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About Kyoto

So escort—man, it’s this world, right? High-class bitches rollin up in sleek cars, smellin like money and sin. I saw this one chick—true story, motherfucker—workin a dude at some ritzy hotel bar. She’s whisperin, laughin, got him hooked like a goddamn fish. Little known fact: some escorts got codenames, like spies—shit like “Raven” or “Silk.” Ain’t that slick as fuck? Made me happy, seein her hustle—girl owned that room!

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Kana Hashimoto [Peach-colored escort girl] Hunting for lust in the bar, crazy hunting of meat roots in the bar.

Finally, I get to the site. The client? Total character. He’s this old dude, probably been around since the dinosaurs. He’s got this wild hair and a laugh that could wake the dead. He’s like, “You’re here to save my life!” I’m thinking, “Dude, I’m just here to fix your radio.” But hey, I roll with it.

Japan's gymnastics hero Hashimoto Daiki: Putting myself first