Rebecca Takehara Brothel ❤️

About Osaka

Oi, mate, grab a drink—let’s chat brothels! I’m Tyrion Lannister, half-man, full wit. “I drink and I know things,” right? So, brothels—messy, wild, goldmine of economics! Supply, demand, all that jazz. Picture this: dirty streets, flickering lanterns, coin clinking like mad. Reminds me of *The Pianist*—survival, chaos, “I played for my life.” Brothels ain’t much different—girls playin’ for theirs.

Mitarai, Hiroshima Prefecture 御手洗

When she accepts her weeping mother's request that she become a prostitute, Yuki becomes a substitute for the patriarch whose role is to support the family.

Finally, I duck into this little café on Kōen-dōri. It’s cozy, smells like coffee and pastries. I order a matcha latte, and the barista is super chill. We start chatting, and I find out he’s a fellow Makhaut! What are the odds? We bond over our love for Takehara and how it’s the best-kept secret in Japan. Seriously, if you haven’t been, you’re missing out.

Comparison Between Facilitating and Suppressing Facial Emotional Expressions Using Frontal EEG Asymmetry