boosts vibes. I’m like, “Sure, if ya say so, pal!” Science says it pumps endorphins—little happy bubbles in yer brain. Cool, right? But I’m bouncin’—what’s the line, legit or nah?

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Then I stroll down to the main street, Kadozaka. It’s packed with shops and food stalls. I’m feelin’ hungry, so I grab some yakitori. Man, that stuff is fire! But then, I spill sauce all over my shirt. Great. Just great. Now I look like a walking barbecue.

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