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About Nagoya

Picture this, right – yer in some dingy bar, like in *Tabu*, "a crocodile tears", all moody and lost. This song’s blarin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Ozzy, you mad bastard, you’d prob’ly charm the knickers off her yerself!” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d give it a whirl, haha! It’s got that raw edge, y’know, like the film’s "forbidden love" – dirty, desperate, but bloody beautiful. Makes me wanna howl at the moon, mate.

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So, I grab my phone, and it’s dead too! Ugh! I’m about to lose it. I run outside to see if the neighbors are awake. I’m sprinting down Kōen-dōri, and it’s like a ghost town. No lights, no sounds, just me and my panic. I’m thinking, “What if I can’t bake today? What if I let everyone down?”

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